Page 49 of The First Love Myth

It’s a simple question, but it turns me to mush. Tears fall, and I pull her into a hug. Zoey’s become my lifeline this summer. How unexpected. How amazing. “I love you.”

An odd expression colors my sister’s face—a bit of happiness, a bit of loneliness. Because we don’t say those words often enough.

“I love you too,” she says, giving me another squeeze.

“Cee!” I squeal as I pull her into a hug. “I can’t believe you’re here. Again!”

She smiles warmly before hanging her purse on the rack. “You know I would fly one thousand miles for you and then fly one thousand more.”

Zoey snorts from the kitchen, where she’s transferring a store-bought vegetable tray onto a platter that matches the plate set I used for the dinner. “Your age is showing.”

Cecilia’s eyes narrow, but her usual irritation is not there. “And yet you got the reference.”

Zoey grins. “Touché.”

My mom arrives next, and we all filter into the dining room. Laughter fills the space. It’s been a common sound with Haley and Zoey in residence the last week, but tonight it’s different. This is my family—my mom and both my sisters—at the same table, breaking bread, and laughing. Never in the last seventeen years has this happened. Not even at my wedding. This summer has changed us. Even my mom is at ease. She’s always been good with Zoey—better than anyone could expect—but tonight the air feels clear and our baggage handled. When I told her I wanted to have a dinner with everyone, she simply asked if Zoey was still allergic to strawberries, a fact I didn’t even know. And probably should have, considering all the times I babysat her.

“Zoey dear, how are you doing? I hear it’s been quite the summer.”

Zoey blushes at Mom’s question but shrugs. “I’m okay. Going back to school will be hard in the same way that coming home was. There are memories everywhere.”

“Yes, there are. But you’ll get through it.” She looks at each of us, stopping for a long moment on me. “We all do.”

“I know,” Zoey says. “And I have a great support system now. It would’ve been a really different summer without Liz.”

“I don’t doubt that.” My mom’s tone is off, but her smile is real. I’ve seen her act for clients for years, and this is no act. She’s interested in what Zoey has to say, cares about her well-being. “And how is your father?”

What a strange question. My mom almost never asks after my dad, except in that perfunctory way when she knows I’ve been with him. I watch the two of them, and it’s like they’re having a silent conversation, but about what?

Zoey’s gaze shifts to me and then to Cecilia before coming back to Mom. “He’s well. Eating on campus a bit too much now that I’m in school most of the year, but sometimes I think he likes it that way. Keeps him from getting lonely.”

“He’s hardly lonely.”

“What?” Zoey and I say at the same time.

“Your father is a highly esteemed law professor at a top-rated university, ladies. He’s quite the catch in certain circles.”

I think about speed dating Guy 3, the professor who reminded me too much of my dad. Now Mom is saying that’s exactly who my dad is for “certain circles.” I can’t picture it. My dad has literally never dated in all these years. Sometimes I’m convinced he’s still in love with my mom even though she’s had several serious boyfriends over the years.

“Are you saying”—Zoey swallows, and her faces distorts in dread—“that someone caught him?”

Mom rolls her eyes. “Many times. Currently, it’s a short brunette from the history department. I believe she teaches American History circa the late eighteenth century.”

There’s no need to clarify that one. Constitutional law is the one thing that gets Patrick Reid excited. And now he’s apparently found a peer who can talk the intricacies. I glance at my sister, who looks like she’s about to puke up dinner. It’s clear she didn’t know, which makes sense. Dating seems like something he would keep close to the vest. He’s all Zoey has, and he knows it. He feels that responsibility and honors it every day.

“How do you know this?” Cecilia asks, her voice brisk. She was so quiet during all this that I almost forgot she was there.

Zoey’s eyes widen and swivel back to my mom, who shrugs. Something passes between them again, and my stomach twists. I’m missing something important here.

“We had dinner recently, as we do from time to time.”

“What?” Cecilia and I exclaim together. While our mother has most certainly moved on, I would never suspect that she still has any communication with our dad other than their public interactions.

Cecilia is a ball of fury across the table. This is not good. She fixes my mom with an incredulous look. “But you hate Dad.”

“I do not hate your father. I never hated him.” Mom takes a sip of wine. “Did I have to divorce him? Yes. Did it break my heart? Absolutely. But seriously, Cecilia, I forgave him years ago.”

In the silence that follows, I can hear the echo of my mother’s unsaid words—as you should have.

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