by A. J. Macey
“Curse words coming out, Cali girl is fired up this morning.” Reid’s voice startled me, but when I looked over and saw his soft smile, the irritation that swirled in me melted.
“Hey, babe,” I murmured, doing my best to muster up a smile. Based on his brows knitting together, I didn’t accomplish it. “Where are the others?”
“Jesse’s volunteering ran a bit long, so Kingston drove separately to get him in case they were late. So it might be another ten or fifteen before they’re here depending on traffic. Didn’t want me to possibly get in trouble for being tardy right after my suspension ended. Come here, Cali girl,” he instructed, holding his arms open. Stepping forward, I appreciated the sweet gesture as he curled me against his chest. The familiar scent of Old Spice filled my nose, his hoodie soft against my cheek.
After a long moment, Reid spoke. “What’s wrong?”
“Hey, Reid,” Kingston’s voice cut me off before I could respond, him and Jesse climbing out of King’s Chevy Impala. “Good morning, Babydoll.”
“Hi, Em,” Jesse greeted, but his head tilted as soon as he was close enough to see my face. “What’s wrong?”
“My mom never came for dinner,” I said quietly, my voice cracking as I admitted how awry the night before had gone. “She tried to apologize this morning, but honestly, I don’t know if I can forgive her anymore.”
“Oh, Babydoll, I’m so sorry.” Kingston swept his hand over my cheek lightly in comfort.
“Ugh,” Reid grumbled. “What is up with parents all being shitty lately?”
“Save for his parents,” Jesse countered, pointing at Kingston. “But I have to agree. Come on, we can talk and walk. Poor Em’s nose is bright red from the cold.”
“Well, it’s freezing out, so...” I trailed off with a smile, stepping out of Reid’s arms and starting toward the front doors.
“It’s winter, Cali girl. It’s supposed to be cold. You’re the one who loved sledding, remember?” Reid teased.
“Yeah, true, but we’re not sledding right now; we’re going to school,” I whined. Their laughter radiated around me as we finally reached the building, the air from inside brushing over my chilled skin in a blissful wave of warmth.
“Unfortunately,” Reid agreed with a frown when the bell rang. With kisses from Kingston and Reid, Jesse and I broke away from them and headed to our homeroom hand in hand.
“Em,” Jesse murmured, his words nearly lost amongst the hustle and bustle of the hall. “I didn’t want to say this in front of Reid since he’s having such a rough time after his parents kicked him out, but it’s all right to walk away from blood. She may be your mom, and you can still love and care about her, but you don’t need to keep putting yourself through things like this. Down the road, if she realizes she messed up or wants to try and bridge that gap, she can, but one thread can’t hold an entire family together. Not well at least. I just wanted to... you know... tell you that,” he stuttered slightly, his other hand coming to fiddle with one of his square stud earrings.
I didn’t say anything at first, my mind processing everything he had said. How he had known that was something I’d been worrying over was beyond me, but I was happy someone understood what I was feeling.
“But blood is thicker than water,” I said, quoting the famous phrase in hopes it would explain everything I couldn’t seem to articulate.
“Blood of the covenant is thicker than the water of the womb,” Jesse responded. “That’s the full quote.”
“Huh, the more you know,” I whispered as we sank into our seats. Jesse let me think, knowing that in the wake of everything, I needed some time to process. His hand never left mine despite his focus being on reading his textbook for the remainder of homeroom. Before I knew it, we were making our way through the halls to my next class, thankfully with no bullying from douchebag Dylan.
The longer the day went on, the more I realized Jesse was right. I had a lot on my plate to worry about with the trial, the bullying, college, work, and there was only so much of my energy I could spend on things before I was ready to pull my own hair out. A very large portion of me felt it was selfish to step back from my mom, but in my heart I felt it was what I needed to do. I had tried to reach out, but with my increasing nightmares and stress levels, I knew it was only a matter of time before my grades started to slip. By the time lunch ended, Reid and Kingston had convinced me to go talk to Ms. Rogers, so I found myself sitting in the waiting room area of the counselor’s office anxiously.
“Emma, you ready?” Ms. Rogers greeted cheerfully, her red cat-eye glasses matching her suit jacket as she smiled over at me. Nodding, I grabbed my bag and followed. “So, anything in particular you wanted to talk about since you came to see me?”
“Uh,” I started, sinking into the seat I always took, “I don’t know, I guess?”
“I’m here for you to talk to regardless of what it is. This is a safe place,” she reassured when I hesitated.
That was all it took, and the dam finally broke. Everything that had been going on, not just with my mom, but my sleep issues, the trial, all the random tidbits that had been plaguing me came tumbling out. Ms. Rogers listened without interrupting, no judgement coloring her face as I talked. By the time I was done, I felt emotionally raw yet lighter than I had in a while. Everything that I’d been dying to get off my chest for weeks had finally been purged. I’d hoped to talk about all of it with my mom, but since that hadn’t worked out, I really appreciated Ms. Rogers’s open-policy and reassuring attitude. Talking about everything couldn’t make all these issues go away, but they definitely felt less overwhelming; in fact, I felt... good.
“I’m sorry it’s been such a rough time for you lately, Emma. This might be a bit blunt, but have you considered therapy?”
I sat quietly for a moment, mulling over her question before finally responding. “I think I’d like to.”
This was my life, and I didn’t want nightmares or stress to take it over, and when Ms. Rogers gave me an encouraging smile, I knew I had made a good decision.
“Emma, that you?” my mom hollered when the door shut. Who else would it be? I thought sarcastically but gave an affirmative anyway. “Once you put your bag away, can you come here please?”
“Yeah,” I called back before stepping into the room. Shucking my backpack onto my bed, I hung up my coat and placed my shoes in their rightful spot in my closet. When I got to the main level, the thought struck me that she had told me there was someone coming by tonight.
A man I didn’t recognize sat at the table, his focus on my mom before turning to me at the sound of my footsteps. He wore a suit but no tie, and his well-groomed hair was graying at the temples. Warm brown eyes, clean-shaven face, and strong jaw. His demeanor was relaxed yet confident. Something about him looked oddly familiar, but I couldn’t place my finger on what exactly.
“Emma, this is Samuel Holden,” my mom introduced when she saw me standing at the top of the stairs, her hand gesturing for me to come closer. When I neared the kitchen where they were, I noticed there was a hint of worry in my mom’s gaze. Well, that’s not a good sign. It took her a moment to finally continue, adding, “He is your...”
“Biological father?” I finished when she trailed off.
My mom’s eyes widened sharply before she schooled her expression, but even then she couldn’t find much to say, her mouth opening and closing a few times. I knew there should have been some kind of shock, or at least irritation that my mom would dump something so massive on me without the slightest hint of warning, but there wasn’t any. I felt mostly desensitized, almost numb, as if my brain had finally started to accept how little control I seemed to have in my own life. Hey, at least I’m getting some answers without even having to talk to Mom about this, I thought, trying to see some positives in the bizarre situation.
Turning my attention to him, I realized what was familiar. He looked sort of like me with a lean body type and butt chin, and the more I looked, the more I recogniz
ed traits I had too. He didn’t appear rattled that I had blurted that out there, a small grin appearing as he stood.
“Yes, Emma, I’m your father,” he told me, his voice warm and kind as he stuck his hand out for me to shake. “It’s nice to finally meet you. You can call me Sam if you want.”
“Missed opportunity there, Sam,” I joked, grabbing his hand to shake. “Could have done a Darth Vader impersonation. Did you know that Yoda was originally going to be played by a monkey in a mask and a cane?” Sam laughed at my lame joke, putting the sliver of nerves that had started to worm into my chest at ease.
“I didn’t know that, and you’re right. That was definitely a missed opportunity, but did you know the original ending to Return of the Jedi was that Luke turned to the dark side?”
“I do now,” I said with a smile. So that’s where I got that quirk from... or at least my love of facts.
“Emma, can I ask how you learned about David not being your biological father?” my mom asked, coming out of her stupor enough to jump back into the conversation.
“Dad told me a few weeks after I got back from Cali at Christmas,” I admitted, knowing that he would tell her the truth if she asked him. If they’re even on speaking terms, I thought. “There was never a time to really bring it up and ask you.” My words weren’t meant to be harsh, but with her lips pursing, I knew she probably took it as an insult.
“I see. Sam, if you would excuse me for a moment.” When he gave a nod, she turned, walking down the hall to her bedroom and closing the door. At first I was confused at what she was doing, but after a few moments, I heard her talking angrily, either to my non-biological father or leaving him a very seething message.
“So, Emma,” Sam started hesitantly as if my mom wasn’t nearly shouting on the other side of the house. “I’m sure this is pretty weird for you, but I do really want to try and get to know you. If you’d like, of course. I know I can’t replace David and that father-daughter relationship, but—”
“I’d like that,” I cut him off, shuffling awkwardly in place. I had wanted to know more about my biological father, about my family and how things had turned out the way that they had, but I couldn’t deny that it was weird. I was glad he was making the offer because I’d had no clue how to start off that topic of conversation. “I’m sure it’ll be an adjustment though. I’m not too good with change.”
“Completely understandable. Anywhere you’d want to start?” he questioned, taking his seat back at the table. Following suit, I sank across from him, mulling over his question.
“What do you do for a living?” There were a multitude of questions I wanted to ask, but that was the first that had popped into my mind, and it seemed safe enough as a start.
“I work with your mom, actually,” he explained. As soon as he said that, it clicked.
“Wait... Holden, as in Holden Marketing?”
“Yup, your mom works for me. Well, more with me than for me,” he clarified.
Holy crap, my father is my mom’s boss… that would mean…
“How long have you known about me?” I blurted out.
“A few years now,” he admitted, a grimace passing over his face briefly. “It was a shock at first, but your mom told me more about you, and then when things started to go south in California, I offered her a position at the marketing firm.”
“So... are you seeing each other?” I grew more confused by every answer. Has my mom really been talking to and seeing my father this whole time with no intention of telling me?
“We are now, but we weren’t in the years that I learned about you. When the divorce process started, we decided it would be worth a try. Sorry, this is probably really odd to hear, and if I say too much or make you uncomfortable, please let me know,” he reassured, rambling in his nervousness. Sam looked cool as a cucumber, but I could tell by the way his words started to rush together and his fingers tapped lightly on the table that he was nervous.
How was I able to tell? Because it was the same thing I would do, to the point that it was kind of freaky to see so much of me in a stranger.
“I guess that explains the long work hours,” I muttered under my breath.
“Those really are for work,” he countered with a sheepish smile. The timer on the oven went off, startling me from my swirl of questions. Getting up, I went over and opened the door, seeing the lasagna I had made the night before warming on the rack.
“So what was the emergency last night?” I asked as I grabbed oven mitts and pulled out the dish. I hadn’t even realized anything was being cooked until the timer dinged. My attention had been too focused on not messing up this first meeting… or letting the growing urge to run back to my room get any more prevalent. Though I would definitely love to get away from the awkwardness that’s sure to come when my mom returns. But hey, at least I get to have dinner with my mom, I tried to tell myself hesitantly, but the statement only made me grumble.
“Oh, no emergency, just trying to finalize some details but that didn’t take too long. After that, it was just dinner,” Sam explained, getting up from the table and searching the cabinets briefly before finding the plates.
My face was flat, my nodding seeming almost robotic. So my mom hadn’t had an actual emergency, at least not one that would have kept her from dinner with me. For some reason, it didn’t faze me, becoming just one more thing that couldn’t hurt me in the midst of my numbed state. What it did do was solidify the decision that had been dancing in my mind since I’d talked to Jesse and Ms. Rogers; if Mom wanted to work on things between us, she could instigate it from now on.
“Emma, your mom told me about having forgotten dinner with you last night, and from there the idea of dinner tonight was born; we wanted to make up for it.”
“We or you?” I blurted out, my eyes immediately widening when I realized I had said that cynical thought out loud. “Did you know T-shirts were invented in 1904 and marketed to bachelors who couldn’t sew or replace buttons?”
“Smart marketing move on their part, and to answer your question, it was my idea about dinner. I don’t want you to feel like I was trying to take over all of your mom’s time, but I really wanted to meet you,” he said with a shrug.
“Two birds, one stone thing?” I surmised, my lip twitching with a smile. It hurt to hear that my mom had in fact forgotten about me—again—but part of me was happy, though admittedly slightly off-put, knowing that someone I’d never met before seemed to care about how I felt. Why would a stranger care about me when my own mom can’t seem to bother? As soon as the question was in my head, I knew the answer.
He wasn’t just a stranger; he was my dad.
“Yeah, two birds one stone thing,” he agreed with a matching smile. “Want me to cut this up?” Pointing to the lasagna, he waited for my answer. When I nodded, he slid over and took the oven mitt I held out for him.
As he worked, I looked at him—really looked at him. I had always thought I looked like my mom with my hair and eye color, but now that Sam was here, I realized that wasn’t the case. Yeah, we had similar shades of dark brunette almost black hair, but the specific tones in his hair were almost identical. His skin tone was only a shade tanner than mine, and he had the same hint of golden honey tones in his brown irises.
“Did you know that because the number of possible combinations of genes isn’t infinite, there are probably at least seven humans that look the same as you?” he rattled off randomly, and my cheeks burned at being called out for staring.
“How did you know that’s what I was doing?” I countered, crossing my arms over my chest defensively.
“Can you tell me that wasn’t what you were doing?” Sam smiled, looking over as he held up an empty plate. Grabbing it, my eyes narrowed on him playfully, feeling oddly at ease with our banter.
“...No,” I muttered, sticking my tongue out in jest, only making him laugh more. I was feeling lighter, happier here in the house than I had in months, and if I was honest with myself, I lo
ved that home felt like a home.
“Sorry about that.” My mom sighed in irritation, her cheeks flushed bright pink as she walked back into the room. “Where were we? Oh, right. Yes, Emma, Sam is your biological father, and I felt with everything going on recently it would be good to have a father figure back in your life.”
“Uh...” I tried to come up with something to say, not seeing the connection a man that I had literally just met would have with everything going on currently. Does she even know what all I’m going through?
“Well, you’ve changed since the divorce,” she explained, her tone hard, her icy gaze daring me to argue. “The major difference was you no longer had David in your life, so I felt it was best to introduce you to Sam. I also had hoped you would be mature enough to handle meeting your biological father. Was I wrong?”
“We’re getting along great, Erin,” Sam reassured her. I appreciated his assistance in the matter since my mom refused to see anything without her own jaded views. Even with that, it still sat sour in my stomach that this meeting had somehow become about the incorrect fact that I needed some semblance of control from events in my life. Why can’t it be that I just deserve to know who my biological father is?
“That’s good then, is anyone hungry? I’m assuming so since food’s dished up.”
“Emma?” Sam jumped back in. “You hungry, or do you have homework to do? It’s been quite a while since I was in high school, but I remember the workload.”
“I have a little time,” I murmured, curiosity getting the better of me. As we dished up the salad from the fridge, the silence grew, and the only noise was the shuffling of our movements and the plates and silverware clinking together. Nerves and anxiety started to build while we all took our seats around the table. Had it just been my mom and me, I think it would have been even worse, but for whatever reason, Sam’s presence helped. Hopefully he’ll be more open-minded than Mom. I grimaced.
