Rain or shine, our mother made them every Sunday. Even when her body was ravaged with cancer, she would sit Micaela in her high chair and me on her lap, helping me to make the batter and frosting. Intolerable, voiceless grief smashes through me, digging out my heart from my chest. God, I miss her so much.
"Excuse my mess, getting the paper grading mountain tamed is a losing battle." She moves the stack of papers to the armchair. "I was about to have a coffee break and muffins. Want some?" Exhaling, I lock my grief away and tilt my head in a yes, plastering a smile to hide the tumultuous emotions waging a war inside me.
"I'll be right back. Make yourself comfortable." It's only when she plods back to the kitchen that my ears register the 80's music playing in the background.
Universe, are you screwing with me today? Our parents were obsessed with 80's music, playing it on repeat 24/7 in our house. She comes back with a tray loaded with muffins and two steaming cups of coffee. As she places the tray on the table, my eyes lock onto the butterfly birthmark on the inside of her wrist. Fuck! A soft gasp escapes my lips. The shock sucker punches the air out of me. If this isn't proof she's my sister, then I don't know what is.
"Thank you. I'm sorry I dropped in unannounced. It was a spur of a moment decision, as I was driving home on my way back from the airport," I mutter, forcing myself to keep my voice steady. Hearing my words, she widens her almond-shaped eyes, wrinkling her nose in surprised confusion.
For goodness' sake, have I been so blinded with love for Alexandra that it stopped me from noticing how much my sister resembles our mother, despite having the exact shade of steel-blue eyes like our dad? Even if I did, what could I have done? Waltzed up to her, demanding she take a DNA test because I believe she's my long-lost sister? She would have had me arrested and committed to a psych ward. Anyhow, there's no easy way to break the news to her now. Sliding my hand down my jacket pocket, I whip out the photograph of me and her sitting on a bench eating ice cream. Leaning forward, I pass her the photo of us. Covering her mouth with her palm, she darts her gaze to my face and chokes back a sob.
"Is it real? I didn't make up this memory?" Her words break up, eyes drowning in unshed tears.
I am on the verge of coming undone, but I compose myself enough to answer. "Yes, it was the last time we were together. The next day, social services took you to the family who adopted you. On that day, I promised myself I would find you when I grew up and I've kept my word. I haven't stopped searching for you, Micaela."
A flash of anger crosses her expression when she hears her birth name, but she doesn't correct me.
"For days, I was crying myself to sleep, praying you would come back for me. But as the days turned into months and you didn't come back, I deliberately blocked my memories of you, Mom and Dad. It was the only way I could survive the loss of losing you all," her voice falters. I take a long, pained breath as my temples throb with anger.
You should have been there for her. You promised Mother on her deathbed that you'd always keep her safe and protect her.She was better off with her loving adopted family. Growing up in foster care is rough and many vulnerable kids get lost in the system. I've seen things I could never unsee, and it would have killed me if anything had happened to my baby sister. I drown my lungs with air to stop myself from spiraling down into the dark, cold hole of self-loathing. She buries her face into her hands, the sound of her wailing echoing around the house. Scrambling to my feet, I drop next to her and pull her into a bear hug. My heart splinters into pieces as I let my sister fall apart in my arms, and there is no damn thing I can do to make it better. You must protect her and never let go, Sebastian. I hold her, gently patting her back until she calms down and lets go of me. Swallowing hard, she shifts her gaze to mine.
"Sorry bro, I'm an ugly crier. I've been trying to keep my emotions under a tight lid since I discovered I was adopted, but seeing the photo of us kinda broke me." She wraps her arms around her legs, resting her chin on her knees. Extending my hand over the table, I pick up a napkin and hand it to her.
"Don't worry, sis, it runs in the family. Dad was the ugliest crier, snot and all." I chuckle, trying to lighten the mood.
"I wish I could remember them. Sometimes, the image of a dark-haired boy pushing me on a swing trickles in my mind, but it feels unreal, almost like a scene from a black and white movie." She fans her swollen, blotchy face.
"That's me and you. Dad made the swing for you on your first birthday. I was lucky they let me keep the photo albums. They were my most prized possession as I bounced from one foster family to another. It's what kept me going." Exhaling deeply, I pull the corner of my mouth into a tight smile.
"Oh my God, I'm so sorry you had to go through so much suffering. Life sucks! But the good thing is we finally found each other, right?" Leaning forward, she gives me a hug, squeezing me tight. Sparks of pure, indescribable joy flicker in my heart, making me feel light and carefree, like the world was finally set to rights.
While devouring her scrumptious muffins, we take turns asking each other questions. We laugh and joke as if we'd never been apart. I fill her in on everything I've learned about our father and our grandmother's plan for all of us to spend time together in the Hamptons. Stuffing a large piece of muffin in my mouth, which by the way is as good as our mother's, I listen to her explaining to me the shock of finding out her adoptive parents had changed her name from Micaela to Heidi. They disclosed that their two-year-old daughter died shortly before they adopted her and she reminded them so much of her they changed her name. Any loss, big or small, is devastating, but losing a child must be soul crushing.
"Now, I'm not trying to make any excuses for them. Grief can cause people to make irrational decisions that might have felt like the right ones at that moment in time. They probably wanted to protect you and feared losing you. I'm sure it wasn't their intention to betray or hurt you." I give her a reassuring smile. Rolling her shoulders, she slumps on the couch as a cloud of irritation crosses her face.
"I know you're right. They've been wonderful parents, but I had the right to know." If I were her, I'd have wanted to know, so I don't say anything; instead, I incline my head in agreement.
"I didn't want to say anything earlier because I was still mad about the whole background check fiasco, but now that I know you are my brother, I should tell you. Sadly, Allie's dad passed away, and the funeral is in two days. She isn't doing well. You should go be with her."
"I know I fucked up. I promise I'll do everything I can to make this right, starting with booking the first flight to San Diego. Who should break the news about you being my sister?"
"Sounds like a brilliant plan. Leave it to me. I'll talk to her when she comes back home."
We continue reminiscing and end up in stitches as we joke about the choices of names and surnames, we could pick from now that we've discovered our father's real identity. Pain tightens my gut, forcing me to stop laughing. The upbeat sound of Sexy and I Know It blares from her phone and Christopher's name lights up on her screen. I curve my brow in surprise. Her gaze darts from the screen to me, a rose-pink blush staining her cheeks. I quirk an eyebrow questioningly, wondering when they exchanged numbers.
"Sorry, forgot to tell you he's coming over tonight to eat my muffins. Dammit, that came out wrong! You know what I mean." I've seen him ogling her in the club, but he hasn't mentioned anything about meeting her outside Club Dominion.
I might need to have a serious chat with him. He needs to know I won't let him break my sister's heart.
"Mm-hmm. As your older brother, it's my duty to defend the honor of my baby sister. If the heartbreaker hurts you, I will kill him and make it look like an accident." I force myself to keep a straight face, but when our gazes connect, we erupt into hysterical laughter. We both know she can end his existence if he tries to hurt her.