Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 75397 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 377(@200wpm)___ 302(@250wpm)___ 251(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75397 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 377(@200wpm)___ 302(@250wpm)___ 251(@300wpm)
But this is progress.
And I’ll fucking take it.
“You never told me how it went with Frankie yesterday,” she says, back toward me.
I was going to, but the conversation took an abrupt left turn before I had the chance …
“The number didn’t work, but the address was hers,” I say. “She was pretty … shocked … I’d say. We didn’t have much time to talk because she was on her way out the door, but I learned something new about her.”
Rossi flips an omelet, twisting back to look at me. “What’s that?”
“Frankie is actually my birth mother.” Those words on my lips for the first time makes the room tilt sideways for a moment.
“What?” She sits the pan aside, turning back to face me, arms folded.
“Turns out she had me when she was fifteen,” I say. “And my parents—who are actually my grandparents—raised me as their own.”
“And you had no idea?” She wipes her hands on a dish towel.
“Not a clue.”
“No one ever told you? Not even a cousin or aunt or something?”
I shake my head.
Rossi makes her way to my side of the table, draping her arms around me. “That must have been a lot to take in yesterday—on top of everything else.”
“To say the least.” I give my daughter another hunk of banana, which she promptly tosses on the floor.
“How are you feeling?” she asks, standing back and examining me with sympathy in her serene blue gaze.
“Little bit of everything.”
“Naturally.”
“Just trying to understand how two people could give me the world—and turn their back on their own daughter.” I chuff. “I think what hurts the most, is they both took that secret to the grave.”
Rossi pulls up the chair beside me, placing her hand over mine. “I obviously didn’t know your parents, but I’m sure they had their reasons. Maybe they were trying to protect you?”
I think of Frankie’s words yesterday, the story about showing up on my birthday, seeing me so content and thinking I’d be better off without her anyway.
“The important thing is it’s not too late for the two of you to reconnect, to get to know each other …” she says. “You exchanged numbers, right?”
“Right.”
“Okay, so there’s your silver lining in all of this.” She removes her soft palm from the top of my hand. “Did she say who your biological father was or anything else like that?”
“We didn’t get to that part. She had to go to work.”
Rossi heads to the other side of the kitchen, plating the omelets, grabbing forks, and carrying everything back before taking the chair across from me.
“Rossi, I want to be in Lucia’s life,” I say. “Whatever happens—or doesn’t happen—between us, I want to be here for her. I know I’m her donor, but I want to be her father too.”
She swallows a bite, gaze averted.
“So you want custody? Is that what you’re saying?” Her tone is icy, but that’s just the fear talking.
“I promised you I’d never ask for that,” I say. “But what I am asking is for the two of you to move west.”
She coughs, eyes widening.
“After talking to Frankie yesterday, realizing everything we’ve missed out on by not knowing each other, feeling like half of me is suddenly this riddle to be solved … I don’t want Lucia to ever have to go through any of that.”
“Plenty of donor children turn out fine,” she says. “And plenty of single parents do an amazing job …”
“I’m not discrediting any of that.”
“You’re saying she needs a father figure in her life to feel complete.”
“I’m saying she needs me,” I say. “Maybe not now. But she’ll need me eventually. And I don’t want her to ever look back and wonder why I wasn’t there. And damn it, Rossi. I know you don’t need me, but you want me. Even if you refuse to admit it out loud.”
She pushes her omelet aside, silent.
“Hear me out,” I say. “Because I spent all night figuring how this is going to work. I have to be on the West Coast. You can work anywhere in the world—”
She lifts a palm. “Okay, I know where you’re going with this, and before you continue, I have family here. Our entire life is here—our doctors and our play groups and our friends. My parents. I can’t just up and leave.”
“Which is why I was about to propose that you bring your sister and your parents with you … they’re retired, yes?”
She nods.
“I’ve got a three bedroom casita on my property that they can use until they find a place of their own—which I’d be happy to assist with since the cost of living is a little higher out there,” I say. “I’ll do whatever it takes to make this work, Rossi. I can’t leave this state and not take the two of you with me. All I’m asking is that you give this a chance, that you meet me halfway.”