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“THANKS FOR MEETING ME.”
He slips into the booth across from me. Eyes identical to mine look back at me like a mirror.
“I’ve wanted to meet you for a long time,” I answer feeling tears prick my eyes.
“I’m sorry,” he looks down clenching a fist on the table, “This isn’t about you. But I—I had a fucked-up childhood.”
“I know. I’m sorry,” I simply say placing my hand over his. “Duke… I’d like to invite you and Shanna to spend Thanksgiving with me and Rog. I want us to be family… please give me a chance?”
He shakes his head, “Damn, you are incredible. I came here to ask your forgiveness and for you to give me a chance,” he smiles warmly at me and in that moment, I know everything is going to truly be all right.
“How’s Shanna?”
“Good. Mad as hell at me for being thick-headed. She went to visit Rog over at Sassy’s.”
“That must be hard on her. It’s her first trip back to Springdale since her father died, right?”
“It is. But it’s time. She realized that she still has family here. You and Rog.”
“Me?”
“Yup, she always wanted a sister. Shanna grew up a club princess and hated every second of it. She never had movie nights, slumber parties or prom dates. Get ready ‘cause I think she already has a spa day or some shit planned for you and Luce.”
“I can’t wait,” I grin feeling warmth spreading through me, “I already love her.”
“Good. I want you to be a part of our lives, Devon. Now, tell me everything, starting with your first birthday party.”
I sit back sipping my soda, the fizz settling warmly in my stomach, “Now that’s a story. My dad’s cousin got drunk and belted out the National Anthem instead of singing Happy Birthday complete with a belch at the end. Let’s just say the next year only half of the girls in my class showed up at my birthday party…”
“Your adoptive family is large?”
“No—not really. Although, their personalities are huge. My mom almost decked my dad when he came home with a new sportscar without telling her. They’re both coming for the holidays. They want to meet Rog and well—Creed.”
“They cool with you being a pledge.”
“What? I’m not a pledge.”
“I know. You’re already in.” He slips something out of the inside corner of his jacket and slides it across the table.
My hands tentatively reach for the patch. It’s old and worn and smells like old cigars. It reads “CREED PREZ.”
“It was his.”
“Our father’s?”
He nods, “I wanted you to have it. I’m sorry Dev. I’ve read all his old journals and went through his papers when he died. There’s no indication that Dee ever told him. I think she might’ve been using your existence for leverage against him if she ever needed it. She died carrying the secret of you with her.”
“Until I showed up thirty years later.”
“That you did.”
“So, you must’ve been around ten when I was born?”
“Eleven. I think Dee told my Ma about you. Our old man was a stubborn son of a bitch and wouldn’t let her go. But the affair broke her. She eventually left, and I never heard from her again. I’ve tried finding her but haven’t had any luck so far.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. Our dad was just as guilty as Dee. But as Shanna pointed at—no one blamed him for the way it all went down. They blamed her.”