I looked up, tears streaming down my face, and the three of them looked down at me. My mother looked scared. Noelle looked hopeful. Mrs. Lange, sympathetic.
“We know it’s overwhelming,” she said.
“No,” I replied. “You have no idea.”
I looked at my mom. “Does Dad know?”
“He does,” she replied.
“Does Scott?” I asked.
“No.”
My parents had been lying to me my entire life. Lying to both of us.
“So when I went away to Easton last year … did you know that Noelle was there? Did you know we were going to meet?” I demanded.
My mother’s face rushed with color. “I wasn’t aware of much at that time, sweetie,” she said. “But later … yes. I did, I did realize that the girl you were always talking about … that Noelle … was Wallace’s other daughter.”
“How could you never have said anything? How could you not tell me?!” I blurted.
“Reed, you don’t understand. I—”
But I didn’t want to hear it. I pushed myself off the couch. “I have to go.”
“Reed, come on,” Noelle said, grabbing my arm as I tried to get past her. “You can’t just keep running away.” I looked her in the eye and she tilted her head. “I know this sucks on some level, but think about it for a second. We’re sisters.”
I felt a pang in my heart, but it was quickly extinguished by the deluge of horrifying emotions.
“I don’t care,” I told her.
Then I turned and ran out into the cold.
I didn’t come back for a long time. I rode my bike to McDonald’s, scored a free coffee from Big Ted behind the counter, and then just sat there, not even drinking it, waiting for Target to open. When it finally did, I crossed the street and went inside and spent at least an hour walking up and down the brightly lit aisles over and over, seeing nothing. Considering I was in mismatched sweats and slippers, I caught surprisingly few disturbed looks.
Finally I realized it was well past time to go home. I didn’t want to see my mother or Mrs. Lange or Noelle, but I really wanted to see my dad. I needed to see him. I needed to talk to him and find out what he thought of all this. Why he’d stayed with my mom after she’d cheated on him and produced a baby with another man. Why he’d raised me like I was his own. Why he loved me so much. Mostly I just wanted him to hug me and tell me it was all a big joke.
So when I came around the bend onto my street and the limo was gone and my dad was sitting on the front step, I pedaled all the harder. He stood up when I got to the end of the walk. I dropped my bike on the asphalt and ran into his arms. It was the first time I let myself cry. I just pressed my face into his sweatshirt and cried and cried and cried.
“It’s okay, Reed. It’s all gonna be okay,” he said, kissing the top of my head.
I really, really wanted to believe him. Finally, we both sat down on the step and stared across the street at the Romolos’ house.
“What happened, Dad?” I said. “I don’t understand how this could’ve happened.”
He took a deep breath and blew it out, making a huge steam cloud in the air. Then he looped his arm around me, warming me from head to toe, and I cuddled into his side.
“You know your mom and I were high school sweethearts,” he said. “And you know we moved to New York after I graduated college.”
“Yeah,” I said.
“Well, after about a year of trying to pretend I was made to be a stockbroker, I wanted to move back here,” he said. “As it turned out, I didn’t want that life. But your mom, she still did. She was working as an assistant at this big financial firm and she liked going to work every day and getting dressed up and all that stuff. After she had Scott, it was three months at home and then right back to work. For two years we argued about where to live and what to do and then one day we just couldn’t argue anymore. We separated.”
“You guys got separated?” I asked. “I never knew that.”
My father lifted his shoulders. “We never really had a reason to tell you guys. Till now.”
I swallowed hard and looked down at my slippers. “So then she—”