Page 26 of I Can't Even

“We can ask Mr. Loren, I guess.” Soph looked at me as if this whole situation was surreal, which it totally was and then shook her head. “So, what about Liam? Any idea what you’re going to do about that?”

I knew I could have put her off. I could have denied my feelings but to what purpose? To protect myself? As if that had ever done me any good.

“It might just be on my end,” I began, wanting her to know that I wasn’t being stupid, “but I think there is still something there, something worth investigating. At the very least, I need to tell him I’m sorry.”

Soph opened her mouth to speak but then closed it, tilting her head to study me. The affection in her gaze was as warm as the sun.

“If he doesn’t give you another chance, he’s an idiot,” my older sister said, ever my protector.

Soph rose from her seat and took the coffee tray back to the kitchen. She’d sent Hannah and Harry home with enough leftovers to keep the family of four eating for a week. She picked up her purse and glanced through the dining room doorway at Babs in her pretty urn on the table. “I guess I’ll go get my toothbrush and prepare to sleep in my old room.”

“Is Stan going to be okay with this?” I asked.

“Until we can figure out an alternative, he’ll have to be, won’t he?” Soph shrugged. “Back in a flash.” She ran her hand over the knot on my head and nodded. It was weird to have her doing the mom thing with me. Weird but also kind of nice.

I hugged her before she left just because we both seemed to need it. Soph was much thinner than I remembered, the bones of her shoulders evident beneath my touch. When my older sis was stressed, she didn’t eat. I blamed whatever was going on between her and Stan. Would she tell me if I asked her flat out?

I rolled up from the couch, planning to make it an early night. I paused by Babs’s urn. I put my hand on the top and a rage so intense it made my fingers shake filled me. I wanted to knock her to the floor. But I didn’t.

Instead, I dropped my hand and gazed out the window at Liam’s house. His workout room was dark. Not a big surprise, but I was disappointed not to have at least a glimpse of my favorite distraction. Given that I had memorialized the life of my mother, rather my adoptive mother—okay that was weird—today, the fact that I was hoping to ogle the boy next door made me a complete reprobate. Yeah, I was pretty sure I was going to hell.

But honestly, in that moment if I could have looked my fill at Liam, hell would have been totally worth it.

Chapter Nine

It had been three days since the service, three days since I had learned that my origin story was a sham, a charade, a big fat whopper. That I was likely the product of my dad not pulling out in time rather than a miracle achieved by two loving parents. It took me twenty-four hours to find the courage to read my father’s letter. As if the emotional beat down of the past few weeks hadn’t been enough, I felt myself completely unravel when I read his words.

My dearest Peanut,

If you are reading this, then your mother and I have passed. I know it is selfish, but I hope our departure causes you to grieve at least a little, knowing full well that after you receive this, you’ll likely curse us both – justifiably so.

Obviously, Howard has given you the envelope with your original birth certificate, the few photos I had of your mother, Lisa, and this letter. I wish I could hug you as I know this must be a bit of a shock, and I’m sure you’re wondering why we didn’t tell you sooner. In the simplest terms, I made a vow.

Your mother, Lisa, was a free spirit, a lover of butterflies, ramen noodles, the spicier the better, the sun on her face, and the wind in her hair. She was unlike anyone I had ever known and she cartwheeled into my life just when I needed her most. You were conceived out of that love.

Those were some of the happiest days of my life, anticipating your arrival with the woman who filled my life with everything good. But then your sister Sophie got sick with measles which caused encephalitis and we were sure she was going to die. Being a man of faith, I prayed to God for her to be spared and she was. I knew afterwards that I had to make things right, so I told Barbara about Lisa and you. She seemed to take it well. She wanted to meet your mother. Looking back, I should have said no, but Barbara had been unhappy in our marriage, too, and I thought we were in agreement to end it. I assumed we’d find a way to raise Sophie and you separately but together. It was not to be.

After one meeting with Barbara, a new plan was suddenly in place. Lisa would give us full custody of you and she would go away for good. My world fell apart after that and the only thing that kept me going was you. When you laughed I heard your mother’s laugh. When you smiled, I saw the kindness she had shown me and countless others. She was a good woman, selfless and kind. Do not judge her harshly for walking away. It was not easy for her, but she knew once she met Barbara that your life would be impossible if she tried to stay with me. She felt no child should suffer through that.

When she held you in the hospital that one and only time, she wept and said you were the most beautiful baby she had ever seen. She was right. Then she asked me to make sure that I loved you enough for both of us. As I write this, you are sleeping in the bassinet beside my desk. I hope that when you read this, you will feel that I did love you enough for both of us. You are and always will be my greatest joy.

I have no right to ask, but if you decide to find your mother, please tell her that I never stopped loving her just as I will always love you.

Forever yours,

Dad

I read the letter, cried over it, read it again and again and cried some more. I was in a whirlwind of emotions, running the gamut from sad to angry and back to sad. Frankly, it was exhausting.

After hours of chewing on it, I came to some conclusions. My mother had been bought off by Babs. That was my first thought because I wasn’t stupid enough to believe that my birth mother ditched me without some seriously green incentive. My second was what a spineless frail thing Lisa must have been to give up her baby to a shrew like Babs. In my scorching disappointment, I thought maybe I was better off not having been raised by someone so weak. But then, I remembered this was Babs. She always got what she wanted no matter the cost to the other person. I knew this because she had cost me plenty.

Rage filled the vacuum left by my disappointment. I wanted to hurt someone, flay them bloody with caustic words and, if possible, back over them with a car. And not just someone but Babs. I desperately wanted to torture her the way she had tortured me over the years with her scrutiny and nitpicking and withholding of affection. Me, whose only fault was that I was conceived out of love by a woman who wasn’t her.

But Babs, that wily bitch, had outmaneuvered me once again. Tying me to my half-sisters—

yep, still weird—with this house and our substantial inheritance. The only way I could hurt Babs would be to pack a bag and walk away, letting her two precious darlings lose everything. That would teach her. That would show her. Yeah, except Babs was dead. There would be no showdown where I got to watch the pain of my betrayal crush her spirit.

And if I did walk away, it would destroy my sisters. Em, who didn’t even know who she was without Babs, and Soph, whose marriage in my opinion was rocky at best. If I let the house and the inheritance go to Paisley, what would happen to them? Did I care? Yes. I loved my sisters. Damn it!

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