The Year I Became Isabella Ande - Jessica Sorensen Page 0,16
all over the grass. “It could be adoption . . . or it could be that maybe your . . .” She looks at me and pity fills her eyes. “Have you ever wondered why your mom treats you like shit?”
“You’ve noticed that?”
“Isa, everyone who’s ever crossed paths with the two of you knows there’s tension between you and your mother.”
“Tension from her,” I point out. “I try to be nice, but she acts like I’m some sort of vile reptile or something.”
She puts her cigarette between her lips and smoke laces the air as she dazes off at the highway again. “I have this theory that maybe the reason she’s always treated you like shit is because maybe you remind her of a shitty time in her life . . . maybe something shitty your dad did to her that kind of led to the procreation of you.”
It takes a second or two to process what she’s implying. “Wait . . . you think . . .” I shake my head. “No, there’s no way. My dad didn’t have an affair . . . he wouldn’t do that to my mom. Trust me. He does everything she says, sometimes too much.”
Her brows arch. “He wouldn’t, huh? Okay, I guess my theory’s wrong.”
I shake my head, but inside, my wheels are turning. All those times my mother looked at me with such disdain, and sometimes jealousy, are starting to make sense.
“I know this isn’t what you want to hear,” she says then mutters, “Although, I don’t know why. Your mom’s a bitch.” She clears her throat. “But you have to admit it kind of makes sense.”
I lower my head into my hands. “None of this makes sense. Where did you even get this theory? Did you just pull it out of your ass, or is it based on some sort of legit info?”
“I heard a rumor,” she says. “Or, well, I overheard my mom and dad gossiping about your family once, and my mom said something about the other woman, and how it was a good thing your dad didn’t leave you with her.”
Wide-eyed, I lift my head and gape at her. “How long ago was this?”
She shrugs as she puts the cigarette out in a patch of dirt. “I don’t know. Like a few years ago or something.”
“Why didn’t you ever say anything to me?”
“Isa, this is like the longest the two of us have talked. Usually, at reunions, your family stays in a hotel and spends a whole lot of time sitting around in the corner with your noses stuck in the air like a bunch of snobs.”
“My mom makes me do that.” It hits me as I say it, like a bull charging straight into my stomach. “Wait. Am I even supposed to call her mom?” I push to my feet and pace in front of Indigo, reaching full on crazy panic mode. “Or am I supposed to call her Lynn. Oh, my God, I just realized that my sister’s middle name is after my mom’s first name, but I’m named after no one. It has to be true.” I crouch down again as my legs turn into Jell-O. “I don’t even know who my mom is.”
“Hey, chill out.” She scoots toward me to catch my gaze. “My theory is just a theory. And I should probably tell you that I had a theory that Grandpa was reincarnated into Beastie.” She smiles as I blink at her. Wow. She sounds as crazy as . . . well, me. “What? They have the same eyes, okay? And you have to admit it’d be pretty cool if reincarnation existed.”
“That mean, old cat isn’t Grandpa,” I say. “But I get what you’re saying. I need to get some answers before I have a meltdown.”
“Or you could just skip the meltdown and use this as an opportunity,” she suggests with a smile.
“An opportunity for what?”
“To take a self-discovering journey.”
“But I already know who I am.”
She inspects my outfit with her brows raised. “I’m not sure I agree with you.”
I tug on the bottom of my hoodie. “Just because I dress a little different doesn’t mean I don’t know who I am.”
Her head slants to the side as she studies me. “Okay, answer this for me. What’s the most exciting thing you’ve ever done?”
“I don’t know.” I try to think of something, and it’s pretty dang sad how hard it is to come up with anything. “I entered a comic contest once.