Page 79 of Ten Christmases Without You
“Promise that you won’t take this as truth until we explore it together.”
“I promise.”
“In my dream, your mom took me by the hand and said, ‘Emmy needs to know where she really comes from.’ As I said, I always suspected this. I never asked your mother outright because I didn’t want to believe it. I told myself there was no way it could be true, but I did the math, and it could be.”
“What are you saying, Dad?”
He chewed on his lip.
“Tell me what you’re talking about,” she urged.
“I wondered if she meant you aren’t mine.”
Emmy lost her words. Had her entire life not been what she’d thought it was? She scrutinized her father’s features, getting more panicked with every tick of the clock because she didn’t see herself in them. She favored her mom, but she’d always wondered where her green eyes had come from. Her father’s were hazel and her mother’s were blue.
“I did the math. You came early…” He trailed off, tears brimming again.
Mitch has green eyes.
“Could that be why my artistic ability is so strong? Did I just spend the last year with my father?”
The look on her dad’s face told her everything she needed to know.
“I have to admit, when you called me with his name, I almost passed out.”
She mentally pored over everything she’d learned about her mom—all the notes, her drawings, the clutch. Coupled with her dad’s dream, it was as if her mom were trying to send her a message, attempting to tell her who she was—something she hadn’t been able to say in life.
She and her dad stared at each other.
“My dream doesn’t necessarily mean you’re his daughter.”
“Do you think Mitchell would know if I was?” she asked through her dry mouth.
Her dad shrugged, helpless. “I didn’t even want to bring it up. You’remydaughter.”
She leaned in and wrapped her arms around his frail body, tears springing to her eyes. “And you’re my dad—no matter what.”
They sat together, holding onto one another so long that she’d eventually have to let go, but she didn’t want to. She hoped she could hold him long enough to prove her love for him without a single doubt.
He finally leaned back, made eye contact, and wiped a tear from her cheek with his bruised, IV-taped hand. “Over the years, I could see what looked like fear in your mother’s eyes when I noticed your talent. I told myself it was nothing, that I was being paranoid. She didn’t want anything to do with the Augustine family, so if there was any connection, I doubt she ever told Mitch.”
“Should I ask him outright?”
“Why don’t we get a paternity test first, before we drop a bomb on him unnecessarily?” her dad suggested.
“Yes, that’s a good idea.”
Could she really be Mitchell Augustine’s daughter? Her whole life, she felt as if she were in the shadow of her mother, when really, she might be a part of something much bigger: the daughter of two creatives who were tragically torn apart by money and social standing.
Emmy stood up and put her arms around her dad one more time. “No matter what, nothing will change between us. Ever.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
“Where’s Charlie?” Emmy asked when she got back out into the waiting room.
Elsie put down her knitting. “He got an Uber. He said he needed to run out and get a few things and he’d meet you at Madison and Jack’s after.”
“Okay.” She had taken quite a while.
