“Do you blame me?”
“No,” she said frankly. “Look, I know you’re hurt and upset, but that’s no reason to write your family off. They still love you. I mean, I don’t know them, but they seem to love you a lot, especially since they keep begging you to come home.”
Austin fought a pang of guilt. “I have come home,” he muttered. “Numerous times, and each time I’m there, all I get is pressure. My mom wants everything to go back to normal, my brothers can’t understand why I’m being distant, my uncle acts like we’re still best buds—”
“Wait, does he even know he’s your real father?” Mari interrupted. “Maybe he doesn’t and that’s why he’s acting all normal.”
“He knows.” Resentment burned his insides, twisting his stomach into knots. “Mom said he’s always known. He stood on the sidelines for my entire life and pretended that he was nothing more than my fun-loving uncle. Who does that?”
“That’s rough,” Mari said softly.
“And now he knows that I know the truth, and he hasn’t said a goddamn word about it,” Austin continued through gritted teeth. “Mom brings it up every damn time I see her, but Rice? Not once has he called me up and said, ‘Hey, so I guess you know I’m your real dad.’” His hands curled over the steering wheel in a death grip. “So tell me, how am I supposed to forget that? How the hell am I supposed to forgive them?”
“Okay. Well, let me ask you this. Why are you so angry? I mean, where is the anger really coming from?”
He chewed on the inside of his cheek. “I’m angry because…because my mother kept this secret from me, damn it.”
“Really?” Mari pressed. “Is that truly what it’s about?”
A helpless feeling squeezed his chest until he could barely draw a breath. “I’m angry because she yanked my identity, my whole world, right from under me,” he burst out. “And before you say it, I know biology doesn’t mean shit and that I’m still the same person no matter who my father is. I know my family loves me, okay? But ever since I found out the truth, I feel like…like I don’t…”
“Belong,” Mari finished softly.
His gaze flew to hers. “Yeah. Yeah, that’s it exactly. I mean, my brothers are suddenly my half-brothers, my father isn’t my father, my uncle isn’t my uncle…” He trailed off, unable to make sense of his jumbled thoughts.
Mari sighed. “I know what it’s like to feel that way. When I was a kid, I used to wonder if I was adopted—I couldn’t fathom how my parents and I could actually be related. They love me, sure, and I have no doubt that they’d be there for me if I really needed them, but they never understood me. They didn’t get why I daydreamed in class when they’d been straight-A students, why I chose to teach art instead of academics, why I moved to Chicago instead of staying home. I’ve been the odd one out my whole life, so I get that feeling of not belonging, I really do.”
“But?” He waited for her to continue.
“But family is family. We might not always get along, we might lie and scream at each other and do shitty things sometimes, but you can’t just cut them out completely, especially when, essentially, they’re not bad people. I mean, it would be different if my parents were child abusers or something—then I could easily tell them to fuck off—but they’re not, and from the sound of it, your mother isn’t a bad person either. Neither are your uncle and brothers.” She paused. “Is your dad still around, by the way?”
“He died ten years ago.” As usual, the thought of his father’s death didn’t evoke a single emotion—Henry Bishop had been dead to him long before he’d actually died.
“Judging by the look on your face, I won’t bother offering condolences,” Mari said wryly. “But I will offer some advice—take as much time as you need, but don’t write your mother off completely. She might have done a shitty thing, but that doesn’t make her a shitty person.”
He swallowed. “She used to be my best friend, you know. And now…now when I look at her, I see a stranger.”
The sign for the next exit caught his eye, making him realize they’d nearly reached their destination.
“We need to get off here,” Mari piped up, but he was already signaling and changing lanes.
He couldn’t explain the disappointment swirling in his gut when the bus terminal came into view. He should be happy to put an end to this painful conversation, but he wasn’t ready to say goodbye to Mari.