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“I can take care of myself, you know. I have been doing it alone my entire life.” Anger, and old habits, win.

He nods, palms turned up. “I know, Becca. I know. But maybe you don’t have to go it alone all the time anymore. We’re family. Let me take some of the burden. I want to be here for you.”

Family. I’ve longed for it, for the sense of security the word triggered in me my entire life. I blink away the sting of tears. I will not cry. I will not cry. I will not cry.

I reach for the orange juice and fill my glass, look at him, and he shakes his head, reaching for the coffeepot instead. I drink, filling my mouth with the sweet and tangy juice so I can buy myself some time.

“Listen, this is probably too soon and too much. I know we only met twice before. But we—I,” he corrects himself. “I wasted too much time already. And I don’t want to waste another second of not having you as a part of my life.”

I drink another huge gulp, the liquid pushing at the knot in my throat.

“I was in the army for nearly ten years. Met someone a few months after they discharged me. We’ve been married for nine years now.”

I set the glass down with shaky fingers.

“Her name is Linda.”

I find my voice. “Does she—does she know about me?”

His face relaxes, his shoulders release the tension and drop. “Yes”—he smiles—“and she wants to meet you.”

“She does?”

“Yes, she does. And there’s more.”

“More?” I’m reduced to parroting everything he says. I have no words of my own. I know what’s coming, I’m not sure I’m ready to hear it.

“We have two kids.” His voice drops to almost a whisper.

A small gasp leaves my lips. The knot returns to my throat and grows into a boulder.

“You have two siblings, Becca. A brother and a sister.” He leans into the table. “And they can’t wait to meet you.” He says this with so much love, with such a tenderness. It’s too much. I don’t know how to react or what to say.

“Becca? Stay with me, please.” My gaze finds his, and I see fear. Fear of rejection. Fear that I will walk away.

I speak around the boulder, and my voice cracks. “They want to meet me?”

“They can’t wait to meet you. They wanted to come with me today, but I want to give you the choice of how and when.”

Give me a choice? Dear God. I have a brother and a sister. Something warm spreads in my chest and melts the boulder away.

“I thought maybe you could come over to our home. Have lunch, hang out and get to know your family?”

“My family?” I repeat.

“Yes, your family. They—we are your family. We want you.”

“Here we go. I got you all my favorites.” Michael Bear is back with an enormous tray, and I’m thankful for the reprieve. An older lady follows him and sets down a tray-holder. He places the tray on it and starts placing plates of food on the table. There’s enough food to feed ten people.

“Wow. That’s too much food.” My mouth waters at the sight and heavenly scents of waffles covered in fresh fruit, pancakes drizzling with syrup, omelets bursting with cheese, bacon, sausages, home fries. There’s French toast and whipped cream, and even breakfast burritos.

“Well, whatever you don’t eat, we pack up, and you can take back with you. I know they don’t have food this good at Riggins.” Bear winks.

“I don't even know what to eat.” I want to eat everything.

“Dig in. And this is Mariah. She’ll be taking care of you. If you need anything, she’s your woman.” And with that, he’s gone before I can even say thanks.

My father looks at me, I think he’s also grateful for the reprieve.