“What if she doesn’t want me?”
That’s the question at the heart of my fear, at the center of my pain. I’m unwanted. Unlovable. A mistake.
Hannah draws in a deep, slow breath then looks down to where her hand still grasps my arm. She slides her touch to my wrist then forces my palm to open wide, sliding her fingers between mine and covering the back of my hand with her other one. She holds me tight, and I zero in on the feel of her pulse beating around my hand. I breathe with it, chase it, and find the same calm she seems to have found. Somehow, she’s here with me and not following Jorge back to Omaha. Her own foundation has been rocked, yet here she is, steady as a naval ship in the high seas, assuring me that my fears aren’t going to be realized.
Her lips part and she takes a few slow breaths, seemingly on the precipice of telling me something. I wait for her to work through her thoughts because anything she says that makes this moment less scary is worth my patience.
“I can’t tell you how, Dustin. I can’t because I’m not her and I wasn’t there, but there are things I’ve heard,” she says, pausing to draw in her lips and shake her head. She’s struggling, but still . . . I wait through it. Her eyes flicker up, and the moment the blueness of them opens full on my own, I see the wide open sky that waits for me. I fill my lungs at the potential. I feel the edge of bravery creeping in. “My dad could tell you more, probably.”
My heart stops as I mentally dive into past conversations with Tom. There have been moments when I’ve stopped him, and got the sense he wanted to tell me more about my childhood, or maybe about Colt and why my life was as crummy as it was.
As my eyes dip, Hannah lets go with one hand and her fingertips lift my chin, forcing my gaze back up, back into the blue. I breathe. I feel whole.
“All you have to do is ask him, Dustin. Anything you want to know. But his words aren’t mine to tell, and they’re too personal, between you and him. It wouldn’t be right for me to take that opportunity away from either of you. But I know, all the way to the very center of my heart, Dustin, that the woman who birthed you loves you very much. I can guarantee it.”
My quaking has stopped, and I swallow the dryness down while I wade in Hannah’s beautiful blue eyes a little longer. She nods slowly and I beg myself to accept it.
“Will you come with me?”
She nods.
“Of course.” Her soft smile hugs my heart. She doesn’t let go of my hand until I’m ready, and when I finally part and step out of the car, she joins me at the front and weaves our hands together. How did she get so strong?
The air smells of Hatch chiles and fresh tortillas, and even though it’s barely past eight in the morning, my mouth waters with the flavor-scented air. If that is my real mother in there, she’s a magician. Also, I’ve missed out on so many years of amazing food.
We pause at the back door and Hannah reaches for the knob, testing it. The door pulls open easily, but she closes it gently after moving it an inch.
“You should probably knock. You don’t want whomever is in there to face-plant you with a pan.”
I know she’s joking, but she also paints a very possible picture.
I swallow again, my mouth so dry I feel I might choke. I ball my hand into a fist, hovering it over the center of the door and looking to Hannah for one last push. She nods and I knock, a rush of adrenaline zipping down my spine and making my knees feel numb within half a second.
I fall back on my heels, wanting to run, but Hannah grips my hand tighter, tethering me to this place, to this moment, and I take a step forward. There’s a lot of sound behind the door, movement in a kitchen, pots and running water. But soon, a woman’s voice yells “it’s open.”
My head shakes in fast, tiny movements. It can’t be this simple. It can’t be this easy. Why would she let just anyone come in? This isn’t safe. My mother is being careless. My thoughts run the gamut from terrified to protective in a second flat, but before I can bolt, Hannah pushes the door open again and together, we step through.
“I got the mole started, but you might need to test it. I know you think I make it too spi—” It’s her. I know it from the photo. She’s facing me now, her hands in blue rubber gloves, a sink full of dishes and foamed soap at her side. The hot, steaming water streams into a second, empty sink.
Our eyes—they’re the same.
She shakes her head, seemingly snapping herself out of the momentary trance, and flips off the water. Pulling the gloves from her hands, she drops them over the metal rim of the large sink, but leaves her wide open eyes on the dishes, almost as if she’s afraid to look again. Afraid of me.
“Alysha?”
Somehow, I utter her name.
She swallows then brings her hand up to her mouth, cupping it. Tears prick her eyes. Hannah squeezes my hand and hugs my arm, holding me close, keeping me steady.
Alysha shifts her gaze back to me, eyes instantly red and cheeks damp. Her pupils expand, taking over the hazel—the color of mine. She nods and I bite my lip, my face as numb as the rest of me.
I’m not sure how long we actually spend in this bubble, staring at one another, our minds convincing ourselves that this isn’t a dream. This is happening. We’re meeting. We can touch. I can hug my mother. She can hug me back.
“You’re so . . . big.” She laughs through a cry as her hand slips away. Her bottom lip quivers, and I scan her face for more similarities between us.
“I am,” I say, and before fear grips me tighter, Hannah loosens her hold and I inch forward.
Alysha shudders, but after a breath she rushes to me and wraps her arms around me, squeezing me tighter than anyone ever has, even Hannah. She holds me to Earth as if she’s afraid I’ll fly away, and I squeeze her just as tight. Her sobs melt into the side of my neck, her head resting on my shoulder as mine does hers. She smells like the kitchen, like fresh ingredients and an early morning shower. She’s nearly exactly my height, and other than the few gray strands in her deep brown hair, our coloring is identical.
“I’ve been watching you. Your racing. That track. I’ve watched it all. I’ve seen it all,” she says through manic breaths. I bunch the back of her shirt into a fist and let myself cry, my chest cracking open. This woman who I thought didn’t want me seems to have been a guardian angel all along.
And now that I have her, I am never letting her go.
11
I feel blessed to have witnessed Dustin and Alysha’s reunion. She recognized him the moment she laid eyes on him, as I knew in my gut she would. I wasn’t sure she’d followed his career and kept tabs on him over the years, but I had a feeling she would. It’s what I would do if I ever lost my rights to Bristol. I would never be able to let her go. I would track her to the ends of the earth and dive into a bubbling volcano if I had to just to know where she existed and how long she breathed.
We’ve spent the entire day at Alysha’s restaurant. She’s a part owner, having spent sixteen years working as a server and learning from the owner’s daughter how to make each dish. The Solis family has become like her own over the years, and she’s engaged to one of the cousins. Dustin isn’t quite ready to meet his future step-father, but I think if Alysha could she would take him home with her and move him in for an entire month in an attempt to make up for twenty-five years lost.