I want to ask her what she’s sorry about. Is it my inability to speak up? The fact that I’ve just found the woman who abandoned me as a small child? Or that I’ve lost heragain?
I choose to stay quiet. I let my best friend’s hug warm my chilledcenter.
Her love feels much nicer than myanger.
“Have you told yourdad?”
My Dad.Somehow I’m going to have to tell him. I don’t know what it will do to him, but he deserves toknow.
“Notyet.”
“Soon?”
I nod. I’m dreading it, but I can’t use that as my reason to keep this tomyself.
Lunch is over. We go back upstairs to our separate desks. I feel better now, less heavy. I still feel like someone has punched me in the stomach, like it’s one long gasp for air, but it’s not sosharp.
I send Isaac atext.
I need to see my dad tonight. Can you handleClaire?
It takes Isaac two hours to respond, which I expect. His scheduled surgeries are in theafternoons.
A smile pulls up the corners of my mouth. Isaac the fixer. The man who acceptsme.
I’m incrediblylucky.
“Do you want to sit outside?”My dad walks ahead of me, leading the way, even though I haven't saidyes.
It’s hot, and I’d rather be inside in the air conditioning, but considering what I’m about to tell him, I canacquiesce.
He settles in a seat that’s in direct sun. It’s like he runs on a different thermostat than most people. He loves theheat.
I grab the chair opposite him that’s in partial sun and pull my legs intomyself.
My dad aims his gaze at me. “What’s going on, Aubs?” A little grin plays at the corners of his mouth. I’m not sure what he finds amusing, and now there’s guilt in my stomach because I’m about to changethat.
I open my mouth, but he speaks first. “Before you say anything, I want you to know you have my support. I really like Isaac, and I’m impressed with how he came into a tough situation and made the best out of it. He’s a family man. And he loves the people I happen to love the mosttoo.”
I’m not sure what to say now. I came here to tell him I’ve found my mother, but he’s gone and said all that stuff aboutIsaac.
Of everything my dad just said, my mind is focused on one particularword.
Love.
My dad thinks Isaac lovesus.I know Isaac loves Claire, but me? No way. If my dad only knew about our hours. He may not be so pleased with our arrangementanymore.
I set all his words aside. I came here for a reason, and if I wait any longer I’ll chicken out. Because that's exactly what I want to do. I want to bury my head in the sand and pretend I never found her. I liked it better before, when I didn’t know where she was. There was certainty in that. The mess was tidy. Now the mess iseverywhere.
“Dad, listen.” I shake my head. “This isn’t about Isaac, though it’s good to know you approve of him.” I stall for another second, pulling all my hair into my hand and laying it over my left shoulder. “I don’t know how to say this,so—”
“Just say it.” His voice is gruff. Not because he’s mad at me. Because he doesn’t do well in the moments right after he realizes he’s going to receive news he may notlike.
“I found my mom last weekend. She’s in Sugar Creek.” Best to get it over quickly, like ripping off a Band-Aid.
He’s still, the only movement is his head moving back, like he’s trying to get away from my words. His expression is nearly unchanged. I wish I were in his head, reading his thoughts and feeling his emotions. This would be a great time for him to suddenly do something totally opposite of my stoicfather.
I wait. He clears his throat. Crosses an ankle over the opposite knee so his legs form a box. Then he uncrosses it. Takes off his baseball cap, smooths down his unkempt, graying hair, and slides the hat backon.
