“To . . . there was just never a good time,” Dad said.
“Well, now’s a good time.”
Vicki stood. “I’ll leave you both to it.”
“Thank you, Vicki.” Dad patted her hand and turned back to face me. “I’ve wanted to tell you, Ara.”
“I don’t doubt that, Dad.”
“I just . . . after I left your mom, she forbid me to tell you. She thought you’d want to leave her and find your, what she called, “real parents”. Not that she felt that way, but she thought you would. We planned to tell you once you turned eighteen, but—”
“But you couldn’t do it.”
“Not after everything that happened.”
“Everything? What do you mean?” The way he said that sentence made me think for a second that he knew about Drake arresting and torturing me.
“You know, Mom dying and you moving here—all that heartache, then breaking up with Mike. I didn’t want to complicate things further.”
I nodded. “And, you know, I appreciate that, Dad.”
“Really?
“Yeah. I’m not sure I could've coped with the truth then, but . . . I can now.”
“Okay then.” He leaned forward, propping his elbows on the table. “What would you like to know?”
“Her name. My mom’s name.”
He smiled fondly. “Her name was Rose.”
“Was?”
“Sadly, honey, she passed away giving birth to you.”
My mouth opened as if I knew what to say, but I didn’t. I just stared at Dad’s face, waiting for him to speak.
“She was just a child when she had you, Ara, sixteen, actually—”
“Sixteen?”
“Yes. She thought she was in love with this boy, and they . . . well, you know how it goes. Nine months later, you were born.”
“So, well, how did you come to adopt me? I mean, did you know Rose?”
“Rose was. . .” He looked down. “She was my baby sister, charged to my care after my mother passed away.”
Sister? I never even knew he had a sister. “Did my mom know her, too?”
“Yes.” He smiled fondly. “Rose and Eleanor were close, you know. Eleanor was the support Rose needed then. I just . . . I was a guy. I just didn’t know what to do with a pregnant sixteen-year-old.”
“So, then. . .” I just felt more confused about it all. “Did you plan to adopt me all along, or was that forced on you after Rose died?”
“It was never forced on us, Ara.” He shook his head impatiently. “It was our choice. Rose planned to raise you herself. But. . .”
“But she died.”
“And you became our little blessing.”
I truly believed him as he said that. I could tell from his voice that no matter how much pain I’d brought him, there had always been more joy. “Did Rose ever get to hold me?”
He nodded. “For a while. You were nearly a month early, so we all knew you might not survive, but we never imagined we’d lose Rose.”
“How did it happen? How do people just die from giving birth, Dad?”
“We don’t know.”
“How can you not know?” I asked, getting louder.
“She was in a car accident, honey, and went into early labour. She didn’t have any major injuries, so they let her give birth naturally. And . . . when you were born, this pretty little blue baby, and Rose held your tiny little hand, the reality of it hit her harder than we imagined.” He shook his head. “Some say she died of a broken heart—that she couldn’t live in a world where her baby was dead.”
“But I lived!”
“Yes. And I wish she’d known that.”
“So, if she’d held on just a few more seconds—”
“We don’t know, Ara. No one can know God’s plan,” he said softly in the ‘dad’ tone that always made things feel better. “But I think she knew, deep inside, that you’d survive.”
“Why? How?”
“Because she looked me right in the eye that day and asked me to take care of you and, a second later, she slipped away and you started crying.”
I couldn’t breathe. I sat with my lips slightly parted, picturing it all.
“Eleanor came back in and she wrapped you up and kissed Rose on the head, promised she would never let you go.”
My shaky hand moved to cover my mouth.
“So, we adopted you. But Eleanor and I . . . we. . .”
“What?”
“We were never really together, Ara.”
“What?”
“We made a pact to raise you as our own. But we weren’t married. She changed her name so all three of us shared the same surname, and I loved her, Ara. I loved Eleanor like my own family. But not like a husband loves a wife.”
“It was Eleanor who gave you your second name—Rose,” Vicki said softly, sitting down beside Dad again. “She wanted you to always carry a part of your mother.”
“And. . .” I took a jagged breath and steadied my tears. “Who’s my father?”
“I’m sorry, Ara.” Dad shook his head. “I went to find him a few years ago, but all I found was his sister Mavis. She told me he’d been deployed to Iraq after nine-eleven, and was killed in the line of duty.” Dad hung his head. “He never made it home.”
The reality sunk through me, dragging my body into the ground. I was too late. If I’d found out when I was younger, I might have at least seen my father, even once, and the weight of the unknown came down on me hard, undoing all the hopes I had for future where I knew him. How was that possibly fair? “What was his name?” I asked, pressing my thumb to my chin to stop it shaking.
“Hayden Matthews, and he looked. . .” Dad smiled, but his eyes held all the sadness of things gone by. “He looked very much like you.”
“Dark hair?”
“Yes.”
“Blue eyes?”
“No.” His smile warmed. “Those were from Rose.”
“And . . . you say you’re her brother?”
“Yes.” He nodded, and I almost believed him, save for the fact that David told me this man, who I called my father, had a ‘distant’ ancestral connection to me. Certainly not close enough to be my uncle. “Were . . . were you her adopted brother?”
His eyes narrowed. “Why would you ask that?”
I turned away.
“Ara, honey. Look at me.”
My eyes shifted sideways. Dad’s arm was right in direct line of the camera. I knew his hand was against the screen—trying to reach out to me. “I know that everything you thought you knew about yourself has just fallen apart, but I love you, and I—”
“I love you, too, Dad.” I placed my fingertips to the screen. “I’ve just got so much going on right now. I . . . I don’t know how to cope with it all. And I’m not mad at you. I’m not upset. I just. . .”
“You just need a hug?”
I nodded, wiping my cheeks.
“Where’s David?” Vicki asked. “He should really be here for this.”
“He’s away on business,” I said, sobbing. “And I can’t get hold of him.”
“Why?” Dad asked, his tone flooding with worry.
“He’s just not answering his phone.”
“Did you have a fight?” Vicki asked.
I shook my head.
“But things aren’t okay, are they?” Dad said.
I shook my head again. “Dad? I . . . was anyone in my family ever. . .”
“Ever?” he prompted.
“Infertile.”
He sat back in his chair, looking at Vicki. “Honey, are you trying to have a baby?”
I didn't even have time to speak; Vicki butted in with, “Ara, you're too young. You're barely—”
“I know how old I am, Vicki, and I don't mean to sound nasty, but it’s not up to you.”
“Why would you want a baby, Ara?” Dad asked. “You’ve only just married, and—”
“David’s going to die,” I said, and my eyes went wide around my shock. I didn't mean to say that, but it just slipped out. I guess I just needed to tell someone—needed someone to know how helpless and scared I felt all the time. But as I looked into both Dad and Vicki’s mortified faces, I wished I hadn’t said it.
“I'm so sorry, Ara.” Vicki reached out and touched the screen. “Is it cancer?”
I looked at Dad, swallowing the lump in my throat. “I . . . yeah,” I said, because I wasn’t sure they’d understand if I told them he was going to kill a vampire to void an ancient contract.
“Oh, Ara.” Vicki burst into tears. “I'm just so, so sorry.”
“How long?” Dad asked, broken inside but composed outside, as he always was.
“A few months.” I wiped my nose, sniffling. “We were hoping to have the happy news of a baby before he…” My voice broke.
Dad sighed, lowering his head into his hands.
“It’ll be all right, Ara,” Vicki said, rubbing Dad’s back.
“Why do people always say that?” I buried my face too. “You know it won't. He's going to die. And we can't even fall pregnant. What if it’s me, Dad?”
He looked up.
“What if it’s something wrong with me? That means I ruined his only chance to know he was gonna be a dad before he. . .” I stared at the wall for a second. “There’s nothing after this for him. He doesn't get to go on. He’ll be gone, and I wanted him to know he was going to have a little girl before he went.”
“Oh, Ara, please don’t think that way,” Vicki said. I could see how badly she just wanted to hold me, but we were divided by what they thought was thousands of miles. “It’ll happen. I’ll pray for it everyday, I promise. You’ll have your little baby before he dies.”
“If prayers could make me fall pregnant, Vicki, I already would be. But I just don’t think I’m meant to be a mom.”
Dad reached out and touched the screen again. “Maybe you should come home for a bit. It might—”
“I can't do that, Dad. We have a life here. We have friends and responsibilities.”
“But you have family here,” Vicki reasoned.
“I have family here, too,” I said softly. “David can’t leave, and it’d break his heart if I did.”
Vicki exhaled; I could see the loss of hope in her eyes. Neither her nor Dad knew what to say or what to do. And right on time, as if it were a bell to save me from further explanation, my phone grizzled, making a fuss, the caller ID swallowing Dad and Vicki’s faces.