“Okay, call me at work to update me on what comes next.”
“I will.”
She sniffed. “I’m so happy for you.”
“Thank you. I’ll let you go.”
I love you.
“Okay—”
“Wait, Jules?”
“Yeah?”
“Thank you. Just—just for being in this with me.”
The line was silent for a moment before she responded, “I wouldn’t be anywhere else, Pat.”
“I know. You’ve given me so much. You don’t even know, Julia Collins.”
I’m almost positive she sniffled. Her voice was weak. “Ditto.”
When we hung up, my heart was soaring.
THIRTY-NINE
Sunny
Icouldn’t stop fiddling with my hands. Little pieces of skin were peeling around my fingernails. Every time I get nervous, I pick at them. It hurts like crazy, but I won’t stop for some dumb reason.
There’s a main room in DSS where I had to wait for my dad. Sitting in there looking at the bare walls and listening to the clock tick was torture. He wasn’t late; we were early. Debbie was always running a little ahead of schedule.
I don’t mind waiting in general. But waiting for this was terrible.
My finger started bleeding. I sucked on it for a second to make it stop.
Debbie was chattering about something, trying to keep me engaged while we sat, but it didn’t help much. I wasn’t listening to anything she was saying. I glanced at the clock. Five minutes left.
I’d spent the past six or whatever weeks hoping and praying he wouldn’t be my dad. Once I found out he was my dad, I prayed I wouldn’t like him, and he wouldn’t like me.
I knew this was going to be so awkward. How do you meet someone you should’ve met one second after you were born? Do I hug him? Do I have to ask questions? I asked Debbie these things, and she said I could do and say whatever I felt like doing or saying.
That made me feel more lost. I had no idea what I felt.
Confused, that’s what.
I smoothed my crazy hair again. It was humid, so my hair was out of control, springing up at all angles around my face, making me look like a lion. My face flushed a little. Would he think I was pretty? I certainly didn’t think so.
My jeans were faded, and both knees had holes in them. They aren’t the jeans that are supposed to have holes, either. My purple t-shirt was wrinkled, where I had my backpack slung over it a few minutes before.
There were voices in the main hallway. Jason’s voice mixed with another man’s. My heart was beating so fast, and thosestupid tearsheated my eyes. I couldn’t imagine anything worse than bursting into tears before he even walked in.
Oh please don’t cry!
They stopped in front of the door. “Thank you, Jason, it’s nice to meet you.”
I froze.
