Page 123 of Lovebug
She doesn’t answer me directly. Instead, she reaches into a nearby backpack propped against the wall, pulls out a stack of photographs and hands them to Tina. “I found these in your sock drawer.”Tina closes her eyes.I walk around to her side and see that the photo on top is one of me. A fairly recent picture of me.
“May I?” I ask, and Tina reluctantly hands me the stack.
I flip through. Me winning the science fair in fifth grade. Me blowing out the candles on a birthday cake. Me opening presents on Christmas. Me roller skating. Me riding my bike. Me baking cookies. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me.
“Did... my mom send you these?” I ask.
“Your mom.” She nods and sort of chokes. “Yes.”
“All these years?” I marvel, continuing to flip through the pictures. “But she never said anything. I thought they’d lost touch with you completely.”
“I can’t know for sure,” Tina says hesitantly, “But I always got the impression Helen sent these on her own. I don’t think Abe knew.”
Alright. That’s it. I’ve had enough.
“What happened between you guys?” I demand more than ask. “I’m tired of being in the dark about this.”
“Sweetheart, I’m sorry,” she says, “But you need to ask them.”
“I have! Repeatedly! For years! They tell me nothing!”
I look back at her and am met with what can only be described as guilty silence.
And it pisses. Me. Off.
“You know what would be nice?” I say with sarcasm for what I think may be the first time ever. “It would be nice if I had people in my life who told me the truth. People who didn’t see me as some naïve little Pollyanna who doesn’t deserve the real deal on things. Just because I’m sweet doesn’t mean I’m stupid. Just because I look on the bright side doesn’t mean I can’t handle the darker things of life!”
“I understand that, sweetheart,” she tries to soothe me. “But I promised your parents that—”
“Fine!” I almost shout at her. “Clearly, you’re not going to fill in any blanks for me. Chloe? How long have you known this?”
“I, um…” The girl who’s always had this maturity about her suddenly looks and sounds very much like the young fifteen-year-old girl she is. “I’ve suspected since we moved here a few months ago and I found the photos. We look alike, don’t you think?” she asks with a hopeful look on her face.
I can’t answer her, even though she’s right. We do look a lot alike, now that I really consider it. The red hair, the freckles, our builds.
“I did a reverse image search online of the most recent one and found the arboretum website. Your picture and bio is there on the staff page,” she admits.
“And then you applied for a job?”
“Yes.”
“Without telling me who you were.”
“Yes.”
“Why not?” I ask. “Why not just tell me about the connection so we could actually do something about it? I would have been so happy, I would have—” I cut myself off when I notice the strange look passing between them. “What am I missing here?” I say as I scan back and forth from Chloe to Tina and back again.
Neither one of them says a thing.
“We’re done here,” I say, surprising even myself with how harshly it comes out. I shove the stack of photos back into Chloe’s hands. “Thanks for lying to me and thanks for wasting my time. I’m glad you’re okay.”
With that, I push out the screen door and let it slam behind me.
I don’t look back.
Chapter Twenty-Five
I call out of work sick the next day.
