My mom clears her throat. "And Colin? Have you told him?"
I know Mom doesn't like the fact that I still see my biological dad, but after the kidnapping he'd been there for me in a way that my parents--who are also Dallas's parents--couldn't be. And although he was a class-A fuckup when I was little, I think he's mostly gotten his shit together.
Mom, I know, isn't so sure.
"I called him from the road and told him the basics," I admit. "He wanted me to come straight over--but he also said he had plans to go to Boston for an overnighter. He told me he'd cancel, but that didn't really make a lot of sense, especially since I wanted to see Dallas. So I told him we could have dinner tomorrow when he gets back."
"Do you really think telling him was a good idea?" I hear the sharp edge in her voice and cringe.
"Mom." My voice is soft. "He deserves to know. I mean, he is my father."
"Not legally."
I exhale. "I know that. And I know he's a screw-up. But he's tried really hard to put his life back together."
My mother snorts. Clearly she doesn't believe me. "Tell that to the IRS agent who called me last week. He's under investigation again."
"Why are they calling you?" I ask, avoiding the real question of whether or not my birth father is backsliding.
"I was married to the man for ten years." I hear the shrug in her voice. "It's hard to escape your past."
I sigh, because isn't that the truth?
"I know it bothers you," I say. "That I see him, I mean. But--well, sometimes it helps."
"Oh, sweetheart." She sounds so lost, and I think again how much it must have hurt her when I'd begged to go to boarding school near him.
"Mom? I'm sorry."
"No." The word is sharp. "You have nothing to be sorry for. You and Dallas went through so much. Lost so much. And--and we all have things we regret. I'm sure Colin has many."
"He does. He's told me so over and over."
For a moment, she's silent. Then I hear Sarah's muffled voice telling Mom to take her time, that she'll wait in the car. A moment later, I hear a car door slam. I expect her to wrap up the conversation, so I'm surprised when she says, "Colin and I--well, we were never meant to be. But--You know that Eli and I had an affair?" She continues, the words sounding like they've burst out of her. "While I was still married to Colin?"
No one had ever specifically told me as much, but years later I figured it out. "Yeah," I say. "I know."
"We broke rules. Hurt people we loved--because even when Colin screwed up, I did still love him. Maybe I still do in some ways even though he makes me so damn angry. But the point is that I don't regret the affair. Not really. Your dad and I were meant to be together. It wasn't an easy path, but sometimes the best destinations require the most difficult journeys."
"Have you been skimming Reader's Digest again?" I keep my tone light, a little uncomfortable with such an intensely personal revelation from my mom.
"I swear that's my own original slice of brilliance. And all I'm saying is it was worth it, but it wasn't easy, especially on you kids."
"I guess not. But I don't know anyone with a normal nuclear family these days."
"Well, that's true," she says with a laugh. "But I meant the way we bounced you and Dallas around with marriages and adoptions. Sometimes I think Dallas should have lived with us as Eli's nephew, and you should have simply been Eli's stepdaughter. I think maybe it would have been easier."
I hear her long sigh before she continues. "But he wanted legal heirs. He wanted the picture perfect family package. A wife and two kids to shoulder the Sykes empire once he was gone. We never had the dog, but we all did okay. Didn't we?" she asks, and the question seems so genuine that I wish I was back in LA so that I could give her a long, tight hug.
"Of course we did, Mom," I say, and it's not a lie. My life may be screwed up and I may wish that things were different, but I'm doing okay. I'm surviving, aren't I?
"Well," she says, and I imagine her smoothing her skirt as she gathers herself. "I stepped out of the car to talk, but I should get back to Sarah. And our driver is probably wondering if I've lost my mind. I'll see you on the island this weekend, okay?"
"I can't wait. I love you, Mom."
"Love you more."
We say our goodbyes and I sit for a moment longer. I may not have had the best luck on the father side of the equation--at least not originally--but I won the lottery with my mom.