There Are No Words (The Morelli Sisters #3)

Chapter Sixteen

Allegra

“I still don’t understand why we couldn’t just ask Dad when he got home last night,” I directed to my sisters who were still in shock over finding out Mom had another baby. Not that I wasn’t, too, but it was like I was more curious than anything.

Maria walked over from the rack behind me. “I’m not sure I was ready to hear his answer.” That would explain the dark circles under her eyes today. This had clearly hit her hard.

I shook my head. “We can’t just ignore it.” Not like I had ignored everything Brady said to me before our sleepover, but that wasn’t the point because I still was running away from that one.

“Can’t we?” Bianca asked, joining us and carrying a few dresses over her arm.

I wasn’t sure how they were finding anything good. I couldn’t seem to stay focused long enough to care. What was wrong with my sisters? Didn’t they want answers?

I turned to find Perla pushing her way through a rack of jeans. “Do you agree with them?” I asked Perla.

She shrugged. “Is it wrong if I don’t know if I care?”

This explained why all morning they’d been walking on eggshells, skirting around the topic. They were so indifferent about it. Meanwhile, curiosity was seriously getting the best of me. “It’s Saturday, so Dad won’t be in the office. He’ll be home. I say we go back and talk to him when we’re done here,” I said, making my position clear. “I’d like to know.”

Perla shook her head and countered, “But she obviously didn’t tell us for a reason. Shouldn’t we respect that?”

What? “No! Secrets are no good,” I insisted.

“This one’s been buried for over thirty years,” Bianca pointed out. “I say we let it go.”

I looked to Maria and hoped like hell she’d see reason, but when she didn’t jump to say anything or side with me, I took myself and all the clothes I’d accumulated to a dressing room. “I’ll be back.”

There was no reasonable explanation for why I felt so strongly about learning the truth about Mom and her mystery child. The only thing I could think of was that it was because I was currently pregnant. Then there was the fact that I wasn’t able to talk to Mom, which practically killed me.

Interrupting my thoughts, my phone made a noise indicating a text. It couldn’t have been my sisters since they were all here with me, so I pulled my phone out, wondering who it was.

Brady: How are you?

That was a loaded question that I didn’t feel like answering over text, so I put my phone down. Besides, were we going to pretend that our last conversation had never happened—about us being together? I knew I was. But would he?

The more I thought about it, the more I loved that he’d checked in with me. It was so considerate and so unexpected. But Brady had proven to be unexpected in so many ways.

I stepped into the new maternity jeans Perla picked out for me—elastic waistband and all—and almost laughed.

I lifted my shirt and stretched out the pants to take a selfie and sent it off to Brady.

Allegra: Shopping for maternity clothes.

* * *

Brady

Fuck. What was wrong with me? That was our baby she was carrying and buying new clothes to accommodate, and I couldn’t stop thinking about how hot she was. My pulse spiked at just the image of her, my imagination running wild with the things I’d like to do to her. The way my body and mind reacted to her was borderline ridiculous.

And she didn’t want to be with you, my brain screamed in a mocking tone.

Allegra: Do you hate them?

Shit, I’d been unresponsive for too long.

How could I possibly tell her that I didn’t hate them? That I loved them. That, as I’d said, I loved every damn thing about her body, especially now. I got a semi every time I thought about how full she’d be with our baby.

Brady: They stretch.

I couldn’t believe that was the best I could come up with. What a dope!

Allegra: You hate them. You’re repulsed by them. Just say it.

I couldn’t lie to this woman. Hell, she should’ve already known where I stood.

Brady: Not even a little. In fact, seeing you in them makes me want to sit you on my lap and roll my hips into you so that you can feel my cock press against your slit. Then I want to dip two fingers inside and slowly thrust them in and out, in and out, until you’re writhing in my embrace. If you’re a good girl and you make a lot of noise, I might just let you taste yourself.

Allegra was typing. Deleting. Typing.

She should only know I was far too greedy to let her taste herself and not join in on the fun, so I’d paint her lips with her arousal and then lick them clean.

Allegra: Nice try. But we both know you’re lying, trying to make me feel better.

Goddamn woman. If only she knew how true all of that was. Man, when was she going to get it through her thick skull? I liked her.

Brady: Think what you want. Are you having fun with your sisters?

Have you thought about what I’d said at all? I didn’t dare ask her that, though.

Allegra: Kind of.

* * *

Allegra

What kind of person said that they were kind of having fun with their sisters? Why would I say that? I always had fun with my sisters. I immediately felt horrible. I needed to explain. I didn’t know why. I mean, it wasn’t like Brady cared one way or another, right? But I still had to get it off my chest.

Allegra: It’s just that we’re not on the same page about something right now.

Kind of like you and me.

Brady: Want to talk about it?

Boy, do I ever.

I sank down onto the leather stool in the corner of the dressing room and stared at my phone. Was it smart to unload everything that had happened last night and this morning on Brady when I didn’t even have all the facts myself?

Would he judge me?

To hell with it, I decided, and typed back my reply, bringing him up to speed on Mom’s secret pregnancy and the journal.

Not two seconds later, he responded.

Brady: Wow. That’s some night. How do you feel about it?

Oddly, that was one question no one had asked me. Not any of my sisters. Geez, I hadn’t even asked myself that question.

Allegra: I’m not sure, but I want to know more.

Then it dawned on me. This might’ve been the thing my psychic was talking about when she’d said my maternity journey would give me insight into someone I knew. Maybe it didn’t have anything to do with Brady, but everything to do with my mother.

Allegra: I’m going to ask my dad about it. My sisters don’t want to, but I should if I want to, right?

Brady: You should do what you think is best. I’ll stand by you no matter what. Not that you’d ever ask me to.

Ugh, not this again. I slipped my phone back in my bag. I was hearing Brady loud and clear, all right. I just didn’t like it. It left too much room for getting my heart broken, and I had Baby to think about now, so I couldn’t have that.

Mustering up the courage, I stood up and got dressed in my clothes again. Outside the dressing room, I was met with my sisters waiting for me.

“Well?” Maria asked.

She was likely talking about the clothes, but I answered how I wanted—“I think it’s my destiny to find out about Mom’s secret baby. I think it’s part of my journey, so I’d like to talk to Dad about it and go from there. I know—”

“You should do it. If you think it’s important and that you need to, then you should do it,” Maria surprised me by saying. “I just don’t know how I feel about it and want to go into this at my own pace if that’s okay.”

I nodded and looked to Bianca and Perla. “And do you two agree?”

Studying them closely, I could tell they had mixed feelings. I understood, don’t get me wrong, but I couldn’t pretend I didn’t know. I couldn’t unring the bell, if you knew what I meant.

Slowly, Bianca nodded her agreement. ”Personally, I don’t need another sibling, but I won’t stop you if you think you do.”

I shook my head and ran my hands down her arms. “It’s not that. I love you guys”—I looked at each one of them—“but, come on, this is Mom we’re talking about. Mom. Before she met Dad. Unless we have the story wrong. Doesn’t that make you the least bit curious?”

And we could blame my poor math skills all day long, but I knew what I knew, and it just didn’t add up that Dad had been involved. That was why I wanted to talk to him. He’d know. I was sure of it. Our parents didn’t keep secrets from one another. From their children, apparently, yes, but not each other.

Perla shrugged her shoulders. “I won’t stop you, either, but if it’s another sister, that just means more measuring up, that’s all I’m saying.”

And all our eyes darted to her. I wasn’t sure what that meant. My brows lifted, and I tilted my head. “You’re amazing, so I don’t know what you’re talking about. Besides, this isn’t about us. For me, it’s about Mom and better understanding her and something that she kept hidden from us all our lives.”

“Then let’s get out of here so we can get back to Dad’s,” Maria said, looping her arm through mine. It was a small gesture, but it was a big win, and I couldn’t have been happier.

* * *

“Just call us,” Maria told me, speaking for Perla and Bianca, too.

I looked at them, standing outside Dad’s house and could tell this was what they all wanted—for me to confront Dad by myself. Which was why when they’d told me in the car that they preferred I do it alone, I didn’t fight them on it. Because I was the one who’d wanted to talk about it, to find out the truth.

Reaching over, I hugged them each in turn. “I’ll tell you everything he says,” I promised, but really, I knew they didn’t care to know everything. And I respected that. But if they ever did, I’d be able to tell them. “Drive safe,” I called as they walked to their cars.

This sleepover wasn’t exactly what I’d had in mind. I certainly hadn’t expected to unearth some secret, but I loved my sisters and cherished the time we did spend together regardless. Yes, even if they bugged me or we didn’t see eye-to-eye.

And maybe it wasn’t what I’d had in mind, but perhaps it was what Mom had in mind from the great beyond. I wasn’t sure anymore.

I turned around and walked to the front door, knocking before I used my key. Inside, my footsteps echoed. “Dad,” I called, fully expecting to find him in his home office, even on the weekend.

Lo-and-behold that was exactly where he was. I pushed the heavy wooden door open the rest of the way. “Can I come in?”

He rubbed his eyes and looked up at me from behind his desk. “Allegra. Did you have fun last night?”

I nodded. “Thanks for letting us use the house.”

“Anytime,” he returned and closed his laptop. “Where are your sisters?”

I sighed, not sure how to answer, so I decided to answer vaguely. Truthfully, but vaguely. “They had to run after shopping.”

He smiled. “You pick up any new clothes?”

Shaking my head, I gave him a weak smile. “No,” I responded, which got his attention if I hadn’t already had it. “Hey, Dad, I want to talk to you about something.” I pulled out the chair opposite his desk and sat down.

“Is this about Brady? I promise to give him a chance, but he better not be a deadbeat father, otherwise he’ll have to answer to me,” he said, a fist shaking in the air. As if my father would hurt a fly.

I laughed. “It’s not about Brady.” I just wasn’t sure how to get the words out. My mouth was suddenly dry. Bone dry. Would Dad even know what I was about to ask him? Would I be telling him something he had no clue about? Or would he be able to tell me the whole story? “Actually, last night we went up to the attic,” I started and immediately noticed Dad tensed, his back going rigid.

“The attic?” he asked, his voice coming out hoarse.

Nodding, I looked down at my hands and blurted out, “We found an old trunk. It was Mom’s.”

Inhaling deeply, he wove his fingers together and rested his hands on his chest as he sat back in his chair. “Did you open it?”

I wasn’t sure why, but I had a feeling he was hoping I’d say no. But I couldn’t, as you well knew. “Yes. We found a pregnancy journal. It was Mom’s, but the dates don’t line up with any of us. Do you know anything about it?” I wasn’t sure if I hoped he did or didn’t. I supposed it’d be better if he did because then he’d be able to explain what Mom couldn’t.

Clearing his throat, I could tell my father was fighting hard against going pale. “I do. You clearly opened it, but did your sisters notice what you did about the dates?” he asked, composed as ever, but also obviously distressed.

I nodded.

“Why aren’t they with you?”

“They have mixed feelings on the topic, but I believe I was meant to find it. Especially at this time,” I said, gesturing to my belly and smirking. “Can you explain it?”

The sun was shining in through the office window, but it might as well have been midnight on Halloween for how eerie this whole thing felt.

After a few seconds of silence, Dad closed his eyes and began, “I met your mother in college, and we married right away and had Maria within that first year. But Maria wasn’t her firstborn.”

“She was pregnant by another man?” I asked, needing to make sure I understood.

My father opened his eyes and nodded in confirmation.

I had so many more questions but let him continue. This time, he kept his eyes open, and they looked sad as he spoke, the corners of his mouth turning downward. Even his tone was melancholy. “Your mother and her high school boyfriend—the boy her parents wanted her to be with—had a baby. But your grandmother, may she rest in peace, was insistent that they wed, or Regina give up the baby.” I didn’t dare interrupt him, but this made so much sense. Grams and Mom had never really been close. Not like she’d been with my sisters and me. “You remember these days were not the same as they are now, getting pregnant out of wedlock, especially as a teenager in high school, was unheard of. Especially when you were the daughter of socialites as your mother was.”

This was a lot to swallow, but I was taking it all in. “Okay, so obviously they didn’t get married, right?”

He shook his head. “No, they did not. His parents forbade it, and the two families had a falling out. Your mother gave birth to a baby girl, and her mother arranged an adoption for her.”

“And you knew all these years?” I asked. It felt like a silly question because obviously he knew, but it was a little unbelievable to imagine they’d kept this secret and for as long as they had. “You never said anything. Mom never said anything.” I tried my best to understand where they might have been coming from, but didn’t my sisters and I have a right to know? I raked my bottom lip through my teeth and pushed without being disrespectful, “Why?”

Leaning forward on his desk, Dad looked me straight in the eyes. “She told me right away, not wanting us to keep secrets from each other, but she was very clear that she didn’t want anyone to know. It was too painful for her.”

What I appreciated was that when faced with the reality that we’d found out (apparently much to our parents’ dismay) Dad was honest about it, not holding anything back. It was the Morelli way. We may have swept a lot under the rug, but when confronted with something, we dealt with it head-on. And, if we were so fortunate, we did it as a family. There was strength in numbers. Which was ironic because here I was, party of one.

“Why didn’t Mom look her up when she got older and was away from Grams?” I felt like that was something Mom would’ve done, but then again, I wasn’t entirely sure I knew everything there was to know about Mom. It was a sad, depressing thought, but I kept remembering what my psychic had said. I could only hold on to the hope that learning the truth would bring me closer to Mom.

Dad stood, standing what seemed uncomfortably erect as he swallowed hard. “It’s a bit stuffy in here. Let’s go outside,” he suggested and walked to the door of his office, waiting for me to follow. When I did, he went on, saying, “Your mother was insistent it was for the best. The not knowing, I mean. I offered to help her find the girl many times, but she never accepted my help.”

“Do you know where this girl is now?” Even as I asked, saying this girl didn’t seem right. It seemed wrong, almost heinous, to not acknowledge her for who she was to me. “My sister,” I clarified. Well, technically, that wasn’t right, either. I corrected myself, “Half sister.”

Stepping out into the backyard, Dad shook his head. “No, I don’t know where she is.”

“Was Mom ever going to tell us?” It was hard to imagine he could answer this, but I had to ask.

Again, he shook his head. “I don’t believe so.”

“What should I do?” That felt like the million-dollar question here. I mean, I knew what I wanted to do, but it didn’t seem to jive with what everyone else thought should be done in this situation.

“You can talk about it with your sisters,” Dad offered and sat down in a chair by the pool. “They should know, too.”

I didn’t disagree, but I had a feeling that wouldn’t help me any. Bringing a hand to rest on my lower back, I sat down next to him and rubbed my belly. This was a lot of information to process, and I didn’t know where to begin. Looking up at the warm sun, I closed my eyes.

“How are you doing with the baby?” Dad asked finally. It was the first time he’d really addressed my pregnancy and the baby I had growing inside me. I knew he had a hard time accepting that I was pregnant—I mean, not that hard of a time, but still.

I leaned back in the chair and never took my hand off my belly. “Good. I think Mom’s secret is part of my journey,” I confessed, leaving out the part about my psychic because I knew Dad wasn’t into all that mumbo-jumbo as he put it. And I didn’t feel like getting into it with him about that right now.

“Then you should find her. You should find your half sister.”

That was exactly what I was thinking. Mostly because all I could hear in my head was Mom saying, family is the most important thing . They were words she’d lived by and instilled in us, and this girl—whoever she was, wherever she was—was family.

“Will you help me?” The truth was, I had no idea where to begin when it came to finding someone who wasn’t exactly missing.

“Of course.”