28. Rachel
28
RACHEL
I t was Thursday, and I was sitting at one of the long workbenches across from Peyton, staring blankly at my computer screen.
Tomorrow was doom's day—the dinner my mom had set up with my biological grandfather—and I had no idea what I was going to do. I didn’t even know the man existed until a few weeks ago.
Yeah, I’d realized that somewhere in the world I had biological grandparents, but it wasn't until Hao Lin stalked me like some weirdo geriatric ninja that the reality crashed into me like nunchucks.
What did he even want with me? I’d been perfectly happy knowing nothing about my biological family who’d left poor little baby me in the NICU. That was over twenty-five years ago. Why change everything now?
I made a rule of not wasting time on people who were too much work. And by God, this was gonna be a lot of work.
"Hey, Rach." Peyton was waving her phone in front of my face. "Did you hear me?"
I blinked at her. "What? No. Sorry."
"Do you want to schedule the behind-the-scenes content for next Tuesday or Thursday?"
I looked around the office as if the answer might be there. Finally, I said, "Whatever you want."
"Thursday, then." She tapped it into her laptop, and it popped up on my work calendar.
"You okay?" Peyton closed her computer and stretched her arms over her head. "Are you thinking about your dinner tomorrow?" I glanced up, surprised. "I overheard you on the phone talking to Eva earlier." She dropped her arms and leaned forward. "Seems like pretty heavy stuff."
I slumped back in my chair. "God, the thought of sitting across from that man and chitchatting like his family didn't abandon me makes me furious." I waved my hand in front of my face, clearing away the emotional mess. “It’s fine. I’ll figure it out."
Peyton looked dubious.
"Rachel?" Derrick's voice jolted me, and my knee slammed into the underside of the table.
"You okay?" he asked behind me.
I rubbed my knee vigorously. "Yeah," I squeaked out, sounding like a helium addict.
He slid into the chair next to me, looking crisp and handsome in a blue polo, the short sleeves straining against his well-formed biceps. I flicked my gaze away, but I flicked it right at Peyton, and she was looking at me like I was a crazy person.
I kinda was. After he had comforted the slobbering blob that was me in his office, something was different. For me, at least. He didn't seem the least bit affected, all businesslike.
"Rach?"
I jumped in my seat again.
"Yep," I chirped. Now I sounded like a bird that had a helium problem.
"There's a podcast recording right now that I'm sitting in on. I think you should come listen."
"Oh," I said, back to my normal voice. "Which one?"
"'Who Are You?'" He turned his head to me at the same time I looked up and my nose slammed into his chin.
"Ow!" I dropped my face into my hand. My nose was throbbing and felt five times its size.
"Are you okay?" I heard Peyton circling the table, and Derrick was already reaching for my face to inspect the damage. I put my left hand up to tell them both to stop.
"I'm fine." I released my nose and thanked God buckets of blood weren't pouring out. "Continue."
Derrick cocked his head, studying me like I was some strange science experiment. I stared at him and waited for him to go on.
"You sure you don't need ice for?—"
"I'm fine!" I snapped.
"Okaaaay." Derrick put his hands up.
"Tell me about the podcast," I said hastily, wanting to move on.
"It's like that TV show Finding Your Roots that dives into a celebrity’s ancestry, but this podcast does it with everyday people."
“Okay,” I said, still not sure where he was going with this.
"Well, right now they're interviewing an author who was adopted. She wrote a book about finding her birth parents. I thought you'd want to listen. We can sit in the producer's booth."
My heart fluttered, anxiety circling my belly. Derrick must have sensed my apprehension because he put a hand on my forearm and said, "All you have to do is listen. It doesn't mean you ever have to look into your own past or change anything."
"Go." Peyton shooed me off. "I'm good here."
I followed Derrick into the small producer's booth, where the A/V tech and producer sat with headphones and mics, in case they needed to chime in during the recording.
On the other side of the glass was the host, Keisha Jones, and the person she was interviewing, a black-haired woman that looked to be in her midthirties.
"It was hard," the author was saying into the mic. "I had to fly to the other side of the world to find my birth mom. There was so much shame in her. She never wanted to give me up, but she had no choice. At first, she didn't want to meet me. She comes from a different culture, one where family honor is valued above all else and it's nearly impossible to admit when you're wrong. Not that I ever thought what she did was wrong. I had so much compassion for her."
"You changed her name in your book," Keisha said.
"Yes. I promised her I would. Deciding to finally meet me was extremely hard for her. She could never handle a public outing like that."
Derrick slid his hand on my knee, and I flinched, flushing hot. Was he?—
"You're bouncing it," Derrick explained. "It's disruptive to the sound equipment."
Oh. Of course he wasn't copping a feel. Chillax, girl.
I mouthed an apology and chewed my lip instead, leaning forward toward the glass that separated us from the studio.
"Family is about more than blood," the author was saying. "My adoptive family is amazing, and they were super supportive during this long journey. And to answer your question, both families are my real family. There doesn't have to be just one. There are so many versions of blended families, and mine has expanded in this beautiful, unexpected way. It was heartbreaking sometimes. But it made me the woman I am today. I wouldn't have chosen it any other way."
The knot of anxiety I'd been carrying around for almost two weeks ratcheted up a few notches, and when the interview ended, I rushed out of the booth, needing out of the confined space. In all these weeks, I hadn't let myself think about my bio mom. Not in any tangible way.
The thing was, I could never have what the author talked about because my biological mom was dead.
Derrick ducked into the hallway. "Are you okay?" he asked, concern on his face. "Was it too much?"
"Yes. No. I don't know," I said and wrapped my arms around my midsection, shaking.
"Come here." I followed him into the empty podcast studio across the hall. I was shivering even though it was warm in the studio.
I paced, wrapping my arms tighter, but I couldn't stop shivering.
"I'll never know her, Derrick. I'll never get to ask her why or if she loved me or if she regretted giving me away. I'll never have what that woman does." I ground my jaw, holding back a scream. "I'm mad. I'm so mad at Hao Lin for coming into my life and stirring all this up. I was fine. Fine!" I screeched. "Until he came into my life."
"I shouldn't have asked you to listen to that.” Derrick’s face looked pained. “I’m sorry. I thought it would help.”
I whipped my head around and faced him. "It's not your fault. I needed to hear that. I've been ignoring the big mother-shaped elephant in the room. I've been out of sorts for weeks, and this is why. But I don't want it. I don't want any of it!"
I fell against his chest, eager for the comfort he’d given me last week. I wrapped my arms around his thick shoulders, overcome with a wave of gratitude and grief, a weird mix. Under my hands, his muscles tensed and his arms stayed firmly at his side. Confused, I released him and stepped back.
"Thanks," I said. "I'm glad you made me listen. There are obviously things I need to resolve."
He shrugged. "It was nothing. I saw it on the schedule and thought it might resonate with you."
"It did."
We stood there for a moment, and there was something in Derrick's eyes, something warm and intense that made my heart race.
He clapped his hands once and I flinched. "So, are you going to that dinner with your mom?"
"Yes."
"Are you sure? I didn't do this to force you into anything."
"Do I ever do anything I don't want to?" I smirked.
"No." He laughed lightly, and the tense vibes from before dissipated.
I chewed my lip, my nerves hopping up and down now that I'd decided to go. "I wanted Eva to come with me but she's out of town. Would you come?" I playfully punched him in the arm. "I need a getaway driver if things go south."
Derrick looked stunned.
"You don't have to," I hurried to say. "It's no biggie. I mean it's a lot, but you really don't need?—"
"Of course I'll go."
"Great. And I can pay you back with a little handy," I joked.
Derrick's face immediately shadowed. "Don’t.”
"I was totally kidding. I didn't mean to?—“
“Yes, you did.” He leaned forward and my skin prickled. “I asked you to stop making those types of comments, Rachel. It's not appropriate, and it's disrespectful to me. Okay?”
I raised my pinky. "Pinky promise."
He stared at my hand between us.
"You're meant to wrap your pinky with mine," I explained.
He rolled his eyes, but I saw a tiny smirk at the corner of his lips, and he quickly hooked his pinky with mine.
"Come on, crazy." He tugged my pinky, and I hopped in line as we walked to his office.
“Let’s meet at the subway stop near the restaurant before so we can walk in together. I don't want to spend one minute alone with that guy. I'm excited and terrified and have no idea what he really wants," I rambled nervously. "I can't believe I'm doing this. I can’t believe I’m about to sit down with someone who's related to me by blood. I can’t believe?—"
"Rach." Derrick held my shoulders, his large hands eclipsing my small frame. "Breathe." I stared up at his chestnut eyes and let out a long breath. "It's gonna be fine," he assured me.
I blinked rapidly, my eyes dropping to his lips. I never realized how plump and edible they were. Derrick shifted forward, his mouth so close I felt the warmth of his breath.
Oh my freaking God, was he going to?—
"Go home, Rachel." His hands let me go so fast I stumbled sideways.
Okay. Totally misread that.
"It's late." He began to walk away. "You'll need rest for tomorrow."
"Thanks," I said too loudly. "I mean, what could possibly go wrong, right?"