Total pages in book: 115
Estimated words: 108650 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 543(@200wpm)___ 435(@250wpm)___ 362(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 108650 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 543(@200wpm)___ 435(@250wpm)___ 362(@300wpm)
Dad. She got to call him dad. He was her dad.
It was such a simple word but such an important privilege.
“Years.” My fist clenched against my thigh.
“The obituary was… That was a bad choice. I see that, now.” Her large dark eyes fixed on mine earnestly. “But you weren’t a part of our lives. And we just didn’t think about you.”
That stung, but it was oddly comforting at the same time. I hadn’t been purposely omitted or ignored. I’d just been forgotten. In a time of great stress, they’d been concerned about their family, and no matter the blood that made us relation, I wasn’t a part of that family.
And that wasn’t Susan’s fault.
The rigidity in my muscles eased some. “I know it’s easy to lose track of stuff when you’re in the middle of a loss like that.”
She nodded gratefully at that small concession. “Don’t be angry with me, but I read your book. On the flight out here. I know that you lost someone.”
I didn’t want to talk about that with her. Just like she had the privilege of calling Joey Tangen “Dad”, I had the privilege of keeping Emma private and close.
I changed the subject. “I hope you’re not here because you think you have to answer for him or something. You don’t. You weren’t even born when he decided to split.”
That was another thing I tried to keep in mind. I wasn’t exactly old and wise, and she was even younger than me. In my late twenties, I was only, just now, realizing the effects of time.
“No, I don’t feel like I have to do penance for him or anything. I’ve actually been struggling, since I found out about you. I’ve wanted answers, you know?”
Did I know? I scoffed. “Um, yeah. I’m familiar with that. Except the answers I wanted were more along the lines of ‘what’s wrong with me that my own father would abandon me’?”
Calm down, Sophie. This isn’t the pain Olympics.
“This is hard for you.” She didn’t say she understood or try to compare our experiences, which I appreciated. “If you don’t want to have any contact with us…honestly, it might be better.”
My heart folded in on itself. I hadn’t known what to expect when I stepped into the room. Being welcomed into the family, reunited with people I hadn’t known I’d lost? That hadn’t exactly been at the forefront of my mind. At least, not in a way I could articulate until she said those words, and I saw the option snatched away.
My words scraped from my dry throat. “Well. Thanks for coming all this way to tell me that.”
“No, that’s not what I—” A tear fell from her eye, and she grabbed for her purse. The tissue she pulled out was crumpled; had she been crying on her way here?
I was taking out my anger at Joey Tangen on a daughter that he’d cherished, but victimized, too. I’d never known him. She probably felt like she hadn’t, either.
“Susan…” My stubborn heart wouldn’t apologize. “Neither of us knows how to be, right now. I’m mad, but not at you. Not really.”
“Yeah.” She nodded vigorously as she wiped her eyes. “I’m mad at him.”
Maybe that anger would be the force that united us?
“For so many reasons,” she added. “And especially for the position he’s put me in, right now. Because I think… I mean, I’m pretty sure you’re about to hate me.”
“Why?” Foreboding rose in me like a curl of smoke warning me of a fire to come.
“Because I’m here to ask you for something.”
Money. It was my first thought, not because I saw her as poor or less than me, but because I didn’t have anything else to offer. I summoned my inner Neil to phrase what I said next. “Perhaps you should simply come out and say it.”
It sounded better than just, “How much?”
“I have—we have—another sister.” She took a deep breath, and her chest shook. “She’s sick.”
Well, that was better than, “My husband sent me here looking for an investor.”
“Okay…do you need help with medical bills or…” God, that sounded so crass. Let me give you money, so you can go away.
“N-no. Well, yes. But that’s not…” She paused, took another long breath. “She needs a kidney.”
Well, let me just pull one out of my desk drawer.
No.
Wait.
“I-I’m sorry, are you—”
“It’s a genetic disorder, Alport syndrome. It’s on Mom’s side. So, I can’t donate, she can’t donate. Dad didn’t have any brothers or sisters, so…” Her face crumpled, and she couldn’t hide that she was crying. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have come.”
“No, no, wait!” I practically shouted as she moved to stand. “Don’t leave. I just need a minute.”
A kidney? That was a pretty big fucking ask—especially in our situation. Would she had even come here or contacted me, again, at all if not for a body part?