Far from the Tree

“I can live with that.” Maya, a little out of breath, started to read the message. “‘Dear Grace,’” she read, “‘it’s been another month and Milly is changing so much, so fast.’”

Grace felt all of the breath leave her body.

“‘She continues to be the precious light of our lives, and we think of you every day, of course.’”

“Stop,” Grace said, but she couldn’t make her voice louder than a whisper.

Maya had frozen in place, her face going from gleeful to confused. “There’s a picture of a baby,” she said. “Grace, what is—”

Grace forced her legs to move forward, and she swiped the phone from Maya so fast that it clattered to the floor. “Stop it,” she hissed. “I told you to leave it the fuck alone, Maya.”

Next to her, Joaquin was standing still, the cheese slicer still in his hand, watching both of them.

The silence was horrible.

“Who’s Milly?” Maya finally asked. “Is that your baby, Grace?”

Grace closed her eyes, praying that it was a dream, that she could go back in time and wake up in her bed a year ago and have everything go back to normal. “Shut up,” she whispered.

“Did you have a baby?” Maya asked again, and she sounded genuinely confused. “Grace, answer me.”

“It’s none of your business!” Grace screamed at her, reaching down with shaking hands to pick up her phone.

“You had a baby and you didn’t tell us?” Maya shouted. “Are you serious? I told you about my mom and her drinking and Joaquin told you about Natalie and the accident, and you’ve been keeping this from us?”

“Why would I tell you?” Grace shot back. “So you could just say that I abandoned her, the way our mom abandoned us? Or so you could call me a slut, like Adam did?”

Joaquin’s face went solemn. “Oh, shit,” he said softly. “That’s what that was about?”

“I didn’t abandon her, okay?” Grace cried. “I found a really great family for her. And she’s perfect and they love her and she’s happy! She’s going to be so happy and she’ll have everything I couldn’t give her! Did you ever think about that when you were busy hating our mom, Maya? That maybe she did it because she loved us?”

Maya looked stunned. “Grace,” she said.

Grace was trying her best not to cry. “I just didn’t want you two to hate me, or say all these things about me like everyone else does. Because I love her so much and I would never . . . I would never just abandon her. That’s not what I did. I swear to God, I didn’t abandon her, but I feel so . . .” Grace was trying to gulp in air and the necklace shifted against her chest, making her physically ache. “It’s just like there’s this space where she used to be and now I can’t fill it, and I keep trying, but I’m walking around with this hole inside me and she’s not . . . she’s not . . .”

Joaquin was the first one to grab her, and then Maya was there, too, Grace’s tears wetting her shoulder as they hugged her tight. “It’s okay,” Maya kept saying, and Joaquin’s hand was both strong and soft against her hair, and Grace pressed her face against both of them and quietly, steadily, lost her mind.

When she woke up, it was in a room that she didn’t recognize. And then she noticed the Polaroids that were marching down one side of the wall, and the pink curtains that had been pulled shut. She had seen this room once before, what seemed like months ago. It was Maya’s, and she was in Maya’s bed, the blanket at the edge of the bed spread over her. Someone had taken her shoes off, too, and Grace glanced down to see them neatly lined up next to each other on the floor.

“Hi,” Maya said softly, and Grace rolled over to see her curled up on the other side of the bed. “Feel better?”

Grace rubbed at her eyes as she tried to sit up. They felt thick and swollen, and her mouth was dry. She remembered Maya and Joaquin guiding her up the stairs, still weeping, Maya saying, “Shh, sleep,” as Joaquin covered her up with the well-worn blanket.

Grace was very touched and very mortified.

“A little,” Grace answered. “Where’s Joaq?”

“He went downstairs.” Maya gestured toward the half-open door. “Here, I got you a washcloth.”

Grace took it gratefully, pressing it against her sticky eyes and cheeks. “Thank you.”

“Of course.” Maya carefully pushed her fingers through Grace’s hair, easing out some of the tangles. “Grace? I’m sorry I stole your phone. I just thought it was a boy texting you. I didn’t—”

“It’s okay,” Grace said, because it was. “I know you didn’t mean to. I should have told you a long time ago. You and Joaq were brave and I wasn’t.”

“I think you’re very brave,” Maya said, still combing through her hair. “Was he your first?”

Grace nodded.

“Did you love him?”

“I thought I did. But now I think that maybe I just loved being in love with him.”

Maya nodded. “And he didn’t want to keep her?”

“His parents didn’t want him to keep her. He signed away all his rights.”

“Oh, boys,” Maya sighed. “You know, none of this would have happened if you had just been a lesbian like your adorable little sister.”

Grace smiled a little. “Shut up.”

“I’m serious,” Maya said, but Grace could tell from her tone of voice that she wasn’t. “At least tell me the sex was good. If you have to get pregnant and have a baby, the sex should be mind-blowing.”

“It was fine,” Grace told her.

Maya just wrinkled her nose. “Fine is probably the worst word to describe sex,” she said.

Grace had never been so happy to see Joaquin walk into a room.

“Hey,” he said. “You’re awake.” He had three bottles of water and he handed one to each of them. “How do you feel?”

“Like shit,” Grace admitted. “All the time.”

Maya nestled closer to her, pressing up against Grace’s side as Joaquin sat down on the edge of the bed next to them. “I’m sorry if we made you feel like you couldn’t tell us,” Maya murmured. “I’m so sorry, Grace. We both are. We didn’t know.”

“It’s okay,” Grace whispered, then sipped at the water. It felt so good and cold and clean that it was almost enough to wash everything else away. “I should have told you sooner.” She glanced toward Joaquin. “I didn’t want you to think that I left her like our mom left you.”

Joaquin just looked at her like she had three heads. “I would never think that,” he said. “Not in a million years.”

“Can I ask a question, though?” Maya asked.

“Of course.” Grace sipped at her water again.

“Is her name Milly?” Maya sounded very, very small. “That’s what it said in the email.”

Grace nodded, digging around under her shirt until she found the necklace, then pulled it out. “They named her Amelía. Milly for short. But I used to call her Peach when I was pregnant with her.” She pressed her thumb against the charms, separating them a little. “It’s not my grandmother’s. I bought it online.”

Maya reached over and took the chain in her hands. “It’s beautiful,” she said. “She’s beautiful, too. She looked like you in that photo.”

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