42

Maggie eyed the pink envelope with enough trepidation to sink a small canoe. She hadn’t gotten anything from that address in probably eleven years. But she wasn’t imagining it. Maya’s family had sent her something.

With shaky hands, she opened the envelope and withdrew a card that made Maggie gasp. It was an invitation. To Maya’s Sweet Sixteen party.

She gazed in wonder at the five-by-seven photograph of her daughter, so beautiful, so amazingly grown up. Maya was laughing in the picture, holding a little pug in her arms, and it made Maggie ridiculously happy to see her daughter had the same taste in dogs as she did. Her hair…her hair was just as large and unruly as Maggie’s but somehow Maya didn’t look like a cave woman.

She owns that hair, Maggie thought. She was looking at a young woman who was confident and filled with optimism for her future.

The party was to be held three weeks from now at a hotel in Monterey. The Martins were a well-to-do family. Ted Martin sold insurance. Tess was a homemaker, last Maggie heard. She wondered if Ted and Tess knew that Maggie had been invited. The printing on the envelope had to be Maya’s because Tess had tight, small handwriting.

When she noticed another piece of paper in the envelope—a letter—she got confirmation the invitation came from Maya.


Hi Maggie,

I’m your biological daughter, Maya, and I hope you will come to my party. I told my mom and dad that was what I wanted for my birthday and they FINALLY agreed.

For a long time I thought you didn’t want anything to do with me because well I’m going to throw my parents under the bus and tell you it’s their fault. That’s what they told me which I found out recently was a lie. My mom finally confessed that she was the one who ghosted YOU. Which is totally messed up. Even though I love her a lot I’m so mad at her. But at least she let me invite you to the party.

If you don’t want to see me, that’s okay. I get it. You have a life and so do I. I just thought if you wanted to I don’t know see what I’m like, I think that would be cool. Here’s my phone number in case you want to text or something.

Your daughter,

Maya

(555) 727-1991


Laughing and crying, Maggie read the letter three times. The teacher in her wanted to correct the grammar and punctuation and yet the mistakes were part of what made the letter so precious.

Perhaps the universe had decided she needed something nice to happen, in light of all the shit that went down with Spencer. Was that a fair trade? Maybe. Judging from the letter, Maya was a free spirit with strong will and a mind of her—

The doorbell rang just as her phone vibrated with a text from Jade. Open the door.

Eager to share the letter with her best friend, Maggie hurried to the door only to find it wasn’t Jade.

It was Spencer.