CHAPTER 46
Ialready knew Dad wanted to know and be known by his son. He didn’t even know the name of his own father, and he loathed the idea of denying his son even that same basic knowledge. But Dad didn’t yet know how vehemently opposed Brandon was to having any kind of relationship with him. So then what? Have Dad join me for a little parking lot stalking to catch the occasional glimpse of his son? Should we ambush Brandon again and force him into an unwanted role in our family? Or worse, should we all try to go back to our ignorance? Pretend Dad didn’t have a son and Selena and I didn’t have a brother? Could any of us do that? I’d already shown how incapable I was of walking away from him. I’d sunk pretty low in my desperate attempts to feel connected to my brother. So when I asked my family what about Brandon, I meant it. What could we do?
The answers were not forthcoming, from anyone. We must have all been running though similar questions, and none of us had any good answers. Mom was the one to break the silence.
“You met him?”
I nodded.
“Okay.” She breathed deeply, like she was in physical pain but determined to push through it. “Tell us about him.”
So I did. I told them everything from the first messages we exchanged to showing up at Jungle Juice. I didn’t look at Dad when I relayed how adamant Brandon was that I stay away from him. And I didn’t look at anyone when I mentioned spending time with Chase and the secondhand info I’d gathered from him. When I got to the last meeting with Brandon, the one at Selena’s work, I pitched the conversation to her and she continued it. It was strange, hearing her side, knowing that beyond that first flicker of recognition while she was singing, she hadn’t allowed herself to see Brandon for who he was. Her actions and disbelief that night had been as genuine as her anger toward me. The disbelief was gone, but the anger still simmered, though more in Dad’s direction now than mine.
Mom didn’t say a single word while we spoke. Occasionally, the whites of her knuckles showed through her tan skin, the only real sign that she was struggling with hearing about her husband’s son. Dad asked questions though, a lot of questions. It was as if Mom being there beside him allowed the floodgates to open, and it fell to me to answer. I did the best I could, but the reality was that I didn’t know a lot about my brother. I also was far from comfortable talking to Dad about him, especially given the audience we had.
I felt a genuine pang for Dad when I had to tell him that Brandon had refused all contact with us. I told him we couldn’t know what might happen in the future, but I wasn’t holding out hope that Brandon would change his mind, at least not without a major intervention, and he’d refused to hear more from me. What did give me hope, however, was watching Mom take Dad’s hand in front of me and Selena and seeing the look they shared in the wake of real but forgiven pain.
Knowing Dad hadn’t been lying to her for their entire marriage but had confessed and sought her forgiveness did mean something to me. I didn’t have to torment myself wondering if every sweet exchange between my parents might have been changed if Mom knew the truth. She did know, and her smiles and kisses were as real as they’d looked. She was still holding his hand even then.
And I felt the balance between my conflicting emotions shift in a direction I wouldn’t have thought possible even a week ago.
* * *
It was late by the time we finished talking, so Selena didn’t protest too much when Mom suggested she stay the night. Mom and Dad didn’t get up when Selena and I did. Late or not, they still had a lot to work through together, but the operative word wastogether. I carried that thought with me as Selena and I traipsed up to my room.
All her clothes were at Whitney’s, so I loaned her some shorts and a T-shirt to sleep in. Neither of us spoke until we were under the covers and staring up at the faintly glowing star stickers on the ceiling.
“Why haven’t you taken these down? We put them up when you were eight.”
“I never notice them during the day, and at night—” I shrugged “—I guess I still like them.”
Selena exhaled, and it was almost a murmur of agreement. “I put some up in my dorm room.”
I turned my head toward her. “You did?”
“I guess I still like them too.” She turned her head toward me. “It’s a lot, isn’t it?”
We weren’t talking about glow-in-the-dark stickers anymore. “Yeah.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Yeah?”
She nodded. “I wasn’t fair to you. I honestly have no idea what I would have done if I’d been the first to know.” Selena squirmed. “I couldn’t reconcile one thing being true at the expense of the other, so I blamed you. I didn’t even know I was doing it. Honestly, Dana. I didn’t mentally flip a coin or anything. I think I thought I could get past you lying, but Dad having a son? I still can’t—I mean, how is—” She stopped herself. “That doesn’t matter right now. You’re my sister and I should have believed you no matter what.”
“I wouldn’t have wanted to believe me either, but thanks.”
We were lying shoulder to shoulder in the same bed that had been our childhood flying carpet, ourDawn Treader, our hidden castle when we’d draped sheets from the ceiling fan. Our days of sharing a room had already ended. Even if we resolved everything between us, it made sense for her to stay at Whitney’s. And in a few months she’d be moving to Nashville. After having heard her sing, I knew she had a real shot at making it. Who knew where her voice would take her? We might never again be as close as we were at that moment.
“That night you met Brandon—”
“I’m sorry I didn’t believe you.”
“I know. I was going to say you sang really beautifully.”
“Really?” She shifted on her shoulder to face me.
I nodded. “It makes me hate you a little less for giving up softball.”
