Catori. I’d only known one person in my lifetime with that name. The surrogate my fathers used to conceive me.
“She passed eleven years ago... I’m sorry,” Evie responded flatly, though her lips pressed together tightly.
Eleven years ago. I was thirteen.
“This document will explain things.” She pressed the file into my papa’s hands. “He’s left Isabeau quite a lot and his attorney needs to get in touch with her.”
The fact that the blonde knew my name was startling, to say the least. Saying it with the words last will, left Isabeau a lot and attorney had me beyond confused.
“What? Who left me what? And why did you mention my mother’s name? There can’t possibly be many Catoris in the world.”
Suda Kaye pressed her face against Evie’s shoulder and cried.
“Why would he do that?” My dad ignored me but looked at Evie with such gentle compassion it made my heart squeeze. Casey Collins—my dad—had the biggest heart and loved everyone for exactly who they were. My papa Ian was the fiery, super-passionate one. I always teased that Papa gave me his temper even though my lush auburn locks came straight from my dad’s genetics.
“Because he loved our mother and the children she bore, regardless of if they were his blood. He wants her legacy protected,” Evie explained with a direct, no-nonsense approach as though this was a simple business transaction when it was clear as day these two women were fighting extreme emotions. Suda Kaye was failing miserably to conceal her feelings. I was just trying to figure out why they would have them when it dawned on me what she’d said.
Her children.
As in more than one.
“Her children. Are you saying that you two...” I pointed to Evie then Suda Kaye, who lifted her watery gaze. “Are my half sisters?”
No. Freakin’. Way.
Jasper squeezed my hand as I started to tremble.
Evie looked surreptitiously at my dad and then at my papa, who hadn’t taken his eyes off Suda Kaye. The impact of what she was saying slammed into me like the first swallow of a perfect French champagne bursting on your tongue after tasting a pristine ripe strawberry off the vine.
“Catori Ross was your mother, too? Oh, my God!” You couldn’t have wiped the giant smile off my face as the possibility of my having sisters flowed through my veins. “You were donor eggs, too? And you found me! This is awesome!” I let go of Jasper’s hand and clapped, jumping up and down on the balls of my feet. My mind whirled with excitement. “I’ll betcha there’s tons of us!”
Evie tilted her head, that cool gaze seeming endless as she responded. “Not exactly. Like I said, we needed to bring these items and we’ll be on our way.” She once again reached into her purse and pulled out what looked like a business card, then set it on the counter closest to her. “When, uh, you’ve had some time, and if you want to, feel free to call that number. It’s my cell phone. We’ll be in town for a couple more days.”
“Where do you live?” my papa asked Suda Kaye, longing coating every word.
Why would he care? I mean, if they were my half sisters through in vitro, technically it would mean I was related to these women. But my biological father was Casey, not Ian.
“We live in Colorado. I’m in Pueblo and Evie is in Colorado Springs.” It was the first thing Suda Kaye had said since they arrived.
“Suda Kaye, we need to talk,” my papa said, his words a plea before he glanced at me, then Evie. “We all do.”
Evie, whom I realized was the communicator in this crowd, nodded and answered, “Yes, and we’re open to that, but I think you have something more important to talk about.” She lifted her chin in my direction and my shoulders sank.
I looked at the way Papa was shaking, my dad rubbing his back in a soothing manner as though this conversation, these two women, were a dream. Maybe a nightmare.
Oh, no. I squinted and suddenly realized why Suda Kaye seemed so familiar. My papa’s skin tone and hair color were not only similar to Suda Kaye’s, they were also downright replicas of one another. Still, the smoking gun, the knife twisting inside my heart, was looking into Suda Kaye’s watery amber gaze and seeing Papa’s unique eyes staring back.
“You’re not from donor eggs, are you?” My voice was but a whisper. So small that Jasper stepped up behind me and looped an arm around my waist, pressing his chin to the back of my neck in support.
Evie shook her head solemnly.
“I don’t understand,” I choked out as Jasper held me close and placed a kiss to my temple.
“You will soon. Thank you for having us. We’ll be going.” Evie moved to leave.
As they headed out, my papa grabbed Suda Kaye’s arm and pulled her into an embrace. He buried his tear-streaked face into her hair and I watched in confusion as his shoulders shuddered with unspent tremors. Suda Kaye shakily lifted her arms and put them around him.
What he said next fileted me from my stomach to my throat.
“I’ve dreamt of this moment. Every day of my life for the past twenty-eight years I dreamed of holding you. My daughter.” He pulled back and cupped her cheeks. “You are stunning. Just like your mother.”
“Your daughter?” My body convulsed in shock and I gasped, placing my hand over my heart.
“Babe, let her go.” My dad put his hands around my papa’s waist and attempted to pull him away.
“I don’t want to let her go.” His voice was hoarse, a guttural sound I had never heard before. As though someone were literally ripping him to pieces and he could barely speak through it. “Never again. I wish I never had...”
Tears pricked the backs of my eyes and I watched as Suda Kaye pulled herself from his hold and raced out of the kitchen, her steps thudding across the hardwood floors until the unmistakable sound of the door opening and shutting filtered through to us.
My papa crumbled into his husband’s hold, sobbing against my dad’s neck.
My heart wanted to jump out of my chest, and my arms longed to wrap around my parents, but I couldn’t move. My feet were virtually glued to the tile floor under me as I watched uncertainty, sorrow and devastation wrack my papa’s proud frame.
“I’m sorry. We shouldn’t have come.” Evie’s voice cracked as she backed farther out of the room.
“No, you definitely should have. Only I wish it was twenty-five years ago,” my dad said softly over my papa’s shoulder. “We should have pushed harder. We knew it after she left when Isabeau was three months old, but we’d made a promise.” His voice was laced with pain and regret.
Promise? What promise? My mother was with us when I was a baby? How could that be? They told me that I was handed to them at the hospital and they never saw my surrogate again. Said she up and disappeared without a trace. All they ever gave me was her name.