The Year I Became Isabella Ande - Jessica Sorensen Page 0,77
“All right, Kyler, you have yourself a deal.”
An hour later, he’s leaving with his freshly baked cookies and his head crammed full of superpower knowledge. I feel like I’m floating on clouds and skipping on rainbows, even if my head aches from football facts.
The second the door closes, I overdramatically fall to the floor. “What the hell just happened?” I say, draping my arm over my head. “Did I seriously just spend over an hour talking to Kyler about football and Jedi mind skills?”
Grandma Stephy laughs at me as she starts piling dirty bowls into the sink. “To be young and in love again. I’ve completely forgotten how silly love can make someone.”
“I’m not in love with Kyler. I’m just . . .” I push up on my elbows. “You did hear him, right? I mean, I didn’t dream what just happened, did I? Because I’ve dreamt about him asking me out for a long, long time.” Well, up until recently. Lately, my dreams have been chock full of worries about never finding my mom.
“You’re awake. I promise.” She grabs a dishtowel and tosses it at my face. “Now, get your ass over here and help me clean up this mess.”
I drag myself off the floor and put the flour and sugar into the pantry. “Can I ask you a question?”
“Isabella Anders, you need to stop asking that question before you ask a question,” she gripes as she puts the egg carton back into the fridge.
“Sorry, but I kind of wanted to prepare you for what I was about to ask.”
She pauses, worry creasing her face. “What is it?”
I sigh then tell her about the photo and the birth certificate, omitting the details of what Kai and I did with the certificate.
“I thought I told you to leave this alone and let me handle this. That snooping around wasn’t a good idea,” she says when I’m finished.
“I can’t just sit around and wonder what’s going on.” I pull out a barstool and sit down. “It’s driving me crazy not knowing what happened, where she is, who she is. I feel like I don’t know who I am anymore. Like I’m just this person floating around in the world, lost, without a family. And I don’t want to float anymore.”
She takes a seat on a barstool beside me. “Honey, I know it’s confusing right now, but give me some time to get the story out of your father. I know it’s not happening as fast as you like, but I really do believe that eventually he’ll break down and tell us if I push him just enough.”
I glance down at my bandaged knee, remembering the last time she tried to push him. “You really think you’ll be able to get him to tell you?”
She hesitantly nods. “Eventually, yes.”
I want to believe her—I really do—but I’ve heard the two of them yelling on the phone at each other over the last couple of weeks, and my dad seems pretty dead set on no one telling me anything about my mom.
“Do you have that photo on you?” she asks, wiping her hands off on a dishtowel.
I retrieve the picture from my pocket and hand it to her.
A faint smile rises on her lips. “You look a lot like her.”
“Have you ever seen her before?”
She shakes her head. “I’m sorry. I really am. I wish you didn’t have to go through this.”
“It’s not your fault.” I suck back the tears, get up, and start sweeping the kitchen floor.
But one question is stuck in my head. How did my dad manage to keep my mom such a secret?
“Isa, stop sweeping. The last thing you should be doing is cleaning.” She stands up and grabs her purse from the table. “Why don’t we go out for dinner? We can go to that diner you love, and I’ll even let you order dessert first.”
“That sounds nice.” I smile so she’ll relax, but deep down, I know that even sugar isn’t going to cure the hole forming in the center of my heart.
The only thing that will ever fix it is finding my real mom.
SHIT HAS OFFICIALLY hit the fan. Because Sunday morning, when I return home from my grandma’s, Lynn is there. And she’s alone.
“Where’s Dad?” I ask as I enter the kitchen, which is still trashed from Hannah’s party she had last night.
“He had to make a quick trip out to Florida for work,” she answers, sorting through the stack of mail on the counter littered