“Well, that’s why I’m here,” I say, my spine snapping straight with the mission at hand. “Tell me. Everything.”
44
“I met Evette at freshman orientation.” My dad has a faraway expression, and I can tell he might be in some unreachable place right now. “I spotted her immediately—not just because we were the only Asian kids there, but because she was so beautiful.” He looks at me then. “You look so much like her. It’s…” His voice trails off as he glances away and takes a deep breath. “It’s a trip.”
I know I look like my mom and it’s something that I’ve always been grateful for—to have her features live on in me. But now I look at my dad and see some of myself in him, too. Andthatis a trip, as well.
“I remember what she was wearing that day,” he says with a smile. “It was the early eighties, you know? Everyone in art school thought they were either a hippie or a punk. I veered toward punk myself. A suburban kid with something to prove. But Eve—she was uniquely herself. She wore this oversized T-shirt that she had hand-painted herself, with little red shorts. It’s really hard to explain. Her hair was so long—like yours—and wavy and glinted in the sun. It was difficult not to notice her.”
Photos of Mom when she was young are all around my house,so I can picture this outfit exactly. A cold clenching feeling comes over me. I suddenly feel her absence so acutely that it’s hard to breathe normally.
“Anyway, I felt like I was pretty cool, so I swaggered over to her during our lunch break. We were outside and she was fanning herself under a tree with a paper fan she made. It was hot out. So, I brought her a pop from the vending machine. At first, she was friendly and maybe even flirty with me. But when I introduced myself—Matthew Lee—she suddenly turned ice-cold.”
“Because you were her fated,” I said weakly.
He nodded. “And she iced me out for weeks. I had no idea why. I had such a crush on her. I thought, maybe she didn’t want to be hanging out with one of the only other Asian kids in our program. Or she thought I was too dorky. Not talented enough. Because Evette was just so cool, man.” For a second, he looks boyish, lost in time. He leans forward, his hands clasped together, his voice low and urgent. “But she couldn’t deny our chemistry. And I was persistent. It would probably be considered a ‘red flag’ on TikTok today.” I laugh without thinking, and there is a twinkle in his eye in response. He continues, “So after a few weeks, she gave me a chance.”
“Where was your first date?” The question slips out, I can’t help it. I am sucked into the story, thirsty for every drop of new information about Mom.
He groans a little. “Oh, I was so embarrassing. I was trying to impress her, so I invited her to my…show.”
“Like, an art show?”
“No.” He can’t even look at me. “My…band’s…rock show.”
“Oh. Oh, no.”
We make eye contact for a second and start laughing. It loosens me up. I realize that I’ve been absolutely still—coiled, and tense.
“Yeah. Despite that, she somehow went on a second date with me. And then a third…and, well, we…our feelings got big fast. Soon after that, she told me everything—all about past lives and fateds and all that. And I believed her, because everything was great for a while. We spent four years together at art school—grueling schedules that required so many all-nighters. Being broke and eating saltines and butter for breakfast. You bond with people when your relationship is forged in fire, you know? I thought we could face anything…Then Eve got pregnant. It was earlier than planned, clearly, and we weren’t married so your grandparents were furious. But once you were born, they were all in.”
Then comes the pause.
My voice quakes. “But you weren’t.”
His head drops down. “Cassia, I know there’s nothing I can say or do to make up for…anything.” He finds the courage to look up, and his eyes are red-rimmed. “But what I can tell you is that I was young and freaked out and didn’t have the tools to become the man I needed to be. And that when I was gone long enough, I felt like I no longer deserved a place in your life. Then when Evette died, it just seemed cruel to attempt to take her place.”
Both of us are crying now.
“I did love you both. I still…I still think about you all the time. Cold comfort, I know. But it’s true. You were never forgotten. And neither is your mother.” He pauses to look at me, his eyes roaming over my face again. “Seeing you is such a gift. It’s like time travel.”
I need to take giant gulps of air to breathe, and he watches me with misery before standing up. A few seconds later, he returns with a box of tissue. I take one and wipe at my eyes. “So, it’s true? You were her fated and despite that, you still left us. Her.”
He nods, suddenly looking all of his sixty-plus years. “Yes.”
“Did being fated mean nothing to you?” I shake my head. “I know the dad aspect freaked you out, but what about the fated part? You knew it was real. You were willing to break up life after life of fated love?”
What he says next is careful, deliberate. “The thing is, Cassia…Fated loves? That’s your family’s religion. It isn’t mine. I just loved your mom. And that love was so intense—I believe that we loved each other in other lives. But inthislife, I wasn’t brave enough to stick around.”
The honesty floors me. He’s not trying to make excuses. There’s still so much I want to ask him, but I am completely drained. My eyes feel sticky, my skin dry as a bone, and my brain has left planet Earth. He must see it in my face because he asks, “Did you fly here overnight?”
“Yeah. I slept a little on the plane, but I probably need to find a hotel to crash at for a bit.”
“No, no. Stay. We have a guest room. It’s always ready because Rachel is…She’s like that,” he says with a smile.
“I couldn’t impose,” I say automatically, absolutely mortified at the idea of wearing out my welcome. “I have a rental car and am fine with a hotel.” I’m already up, grabbing my purse.
But he’s up, too, and he looks at me with urgency. “Please, Cassia. I couldn’t…I can’t send you out like this, so upset. I want to know you’re close and safe.”
