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Hank and Ty proudly present me with a picture of them drawing all over my face as I’m passed out on their couch, making me laugh, long and hard.

“Ford, what’s happening?” I whisper again, watching the lone table fill with pictures as the rest fill with bodies. Laughter bubbles up as people gather. He wraps an arm around my shoulders and squeezes as yet another unrecognizable vehicle arrives. When Merritt, Joel, and Blue get out, tears fall straight down my face. I can barely speak. “Ford?”

He looks at me, eyes so bright they’re almost golden. Just like him. “Scotty,” he says, “you’ve changed the life of every single person here. You’ve made their lives better by simply existing on this planet. By growing up in a trailer. By getting in bar fights and having a mouth of a viper.” He dusts a kiss on my lips. “By having a baby and giving him away. You’re selfless and you have the biggest heart ever made. You denying it doesn’t make it any less true.”

“Scotty?” Merritt says with a warm smile as she approaches. “Hope it’s okay we’re here.” She gestures to the casserole dish in her husband’s hands. “We brought carrots.”

I sniff and wipe my eyes, unable to stop looking at Blue. Other than when I held him as a baby, I’ve never seen him so close. He has freckles. My nose. “I’m very happy you’re here.”

Ford’s hand squeezes mine.

“Sorry,” I sniff. “I’m all emotional. Joel.” I smile at Blue’s dad. “It’s good to see you again. Happy Thanksgiving.”

“Scotty.” He shakes Ford’s hand as they exchange introductions.

My eyes stay on Blue.

Merritt clears her throat. “Blue, this is your birth mom. Scotty.”

He and I look at each other like we’re newly discovered life-forms. A small smile tugs at his lips. “Hey.”

“Hi,” I say, clearing my throat. “And this is your”—I look at Ford—“sperm donor. Ford Callahan.” Ford chuckles as Blue’s eyes double in size. “I named you after his eyes and his last name. I’m creative like that.” I laugh awkwardly.

He and Ford look at each other; Ford shakes his hand. “Blue.”

Blue studies him, and I wonder if he’s seeing the same pieces of himself I do.

“I didn’t know how to be a mom,” I blurt, desperate to explain myself in the silence. Like if I don’t tell him he’ll slip through my fingers like sand in the wind. I’m watching Blue intensely enough to notice his eyes narrowjustslightly. “I didn’t want you to think you were a demon baby I had to get rid of or something. Or that you were unwanted. Or unloved. I picked your parents out because they didn’t look like serial killers or cult leaders.”

Blue’s lips twitch. “Yeah,” he says. “You did good. They raised me cult- and killer-free.”

I chuckle, relieved, and when I look at Ford, my own pride reflects in his eyes.We did good.

“Your friend asked us to bring a picture in a frame,” Merritt chimes in, almost unsure. “But I made you an album. Blue over the years.” She offers it to me. “If you’d like it.”

I take it in my hands, fresh surge of emotion swelling in me. “I’d love that.”

She and I look at each other, an unspoken bond of motherhood traveling between us. Her appreciation for the life I gave her, and my appreciation for the life she gave him. The one I was too young and broken to have ever given.

Wren appears, introduces herself, and looks at Blue. “I guess we’re kind of siblings.”

Blue’s taken aback but he also smiles. “I guess so.”

“Alright, people,” June shouts from the steps of the porch with her hands cupped around her mouth. “Let’s eat already!”

Blue and I exchange one last smile, then everyone moves toward June, forming lines at the food tables and filling the chairs. I stay behind, my whole world tripling in size by being in the presence of all these people.

Wren props the front door open and puts a record on—a Lindsey Stirling one I bought to surprise her—and flicks me a half smile.

My legs won’t budge, so I just watch. Every beautiful piece of it.

June bosses Ford and Camp around; they obediently listen to every word.

Blue sits next to Lyra and Wren; Lyra instantly makes them both laugh.

When every seat is nearly filled, a blue SUV parks at the street and nearly makes me collapse. In a bright floral skirt and yellow sweater: Glory.

I watch her until she’s next to me and I blink back tears. My mother has never once showed up for a holiday outside of the ones we had in that trailer before it all went to shit.