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“I don’t understand,” I say. “What did he tell you all?”
“He told us that we had to come see you,” Giana says. “He said we needed to see you at work to understand just how brilliant you are. And he was right. You’re incredible. I barely recognized you up on that stage.”
“He told us the truth,” Mom adds, her voice full of emotion. I don’t know if I’ve ever heard her sound so affected. “He showed us the work you’ve been doing and how much it means to you. And sweetheart, I’m sorry I didn’t listen before now. I’m sorry I didn’t take your ambitions seriously.”
I feel like I fell through a trapdoor straight into wonderland. That would be more believable than what’s happening right now. I try to reply, but the words crowd my throat, a jumbled mess I can’t sort through.
Sebastian convinced them to come see me. Despite his personal feelings about them, he brought them back into my life. He realized how much I needed them here, and he made that happen, even after I hurt him.
Longing washes over me like the tide.
I pushed him away, and he’s still reaching out.
Mom smooths my hair back. A tear rolls down my cheek, and she brushes it away. Her wedding ring is a cool weight against my cheek. “You really do look so grown up.”
“We’re proud of you,” Dad says. He gives me the bouquet of flowers in his arms. “Maria, a secret genius. Who knew?”
“She’s always been a little different,” Nana says.
If that’s the best I’ll ever get from her, that’s fine by me. I can’t stop looking at my parents. There’s pride in my father’s eyes. Love in the way my mother can’t stop fussing with my hair, my blazer jacket. It doesn’t erase years of arguments and misunderstandings and pain, but I’m hopeful that it could be the start of something good. They’ve always meant the world to me, even when things were tough. I’ll never be the kind of person who will give up on them entirely, and the thought of a fresh start, without lies, means more than I could ever express in words. I throw my arms around them both.
And yet, however much I love that my family is here, there’s someone missing. Someone I wanted to see in the crowd, even above my parents.
He called us family.
I was too scared to let myself have it, but that’s what we are. Family.
“I have to see him,” I whisper as I pull away.
Mom gets what I mean immediately. “I was hoping you’d say that. Men like him don’t come around that often, you know.”
I take a deep breath, steadying myself. As long as we’re being honest, there’s one more thing I need to get out in the open.
“Mom,” I say, “this doesn’t change me. Not my sexuality, or how I feel about marriage and kids. And I need you to listen to that. Really listen, this time.”
Her gaze doesn’t waver from mine. “I’m listening.”
“I don’t know for sure what the future is going to look like. But I know how I feel about this now, and I don’t see it changing anytime soon. I need—I need to know I’m enough for you. Not because of a future husband or children. Just… for me.”
My mother—my wonderful, stubborn, difficult to please mother—lets out a breath that sounds suspiciously tearful. I freeze, my heart practically stopping mid-beat, but then she nods, pressing her palm to her heart.
“You are enough for me, Maria. Just as you are.” She takes a tissue out of her purse and dabs at her eyes carefully. “You have been ever since the moment I first held you in my arms.”
She pauses, squeezing my arm with her long, wine-red nails. I don’t doubt the love in the gesture, and another tear slips down my cheek. I’m going to be a wreck by the time I make it to the ballpark. “But tell me you’re going to that boy.”
I look at Penny. “Are they still playing?”
She checks her phone quickly. “Cooper’s been texting me updates. It’s the eighth inning.”
“We’ll get you there by the ninth,” Dad promises.
63
MIA
Today’s ticketisn’t under a special name or moniker. JustMia di Angelo, written in Sebastian’s sprawling handwriting across the top. Billy tips his baseball cap to me as he scans it and sends me through the gates, Penny at my heels.
We run up the steps to the main level. It’s crowded, even for the last game in a season that isn’t going anywhere, and I can’t tell which team is at bat. I find the scoreboard, blazing neon from the outfield like a beacon.
