Page 134 of Ask Me Something

“I’d argue the toughest people got there the hard way. You, baby girl, have always pushed yourself. You could’ve chosen a lot easier path, but you didn’t. And no matter what happened today with Brian, I could tell when that boy came here for our party that he loves you. It was written all of his face when he looked at you.”

I smiled at the fact that he called Brian a boy. In my Daddy’s eyes, we were both still kids. I took a deep breath. “He thinks he does.”

“And why do you say it like he couldn’t possibly?”

“Because he didn’t know about any of this.” I motioned to myself. Here I was, a thirty-two-year-old woman, sitting on the couch and crying my eyes out in front of my parents.

“Seems like he does now,” my mother whispered.

“I fire hosed him with it all, and I know he feels bad—” My sentence was interrupted.

“Do you think he loves you because he feels sorry for you?” my dad asked, indignant at the very thought.

I cracked a smile at his disapproving tone. “No, but he saw only what I wanted him to over the last eight years. Now he sees all of it. I can’t stand to have him look at me like I’m broken. He deserves better than a crack-addict’s daughter who has an anxiety disorder and the inability to handle stress.”

I was unprepared for my mother’s anger when she shot up from her seat.

“You listen here, Sasha Jayne Brooks. You’re not some crack-addict’s daughter, you hear me? You’re my daughter and that of your father. We raised you, and you’re as much a part of us as if I’d given birth to you. I don’t ever want to hear you demean yourself like that again. You should be damn proud of yourself, because I know we sure are.”

My brows shot up in shock. In thirty-two years, I’d never heard my mother swear. A giggle escaped my lips. “Did you just curse, momma?”

My dad laughed, and then my mom cracked a smile. “Damn straight I did. Should tell you how passionate I feel about the subject.”

For once, coming home had been the best decision.

* * *

While the moonlightstill shone in the windows of my childhood bedroom early Sunday morning, I got up and took a walk on the beach. It was deserted at this early hour and it gave me peace. Sitting down in my favorite spot, I waited until dawn started to color the sky before I took the folded envelope out of my pocket.

There was no letter like I’d expected, but instead was a photograph that had seen better days. It showed a beautiful teenage girl with a baby tucked into her arms, smiling tiredly into the camera. On the back it simply said.

“I always loved you, Sasha.”

The tears flowed freely and I wiped my nose on my sleeve. I’d always assumed I’d been given up because my birth mother hadn’t loved me. But I’d never considered the kind of unselfish love it took to give your child up in order to give them a better life. My parents as I’d always known them provided me the life my birth mother never could have.

Looking up, I saw my sister approaching. She was the last person I’d have expected. She settled beside me, putting her arm around me.

I broke the silence after a couple of minutes. “How did you know I’d be here?”

“We came over to the house to meet for church, and Dad told me about your birth mom passing. I figured you’d be here. I’m really sorry by the way.”

“Thanks, but how did you know it was here in this spot?” I was hidden away from anyone driving by and I hadn’t parked a car.

She sighed. “After you’d found out about being adopted, I used to follow you, back in the day, when you’d come here. You would sit for hours, sometimes staring, sometimes crying. I’ve always regretted that I didn’t try to comfort you.”

I swallowed hard at that image. “You were only twelve, Addison, hardly able to know what to do. And I didn’t know how to let anyone in at the time. Hell, I’m still working on it.” But it seemed I was getting better by the minute.

“I was always so in awe of you,” she whispered.

“You mean until that day.”

She shook her head. “No, even more so after, actually. You were so strong and so independent. I was always intimidated by it.”

I raised an incredulous brow. “I was barely holding it together.”

She sighed. “I wish I would’ve known.”

We sat there in silence as the sun came up.

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