HADES Read online

  So, best believe I’m all smiles when Tess comes to visit a couple of weeks after my arrival with a huge gift basket and bouquet of wildflowers.

  “A couple of moms at the shelter picked them out themselves during our monthly hike on the Buckeye Trail after I let them know about your generous donation,” she tells Galen and me with a grateful smile.

  “Now isn’t this thoughtful?” Galen returns Tess’s smile with a charming one of his own and steps forward to take the flowers. “I’m going to put them on the table in the kitchen so we can look at them whenever we sit down for a meal.”

  “Um, okay. Thank you,” Tess says stiffly. She averts her eyes, and I wonder if it’s because she’s socially awkward or because Galen makes her nervous. Probably the last one. I’ve been living here a week, but I’m still not used to living with someone who looks like an Olympian god. And when he smiles at me, I continue to feel all melty inside.

  Anyway, Tess gives me a huge hug after he leaves with the flowers. “Wow, you still look like your same ridiculously beautiful self, and I love the new side shave. Your curls were cute before, but this is even cuter.”

  Yes, my hair looks a lot better than when I first came home from the hospital, but I’m a little confused by Tess’s compliment. “So, wait, I don’t usually wear a weave?”

  “Not that I ever knew of…” Tess answers, her voice going from complimentary to confused. “I mean, maybe before you came with Daphne to Ohio. But the Stephanie I know was mostly messy ponytails and bulky sweatshirts.”

  Okay, what? That can’t be right. I was so embarrassed about wearing sweat shorts and a tee out of the hospital. And, best believe, I’ve already started replacing all the clothes I found folded up in my bedroom’s single dresser drawer with more appropriate pieces.

  I’d assumed that Galen had gone to Target or something and just bought a bunch of stuff that was mostly too big on me. But now I have to wonder if the moving guys had actually found all the leisure wear my mother would’ve hated in the tiny studio apartment I apparently used to live in and packed it up along with the rest of my things.

  “I’m sorry it took so long for me to visit,” Tess says, drawing me back to our visit. “Your, uh…husband wanted to be sure you were ready. But, of course, I came right over as soon as he texted it was time.”

  “I’m so glad Galen sent you that text,” I say. “He’s such an amazing guy.”

  “Yeah, seems like it,” Tess answers in a tone that’s not nearly as enthusiastic as when we were just talking about my hair. But then she looks around and says, “This place is huge. I’m gonna need a tour.”

  I happily give Tess the tour. But I’m checking her out the entire time she’s taking in the house.

  So, this is my mother’s sister? She’s a lot younger than Lady would have been if she’d lived, probably not even a decade older than me. She’s also dark-skinned—she would not have fit in seamlessly with our light-skinned Southern family. And unlike my mother and me, she didn’t inherit my unknown Filipino grandfather’s epicanthal folds.

  She goggles at the house with wide, round eyes as I show her all the rooms. Still, I can see the close family resemblance. Other than the eyes, she basically looks like a much darker, much plumper version of my mother.

  Lady never talked much about her family. They were based in Ohio, and we were never going there—that was pretty much the extent of what I knew about them. Also, according to her ominous lectures, they were the one thing Lady couldn’t abide: fat.

  My mom gave Daphne so much grief about being chubby growing up, I wonder if my little sister enjoyed being taken care of by someone who looked a lot more like her and probably didn’t slap her hand every time she reached for a second serving.

  I don’t remember making the call to bring Daphne to live with Tess after my father’s death, but I’m suddenly grateful to my unremembered self for doing so.

  Still, it strikes me as a strange decision, considering Galen’s wealth. Why did I leave him and bring her to some aunt neither of us had ever met before as opposed to taking care of her myself?

  That’s why I’m a little glad Daphne wasn’t able to come with her aunt. I miss her like crazy and can’t wait to see her again at the end of the summer. But I also have questions—sensitive questions it wouldn’t have been polite to ask with Daphne in the same room.

  I plan to broach the subject carefully after showing Tess into my office, the temporary headquarters for the Amy Fairgood Foundation.

  “Galen just leased a building in downtown Columbus as the headquarters of RR Homes—that’s the name of his real estate corporation,” I say as I set her gift basket down on my desk. “But he’s giving us a whole floor for the foundation.”

  “That’s really nice,” Tess says in that agreeable but completely noncommittal tone she’s been using whenever I bring up Galen.

  But then she takes a seat on the aqua-blue couch that sits in front of my desk and loudly says, “Since we’re in your office, I can tell you about how we plan to spend the money you and Galen so generously donated to us.” Like she’s hoping to be overheard by my husband.

  “Oh great,” I answer out loud, even as I inwardly frown.

  I have no idea what our relationship was like in the past. But her voice sounds weirdly formal as if we’re business associates, not relatives.

  Still, I take a seat on the couch myself. If she wants to talk business, we can do that too before I get to the real reason I brought her in here.

  But as soon as I sit down, instead of talking about how she plans to spend the money we’ve granted her, she grabs ahold of my hand and whispers, “Okay, give it to me straight, Steph. Are you sure this is where you want to be?”

  I shake my head at her, confused by the question and her urgent tone.

  “That Galen guy said he offered you the option of coming home with me,” she whispers. “I just want you to know that’s still on the table. If you don’t want to be here, you don’t have to be. I’m here and ready to pull out that air mattress you slept on when you and Daphne first came to town.”

  “Oh, wow, that’s a generous invitation…” Luckily, I didn’t lose my manners along with my memories or else I might have screwed up my face and asked if she was serious. I try my hardest not to be snobby, but why in the world would I pick someone’s two-bedroom apartment in downtown Columbus over a glass and stone estate with gorgeous views and few neighbors?

  “Living here is absolutely what I want. I love it here,” I assure her in my most gracious tone.

  Then I quickly move on to the subject I really brought her in here to talk about. “In fact, this place is so big, I was thinking that maybe Daphne could move in with me when she gets back from…ah, Boston, was it?”

  I’m still not clear on all the details of Daphne’s arrangement with Tess or why my sister’s spending the summer on the East Coast. But I maintain my polite tone and push forward with, “I can’t thank you enough for taking care of her after my father died. But I know you have limited funds. And now that Galen and I are back together, I’d like to unburden you and bring Daphne to live with us.”

  Tess withdraws her hand from mine, her entire face stricken with horror. “You want to unburden me by taking Daphne away from me?”

  Okay, she and my sister obviously bonded over the last three years. I quickly edit my originally planned pitch.

  “That was the wrong choice of words. More like lighten your load. And, of course, you’re invited too,” I tell her. “The more the merrier. I mean, we obviously have the room. But if this is too far from Columbus for you to make the commute, you can see her whenever you want. As long as it’s over here.”

  Tess squints at me, then blinks and shakes her head. “Are you joking?”

  “I’m not,” I answer. And I don’t want to outright threaten the aunt who took Daphne in because of what sounds like a bout of really stubborn pride on my part. But I’ve come to my senses now. I’m not above suing for custody if she m
akes me go that route.

  So I let my polite tone go chilly and remind her, “Daphne’s my sister, and I truly believe she’ll be more comfortable living here with me.”

  “No, Steph…” Tess’s face goes from insulted to just plain confused. Then she says, “Daphne isn’t your sister. She’s my daughter.”

  CHAPTER 8

  STEPHANIE

  Wait…hold all the way up.

  My next words explode out of my mouth. “You’re Daphne’s mother?”

  Tess rubs her forehead. “Okay, well, I guess we’ve got to do this all over again.”

  She levels me with a frank look. “Yes, Daphne is my daughter. I was only sixteen when I found out I had a baby on the way.”

  Tess relays this information without any emotion in her voice, despite the bomb she’s dropping on me—maybe because it’s her second time around telling me.

  “Grandma was very disappointed when I finally got up the courage to let her know I was pregnant. She raised me right, and she thought our generational cycle of teenage pregnancy would end with me. I thought she was trying to support me when she offered to help me labor and deliver at home. But shortly after the delivery, she disappeared with the baby while I was sleeping. I didn’t even get a chance to name her. She just left me a package of medical-grade pads and a note saying she’d found a rich Black family to take the baby. Then she showed up six days later and said it was all done and that I was lucky she gave my daughter away because she was tired, and I didn’t have the resources to raise her on my own.”

  Before, Tess was a tough reporter, just delivering the facts. But her voice cracks when she says, “What could I do? I was only sixteen. I hated the baby’s father. And Grandma was right. I didn’t have the resources to raise a baby on my own. But I had no idea the anonymous Black family was actually related to me until you and Daphne showed up on my doorstep, calling me Aunt Tess.”

  “Oh, my God, Tess.” This time I reach out and take her hand. “I’m so sorry your grandma never told you she was with your big sister the entire time.”

  Tess looks at me strangely. Then takes back her hand again.

  “Did I say something wrong?” I ask, silently cursing myself. The last thing I wanted was to offend her again after what our parents did.

  “I was wondering if you were pretending not to be shocked when I told you and Daphne the real deal about our relationship. I didn’t know you from Adam back then. But nothing seemed to phase you. I couldn’t tell if you were upset or even a little surprised. You just blinked and said, ‘okay’ when I told you Daphne wasn’t really your sister.”

  “I mean, I still consider her my little sister, even if she’s my cousin,” I answer. “Nothing will ever change how much I love her or what she means to me.”

  “I believe that’s true. Then and now. But the thing is…” Tess shifts uncomfortably on the couch. “Daphne isn’t your cousin. She’s your niece. Daphne was taken from me. But your mom —our mom—left me behind with her mother. I called Grandma and my stepgrandfather Mama and Papai. But unlike your mom with Daphne, our grandma always made sure I knew that I had a birth mom out there. Somewhere.”

  A sad sigh expels from Tess’s mouth before she tells me, “She was always so resentful at our mother for running off. I guess she figured leaving Daphne on your doorstep was some kind of Pyrrhic victory. Maybe it truly was for her. But she lost me in the process.”

  Tess shakes her head bitterly. “I’ll help anyone who needs me, but as soon as I turned eighteen, I moved out and left my mother to die alone. She was an alcoholic, so that day came sooner than later, but she took the secret of Daphne’s whereabouts to her grave. She never told me the truth, just like your mother never told you the truth. I guess they had that in common. But I had no idea where Daphne was or that she needed me until you two showed up on my doorstep.”

  The room fills up with silence as I try to process everything Tess has told me—Tess, my sister, not Tess my aunt.

  My mother’s abject hatred of teen mothers takes on a new light. Of course, she abhorred teen moms. Just like she hated the eyes she had been given by the Filipino father who pulled a disappearing act when my mother was young. Of course, she would raise Daphne as her own daughter, rather than admit to anybody that she was a grandmother. I despised Lady for what she did to Tess.

  No wonder I’d felt so okay with it in the hospital when Galen told me she was dead. And I don’t know the circumstances of me picking Galen over a well-pedigreed guy Lady would have approved of, but I’m more glad than ever that I did.

  Glad and flustered. My mother is gone, but the older sister she left behind is sitting right in front of me. And there is no amount of Southern graciousness that can make up for me growing up in the lap of luxury while my kind and charitable sister was left in the care of an alcoholic grandmother, only to have her baby snatched from her when she was at her most vulnerable.

  “I grew up Christian, but I tell you what,” Tess says into my helpless silence. “I’m still working on forgiving our mother. She left, and she never looked back—not even to acknowledge me to the daughter she had after me. One she didn’t saddle with some stupid royalty name. You know, Grandma’s name was Queenie, and my full name is Countess. Countess—who names their kid that?”

  Tess lets out a bitter chuff. “I would’ve killed to have a simple name like Stephanie growing up. And the whole situation with pretending to everyone else that my grandmother was really my mother just messed me up big time. I felt so abandoned, the first guy who came along and showed me any kind of attention—bam, I did the same thing Lady and Queenie did. I don’t regret Daphne. I could never regret Daphne. But it’s been fifteen years since her birth, and I still don’t really trust myself to date.”

  “I hate that they did that to you,” I say. Tears brim in my eyes, but I refuse to let them fall. This isn’t about me. This is about Tess. “And I’m so sorry that I made you relive all those terrible memories just because I lost mine.”

  “None of this is your fault.” Tess swipes a dismissive hand through the air. “I’m fine now. I turned out just fine.”

  I’m not one to contradict someone, especially after hearing a story like that. But the way Tess swats away my apology makes me wonder if “I’m fine” is the same kind of cover story my mother would use to explain her deteriorating state to all the people she refused to tell she had terminal cancer.

  “I love Daphne, and I love you for bringing her back to me,” Tess assures me with a brave smile. “I’ll relive whatever painful memories I have to in order to help you get better. Your recovery—that’s the only thing that matters. The rest is just history.”

  An incredibly sad history.

  Still, a happy wave of realization washes over me. An older sister! I have an older sister who is everything my mother wasn’t. Open, friendly, and unconditionally loving. As sad as the story is, Tess feels like another unexpected dream come true.

  “I’m so happy to have you as a sister, and even happier that you and Daphne were reunited,” I tell her, sincerely meaning it. “And of course, the offer to stay here with us is still open.”

  Tess’s face darkens.

  And I rush to tell her, “I realize how that must sound after missing out on the first twelve years of your daughter’s life because of my mother’s—our mother’s—duplicity. But please know, I would never split you up again. It’s just that we have so much room here. I’d love getting to know you all over again. And maybe it would help with all this memory stuff.”

  “I’d like that too.” The dark cloud clears from Tess’s face. “You were a huge help to me before your accident. And I’m still trying to figure out how I’m going to manage shared custody with Daphne’s birth father without you to ferry her between us in my car. I’m still not talking to him, no matter what.”

  I cringe inside, knowing I must have been driving Daphne around on a lapsed license. And wow, it sounds like Tess’s “I’m fine” motto doesn’t extend
anywhere near her ex.

  “But, here’s the thing, Steph,” she continues before I can find a tasteful way to broach the subject of my not-so-legit license and Daphne’s birth father. “You never said anything about having a husband during the three years we spent getting to know each other. I mean, not one word. And I know we’re a family of secret keepers, but you worked for me, let me pay you a piddly minimum wage under the table, and lived in this tiny box of an apartment. I assumed you were poor after your father died—Daphne told me he owed creditors a lot more money than anyone thought when he died. But now, you’re suddenly living in a huge house in some neighborhood I’ve never even heard of before today because it’s that far above my pay grade?”

  She screws up her face. “Are you sure about this guy?

  “No,” I admit, letting my tone go as frank as hers. “But I’m also not sure why I would leave him in the first place. I mean, he bought this entire neighborhood for me and a future he hoped we’d have together after we patched things up. He started the Amy Fairgood Foundation because I brought it up, once. And he’s made sure you could run the shelter without having to worry about money for a while. He’s basically perfect.”

  “I mean, yeah, it looks that way. Sure. But…” Tess scans the room with an uncertain look. “Doesn’t all of this feel too good to be true?”

  Yes, actually. Yes, it does all feel too good to be true. Isn’t that why I keep on pinching myself? An unsettled feeling turns over my stomach. But I don’t want Tess to worry about me any more than she already is, so I cover it with a smile.

  “I tell you what,” I say, steering the conversation back to the original subject. “Let’s table the offer for you guys to move in until I get my memories back. That way we’ll know for sure if this place is a good fit. Deal?”

  “Um…I still wish you would just come and live with me. It feels so crazy to leave you here with some guy I didn’t meet in person until you were in a medically induced coma.”