My heart melted. I’d been just about to apologize to him.
“You don’t have to—”
“No,” he said, shushing me. “I do. I mean… I wanted to tell you something else, too.” He smiled. “You were right.”
Ryan wasn’t just smiling; he looked happy! Calm. Contented.
At peace.
“I saw my father,” he said. “I went to him. In Brooklyn. I saw him for the entire weekend, my sisters too.”
My whole face went alive at once. I was grinning from ear to ear. “That’s wonderful!”
“Yes,” he said. “It is.”
I went to open my mouth, but he kissed me. It wasn’t a kiss of passion though. It was the sweetest, most heartfelt kiss I’d ever received.
“Gabriel — my dad — he said he never knew. That my mother had kept it from him.”
It took half a second for me to realize what he was saying. And then:
“Oh my GOD!”
“Yeah,” he nodded. “It was surreal. He had no idea, Sammara. My mother split up with him shortly after she’d gotten pregnant, and went off to have me without him even knowing. She had… problems.” He fumbled around, searching for the words. “Drug problems.”
“You mean—”
He nodded. “All this time I had a father. And he had a son. And neither of us knew it.”
I went immediately silent. It was very deep thing. A hard realization.
And it was sad, too. So sad.
“But now…” he said. “Thanks to you…”
“No,” I smiled, taking his face in my hands. “You’re the one who made the decision. You’re the one who gets credit for going there. For trying to forgive.”
We held hands, and he interlaced his fingers with mine. His hands were still cold from being outside, but his face was warm and alive.
“So what happens next?”
He hesitated, but only for a moment. “We’re going to open some channels of communication. See if there could be a relationship there. Maybe we can get to know each other.” He shrugged shyly. “I know it’s not much, but it’s a start.”
I squeezed him reassuringly, letting him know it was a good start. Then his face lit up.
“My sisters are beautiful, Sammara. You should see them! One of them is already in college! She’s studying engineering. So smart…”
“Show me,” I smiled, pointing to his phone. “I want to see!”
He nodded. “Definitely. I’ll tell you everything. But first, I have something for you.”
Before I knew it he produced a box wrapped with a pink and silver ribbon. I was taken aback. I hadn’t expected anything like this.
“Open it.”
I pulled on the ribbon. Gently unfolded the paper. Inside was a beautiful, leather-bound journal with finished brass corners… and a single pen.
“That’s so you can write down your memories,” Ryan said. “Of your parents. Everything you remember about them — every moment, every feeling.” His voice was broken. Like he was choked up, which he was. “You write that stuff down, Sammara — all of it — so you’ll have it forever.” He looked at me and smiled. His eyes were glassy. “Because family’s important.”