Page 86 of Songbird: Black Kite
“Well, this is a nice surprise,” she said, once I’d slid through the small opening she’d made for me to enter. “You just missed Charlie.”
“He still comes by here?” I asked, surprised. Charlie hadn’t told me he was visiting my mom, but I supposed I should have suspected it.
“He comes every other week or so,” Mom answered, heading for the kitchen to put on the kettle. “What brings you by? Not that I’m not happy to see you. I just wasn’t expecting you, is all.”
Following her into the cozy kitchen, I clutched the envelope against me, knowing that this was about to be a difficult conversation.
“I had some things I needed to talk to you about,” I said simply, feeling about two feet tall. “Some important things.”
She looked at me, concern on her face.
“Is everything alright?”
“Yes.” No.I don’t know.
“Well, you look like you’ve seen a ghost, so excuse me if I don’t believe you.”
She turned back to the kettle as I considered her words. Maybe I had seen a ghost. Because after all these years, that’s what Wren had been to me. A ghost that had haunted my dreams, teasing me with memories that drifted around like aether.
Now that I knew who she was—had seen her face—more and more memories of that night were returning to me, knocked loose by the photographs of a woman with golden hair and a tired smile.
Images flashed through my mind of a young woman on her knees, hand hovering over a guitar, staring at it with reverence.
My arms wrapped around her while she played for me, her fingers hesitant as she strummed.
They were little things, mere moments, really, but they were new, and somehow, I could feel that they were of Wren.
I just didn’t know what they all meant.
Mom finished assembling the tea—lemon for me, of course—and brought the mugs to the table along with a plate of peanut butter cookies.
“Now, tell me what this big business is. You look like you’ve got the weight of the world on your shoulders. Let me carry some of it for you, my boy.”
I sighed, the shaky breath leaving me feeling empty and unsure. I didn’t know how my mom would feel, finding out that I more than likely had a child out in the world that I’d never known about, but I knew I felt like shit.
The more I stared at the photos Charlie had given me, the more I thought about their life and what they’d potentially been through, alone, the more gutted I felt.
Maybe I wouldn’t have been a good dad, but I would have given it my best fucking shot.
And Wren? Could there have been something there? Would we have made more than just a baby together?
I’d never know.
Because Tori had fucking stolen that from us.
The rage I felt almost constantly these days started to bubble up again, no longer just content to simmer in the back of my mind while I decided how to best handle all of this. Tori still didn’t know that I knew what she had done, and I was working hard to keep it that way.
For now.
Because when the time came for me to confront Tori, there’d be hell to pay. And this time, I had the upper hand.
But my mother was staring at me, worry in her eyes, so I put my anger and resentment aside and got right to it.
“It has recently come to my attention that, several years ago, I spent the night with a girl on tour.” I licked my lips, dropping my eyes to the envelope on the table, my hand splayed over it as though I could protect its contents by sheer will alone. “And that girl may have gotten pregnant that night.”
To her credit, my mom didn’t immediately start yelling, which was what I’d expected. I watched her, the way her hands clutched at her mug just that much tighter. Her eyes widened a little, but she composed herself quickly, and nodded, but said nothing.
“Mom?” I asked, confused. “Are you going to say something?”
