You’d have to be donor-conceived to get it. Or adopted, Milo supposed. Or switched at birth or left on the doorstep of an orphanage. But how many of those people actually got the chance to drive to the airport and pick up their half sister? Not many, he would bet. It was surreal.
Hollis and her mother were due to arrive any minute, but Milo’s moms were not exactly rolling out the welcome mat. They were still arguing. This morning had been fine. The phone call with Hollis’s mom had been fine. But as soon as Suzanne hung up and broke the news to Frankie about the Donor Progeny Project, they’d been at each other. All the way to JFK in the cab, it was Frankie accusing Suzanne of betrayal and Suzanne accusing Frankie of self-absorption.
FRANKIE: You lied to me, Suzanne.
SUZANNE: I didn’t lie to you, Frankie. I just didn’t tell you.
FRANKIE: That’s a lie of omission.
SUZANNE: It wasn’t a lie of omission. The information was for Milo. It didn’t apply to you. Not everything applies to you.
FRANKIE: You think the possibility of our son finding his sperm donor and genetic half siblings doesn’t apply to me?
SUZANNE: I didn’t say that. I said the information didn’t apply to you at the time I gave it to Milo. It was his choice whether or not to use it. And now that he’s chosen to use it, I’m telling you.
FRANKIE: Well, thank you for keeping me in the loop like I’m actually a member of this family.
SUZANNE: Are you serious?
Here they were at the baggage claim, still going strong. Milo did his best to mediate. “Drop it,” he said. And, “Point made.” “What’s done is done.” “We all have the same information now.” “We’re in this together.” “You’re my family.” And finally, “Shut up. I think that’s them.”
Frankie got in one last dig: “Great time for houseguests.”
“Leigh lost her partner,” Suzanne hissed. “Hollis lost her mom. This is what people do.”
“I just don’t see the urgency. Couldn’t we have done this another time?”
“Super idea.” Suzanne smiled and waved across the room. “I’ll just send them home.”
There, coming down the escalator, were a girl and her mother. The girl was uneasy. You could see it in her eyebrows, which were thick and dark and scrunched together, and in the way she clutched her messenger bag to her chest like a security blanket. Her hair, on the other hand, looked thrilled to be here. It sprang out from under her black skullcap in all directions. Thick, dark, wild.
Milo knew that hair. He saw it every morning when he looked in the mirror.
“Suzanne?” the mother said, stepping off the escalator first. She was thin and pale, with a limp ponytail and tired eyes. “Frankie?”
“Leigh!”
Milo watched as his moms, one after the other, hugged Hollis’s mom.
“We’re so sorry about Pam,” Suzanne said.
“So sorry,” Frankie said, squeezing Leigh’s hand.
“Thank you.” Hollis’s mom nodded. Milo could see fine lines around her eyes, grooves on either side of her mouth. “There’s no place Pammy would rather be than here.”
Milo saw Hollis smirk.
“Mi,” Suzanne said gently, “you remember Leigh.”
“Of course.” Milo stepped forward. He stuck out his hand and they shook. In his peripheral vision, he saw Hollis smirk again. Or maybe it wasn’t a new smirk; maybe she’d never stopped.
“Hollis,” Suzanne said, holding out both arms like Maria von Trapp. “Welcome, sweetheart.”
“Welcome!” Frankie echoed joyously.
His moms were putting on a show, as if they hadn’t spent all afternoon fighting. As if this weren’t the most loaded family reunion ever.
“Thanks,” Hollis said. She didn’t move in for a hug. She just stood there at the bottom of the escalator, clutching her messenger bag.
“Hey,” Milo said, lifting his chin in greeting.
“Hey.” Hollis opened her mouth to yawn, revealing her pierced tongue. One of those silver barbell thingies. It matched the two in her ear.
Hollis’s look—the skullcap, the ripped jeans, the piercings—wasn’t strange for New York, but Milo wondered how it translated in Saint Paul, Minnesota. Was Hollis a fringe kid? A rebel? A freak?
“They look alike,” Hollis’s mom murmured to no one in particular, but Suzanne answered, “They certainly do.”
“The miracle of DNA,” Frankie said heartily. Then, placing a hand on Leigh’s arm, “Do you have any baggage?”
Hollis snorted. “We have baggage, all right.”
“Hollis.” Her mother looked pained, like Hollis was giving her a headache.
“What? It’s a double entendre.”
“We packed light,” Leigh said, patting the black roller suitcase beside her. “We’re all set.”
“Great.” Frankie’s smile was so wide and bright Milo almost couldn’t look at it.
“I’ll get us a cab,” Suzanne said. “Okay, hon?”
“Okay, hon.”
Milo watched his mothers exchange a look that said, We are not finished fighting, but as long as we have guests we will pretend, for decorum’s sake, that we are on our honeymoon.