Far from the Tree - Robin Benway Page 0,113

says. “It’s a process.”

But Maya’s dance ends as suddenly as it begins, and even Grace looks up, surprised and sober, and Joaquin turns around to see Birdie standing there, along with her little brother and her parents. She looks as nervous as Joaquin feels. “Hi,” she says. “We got invited to the party. Hope it’s okay.”

Joaquin can’t say anything at first. “W-Who?” he manages to stammer out.

“Hi,” Grace says, standing up. “I’m Grace; this is Maya.”

“Hi,” Birdie says, but she’s still looking at Joaquin.

“Did you—” Joaquin starts to say to his sisters, but they’re already guiding Birdie’s parents and brother out into the backyard. “Right this way,” Maya’s saying. “Have you seen the lights in the trees? Beautiful. It’s like a fairy garden out there!”

The house seems even quieter with the party in full swing outside, and Joaquin stands and looks at Birdie. “Hi,” he finally says.

“Hi,” she says again, then holds out a present to him. “Oh, sorry! This is for you. Happy birthday and adoption.”

“Thanks,” Joaquin says. “Can I . . . ?” He feels as nervous as he did the day he met Birdie at school. It seems like a million years ago now, a different lifetime, a different person entirely.

“Yeah, of course,” Birdie says, and Joaquin carefully pulls off the bow and paper to reveal a framed poster. “ON THIS DAY” it says at the top in huge lettering.

“It’s this thing I found online,” Birdie says. “It tells you all the things that were popular on your birthday, like the top books, the top songs, the biggest movies. It just made me think of you when I saw it, so . . .” She trails off, her hands clasped in front of her.

“I love it,” he says, because he does. “Thanks, Bird.”

“Of course,” she says, and then she hesitates before saying, “It looks like a great party.”

“Joaquin!” someone yells from outside. “We’re taking a group photo, c’mon.”

Joaquin looks at Birdie, and she looks up at him.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers.

“You really hurt me, Joaquin,” she whispers back. “I mean, really hurt me.”

“I know,” Joaquin says. “I’m so sorry, Bird.”

“It’s just that every time I think about not having you in my life, it doesn’t feel right, you know? It’s like there’s a piece missing.” Birdie is wringing her hands in front of her. Joaquin wonders if they’re still cold, wants to reach out and hold them in his own hands. “I don’t know how you fit back in my life, if you’re a friend or my boyfriend or what, but I just know that you fit.”

Joaquin nods. “Okay,” he says, because it is okay. It will be okay. “We can talk, maybe? Tomorrow?”

“Joaquin!” Mark’s yelling from outside. “C’mon, group photo!

Both of their heads swivel toward the back door.

“Go, go,” Birdie says. “It’s your party—we can talk later.”

Joaquin just holds his hand out to her. “C’mon,” he says.

She smiles as he reaches down to take her hand, then leads her out to the lawn. The photographer arranges their whole group, even the mariachis, and Joaquin stands between Birdie and his sisters and his aunt and his parents, and he thinks of Melissa.

He hopes she can see him, because he sees her now. He sees her every single day.

He hopes he can make her proud.

“Okay, on the count of three!” the photographer shouts. “One, two—”

“Three!” everybody cries.

Joaquin thinks it just might be a photo worth saving.

GRACE

Grace pulls into the parking lot of the park two minutes early.

Her phone buzzes. It’s Rafe.

They bet $20?!?!?!

I know, right? Grace texts back.

I want a cut.

I’ll let Maya know.

You there yet?

Just parked.

Okay. Call me later if you want.

Okay. I like you.

I like you, too.

Grace gets out of the car and tucks the phone into her back pocket. She doesn’t know if she’s scared or nervous or just plain terrified, but there’s no going back now. She met with her birth mother support group a few days earlier, telling them about the upcoming meeting with a voice that didn’t shake or tremble. She had thought that she would never be able to talk about Peach with strangers, but the girls in her group understood.

At first, her parents were speechless that she had gone looking for Melissa without telling them. “We said that we would help you!” they cried the next day, after Joaquin had gone home with Mark and Linda and Maya had disappeared down the street, refusing a ride from everyone.

But then they talked, Grace’s guard worn away by exhaustion and relief and gratitude. She had taken a picture of Melissa from Joaquin’s collection, and when she put it on the table between her and her parents, their anger died away and they looked at the photo, silent.

They started talking more after that.

Grace’s parents told her what it had been like to bring her home as a brand-new infant, the worry that Melissa would take her back. “We had to wait ninety days before the adoption was official back then,” Grace’s mother said, and Grace noticed for the first time that the straw in her iced tea was chewed into ribbons. “We just didn’t want to lose you, not after finally getting you.”

Grace understood. She knows what it’s like now, to lose one thing and gain something else entirely. She knows how hard she will hold on to the things she has, the brother and sister who fill a new place in her life. The spot where Peach was is still there, still open and hollow, but there are new chambers in her heart that fill her up, make her feel whole in a way she didn’t before.

Every night, she sends a small thank-you to Melissa for choosing these two people to be her parents.

Grace hasn’t seen Max in months, hasn’t heard much about him, either. It’s still hard to think about him, but mostly she just feels sad for him. She’s thought about what she would say to him. She sometimes makes epic speeches in the shower about how “one day, she might come looking for you, and she might have questions, and then you can explain everything to her, so save your apologies because I don’t need them, but you might!” Sometimes she cries, and sometimes she’s angry, but mostly it just feels good to let Max go, to move forward, to move on.

Grace sits in the parking lot, looking out at the grassy park in front of her. Her phone buzzes again and she looks down at it to see a text message from Maya.

Good luck! it says, followed by two thumbs-up symbols.

Yeah, good luck! Joaquin’s message follows right after. Call us later.

I will, Grace types back, her hands shaking a little and making it hard to press the correct keys. She sends three hearts back to them, then gets out of the car. Her hands are sweaty, and she wipes them quickly on her jeans before walking with trembling knees toward the park. It’s a beautiful day, at least. Grace doesn’t think she’s ever seen such a blue sky before.

The park is massive, but at the far edge, she sees Daniel and Catalina. Catalina spots her first and waves her over. As soon as Grace is close enough, Catalina jogs over and immediately grabs her up in a huge hug. “Grace!” she says. “I’m so glad you could come!” Grace hugs her back and feels so grateful that Peach has someone to hug her like this every single day. “You look wonderful.”

“Thanks.” Grace smiles. “Sorry, I’m just really nervous.”

Catalina’s smile is warm and steady. “Of course,” she says, “but there’s no need to be.”

Grace takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly, nods. Daniel’s crouched on the ground a few feet away, babbling something, and he turns and stands when he hears Grace.

Grace sees her hair first, dark brown curls gathered at the back of her neck, the sun shining through the trees and dancing across her shoulders. She’s wearing a tiny, blue-checked dress and tights, plus a small white sweater. From this angle, Grace can see Maya’s eyes, Joaquin’s nose and jaw, Melissa’s hair.

Grace gathers her courage, finds her voice.

“Milly?” she says.

Peach looks up.

She sees Grace.

And she smiles.