42. Rachel
42
RACHEL
T he late afternoon sun dappled through the trees in Central Park, casting a golden glow over our motley crew sprawled on the bedsheet we were using as a picnic blanket.
I was sandwiched between my mom and Lulu, with Brad sitting across from us. I couldn't stop looking at him, studying his face, and he was doing the same with me.
The whole scene was bizarre, like I had stumbled into some alternate reality where family reunions came with a side of existential crisis.
"So," Brad said, breaking the awkward silence that had settled over us. "Do you want to share the last deviled egg?"
I snorted, unable to help myself. "Sure."
He grinned, a lopsided smile that I was starting to recognize as my own. "Sorry. This is all so..."
"Weird. Crazy. Strange."
"Wonderful," he said, and I bit my lip.
"Jessica used to do that," Brad said pushing back his chestnut-brown hair. "When she was anxious. During every test. Every choir concert."
"She did!" Lulu agreed, sitting up on her knees. "I remember that."
I bit into the deviled egg, but a piece of parsley got caught in my throat and I started coughing. Brad dropped his paper plate and was at my side, whacking my back. I drank some water to dislodge the tiny piece of food and swallowed. When I stopped coughing, Brad sat back, worry all over his face.
"I'm fine. No need to save my life. Just a rogue herb," I joked.
"Hey, I'm new to this whole dad thing." He smiled sheepishly. "I just met you and yet...."
"You'd do anything for her," Mom finished and placed her hand on top of his, squeezing it reassuringly. "Welcome to being a parent."
The gesture was so casual, so normal, that it made my chest ache with a weird mix of emotions I couldn't quite name. I was still amazed how easily my mother had accepted him as part of our lives.
Lulu cleared her throat. "So, Brad, what was Aunt Jessica like back then? In high school?"
Brad's eyes went soft. "She was radiant. Brilliant. Had this giddy laugh that made everyone smile." He chuckled. "And she was always humming showtunes under her breath. Drove me crazy sometimes, but in the best way."
"That was so Aunt Jessica," Lulu said, smiling. "She never could resist a good musical. Every year we'd take her to a Broadway show for her birthday."
"I think I listened to Wicked a hundred times," Brad continued. "She'd skip French club to hang out at my place sometimes. That's, uh..." He glanced at me. "Well, that's how you came to be, Rachel."
"Wow," I deadpanned. "TMI, Dad."
The word “dad” slipped out, and we both froze for a second. Then Brad's face split into a grin so wide it looked like it might hurt.
"Sorry," he said, the emotion thick in his voice. "I'll try to keep the conception stories to a minimum."
"Much appreciated," I said, but I was smiling too.
Brad's expression dropped into a frown. "I didn't know, though. About you. One day we were together, and the next she was just gone. Transferred schools. I went to her house. Her father slammed the door in my face."
Lulu sniffled, and I realized she was crying. "Aunt Jessica never talked about you or Rachel. But there was always this sadness about her. Like a piece of her was missing."
Mom wrapped an arm around Lulu's shoulders. "She had a good life, though," Lulu continued. "She married a good guy, my Uncle Chen. He moved back to China after she died, but my dad keeps in touch. What shocked all of us is that he knew about you, Rachel. Aunt Jessica told him after they got married, but she was too ashamed to ever look for you."
A lump formed in my throat. "She was just a kid," I said softly. "I don't blame her."
Suddenly, a familiar figure appeared at the edge of the field and walked toward us. Hao Lin.
"Rachel," he said, smiling hesitantly. "Can I speak with you?"
"What are you doing here?" I asked, more surprised than annoyed, glancing at Lulu, who shrugged, as in the dark as I was.
He shifted uncomfortably. "Lulu says you're here today. I come to apologize. For following you. It was...not right."
"Ya think?" I muttered, but there was no real heat behind it.
Hao's gaze landed on Brad, and his brow furrowed.
Brad stood, extending his hand. "Brad DeLacey. I knew your daughter. A long time ago. I'm, uh, Rachel's father."
Brad's words hung in the air like a bomb. The color drained from Hao's face, and an awkward silence descended, broken only by the distant laughter of children playing nearby. Hao took a stumbling step backward, then another, before turning and hurrying away across the park.
Lulu started to get up. "I'll go after him."
"No," Brad said, his voice gentle but firm. "Let me."
I watched in stunned silence as Brad jogged after Hao, catching up to him at the edge of the field. They talked for several minutes, their body language tense at first but gradually relaxing. And then, to my utter astonishment, Brad pulled Hao into a hug. Hao looked like he'd rather be anywhere else, but he didn't pull away.
"Well," Mom said, her voice slightly strangled. "This is unexpected."
"Welcome to my life," I muttered. "Where the plot twists never end."
Hao left, and Brad made his way back to them. His expression was unreadable as he sat back down on the blanket.
"What did you say to him?" Lulu asked, voicing the question we were all thinking.
Brad sat on his shins and ran a hand over his thighs. "I told him that I loved his daughter. She was special. And that I'm gonna be a permanent fixture in your life, Rachel. And I made sure he knew I wasn't angry. I understand he was just trying to protect his daughter, to do what he thought was best."
I leaned forward and wrapped my arms around him in a spontaneous hug.
"You're pretty dope, you know that," I said, my voice muffled against his shoulder.
Brad's arms came around me, holding me tight. "You too."
I looked around our group, happier than I’d been in a long time. Yeah, I still had a beat-up heart that made me cry every night into my poor, abused pillow, but having all these other people who loved me around made me realize one day I'd be over it, and I had a pretty kick-ass life.
With or without Derrick Jacques.
* * *
The sun dipped low behind the trees as Mom and I strolled through Central Park after everyone had gone. The day's events swirled in my mind like leaves caught in an autumn breeze.
"So," Mom said, giving my shoulder a little nudge. She was quiet for a moment, considering. "I like Brad. But Rachel, honey, you don't have to have a relationship with him if you don't want to. It's your choice."
"I know. But I want to. I'm happy, Amma ."
Mom stopped, turning to face me with a soft smile. "Good. You've always done what you wanted in the end. It's one of the things I love most about you—your fearlessness."
"Even when it drives you crazy?" I teased.
"Especially then." She laughed, then added slyly, "And how about a certain tall, dark, and broody detective?"
I took a deep breath. "Actually, we're over. And I’m not working for Dreamary."
"What happened?" Mom's eyes widened in surprise.
"I quit," I said. "But I have another job lined up. Anyway, the main reason I was working there to begin with was, well, I wanted to surprise you."
She frowned, confused. "Surprise me?"
"I wanted to save up enough money to send us on an Alaskan cruise next summer," I blurted out. "The one on your bucket list."
Mom's jaw dropped. "Rachel, honey, that's too much. I can afford to take us. You didn't need to?—"
"I wanted to," I interrupted, stepping into the shade of an oak tree. "You've taken care of me all my life. It's time I did something for you."
She pulled me into a tight hug. "Oh, sweetheart. I love that you worked so hard to do this for me. But save your money for something else. I'll be much happier if you use it for a downpayment on an apartment. I mean it. I won't accept it. But let's do the cruise. On me. But not just us. Anyone from our new mixed-up family that wants to go."
"I'd like that," I said, excitement fluttering across my belly. "If that's what you really want."
But a hint of sadness seeped in because the one person I really wanted to invite would never come.
Mom pulled back, studying my face. "Rachel what's wrong?"
My bottom lip trembled. My life was awesome. Why did this one misery mute all the other goodness? I thought I could ignore this raging, unrequited love but it seeped into every aspect of my life. I wanted to wrestle it into submission, but every time I tried, it pinned me down until I couldn't breathe.
"It's Derrick." I looked up at my mom, tears blurring my vision. The whole story came tumbling out—how he fell first, then I fell harder, how he pushed me away, how he didn't want me anymore, how I ruined everything.
Mom cupped my face in her hands, forcing me to meet her gaze. "Rachel, listen to me. What did I just say I love most about you?"
"My sparkling wit and unrivaled beauty?" I quipped weakly.
She rolled her eyes, but there was a smile tugging at her lips. "Your fearlessness, you goofball."
I blinked, not understanding. Or afraid that she was telling the truth, and I was too much of a coward to be my authentic self and go after what I wanted.
"If you love him, fight for him. Be the brave, confident woman I raised you to be."
I shook my head. "It's different. I've tried but he won't listen."
"Then make him listen. Fight for him." She narrowed her gaze. "Fight for yourself. Promise."
"Promise." I threw my arms around her, hugging her fiercely. "Thanks, Amma ."
She kissed the top of my head. "You've always been a fighter. Don't stop now."