Page 62 of Broken Secrets
“Do you think she’ll ever be okay with us having a relationship?”
“I hope so. But even if she’s not, that’s her problem to work through, not ours.” She stops walking and turns to face me. “Olivia, I’ve wanted a sister my entire life. I’m not giving up on this just because it’s complicated for the adults.”
“Good,” I say. “Because I’m not giving up on it either.”
Derek appears beside us, keys jingling in his hand. “I’m going to head home and let you guys have family time. proud of you.”
He kisses me softly.
“Text me when you’re ready to debrief,” he says, climbing into his car. “I want to hear everything.”
As his taillights disappear into traffic, I’m left standing in the parking lot with the people who share my DNA, some by birth,some by choice, but all part of the complicated constellation that makes up my family.
“Ready to go home?” Mom asks, and for the first time in weeks, her voice sounds truly relaxed.
“Ready,” I say, and mean it.
We caravan back to the house in two cars, me with Mom and Robert, Jeremy and Emma following in their rental. The drive gives me a few minutes to process what just happened, to start wrapping my mind around the fact that my biological father just watched me score the winning goal in the league championship.
“Are you okay with this?” I ask Mom as we turn onto our street. “Really okay? Because if this is too hard for you,”
“It is hard,” she interrupts. “Seeing Jeremy again, sharing you with the family I kept you from all these years, it’s one of the hardest things I’ve ever done. But it’s also right. You deserve to know where you come from, and they deserve to know the amazing person you’ve become.”
“What if it changes things between us?”
Mom reaches back from the driver’s seat and squeezes my hand. “Sweetheart, loving other people doesn’t make you love me less. It just makes your heart bigger.”
As we pull into our driveway, I see Jeremy helping Emma out of their rental car, both of them looking slightly overwhelmed by the surreal nature of this evening. In a few minutes, we’ll all walk into my house, my mom’s sanctuary, the place she built to keep the past from finding us and try to figure out how to be a family that includes everyone.
It won’t be easy. There are eighteen years of hurt and misunderstanding to work through, complicated loyalties to navigate, and the simple logistics of building relationships across a continent. But sitting in our driveway, still wearing my grass-stained jersey from the best game of my life, I feel something I haven’t felt in months.
I’m surprised how mom is being considering how she has been this entire time about Jeremy.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
The dining roomfeels different with five people around our table instead of the usual three. Mom has pulled out the good dishes, the ones we only use for holidays, and the smell of lasagna and garlic bread fills the house. She’s clearly nervous, fussing with napkins and refilling water glasses every few minutes.
“This is incredible,” Emma says, taking another bite of lasagna. “Did you really make all this?”
Mom’s cheeks flush slightly. “I may have gotten some help from Tony’s Italian Kitchen downtown. But I transferred it to my own dishes, so it counts as homemade, right?”
Jeremy laughs, “Emma’s been teaching herself to cook because she got tired of my attempts at dinner.”
“Your grilled cheese is good,” Emma protests. “And your scrambled eggs are only slightly rubbery.”
“High praise from a teenager,” he says.
I watch this easy banter between them, trying to absorb what it reveals about their relationship. I have the same relationship with Robert, and while it’s great, I can’t help but feel jealous of them
“So tell me about your school,” Mom says to Emma, clearly attempting to include her. “Are you still doing theater?”
Emma’s face lights up. “We’re doing ‘Our Town’ this spring, and I got the role of Emily. Dad’s already taken time off work to come to opening night.”
“That’s a beautiful play,” Mom says. “Very emotional.”
“I’ve been practicing the wedding scene with Dad reading all the other parts,” Emma continues. “He’s terrible at doing different voices, but he tries.”
Jeremy shrugs good-naturedly. “I do my best. Though I draw the line at playing Mrs. Webb in a falsetto.”
