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“Just wondering who Nora’s biological father is, aren’t you?”
“No.” I run a hand through my hair. “Fuck, now, I am.”
“I’ll look into it on the down-low.”
“If there’s any chance it’s going to hurt Nora or Whit, I’m not sure you should.”
“I know a guy,” he states.
“Yeah, but do you trust him?”
“Of course.”
Over an hour later, when Whit wakes up, she can’t even look at me. She then insists she has to go grab groceries and get a new phone before she slices her fingers open on the shattered glass of her current one. I grab Mom’s cell out of the kitchen drawer.
“When I upgraded my phone, I upgraded Mom’s too. Use it for a while. Keep it if you want. Regardless, I think you should consider changing your number, so he stops harassing you.”
I pull it out of the box, power it up, tell her the code, and hand it to her.
Shaking her head, she asks, “Why’d you keep it?”
After placing it in her hand, I lean back against the counter and cross my arms. “When Mom gave me my first phone, it came with Dad’s number; she didn’t want someone else to have it. I think she took comfort in being able to call and text his digits. Guess I just adopted that attachment from her.”
“She loved him so much,” Whit says, looking down at the phone.
“Wanna see something cool?” I ask, opening the drawer and pulling out the large manila envelope.
“Socorro, Texas?”
“Yeah.”
She sets the phone on the counter and pulls Nora’s birth certificate out of the envelope. And just like she did with my phone after reading the message from Kal’s father, she holds it to her chest and closes her eyes.
“You saying a prayer or allowing yourself to remember where hope lives?”
Her eyes open. “What?”
“When you do that, hold something tight against you like that, you’re holding hope. Don’t you dare let go of it.”
“Tell me you won’t take her from me.”
I hold out my pinkie. “I promise.”
She hooks hers around mine, never breaking eye contact.
I pull her closer and wrap my arm around her. “Stop looking at me like I’d ever do anything that would hurt you. I’m still me, Whit, and you’re still you. We just have a few years on us.”
She allows me to hold her a bit longer before she steps back and picks up Mom’s phone. “I’ll use this, but only because if I mail mine in for repair, I’ll save the headache of them trying to sell me on a plan at the store. When it comes back, you get Mama Pope’s back.”
That’s a start, I think, but instead of saying that, I just nod.
Then, she looks at me, and I see a hint of a smile.
“What’s making you want to smile?”
“You’ve changed.”
Glad you noticed.
