Page 106 of Chemistry: The Chemist

“Your father never remarried?”

“He did, to an amazing woman I love but she’ll never be or never replace the woman that birthed me. That’s a different type of love, Eden. Much different. I can’t explain it, but as much as I love my stepmother, I love my mother a hundred times more.

“The love was engrained in me. It was automatic. I didn’t have to learn to love her. The love was part of me. Part of my identity. It was big and bold and overwhelmingly expansive. No one could ever—” He sucked his teeth, and then continued. “I can’t explain it, but you have a mother so you know exactly what I’m referring to.”

“I do.” Nodding, I confirmed.

“So, call her.”

I unlocked my phone and instead of calling Pamela, the woman who was on standby and had been assigned by the agency as my alias’ mother, I found myself dialing the number I knew so very well. If I didn’t introduce them, I wouldn’t be able to live with myself. If I fed Chem any more bullshit, than I’d been trained to, I wouldn’t forgive myself.

He’d quickly become one of the most important people in my tiny world. She was the other one. It was imperative she had the chance to hear his voice and see his face. Exposing my identity was the least of my concerns. My mother never referred to me by my government name, especially while on assignment.

It didn’t matter whether I was alone or in the company of someone else. That was her way of never slipping. It was also why she bit the bullet and allowed so much time to pass in between points of contact during cases.

After dialing her, I quickly erased the number and opened the FaceTime app where I tapped her name from the short list of calls I’d made, missed, or received. Art was right underneath. I made a mental note to call her before our time in Berkeley ended as well.

My heart galloped in my chest as I waited for her to answer. When the phone stopped ringing and her freckled face appeared behind a new set of glasses, it smiled. I smiled. And at a glance, I caught a glimpse of Chemistry’s smile.

What? I mouthed.

“Nothing,” he said, shaking his head.

“Evening, baby!” Excitedly, my mother greeted me.

Staring at her was like staring in a mirror. She was flawless and I’d inherited her beauty. If she was any indication of how I’d age, I was looking forward to it.

“Hi, Mom. I was calling to say hello.”

“Well, thank you. I’ve been wondering when you’d ring my phone. I’m so happy to hear from you.”

“Me, too. I have someone I’d like you to meet. I know this isn’t ideal, but he’s right here and I figure there’s no point in waiting, right?”

“Right. Who is it, baby?”

“His name is Chemistry and he’s the man responsible for the painful muscles in my face. I haven’t stopped smiling since the day we met.”

I watched as Chemistry folded under the pressure. He wasn’t accustomed to praises. He was a mess hearing anyone gloat about his presence in their world and the massive difference he made. I could see that just by examining his discomfort. Yet and still, there were subtle signs of appreciation hidden in his sly smile.

“Easy, Eden,” he pled, shaking his head.

“It’s the truth, Chemistry. Accept it.”

“You sound like my sister,” he whispered.

“Take it from me, Chemistry. This call itself means it is very much the truth.”

“Here.”

I extended the phone. Hesitantly, he accepted it. I watched his face light up as my mother came into full view. He looked over at me, tilting his head with curious eyes.

“Splitting image.”

“Yes,” I agreed, chuckling.

“Hello,” Chem greeted my mother, filling my heart to capacity.

“Hi.”

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