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“So, why are you married to him? You’re pretty. You could get a younger guy.” Her backhanded compliment actually felt flattering.
“Thank you. But age doesn’t really matter to me. I married Neil because I fell in love with him. And he’s my best friend.” I paused. “I mean, other than my best friends that I’m not romantically involved with.”
She sighed, clearly disappointed in my answer. Though what she’d expected, I couldn’t guess. “Well, I’m glad you’re happy.”
“And I’m glad we’re finally meeting.” A lump rose in my throat. Finally meeting my sister, who I hadn’t known about for sixteen years of her life…. That seemed so unfair.
“I know.” She examined her chipped nail polish, exactly the way I would have held my hand to do the same. “I didn’t even know you were alive until Dad was dying.”
“Did he tell you?” Maybe it was unethical to interrogate a minor for details, but it still bothered me that I didn’t know the extent to which my existence had been kept secret.
She nodded vigorously. “Yeah. When they found his cancer…well, when he found out he couldn’t donate to me, he told us. Susan and Renee and me. I was really angry because why wouldn’t he tell us if we had another sister? Did you know about us?”
“Vaguely,” I admitted. “I’d heard that my father had another family, but I didn’t know the details. I didn’t really want to know them.”
She frowned. “Why wouldn’t you want to know if you had another family?”
“Because I didn’t really feel like you were my family.” I hurried to soften the blow as her face fell. “It’s not anything personal. I’m very glad to get to know you, now. But your dad wasn’t a dad to me. I only met him a few times. We never talked. He probably wouldn’t have recognized me if he’d run into me on the street.”
“I think he would have,” she said sadly. “You look just like him.”
It struck me suddenly that I hated hearing that. I hated knowing that I shared something with the man who’d abandoned me. All my life, people had told me I had my mother’s eyes or her expressions. All along, it was just because they had no other basis for comparison. Now, these strangers were insisting that I somehow had something in common with my absent father, and it stung. Like they were ripping me away from the family who’d actually taken the time to love me and raise me.
It was wholly irrational and not Molly’s fault. She was a teenager, a sick teenager who needed an organ transplant. She had enough stress and drama in her life. She didn’t need mine.
I was about to change the subject when she blurted, “Mom thinks he didn’t see you when you were little because of his dad.”
“Oh?” Poised on the brink of uncovering yet another clue in the mystery of Joey Tangen, I couldn’t back away, even though I knew I shouldn’t let her tell me.
“Yeah. We never saw him. I guess he wasn’t a great dad, either.” It wasn’t enough. I needed to know more, but I couldn’t pry. But I would definitely ask Sasha or Susan about it, later.
A sense of being close to answers I’d never thought I would obtain almost urged me to demand the driver turn the car around. I wanted to run back to Sasha and ask her to clarify Molly’s unintentionally cryptic remarks. But the point of our outing was to give Molly a good time. My issues would have to get worked out later.
The Twelve Oaks Mall in Novi was basically the mall in the Detroit Metro area. I’d never been there, but one of my friends had during a U of M campus visit. She’d come home with a map, an honest-to-god printed map of the place. That’s how big it was; someone could get lost in it.
“Holy crap,” Molly said as we pulled up in front of the doors. “There’s valet parking.”
“Yes, there is,” I observed coolly, like I wasn’t also shocked to see a mall with valet parking.
And I was a freaking billionaire.
“Hey, there’s a Cheesecake Factory,” I said, pointing toward the unmistakable gold edifice. “We should get some dessert before we head back. If you’re allowed to have sugary stuff. I don’t actually know that much about your disease.”
“It’s not diabetes,” she said. “I try to eat healthy, but it’s hard to stick to the diet. Stuff is too expensive. But yeah, cheesecake is not going to kill me today.”
She tucked her hair behind her ear, again, and for the first time, I noticed the glint of plastic in her ear.
“Is that a hearing aid?” I asked, before I could remember my manners.
Molly rolled her eyes. “Yeah. Alport Syndrome wrecks your hearing. And your eyes. Hence the stupid glasses.”
