Page 41 of The Sweetest Chirp

“Malyshonuk, my love. Oh, sweet God, it’s you,” Mom cries, cupping my face before pressing her head to mine. “I thought you left me for good.”

“Never,” I whisper as I cling to her. “I’m sorry. Please don’t hate me.”

She lets out a broken scoff. “Ohmalyshonuk, I could never. I don’t understand why you left me. How could you? We love you so much. Did you not feel loved?”

“Of course I did, Mom. I just needed a change.”

“Then you change and call me while you do it. You don’t leave me for over three years, no words, no letters, no goddamn pigeon! I have missed you so very much.”

“I know. I’m sorry.”

She leans in, her face splotchy as she sniffs through her tears. “You left because of him?”

“Mom,” I try, but she isn’t having it.

“I know it was because of him,” she says, and then she narrows her eyes before directing her glare at Thatcher. He stands tall, his hands tucked into the pockets of his slacks, the picture of calm. “You may have brought her back, but I know you’re the reason she left.”

“The reason doesn’t matter. It’s between us?—”

“But we suffered!” my mom bellows, and Maeve rubs her back.

“We all have, Thatcher included, Anya,” Maeve tries, but Mom is almost in hysterics.

Her brown eyes lock with mine as she continues, “If only you’d talked to us,malyshonuk. We could have helped.”

“It wasn’t something that could be spoken about,” I explain as I squeeze Mom’s hand. “Please accept my apology, Mom.”

She clings to my arm, bringing me in close. “I do,malyshonuk, but I will always blame him.”

Against her cheek, I beg, “Don’t. We’re both at fault here.”

“It was my fault,” Thatcher speaks up, and my shoulders fall. I don’t want there to be animosity between our families. My mom tears away from me, her eyes narrowed to slits, but he isn’t the least bit scared.

“Guys, please,” I plead. “We are both at fault, but it’s between him and me.”

“We will deal with our issues—without anyone’s help,” Thatcher adds, and I swallow hard.

My mom is ready to spit fire, and Maeve tries to soothe her. But I can tell she’s pissed at her son too. Guilt floods me as I try to think of how to protect him, which is insane. Let them tear him apart; he is the reason I left. But I don’t want that. I don’t want anyone to blame anyone. I just want to move forward.

But how?

I look away from them, and Don steals my gaze. His eyes are full of apprehension and fear. Thatcher favors him in the height and weight department, and he also has his dad’s olive skin. Thatcher’s hair is a mix of his mom’s dark and his dad’s light brown, but his eyes are all his mom’s. Don Orlov played in the NHL for ten years and wore his ear gear the whole time. It was the only way anyone knew he was hard of hearing, because his speech has always been clear. He takes a deep breath and says to me, “I am so glad you’re home, Audrina. It’s very good to see you.”

I smile at him. “You too, Don.”

“I have missed you greatly.”

My lips wobble. “I have missed you.”

He looks around the room at everyone. “At the end of the day, even though they are our babies, they are adults. They’re right—what happened is between them, and all we can do is be here for them if they want our advice. Instead of fighting or placing blame, I want to welcome our girl Audrina home and give her a safe space. We are her home, not her judge and jury.”

My breath gets caught in my chest as I look up at Thatcher. Will Don still say that when we introduce Arwen to them?

Thatcher gives me a supportive smile, and his eyes tell me everything will be fine. It’s mind-blowing that after all that has happened, I can still read him so clearly.

After I tear my gaze from his, Dad nods in agreement. “Don is right. She’s home. That’s all that matters.”

“Yes, and we are so thankful you are,” Maeve says, cupping my jaw. “So very beautiful. I have missed you so much.”

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