A Little Less than Famous (39 page)

             
“He didn’t, not at first,” Olivia said. “He knew your mom was pregnant and he knew had a kid that was about twenty-three years old but that’s about it. It wasn’t until I found you that I let him know. He and my husband belong to the same golf club.”

             
“And?” I said. My voice was getting higher by the minute.

             
“He’d like to talk to you. I gave him your email address but I told him to wait. I figured you had some bad feelings toward him and I wanted to talk to you first. I didn’t realize you didn’t know…” she trailed off, looking, for the first time that afternoon, very uncomfortable.

             
“It’s fine,” I said, wrapping my arms around myself and taking a deep breath. “I mean, you didn’t know. My mom was so good at lying.” I paused. “Brendon Cambridge. It sounds so high class.”

             
Olivia rolled her eyes at that. “Well, it would be. Brendon’s dad was a banker in town; he was the richest man until your grandpa opened his own firm and earned some money of his own. So of course, Brendon was one of the most popular kids in high school. But then, out of high school, he got into a bit of trouble, nothing major. Just got sloppy after games-he played baseball-and got involved with girls. Everyone was afraid of him losing his baseball scholarship. But something about your mother caught his eye and suddenly the two of them were the talk to the town. Corinna Evans and Brendon Cambridge.”

             
“How far apart were they?” I asked. “In age, I mean.”

             
“Four years. Your mom was fifteen and he was nineteen. Oh but things like that didn’t matter, not when you were an Evans or a Cambridge. People were excited about that and people were beginning to notice your mom,” Olivia explained.

             
Four years. It sounded so large but it really wasn’t. Jake was twenty-seven, four years older than me. It just seemed so much different with a fifteen year old. “Then what happened?”

             
“Well, your mom got pregnant,” Olivia said, and she started to look a bit embarrassed. “And everyone was so angry. Teen pregnancy…we just pretended it didn’t exist, and especially not to
us.
I was…I was extremely harsh on Corinna. So was John. But we were going to handle it. We even talked about arranging for a wedding so that Brendon and Corinna would be married.”

             
“But she left,” I filled in.

             
“She did,” Olivia agreed. “One day, she was just gone. She said she’d be
back;
she went to…oh, I don’t know, the grocery store or something. And she never came back. We kept waiting for her to come back but she didn’t.”

             
That was a familiar feeling. “And my dad?”

             
Olivia wasn’t looking at either one of us; she looked as if she was back in 1990 instead of here in 2012. “Brendon was upset. He went from thinking he had a baseball career, a soon to be wife and a future child,” she went on. “Everyone was so worried he was going to give up baseball. No one sat there and thought about Brendon himself; they were just worried about his batting average.”

             
“So what happened?”

             
Olivia smiled, wryly, turning back to us. “Well, his batting average did just fine. He went on to play some Triple A for a few years after college before he hurt his knee. Could’ve played in the majors but he got hurt. That was sad.” Olivia’s accent was amazing. It was definitely Southern but it had a touch of something else and I was fascinated by it. I was fascinated by the story. “He came home, started teaching high school English and married a nice girl and had a couple of kids.”

             
“Kids?” I asked, feeling a little apprehensive and excited. “As in…siblings?”

             
“Oh yes!” Olivia said. “Two girls, Mackenzie and Madison Cambridge. They would be about…ten and seven, I think.”

             
“Oh my god, I have sisters,” I said, feeling like I was going to laugh. “They have M names too.”

             
“I know,” Olivia said, a smile on her face. She seemed to look relieved at the fact that I wasn’t purple or collapsing on boxes. “I thought that was pretty silly.”

             
“He wants to talk to me?” I asked, back to my hesitation.

             
“Yes,” Olivia said. “He’s been wondering about you for almost twenty years. I could let him know that you’d like to talk. Maybe he could send an email your way.”

             
I looked up at Luke, whose face was a mask. I felt sort of bad feeling this sort of excitement about my biological dad. Luke was my dad, he was the one who raised me and he was the one who was there for me for my entire life, up and downs. "Well..."

             
"Go for it, McKinley," Luke said.

             
"But Luke..." I protested. "I just...you're my dad."

             
"Of course I am," he said, easily, though his eyes did show a little bit of worry. "But you should get to know your dad."

             
"I just don't know anything about him. I don't know how I feel about it," I said, wringing my hands. I pulled out my phone and started typing out a text to Jake before I realized what I was doing. I stared it in horror and then shoved the phone back in my pocket.

             
"I think you should," Luke said.

             
"I'll let him know," Olivia said. "And you can decide from there."

             
"Okay," I agreed, feeling apprehensive. I remembered my first email from Olivia, my grandmother and how much we had talked since then. Now she was sitting in front of me and
I
had the whole weekend to try and get to know her.
I
had already learned so much. Now I had the opportunity to get to know Brendon Cambridge. It was a crazy, daunting feeling and I had no idea what I was getting myself into.

             
"So, I'm only here for the weekend and I want to spend as much time with you as possible while I'm here," Olivia said, changing the subject.

             
"Oh, sure, definitely," I said, nodding.

             
"I was thinking maybe we could do a little shopping tomorrow and then maybe have lunch?" she asked.

             
"Sounds good to me, I have all weekend off," I replied, taking off my apron and tossing it in the bin.

             
"Perfect," Olivia said, picking her purse up to pay.
I
waved her off; the least
I
could do was cover her lunch. "I'm having dinner with my friend tonight but I will see you tomorrow."

             
I nodded and she started to get up. I looked down at the photo album, still open in front of me. "Wait, don't forget your pictures."

             
"Oh, honey, those are for you," she said, smiling, waving her hand at me. "I want you to have some pictures of your family."

             
I looked at it and then back up. "Thank you," I said, feeling touched. I went from having absolutely no knowledge, no pictures of my family to having a whole book of them. "I'll see you tomorrow." She waved good-bye and turned and walked out of the diner.

             
"McKinley?" Luke asked.

             
I plastered one of my fake smiles on my face and turned to him. "I'm fine."

             
"Okay," he said, sounding unsure. "You're off so you're more than welcome to go upstairs."

             
I nodded, smiling, smiling and turned to walk upstairs. I waited until no one could see me anymore and then ran up the stairs and into my room. I pulled my phone out of my pocket and texted Amanda.
My dad is alive.
I hadn't heard from her since she had walked out of my room, but maybe my dad would bring her back like my mom had.

*
             
*
             
*
             
*
             
*
             
*

             
I woke up the next morning, bright and early, even though
I
had the entire weekend off and I could actually sleep in. I yawned, stretched and glanced over at my phone, which was blinking. I reached for it, and opened the text message.

             
What are you talking about? Call me ASAP.

             
I felt a flush of relief at the sight of the text. More and more, I had lost my confidence in my friendship with Amanda. For so long, I had always expected her to be there, no matter what I did or how I acted. I took for granted that friendship was about give and take. I had pissed off Amanda twice in less than a year (and let's face it, probably more than that) and both times, she had gone storming out, only to be brought back out due to crisis. Amanda was the only true, real friend I had ever had. I hit the call button and pressed the phone to my ear.

             
"What happened?" Amanda screeched in my ear. "What are you talking about?"

             
I tried to sound as calm as possible. "Yeah, so, do you remember how my mom told me for three years that my dad had died when I was two? Yeah, totally not dead. Apparently my father, Brendon Cambridge, is alive and well, still living in Raleigh, North Carolina."

             
There was a long pause as Amanda let that sink in. "Are you serious, McKinley?"

             
I ran my hand through my tangled hair and sighed. "Yeah, completely serious. Can you believe that?"

             
"Yes...and no, at the same time," she admitted. "I can't believe that after all these years, you found out he is alive but I also can believe that your mom would lie to you about something like that. She wasn't known for her truth telling."

             
I contemplated for a moment about telling Amanda about my mom trying to get in contact with me before I had shown up on magazines across the country but decided not to. That was something that could be brought up at a later date. I was still unsure myself of how to process that kind of information. "I know. Olivia felt so bad; she had no idea that my mom had lied to me, of course. I swear, I thought she was going to cry for a moment."

             
"So what happens now?" Amanda asked. "And, shit, I feel like a jerk. I forgot your grandma was coming. How was that?"

             
"Well, Olivia is nice. It's a little weird," I admitted. "But so far, it has been okay. She brought me a photo album of pictures of my mom and my uncle, James, when they were younger and then all these pictures of my family. That's how my dad came up. There was a picture of him and my mom in there. It was insane! And then she started bringing up his wife and his daughters..."

             
"Oh my god, McKinley, do you have sisters?" Amanda interrupted.

             
I laughed. "Amanda, focus. And yeah, I have sisters. Mackenzie and Madison."

             
"You are so lying; their names seriously don't start with M like yours," she said, sounding super amused.

             
"I'm not! How is it I go nearly twenty years with no family and suddenly, I have a grandmother and an uncle and a dad and sisters?" I asked, pressing my hand to my forehead. That overwhelmed feeling was coming back and strongly.