Isabel's POV:
"Isabel, sweetheart, we need to talk." Moma Sat me down on the sofa, holding both my hands close to her heart. I tilted my head in confusion. In my entire life, I've never seen the look of worry on her face as she glanced over at Daddy. I nodded, willing her to continue.
"Love, you're not our child." Daddy let out a sigh as he looked down, almost ashamed.
I pulled my hands from my mother, looking at both of them with my lips parted. I tried to think of something I could say at a moment like this. I was adopted? How can that be? I mean, I don't look anything like my parents. I could understand that. But, they raised me for the entirety of my life. Since I was just a wee little thing fresh out of my Moma's belly. Well, the woman I really belong to...
."I want to meet them." I stood up. "I want to meet my real family."
Moma looked up at me, "That's why we're telling you, sweet. They want to meet you, too." She stood up and I saw the hurt she was trying to hide. "Please, Isabel. Just know that we didn't keep it from you for our own enjoyment. We kept it from you for your own good. At the time, you were just a baby. You wouldn't have understood that I wasn't your birth mother. We just never got to it. We figured it you break your little heart."
I nodded, and brought her into my embrace. No matter how long she kept this from me, I could never hate her. Hell, I couldn't even bring myself to dislike the woman. She was too nice, too kind.
Daddy stood and kissed my head. "You've got until tomorrow morning to get ready. Pack your bags. You might stay for a while. Just be prepared."
"Daddy, I am just meeting these people," I explained, "I can't just thrust myself into their lives. What if they reject me? I'll make an arse out of meself."
He shook his head. "They live in Mullingar. It's about 6 hours. You'll have to make the drive, alright? If anything happens, call me. I'll pick ye up myself."
***
I drove up the driveway of the rather large house, and parked beside a windowless banger. Damn ball of shite took up almost all the parking.
I got out of the car, fixing the shirt I had debated on putting on all this morning. I wore a tie-front button up shirt without sleeves, high-waisted tan shorts, strappy sandals, and my brown hair was thrown into a ponytail. Oh Lord, I look like I came out of an American magazine. It was almost too cold for these clothes.
Before I even got to the door, it opened. A woman, about as tall as me, with short blonde hair stood. She looked at me in pure shock, drinking in my appearance through a visual straw.
"Isabel?" She croaked, fresh tears forming in her round eyes. She looked so expectant. She wanted me to be her daughter. She wanted me in her life. She wanted me to be me.
I nodded, jogging over to her and falling into her embrace. The woman I've been deprived of my entire life was finally here, and she was crying into my shoulder. I rubbed her back, silently persuading myself not to cry.
"Please, don't cry..." I sniffed, burying my nose into the crook of her neck to hide my face. She whimpered softly as she pulled away, using the pads of her fingers to wipe away the smeared makeup.
"I'm so sorry...I just...I-I didn't expect you to come at all," she chuckled through the shedding tears, "And I didn't expect you to look so much like your brother."
I tilted my head to the side on silent question. Brother?
She laughed and took my hand. "Come inside. You've got people to meet. Your family awaits."
