And that could change everything.
5
Romy
My hands are sweating, my belly is a swarm of hummingbirds, and my jaw aches. I walk into Rooster Coffee Roasters and sweep the place with my nervous gaze. A man sits near the fireplace, alone. Is that him?
He looks up at me.
It’s him.
He smiles as he stands, but his eyes are shadowed with apprehension. This is nerve-racking for him too.
I move toward him. I have no idea how to address him.
“Romy?” he asks.
I nod.
“I thought so. You look like your mom.”
“I’ve been told that.” I attempt a smile, but my lips are stiff. I extend a hand to shake even though that’s weird.
He takes my hand in both of his, studying my face. “You’re even more beautiful.”
“Th-thank you.”
“Have a seat. I’ll get you a coffee. What would you like?”
“Um. I’ll have a cold-brewed coffee, please.”
“You bet.”
I set down my purse and covertly watch him as he approaches the counter to order. He’s a good-looking man—I’d say about six feet tall, and fit, with a short beard that’s silvery, his mustache still dark. His brown hair is silver at the temples, and his eyes are creased attractively at the outer corners.
He returns moments later and sets our drinks on the small table. He also bought two scones—my favorite kind, vanilla bean. “I don’t know if you’re hungry.” He takes his seat. “But I can’t resist these scones when I come here.”
“I love these scones.” Our eyes meet, and a smile tugs at my mouth. “Something we have in common.”
“Yeah.” He smiles too. “So. This is… strange.”
“No kidding.” I pick up my cup and take a sip. It’s strong and delicious. “I don’t really know how to do this.”
“Me neither.” His smile pushes up those eye wrinkles. “We’ll figure it out.”
“Yes.”
He gives off an air of assurance, of calm refuge. It settles me.
“Where do we start?” he says. “Should I tell you about your mom and me?”
“Okay.”
He tells me the story of how they met and fell in love. He tells me that he loved my mom’s kindness, how steady and trustworthy she was.
I nod, my straw between my thumb and forefinger. “Steady. Yes, she was definitely a rock.”
“She had to be, to raise you as a single mother.” He pauses. “I never knew about you, Romy. I swear.”
I believe him. I bob my head.
“She made her decision not to tell me, and I can only guess at her reasons.” He eyes me. “Did she talk to you about that?”
“No.” I suck on my bottom lip. “Talking about you was very clearly off-limits. She didn’t say that outright, but anytime I asked questions, she’d give me the barest info and shut things down.”
His mouth firms and he drops his gaze. For a moment he says nothing. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s not your fault.”
“No, I mean I’m sorry that’s how it went for you. For a child who wanted to know her father.”
“I guess I’m sorry too then… for a father who never knew he had a daughter.”
Our eyes meet in shared understanding. My lips quiver into a smile.
“Tell me more about you,” he says.
I tell him about college, my career as a software designer, my friends, and my uncharacteristic decision to take the DNA test.
“Your half sister still hasn’t given us a good explanation of why she took the test.” He frowns. “But I guess I’m glad she did.”
We smile at each other again.
Then I talk about Mom and her ovarian cancer. How she fought so hard but in the end couldn’t win. I talk about our life as I grew up, Mom’s determination to be a good mom, all the things she did for me.
“She never married?”
“No.” I tilt my head. “She occasionally dated. It never turned into anything more. I rarely even met the guys.”
His expression turns sad as he nods.
He tells me more about his family, his wife Cassie, his twin daughters Felise and Magan, the family business he’s worked in his whole life, along with his two brothers. “My dad… your grandfather… started the company, and he still likes to think he runs things.” His smile turns wry. “We make sure he’s still involved in some decisions.”
“That’s good.”
I’ve long finished my scone and iced coffee, and over an hour has passed by the time I think to look at my phone.
“Would you like to meet the rest of the family?” Joe asks.
I lift my head up and down in slow assent. “If they’d like to meet me.”
“They’ve already said they do. Let’s arrange a time for you to come for dinner. Saturday?”
“I can do that.”
He gives me his address. We already have each other’s phone numbers. We stand and leave the coffee shop. On the sunny sidewalk, he faces me. “I’m so glad to have this chance to meet you and get to know you,” he says quietly.
I suck in a shaky breath. “Me too.”
He leans down to give me a quick kiss on the cheek. “See you Saturday.”
We head in opposite directions, my car parked around the corner. My head is buzzing, and I start to walk through a red light I’m so distracted.
This is amazing. That guy is my father. He doesn’t look like an axe murderer or a rapist. He seems kind, with an impression of strength, security, and wisdom. I still don’t know exactly what happened between him and my mom, but the fact that she never fell in love with anyone else leads me to believe she loved Joe a lot. He talked about her as if he loved her too. Why didn’t things work out with them? It sounds like they were young. I may never know. But at least I’ve found my family.
TRACE
It’s Friday night, and my buddies are going to the Hearty Cow Bottles & Bites to watch the Cubs play in Pittsburgh. I walk into the bar, and a wall of noise smacks me in the chest. The place is packed, baseball on every TV. I spot Garrett in the middle of the bar and head toward him. Also here are Lincoln, Miles, and Wes.
We all greet each other with bro shakes and back slaps, and I take the empty stool at the high-top table. They’ve already ordered beers and nachos. Garrett signals a waitress, and she speeds over with a big smile.
“I’ll have a Blond Witch.” It’s sort of a joke with my friends, but it’s a nice, light ale.
She nods and looks around. “Anyone else need another?”
They’re all good, so she zips away.
I’ve known these guys since we attended the Academy, so since we were sixteen.
“How come you’re late?” Garrett asks.
“I’m not that late.” I help myself to a nacho piled with beef and cheese. “I had to go home and let Cheddar out.” Cheddar’s my dog, and it’s true. What I don’t say is that I also got lost in an old grimoire with some interesting resurrection spells I’ve never seen before.