Not a Reunion

Chapter 15

Thea

In the midst of me stressing about what the next part of my life would look like is a man who is acting starstrucked right now.

Mason's eyes bulged out of his when I told him that the three little kids sitting at the counter are, in fact, my siblings. Mason cannot believe it because he hasn't been here in the longest time. He hadn't contacted me in the last six years to follow up about my life.

He doesn't know about my life anymore, and the realization of it dawns on the both of us. We are both surprised, and while it hurts me to think about it, Mason takes a different approach. There is bewilderment in his eyes as he turns around in his spot and starts to head toward the counter.

I'm whisking the eggs as I watch him stand in front of my youngest brother, Thomas. He studies him, trying to figure out how much he had missed and what the (obvious) explanation could be. As he stares at my brother, the little kid with light hair starts to grow scared, his eyes starting to water. Thomas isn't used to a man being in the house—one that was staring at him, nonetheless.

"Um," Thomas says, his eyes glancing at me before going back to Mason. "Why are you staring at me?"

My brother sounded so small, so unlike himself, that it made me let out a humorous smile. Mason pulls his forearm off the counter that he was leaning on and turns to me. He places a hand behind his head, his eyes still holding bewilderment as he shifts his attention to me.

He turns around to look at Thomas for a second and says, "Sorry."

My younger brother doesn't say anything, and Mason comes back to me. His eyes are questioning as he walks up to me. "Thea, I don't understand," he asks me in a low voice.

I give him a little look before turning back to my eggs. He walks closer to me, and once I'm sure the kids behind me cannot hear, I say, "My mom got pregnant before, you know, before my dad passed away."

"Oh, yeah," Mason says, the obvious piece of the puzzle finally falling into place. He catches my eyes, his ones suddenly sad rather than the bewildered ones from earlier, as he says, "So your dad didn't get to? No, yeah, he didn't get to see him."

"I know," I whisper, and then shake my head away from the direction this conversation was heading. "He had known my mom was pregnant, though, so he knew about him."

"And yet he didn't get a chance to see him," Mason says softly, then clears his throat as he has to get the sudden emotions away. He then says, "Your mom must have been going through a lot, losing the love of her life and being pregnant at the same time."

"Yeah," I whisper, and then say, "But hey! My mom did it. Look, where is she now."

Look where she is now.

That sentence didn't go well together because my mom is a woman who drinks now. A woman was passed out on the porch when I walked down here. My sentence brings sadness all over my body.

Mason doesn't say anything about it; he ignores the situation as if I hadn't noticed it at all. He gives me a curt nod and says, "Okay. Do you need help cooking breakfast?"

"No," I answer, and then look back at my shoulder at the kids who looked like they needed food as soon as possible. I look back at Mason, at the lock of hair that falls into his eyes, and say, "If you could get the orange juice and set up the table for me?"

"Yes, of course," Mason says immediately, and he doesn't wait a moment before he moves on to the cupboards beside me. He grabs the colorful cups and then sets them on top of the counter.

"I'll get it!" I hear the shout that was Natalie's as she hops off the stool and heads toward the fridge. Mason dodges her on the way, and I hear a chuckle as he watches the girl grab the juice out of the fridge. "Wow, you've gotten to be such an amazing girl, Nat."