Scene 5 #4
When we finally break apart, I tentatively wrap my arms around his waist and rest my head against his strong chest. He’s not my brother. Still my Sully, but not my brother. “What about Momma and Papa? What would we tell them?”
Sully plays with the ends of my hair. “I’ll think of something. And I’ll always take care of you no matter what.”
When I close my eyes, Momma and Papa’s disappointed faces appear.
I don’t want to break their hearts, but am I not owed my own happiness?
If I even choose to go, that is. There’s so much to think about, and it’s too much to do right now.
I tilt my head back until I can see Sully’s beautiful brown and blue eyes.
“Please don’t ask me to make a decision yet. ”
“I’ll wait.” He presses a lingering kiss to the corner of my mouth. “I’ll wait a little longer.”
Scene 4
Emmaline, Age 18
When Sully and I finally come back inside, Momma and Papa tell us we need to talk.
I never would have guessed it would be about me being adopted, too.
Not completely like Sully, but Papa wasn’t always my papa.
Surprisingly, I take the news better than I thought I would considering how I reacted with Sully’s announcement.
Lots of tears, of course, from me, Momma, and Papa as they hug me.
I don’t know that I’ve ever seen Sully cry, but he sits beside me in silent support.
There’s a sheen to Papa’s brown eyes as he pulls back to cup my face.
“Look at me, Little Bit. I was with your momma when you were born. And the minute you got here and I saw you, this wrinkly, crying baby, I knew you and your momma were meant to be with me. You’ve always been my little girl.
Always. And nothing’s ever gonna change that, you hear me? ”
“Why didn’t you tell me?” I gratefully accept the handkerchief Sully sneaks into my hand and dab at my swollen eyes. God, so much crying today. At some point, I’m either going to run out of tears or rub my skin raw from all the wiping.
“Because I’d hoped to put everything in my past behind me.
The man who…who…” Momma’s pain is heavy in her voice before she swallows it down.
“He was a bad, bad man who would never be able to love anyone. Not even an innocent baby. And I only ever wanted you to grow up knowing you were loved.” She looks so sad and miserable that I have to pull her into another hug.
“I did know that,” I whisper into her ear, squeezing her tightly.
“I do.” When I pull away, I look between my worried parents.
Momma was the same age as me when she met Papa.
The man who fathered me must have truly been an evil person for her to clearly still be so affected by it eighteen years later.
“Part of me hurts knowing I didn’t have all the truth, but the other part of me understands.
You’ve always done what’s best for me. I know the way you love each other and all of us is real. ”
“Damn right, it’s for real. You see this finger?
” Papa holds up his pointer finger. “You grabbed on to it with your tiny little hand when you were barely a few hours old, but it damn well might have been my heart. And I’ll always remember that moment because I carry it around in my head all the time. ”
My bottom lip wobbles as I picture him holding me and singing to me, then I throw my arms around my parents again. “I love you so much. Both of you.” My papa has loved me from the very beginning.
“You were born and raised a Shay, and you always will be.” Papa opens an arm for Sully. “C’mere, son. You need in this hug, too.”
I wince as Sully crowds in, but not because of being squished. He’s a Shay, and I’m a Shay. What would that mean for our future? If there even is one.
As much as I may have wished otherwise, the next few months aren’t at all the same as before. Not so much with learning the truth about my parents, but more so things with Sully.
He was right when he said we couldn’t go back to how it was.
Every time we had breakfast or supper, he’d make sure his feet nudged mine under the table.
Then he’d give me a crooked little smile that took my breath away.
I see him so differently now. Sometimes I find myself watching him do the chores he and I have both done probably a million times, but now I notice the way his shirt strains across his back when he lifts something heavy.
Then I get to see every single one of those strong muscles for myself when he takes his shirt off to wipe his sweat away.
Talking with him isn’t the same, either, because his eyes will catch on my mouth and darken as if reliving our kisses, and then I get all flustered because it makes me think of it, too. But that was nothing compared to last week when he came up behind me in the kitchen.
One moment I was all by myself, stretched out on tiptoe trying to reach a glass in the cupboard.
Then, from seemingly nowhere, Sully’s arms were bracketing me and his lower half was pressed to my backside.
“Let me get that for you, darlin’,” he’d said in a low, husky murmur against my ear that had me shivering and doing all within my power not to press back against him.
I think I might have even felt his lips pass over my hair before he stepped back and placed the glass on the countertop.
Other than that small possibility, there hasn’t been any more kissing since our time in the tree, and I’m both torn and relieved.
A job took him away a few days ago, and as much as I miss him, I’m glad for the space to clear my mind. But there’s no clearing it of certain things, because no matter how much I busy myself with chores, my thoughts always circle back to him.
Hoping some fresh air will do me good, I trudge back to the oak tree where he kissed me three months ago.
It had always been my favorite tree because of all the enormous branches that were easy to climb, but now it’s my favorite for a different reason.
Remembering that moment now with the knowledge that he’s not my brother, I can replay every second and experience it without guilt.
Although the memory has me still blushing just as fiercely.
“There you are. I’ve been looking for you.”
At first, I think I must have conjured Sullivan, but when I register the softer tone and glance down, I realize it’s Momma.
“Is there room for me up there?” There’s such tentative hopefulness to her tone that I can’t say no.
“Of course.” Fanning my heated face, I scoot over.
She climbs with ease, and once she’s settled beside me, she leans back and closes her eyes. “I can see why you like it up here. It’s very peaceful.”
“It is,” I reply quietly. “And on days like today when the breeze rustles all the leaves, I love it even more. It’s a good thinking place.”
Momma cracks an eye open. “Care to share what some of those thoughts are? I can tell something’s been different with you lately. Not bad different, just different.”
I shrug and look away for a moment. “I don’t know if I can put it into words.”
“Would any of those thoughts be about Sullivan and, say…any feelings you might have toward him?”
The question is asked so casually that I almost don’t believe my ears. “What—how did you…?”
There’s a twinkle in her blue eyes. “It’s a mother’s job to pick up on these things.”
Dumbstruck, I gape at her.
“Close your mouth before a bee flies into it,” she teases. “Besides, I’ve noticed the way he looks at you recently.”
“You’re right,” I admit with no small amount of relief as I collapse against the tree.
“I’m so confused. He’s always been my brother, and when he’s suddenly not, I see him as an entirely different person.
A person I might not think of as a brother anymore but more like…
like a man. A man who doesn’t think of me as a sister either.
Is that…bad?” I cringe awaiting her reaction, but all she does is thoughtfully ponder.
“I don’t know that I’d call it bad. Perhaps a bit unusual.
Or perhaps not, given the circumstances.
” She tucks away some loose strands when the wind blows them into my face.
“We raised you as brother and sister, but there’s always been a unique bond between the two of you.
There’s absolutely no denying that. So I suppose I would have been more surprised if it hadn’t happened by now. ”
“He told me he was leaving Hope’s Stand,” I confess in abject misery. My heart deflates at the thought, and the more I think on it, the flatter it gets. “And he asked me to come with him.”
“Ahh…I see,” Momma says with more calm than I’d expect. “Is that what you want to do?”
I burst into tears. “I don’t know! He makes me so confused because I want to be with him because he’s my Sully and he always takes care of me, but I don’t want to leave you and Papa and Cecily.”
“Oh, my darling girl, come here,” she soothes. “It’s all right.”
I fall into my mother’s open arms so she can make everything better like she always does, but for the first time, there’s a bittersweet tinge to it. This is something a mother may not be able to fix.
When the worst of my crying subsides, she pulls back to study my tear-streaked face. “Do you love him?”
“I think so.” But I don’t know.
As if she read my mind—which she probably did—Momma grabs my hands. “Thinking so isn’t the same as knowing. Close your eyes for a moment.”
I stifle a hiccup and do as she says.
“Imagine yourself in your mind, and have her close her eyes, too.”
I immediately picture myself sitting peacefully right here in this tree, and the inner me has her eyes tightly shut. “Okay.”
“Now imagine her most joyful moment, whether it’s when she finds a stray baby animal or when she has a funny story to tell. Who’s the first person she wants to share it with?”
Sullivan’s blue and brown eyes and his half smile flash into my mind, and I bite my lip. “Sully.”