Wild Swans Read Online Free PDF Page A

but…”
    I’m fine , I want to say. But I can’t make the lie come out of my mouth. Not to Alex. He’s had a front-row seat to all my hurts and heartaches over the last fifteen years. He can tell when I’m lying.
    I pick up the photo album and flip a couple pages. “This is what I looked like the last time she saw me.”
    Alex glances down at the picture. It’s me as a toddler wearing a pair of jeans and a fuzzy orange sweater with a pumpkin on it. My brown curls are pulled into tiny pigtails, and I sit in Mama’s lap while she reads me The Poky Little Puppy . In the picture, she’s smiling down at me. A month later she was gone.
    â€œYou were real cute.” Alex pokes me. “Still are.” I don’t smile, and he puts a hand on my arm. “Screw her, Ivy.”
    â€œI know.” Claire’s been texting me the same thing since she found out, except she doesn’t say “screw.” You don’t owe that woman a fucking thing. She left you. Forgiveness isn’t really in Claire’s skill set. Since her dad walked out on her mom, Claire has refused to see him. He bought her a car when she turned eighteen, and she sent it back to the dealership. Abby, on the other hand, is the optimist. The peacemaker. Try to keep an open mind. Maybe she’ll surprise you.
    I throw myself backward, stretching out on the rumpled blue quilt. It’s easier to talk about my feelings without Alex looking at me. “I want her to hug me and say how sorry she is for leaving. That it wasn’t my fault. But if she were that kind of person, that kind of mothe r —”
    â€œShe wouldn’t have left in the first place.”
    â€œYep.” I sit up again and close the album with a crack. “I’m so mad at her. For leaving. For never once getting in touch. But what am I supposed to do? I can’t change what happened. I’ve just got to suck it up and make the best of things.”
    â€œDo you? Seems to me she’s the one ought to be walking on eggshells to make things easier on you, not the other way around.”
    â€œFrom what Granddad says, she’s not the type to walk on eggshells. More like smash them.” I let out a frustrated sigh. “It’s so pathetic! I just want her to like me! Since when I do care so much about what people think?”
    Alex runs a hand through his dark curls and laughs. “Since always?” He shakes his head. “She’s not some random person. She’s your mom. Of course you want her to like you. I just think you need to, like, manage your expectations.”
    â€œSo I shouldn’t have booked that mother-daughter spa day?” I raise my eyebrows. “Trust me, my expectations are set low. Way low. I mean, she never even sent me a birthday card.” My voice drops to a whisper, and I cover my face with my hand. “What did I do to make her hate me so much?”
    Alex yanks on my elbow, hauling my hand away from my face. Traitorous tears are gathering in my eyes. “You didn’t do anything. You were just a baby. Whatever her deal is, it’s with the Professor, not you. You know how he can be.”
    I pull away. I do know how he can be. The weight of his expectations is heavy, but that is no excuse for running out on your family. “Don’t you make excuses for her. Granddad—he’s a good person. A good father.”
    Alex puts his hands up. “Hey, you don’t have to convince me. He’s the closest thing I’ve ever had to a dad.”
    Alex’s father died in a car accident a few weeks before Erica left town. Marco and Luisa had just moved from Texas. Marco had gotten a job as an associate professor of math at the college. Once he got tenure and Alex got old enough for preschool, Luisa was going to open up her own bakery. Instead, her husband died, she became our housekeeper, and she and Alex moved into the carriage house.