by Robin Benway
Mark and Linda are there, of course, dancing to the mariachi band that’s playing in the corner of the yard. Their next-door neighbors are there, too, mostly because Mark and Linda were afraid that they would call the police because of all the noise, but they seem to be having a great time. They’re chatting with Bryson-the-pencil-holder-maker-from-the-arts-center’s parents while Bryson stands a little too close to the horn section, staring up in fascination. Joaquin hopes he doesn’t accidentally get bonked with a trumpet.
In the corner, Joaquin can see Maya and Claire chattering away, their heads together, while Lauren and her dad peruse the barbecue buffet that Linda’s set out. Claire and Maya look like they’re up to a serious conversation, but then Maya’s face breaks into a grin, and she looks so much like Melissa in that moment that Joaquin feels his chest swell.
Jessica—Jess now—is there too, along with her boyfriend. Joaquin’s not sure what he does, something with numbers and math and other people’s money, but he seems nice, so Joaquin decides that he’s good enough for Jess. She’s got her hair piled up on her head, and she’s talking to Linda as she and Mark—swing dance? Salsa? Joaquin has absolutely no idea what they’re doing—past them.
Grace is over by the drinks table, her parents talking to their other next-door neighbors, her hand entwined with Rafe’s as he stands by her side. Joaquin and Rafe have hung out a few times, and Joaquin has decided that he’s good enough for Grace. Not many people are, but Rafe is one of them. They’re going skateboarding next week.
Dr. Alvarez is there, too, Joaquin’s professor from the Intro to Sociology class he’s taking at the local community college. He thinks he might want to become a therapist like Ana, or maybe a social worker like Allison. He’s not sure yet, but he likes having options. He likes thinking about those things now. He also thinks about his dad’s family, where they might be, if they’ll be happy to meet him. He imagines grandparents and another aunt, a father who never got a chance to know him. He thinks about how a year ago, he barely had one family, and now he has three: Maya and Grace and Jess; Mark and Linda; and a family across the border, lost but not gone. Three branches on his family tree that won’t break or collapse or let him fall.
He’s talked to Dr. Alvarez a lot after class about where his dad’s family might be, and Mark and Linda have been trying to help him sort through the mountains of paperwork to see if he might be able to track him down. “It’s like a needle in a haystack,” Mark said at one point as they stared at the computer, but Joaquin didn’t mind. He knows by now that if you look hard enough for something, you’ll eventually find it.
He’s also taking Spanish classes at the college. Those aren’t going as well as he would like, but he’s trying. It’s something, at least.
Ana’s standing under the tree, chatting with her husband as well as Gus from the arts center, and Joaquin tries to sneak past them in order to grab more drinks, but they manage to wrangle him into a conversation about college and his birthday and the white-water rafting trip that Mark and Linda took him on last month. Joaquin has photos from that trip still saved on his phone, and he shows them, especially the one where Linda’s screaming bloody murder. Mark has plans to get that one blown up onto canvas for Linda’s birthday. Joaquin thinks Linda might become a single parent if that happens.
He finally goes inside to grab drinks, but then he hears voices on the stairs, and he pokes his head around the corner to see Grace and Maya sitting on the stairs. Maya’s arm is slung around her shoulders and Grace looks teary. “She’s fine,” Maya tells Joaquin. “She’s just a little emotional.”
Grace nods and points up at the framed photo of Joaquin and Melissa that’s now hanging above the staircase. Linda and Mark had it professionally framed, along with several others from the safe deposit box, and now Joaquin sees himself every time he goes up and down the stairs, or past the refrigerator, or out the front door.
“It’s just a great photo,” Grace sniffles, and Joaquin leans against the banister next to them.
“It is,” he agrees.
“She’s worked up because of tomorrow,” Maya explains as Grace dabs at her eyes with the edge of her sleeve.
“Oh, that’s right!” Joaquin says. “You ready? You need backup?”
Grace just laughs and shakes her head. “No, I’ll be okay. I need to do it by myself. And I’m going to see Rafe afterward.”
“Are you two dating now, or what?” Maya asked. “Claire and I have a bet going.”
“You bet money on my love life?” Grace gasps.
“Love life? Woohoo!” Maya raises her fists triumphantly and pumps them in the air. “Claire owes me twenty bucks!”
Joaquin just grins and tries to avoid getting accidentally punched by Maya’s victory fists as Grace groans and covers her face with her hands. “We’re figuring it out,” she says. “It’s a process.”
But Maya’s dance ends as suddenly as it begins, and even Grace looks up, surprised and sober, and Joaquin turns around to see Birdie standing there, along with her little brother and her parents. She looks as nervous as Joaquin feels. “Hi,” she says. “We got invited to the party. Hope it’s okay.”
Joaquin can’t say anything at first. “W-Who?” he manages to stammer out.
“Hi,” Grace says, standing up. “I’m Grace; this is Maya.”
“Hi,” Birdie says, but she’s still looking at Joaquin.
“Did you—” Joaquin starts to say to his sisters, but they’re already guiding Birdie’s parents and brother out into the backyard. “Right this way,” Maya’s saying. “Have you seen the lights in the trees? Beautiful. It’s like a fairy garden out there!”
The house seems even quieter with the party in full swing outside, and Joaquin stands and looks at Birdie. “Hi,” he finally says.
“Hi,” she says again, then holds out a present to him. “Oh, sorry! This is for you. Happy birthday and adoption.”
“Thanks,” Joaquin says. “Can I . . . ?” He feels as nervous as he did the day he met Birdie at school. It seems like a million years ago now, a different lifetime, a different person entirely.
“Yeah, of course,” Birdie says, and Joaquin carefully pulls off the bow and paper to reveal a framed poster. “ON THIS DAY” it says at the top in huge lettering.
“It’s this thing I found online,” Birdie says. “It tells you all the things that were popular on your birthday, like the top books, the top songs, the biggest movies. It just made me think of you when I saw it, so . . .” She trails off, her hands clasped in front of her.
“I love it,” he says, because he does. “Thanks, Bird.”
“Of course,” she says, and then she hesitates before saying, “It looks like a great party.”
“Joaquin!” someone yells from outside. “We’re taking a group photo, c’mon.”
Joaquin looks at Birdie, and she looks up at him.
“I’m sorry,” he whispers.
“You really hurt me, Joaquin,” she whispers back. “I mean, really hurt me.”
“I know,” Joaquin says. “I’m so sorry, Bird.”
“It’s just that every time I think about not having you in my life, it doesn’t feel right, you know? It’s like there’s a piece missing.” Birdie is wringing her hands in front of her. Joaquin wonders if they’re still cold, wants to reach out and hold them in his own hands. “I don’t know how you fit back in my life, if you’re a friend or my boyfriend or what, but I just know that you fit.”
Joaquin nods. “Okay,” he says, because it is okay. It will be okay. “We can talk, maybe? Tomorrow?”
“Joaquin!” Mark’s yelling from outside. “C’mon, group photo!
Both of their heads swivel toward the back door.
“Go, go,” Birdie says. “It’s your party—we can talk later.”
Joaquin just holds his hand out to her. “C’mon,” he says.
She smiles as he reaches down to take her hand, then leads her out to the lawn. The photographer arranges th
eir whole group, even the mariachis, and Joaquin stands between Birdie and his sisters and his aunt and his parents, and he thinks of Melissa.
He hopes she can see him, because he sees her now. He sees her every single day.
He hopes he can make her proud.
“Okay, on the count of three!” the photographer shouts. “One, two—”
“Three!” everybody cries.
Joaquin thinks it just might be a photo worth saving.
GRACE
Grace pulls into the parking lot of the park two minutes early.
Her phone buzzes. It’s Rafe.
They bet $20?!?!?!
I know, right? Grace texts back.
I want a cut.
I’ll let Maya know.
You there yet?
Just parked.
Okay. Call me later if you want.
Okay. I like you.
I like you, too.
Grace gets out of the car and tucks the phone into her back pocket. She doesn’t know if she’s scared or nervous or just plain terrified, but there’s no going back now. She met with her birth mother support group a few days earlier, telling them about the upcoming meeting with a voice that didn’t shake or tremble. She had thought that she would never be able to talk about Peach with strangers, but the girls in her group understood.
At first, her parents were speechless that she had gone looking for Melissa without telling them. “We said that we would help you!” they cried the next day, after Joaquin had gone home with Mark and Linda and Maya had disappeared down the street, refusing a ride from everyone.
But then they talked, Grace’s guard worn away by exhaustion and relief and gratitude. She had taken a picture of Melissa from Joaquin’s collection, and when she put it on the table between her and her parents, their anger died away and they looked at the photo, silent.
They started talking more after that.
Grace’s parents told her what it had been like to bring her home as a brand-new infant, the worry that Melissa would take her back. “We had to wait ninety days before the adoption was official back then,” Grace’s mother said, and Grace noticed for the first time that the straw in her iced tea was chewed into ribbons. “We just didn’t want to lose you, not after finally getting you.”
Grace understood. She knows what it’s like now, to lose one thing and gain something else entirely. She knows how hard she will hold on to the things she has, the brother and sister who fill a new place in her life. The spot where Peach was is still there, still open and hollow, but there are new chambers in her heart that fill her up, make her feel whole in a way she didn’t before.
Every night, she sends a small thank-you to Melissa for choosing these two people to be her parents.
Grace hasn’t seen Max in months, hasn’t heard much about him, either. It’s still hard to think about him, but mostly she just feels sad for him. She’s thought about what she would say to him. She sometimes makes epic speeches in the shower about how “one day, she might come looking for you, and she might have questions, and then you can explain everything to her, so save your apologies because I don’t need them, but you might!” Sometimes she cries, and sometimes she’s angry, but mostly it just feels good to let Max go, to move forward, to move on.
Grace sits in the parking lot, looking out at the grassy park in front of her. Her phone buzzes again and she looks down at it to see a text message from Maya.
Good luck! it says, followed by two thumbs-up symbols.
Yeah, good luck! Joaquin’s message follows right after. Call us later.
I will, Grace types back, her hands shaking a little and making it hard to press the correct keys. She sends three hearts back to them, then gets out of the car. Her hands are sweaty, and she wipes them quickly on her jeans before walking with trembling knees toward the park. It’s a beautiful day, at least. Grace doesn’t think she’s ever seen such a blue sky before.
The park is massive, but at the far edge, she sees Daniel and Catalina. Catalina spots her first and waves her over. As soon as Grace is close enough, Catalina jogs over and immediately grabs her up in a huge hug. “Grace!” she says. “I’m so glad you could come!” Grace hugs her back and feels so grateful that Peach has someone to hug her like this every single day. “You look wonderful.”
“Thanks.” Grace smiles. “Sorry, I’m just really nervous.”
Catalina’s smile is warm and steady. “Of course,” she says, “but there’s no need to be.”
Grace takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly, nods. Daniel’s crouched on the ground a few feet away, babbling something, and he turns and stands when he hears Grace.
Grace sees her hair first, dark brown curls gathered at the back of her neck, the sun shining through the trees and dancing across her shoulders. She’s wearing a tiny, blue-checked dress and tights, plus a small white sweater. From this angle, Grace can see Maya’s eyes, Joaquin’s nose and jaw, Melissa’s hair.
Grace gathers her courage, finds her voice.
“Milly?” she says.
Peach looks up.
She sees Grace.
And she smiles.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
As always, my immense gratitude to my family, who encouraged me throughout the process of writing this book. Thanks for being such troupers. I owe you coffee.
Thank you to my agent, Lisa Grubka, who talked me through every chapter of this book, including the wrong ones. Her belief that I would eventually finish this story was sometimes the light in a very dark tunnel, and I am forever grateful for all the times she read pages, gave notes, and answered my desperate emails. Thanks for being such a partner in crime over the past ten years.
I got the first ideas for this novel while sitting in a Costco parking lot, and I immediately tapped out a rambling email to my editor, Kristen Pettit. She responded, “I am loving this direction. Loving. It.” Little did we know that it would take another year before that random idea became a coherent story, but Kristen was there every step of the way, including when I lost the plot altogether (pun very much intended) and had to start over from scratch. Thank you for having my back, for letting me take my time, and for calling me the weekend before Christmas just to check in on me. I owe you a lot more than just coffee.
Thank you to the Harper team, including Elizabeth Lynch, Jen Klonsky, Kate Jackson, Sarah Kaufman, Gina Rizzo, Renée Cafiero, Kristen Eckhardt, Bess Braswell, and Claire Caterer, for taking my words and turning them into an actual, physical book. Thank you also to Philip Pascuzzo and Pepco Studio for the gorgeous cover.
This book would not exist if it weren’t for the people who let me talk to them about my characters and their stories. They graciously brought me into their lives and discussed their families, jobs, and experiences with me, and I’m both humbled by and grateful for their generosity: Noemi Aguirre; Dr. Linda Alvarez; David H. Baum; Marie Coolman; Roy, Trevor, and Jacob Firestone; Jessica Hieger; Kate Lamb; and Kim Trujillo. Thank you also to the people who chose not to be named here—your kindness does not go unnoticed. Any mistakes or inaccuracies in this book are mine and mine alone.
I’m lucky enough to be part of an incredibly generous, talented, and funny-as-hell group of YA writers here in Los Angeles. It’s possible I would still be working on the first draft if it wasn’t for our group writing dates, so thank you for that. Thank you also to Brandy Colbert, Ally Condie, Jordanna Fraiberg, Gretchen McNeil, and Amy Spalding for reading drafts, offering thoughts, and helping me with research, and to Morgan Matson for coming up with the store name Whisked Away. You are all delightful.
Approximately two-thirds of this book was written while I sat at the counter of Dinosaur Coffee in Los Angeles, so thank you to the staff for providing me with excellent coffee and a makeshift office for the better part of a year, and for not judging me when I cried in the back that one time.
An extra-special thank you for my mom, who kept the faith in this book, and in me, when I could not. She supported me through ever
y single version of this story, listened to me ramble about it for hours (sorry for spoiling the ending!), and never once doubted that I would finish it. She is the best, and I love her so much.
And finally, thank you to Joaquin, Grace, and Maya. I’ve spent more time with them than with any of my other characters, and even though they may be fictional, their struggles and triumphs feel so very real to me. I am endlessly grateful that they chose me to tell their story, and I hope they’re doing well, wherever they may be.
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ABOUT THE AUTHOR
PHOTO BY LOVATO IMAGES
ROBIN BENWAY is the acclaimed author of Emmy & Oliver; the Also Known As series; The Extraordinary Secrets of April, May & June; and Audrey, Wait! Benway’s books have been published in sixteen languages, won international awards, and been bestsellers in several countries. Formerly a bookseller and book publicist, she lives in Los Angeles. You can visit her at www.robinbenway.com.
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BOOKS BY ROBIN BENWAY
Emmy & Oliver
Far from the Tree
CREDITS
COVER ART BY PHILIP PASCUZZO
COPYRIGHT
HarperTeen is an imprint of HarperCollins Publishers.
FAR FROM THE TREE. Copyright © 2017 by Robin Benway. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the nonexclusive, nontransferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse-engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.
