I was sitting by the window today, perched upon the bench with a Billy Jensen book at my feet from my sister’s collection, when Adam showed up. He was wearing dress pants, a light blue button-down, and a white lab coat. He kissed the top of my head and sat across from me; his hazel eyes searched mine momentarily before they fell on the book at my feet. He picked it up and turned it over to read the back.
“Have you started reading it?” He glanced up at me.
“Not yet.”
“How long have you been sitting here?”
“What time is it?”
“Six thirty.” He checked his watch and looked at me again.
“So, I guess . . . five hours?”
“Just staring outside?”
“Just thinking.”
“What have you been thinking about?”
“Just life.” I shrugged a shoulder.
“Why won’t you come live with me, Eva?”
My bottom lip trembled. I could practically hear the heartache in his voice and it killed me. He’d asked me to go live with him as soon as I got out of the hospital a week ago and I’d said I’d think about it, as if there was so much to think about. My lease on my apartment would be up in a few weeks; they’d called me from the school saying there was an opening for a first-grade teacher that I would be perfect for. They’d even hire me while I waited to get my certification, since I was only two classes away from graduating. Adam was hot, smart, caring, ambitious, and I loved him. Really, what was there to think about? Nothing.
He set the book down and scooted forward, closing the distance between us. I lifted my legs and let him lift me onto his lap, setting my head on his chest. Closing my eyes, I listened to his heartbeat, took comfort in his scent.
“Tell me what to do,” he said against my hair. “If you want me to stay here with you and hold your hand, I will. If you want me to carry you out of here, I will. You just need to tell me.”
“I just need time,” I whispered, tears rolling down my cheeks.
“Then I’ll give you time.” He kissed the top of my head and pulled away, wiping my tears with his thumbs. “I love you, you know that, right?”
“I know you do.”
He smiled. He didn’t even look hurt by the fact that I hadn’t said it back. Instead, he leaned in, kissed me, and stood. He walked over to the box he brought and uncovered it on his way back over.
“Happy birthday, Eva.” He walked over with it and set it between us on the bench.
I began to cry, and as the door opened and Karen, Stella, Dr. Thompson, Will, Mae, Logan, Nora, Wolf, and Nolan walked inside, I felt myself cry harder. When I looked at the cake, really looked at it, I realized it said Happy Birthday, Eva, Stella & Wendy. Stella walked over and set a hand on my shoulder as they sang to us. We both wiped the tears from our faces, and as we blew out the candles, I wished Wendy was finally at peace, and that I’d have endless more birthdays just like this one, surrounded by these people.
Epilogue
Eva
More families come forward in a lawsuit against esteemed psychotherapists Debbie and Neil Maslow. After some sinister information about their famed Twins Study was brought to light, more families of multiples who had been ripped apart have come forward looking for justice.
Switching off the news, I flung the remote control to the couch beside me. I was tired of following this news story. It was maddening enough that we were living it and the trial hadn’t even started. Stella said she’d stopped watching it altogether. Since the whole ordeal, she’d started openly dating Cameron. She spent her entire life worried about coming out, because of church, and her father and brother, but when she finally told them, the only thing she received was support. Even Karen, who hadn’t been accepting of things like that in the past was happy my sister felt safe enough to be herself around us and always invited Cameron over to her now weekly barbecues. I’d moved in with Adam the day after my birthday. It felt right.
Opening up my computer, I continued working on my paper. It was the last one of the semester before I graduated. The last one until I started working on my master’s in the fall. I hadn’t planned on it originally. Originally, I thought I would just get a job in the small parish school, but I couldn’t after everything. My phone rang with a 607 area code number. It was the fifth time this week they’d called and left no message, so I answered.
“Hello?”
There was silence on the other end.
“Hello?”
“Hi.” It was a woman’s voice.
“Um. Hi?”
“This is Penelope.” She paused. “Your mother. Your birth mother.”
“Oh.” I shut my laptop. “Hi.”
“I’m sorry it took so long for me to call.”
“No. I mean, you were doing the mute thing.”
“I was a coward,” she said. “From the beginning. They brought us to this country the moment they found out I had triplets and then they ripped you away from me. And I let them.” Her voice was calm, soothing, and very matter-of-fact. “I’m sorry. I should have stood up for you. For myself.”
“Yeah. I mean, you should have, but it’s fine. I mean, it’s not fine, but it’s over, what can we do?” I shrugged, all nonchalant, even though she couldn’t see me through the phone line, but deep down I was angry. My sister was dead and this woman was just now calling me? “Why are you calling now?”
“I just needed to apologize. I didn’t see it. Not until Wendy . . . ” She let her words hang. “And by then it was too late.”
“It was too late.” My chest ached at the mention of her name.
“She made the ultimate sacrifice for us.”
“She did,” I said, my voice breaking before I cleared it. “I accept your apology.”
“We’re all just trying to survive, you know? We ignore the things that hurt us and box the ones we think will break us. I think that’s what I was doing all those years.”
“You were my daycare teacher,” I said. “You were there and said nothing.”
“I only took that job to be closer to you, but then I met Karen and I knew she loved you, so I stepped away. She did better than I could have.”
I nodded, unable to say anything past the knot in my throat. Karen and I had many conversations about both of our past words and actions and agreed to let bygones be bygones. The only thing we could do now was move forward and do better.
“I’m sorry I called,” she said.
“No, thank you for calling. It’s . . . it’s good to know you cared.”
We said our goodbyes and hung up. I couldn’t be sure how much time passed while I just held the phone in my hands and stared at the wall, thinking about that conversation, but I knew that by the time Adam got home, it was dark out.
“Hey.” He set down his keys on the table by the door and slid off his shoes before walking over. He was holding a bouquet of wildflowers in one hand and a brown takeout bag in the other. When he reached me, he leaned in and kissed me. “How was your day?”
“It was . . . interesting.” I sat up straighter. “I just got a call from my mom?”