Page 50 of The First Love Myth

“Why?” Cecilia’s hands are clenched so tightly her knuckles are white. I want to do something to quell her anger, but my head is still reeling from what my mom revealed.

Mom waves her hand noncommittally, as if she hasn’t rocked our understanding of the last decades of our lives. “Anger isn’t good for your health.”

“Mom,” I say before my sister jumps across the table and strangles her.

“For you kids, of course.” Her eyes move past all three of us. Three of us. Not two. “Who do you think your father called about Zoey? Certainly not her mother. No offense, dear.”

Zoey’s laugh is bitter at the mention of her mother, but the look she gives my mom is easy and familiar and holds a history I know nothing about. She glances at me as if in apology before turning back to Mom. “I remember when I wanted a training bra. I thought his eyes were going to fall out of his head.”

“Yes, and when you got your period,” Mom adds. “Your first boy-girl party. When you met Andrew. It takes a village, and I was all your father had.”

None of what’s being said computes. My mom and Zoey shopping for training bras? Where was I? In college and gettingback together with Julian, but still. How bad were things that my dad would ask his ex-wife to help his love child instead of me? And why didn’t they tell us? All these years of tiptoeing around each other, and they were having dinners.

No, I can’t get mad about this now. My dad is literally on his way, which Mom knows. Why she’s doing this now, I don’t know. Cecilia is rage incarnate, and if Patrick Reid walks through the door, she is going to lose it. How do I defuse this situation? I can’t. I can’t even keep my own frustrations down. Because everything about my life could’ve been easier.

“Why didn’t we know this?” I mean to ask my mom, but my gaze slides to my younger sister, who won’t look at me. Because she kept it secret too.

“You never asked,” Mom says at the same time Zoey says, “I asked her not to.”

“Really?” Cecilia pushes back from the table, her fork clattering against her plate. “We never asked?”

Mom fixes Cecilia with a glare only a mother can give. I haven’t seen that face in ages. “What exactly would it have changed? Your anger is your anger. It has nothing to do with me.”

“It has everything to do with you!”

Mom shakes her head. “Maybe it did at first, but no, Cecilia. It hasn’t for a long time. I’m happy. I’ve been happy. You’ve seen me with your father and Zoey at things. Did I ever seem heartbroken?”

“Only all those weekends you spent in my apartment crying so Liz couldn’t see.”

Too much is happening and coming out at once. I don’t know where to look and who to shut up. What weekends are Cecilia talking about? I have no memory of my mother being anything but stoic and stolid after the divorce. Of course I knew she was grieving and heartbroken, but she always put on a brave face.It was like one day all my dad’s stuff moved to Ardena, and my weekends went from trying to escape the house to see my friends to alternating weekends with a toddler I barely knew. But through it all, my mom encouraged me to get to know Zoey, to visit my dad, to carve my own path when Cecilia walked away.

Cecilia and Mom continue to go back and forth until the doorbell rings.Fuck. I meet Zoey’s eyes across the table. She’s pale and worried, but she stands and goes to answer the door.

“Who’s that?” Cecilia asks, her voice still tinged with anger. Her eyes follow Zoey to the door. There’s no stopping this train.

Zoey lets him in, and they stand side by side, Zoey a ball of tension and our dad completely oblivious to what he’s walked into. And it’s now, in this moment, that I realize my mistake. We’ve never all been alone in a room together without other people. Maybe this would’ve worked in a public setting, but even an Evie buffer would not have been enough to wrangle this in. I’ve spent years making accommodations for Cecilia and, I thought, for our mom. But our parents are friends, and Zoey has been using Anna as a temporary mom when needed. It was all for nothing. All that trouble and stress and drama for nothing.

My dad smiles at me before his gaze settles on the daughter he hasn’t seen in five years. “Hello, Cecilia.”

Chapter 40

Zoey

There’s no time to warn Dad about the shit show going on in Liz’s apartment. He literally walks into arguments and then stunned silence, which sucks because I can tell he’s nervous. I slip my hand into his and squeeze twice, our patented silent support communication. Cecilia’s gaze turns toward us, and it’s like spikes digging into me. Liz misjudged tonight’s plan.

“What is he doing here?” Cecilia exclaims, glaring at Liz.

“Cecilia,” Liz chastises. “Hi, Dad.”

“Hi, Lizzie, Anna.”

I hate this so much. How was I foolish enough to believe that this summer changed anything? It doesn’t matter how much progress Liz and I made. This is our reality. It will always be us versus them. And I am the foundingthem. Dad doesn’t deserve this. He destroyed his life to save mine. Why can’t anyone see that? If he hadn’t owned up to me, taken care of me, where would I have gone? My mom wasn’t staying no matter what Dad said. I squeeze his hand again. Whatever happens next, we’re in this together.

Liz walks over to us, her mouth set in a thin line. She takes the bag of pastries out of Dad’s hand and gives him a kiss on the cheek. “Thanks for these, Dad. Go sit.”

No sooner has he taken a seat than Cecilia stands and chases after Liz. My hands twitch in my lap, and my head throbs. What gives Cecilia the right to be such a total bitch all the time?

“Dad,” I say in a sad attempt to break the tension and clue him in to what’s been going down, “I hear you have a new girlfriend. One in a line of many I’ve never met.”

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