Old Fashioned - Becker Brothers

I thanked her with a nod.

Gabby looked so much like Sydney, and I loved watching them together. They had that familiar comfort that I had with my brothers. It was in the way they spoke, the way there were so many things they didn’t have to even speak out loud for the other to understand.

Sisters.

And when I glanced at Mallory from across the table, it hit me for the hundredth time that week that I now had one, too.

“Jordan,” Mom said after breakfast, standing as Logan and Noah worked on clearing the dishes from the table. “Can we talk outside?”

Sydney and I exchanged glances, and she nodded encouragingly before I grabbed my coffee and made my way out onto the front porch with Mom. She sat in her favorite rocking chair, cupping her mug of tea between her hands, her favorite shawl wrapped tight around her shoulders as her eyes swept over the yard.

I took the seat next to her, and for a long time, we were both silent.

“Do you know why I named you Jordan?” she asked.

My stomach was in knots, because though we’d talked a lot since what happened at Patrick’s home on Monday night, we hadn’t been completely alone. And though she was still the same mom she’d always been to me, and I was still her son, there was a new, foreign cloud that hung between us — one with a lifetime of her hiding a secret from me that I found out in the worst way.

“I don’t,” I answered.

“In the New Testament, the River Palestine is where Jesus Christ is baptized by John the Baptist,” she explained. “And Jordan comes from the Hebrew term, Yarden, which means to flow down. To descend.”

I frowned, but Mom looked at me then with a soft smile.

“That’s what you had done,” she said. “You had flowed down to us from the heavens we were praying to every night to help us get pregnant. Descended, as if God himself had placed you in our arms. And we never could have known then that he would bless us later in life with three crazy, but amazing little boys to be your brothers,” she said on a chuckle. “At the time, Jordan — you were it for us. You were our only one, and we thought that maybe you would always be our only one.”

The corner of my mouth lifted, and I reached over to place my hand on hers for a moment before I held my coffee mug again.

Mom held my gaze. “I’m sorry, Son. I’m sorry it wasn’t me who you learned your true past from.” She looked grim. “I know it may not make sense to you, and I understand if you’re angry with me. But… I made a promise to a woman who used to be one of my best friends. And, honestly, I swear, I didn’t know who your father was,” she added. “But, in my mind, as your mother, I was protecting you as much as I was protecting Mary by hiding the truth. In my eyes, you were never hers, anyway.” Her eyes welled with tears. “You are, always have been, and always will be mine and John’s son.”

I set my coffee down and stood, extending a hand for Mom to do the same. She set her tea down, too, and then she was in my arms, and I hugged her tight as her little shoulders shook in my grasp.

“It’s okay, Mom,” I told her. “I understand. If Sydney has taught me anything, it’s that parents sacrifice for their children, and they make tough decisions that affect their lives, too. But, I know you and Dad love me, and that everything you’ve done in your life has been with my best interests at heart.”

“You don’t hate us?”

I chuckled, hugging her tighter. “I could never.”

She pulled back, looking up at me with a sniff.

“I was upset at first,” I admitted. “Mostly because I was hurt by the truth, and confused, and I’ll admit, a bit sad to know that I’m related to a family I’ve spent most of my life hating. But… I understand. Not just you and Dad, but Mary, too. And maybe one day we can have some sort of relationship,” I offered. “Not now, but maybe one day.”

“And what about Eli?”

I smiled. “I went over to his place last night and we talked about everything. He’s in shock, of course, but said he kind of always knew, in a way. So… yeah, maybe I’ll have a second father, too.” I shrugged. “But, I feel the same way you do. You and Dad have always been and always will be my parents. This doesn’t change that for me, either.”

A few tears slipped free when she smiled, the edges of her eyes crinkling, and she hugged me tight again.