EPILOGUE

SADIE

Eight years later

Christmas break had become my new favorite time of year. As I waited at the door for Birdie to arrive home from college for the holidays, I could hardly stand it. I’d missed her so much.

Over the years, Birdie had become like a best friend. Our relationship was different from a typical mother-daughter one. It was born out of a conscious choice and desire to be in each other’s lives. We weren’t stuck together by blood but rather by some unnamed magical source that felt even stronger.

Blood. That word immediately reminded me of one of the hardest days of my life, the day we’d told Birdie the truth. Sebastian and I had decided that when she turned sixteen, we would tell her about the egg donation. A few months after her birthday, we sat her down with the envelope and told her the story, not only about the donation but about all the circumstances that led me into their lives and finally about the possibility that I could be her biological mother.

She’d sat there in silence as we laid it all out. I remember thinking she must have been in total shock because out of everything she could’ve said, the first question out of her mouth was, “You pretended to be the dog trainer?”

When the reality had started to set in, it was hard. That was certainly an intense and emotional day, one I’d never forget for as long as I lived. Her emotions ran the gamut from shock to confusion to sadness to eventually—understanding. It took about a full year for things to feel normal again after that, though. But eventually, they did. And if anything, telling her made our relationship stronger. Ultimately, as crazy as our story was, all the pieces of it were still bound together tightly by love.

After the revelation, it had taken her almost that full year as well to come to a decision on whether she wanted to definitively find out the results of the DNA test. We decided that if she wanted to, we would get a traditional blood test just to be sure of the accuracy. Birdie ultimately came to the conclusion, however, that knowing whether we were related by blood wouldn’t change how much she loved me. She also believed that Amanda might not have wanted her to find out. So she felt it best to continue not knowing. Sebastian and I fully respected her decision, and once she made it, a sense of relief came over our household. We were able to finally move on.

Sebastian, Birdie, and I ended up taking the infamous envelope that had been stashed away in Birdie’s room and burning it outside.

And that was that.

Would a part of me always wonder? Sure. But in the end, it didn’t change anything. And that was what was important.

Ironically, after all these years, letters had become a part of our relationship again. Writing to me was Birdie’s favorite way to keep in touch while away at school. She said it was sort of like journaling—the only difference was that she’d share her thoughts and feelings with me rather than keeping them private. It made me so happy that she considered me not only a mother figure but a friend. I looked forward to every single one of her letters.

My son came up behind me, startling me out of my thoughts.

“What are you wearing on your head, Mommy?”

I pulled him toward me as I continued looking out the window. “Oh . . . this is my special crown. Your sister gave it to me a long time ago.”

“It looks too small for you.”

I laughed. “Is that your way of telling me you want to wear it?”

Seb wrinkled his adorable little face like he’d just smelled bad fish. “No! Crowns are for girls.”

“Actually, I think anyone can wear a crown.” I leaned in and rubbed my nose against his. “But I’m glad you don’t want to wear mine, because it’s my most favorite piece of jewelry I own.”

Seb Junior was born six years ago as a result of artificial insemination with one of my stored eggs after Sebastian and I had tried unsuccessfully for a couple of years to conceive naturally. Like his sister, Seb had blond hair and Sebastian’s face.

“She’s not here yet?” I heard my husband say from behind.

“No. Her car must have gotten stuck in traffic.”

Sebastian placed his hand on the small of my back. “God. I keep thinking that Marmaduke is going to be so excited to see her, and then I remember he’s gone.”

A tear started to stream down my cheek at the thought of that.

Our precious dog passed away from lymphoma earlier this year, right after Birdie went away for her first semester at Stanford. That day—having to call her and tell her Marmaduke was gone—was the second-hardest day of my life.

We’d gotten his dog tag made into a necklace for Birdie as a Christmas gift. We wanted her to always have something to remember him by, since their relationship was so special.

“There she is!” Seb Junior proclaimed excitedly when he noticed Birdie’s Uber pull up.

Sebastian ran to the door. My son and I scurried behind him. It was like a race.

Birdie stepped out of the vehicle. Just the mere sight of her put a huge smile on my face. Recently she’d developed a style that was very bohemian chic. Her long blonde hair was tied into a side braid, and she had on a flowy skirt that hung to the ground. But it was what was on top of her head that made me well up. I covered my mouth, feeling emotional. My Birdie had her crown on top of her head, too. I couldn’t believe it. Though I probably shouldn’t have been so surprised. We’d somehow always been on the same page, right from the very start.

Birdie ran up the steps and into Sebastian’s waiting arms.

He hugged her tightly. “My baby girl is home.”

“I’m so freaking glad to be home.” She moved down to rustle her little brother’s hair. “Hey, squirt. Thank you for holding down the fort for me.”

When she stood up, she wrapped her arms around me. “Smommy! You have yours on, too! I missed you so much.”

“Smommy” was the name she’d given me shortly after Sebastian and I got married. It was short for Sadie-Mommy. Honestly, it was perfect for us. I wasn’t her actual mommy. I was her Sadie-Mommy.

She looked around, and then I saw the tears form in her eyes when the realization hit that our big lug of a dog wouldn’t be running to greet her. It was the first time since she was ten that she was walking into this house without him.

“I can’t believe he’s gone.”

I wiped my eyes. “I know, honey.”

“It’s literally the only reason I didn’t want to come home.”

Sebastian rubbed her back. “He was like your soul mate. He’ll always be with you, Birdie.”

“Can we go to the graveyard tomorrow?”

“Of course,” I said. “We were planning to do that at some point during your break.”

She shook her head. “Okay. Happy thoughts. Happy thoughts.” She turned to me. “I’m starving.”

“Well, I just happened to make your favorite kale salad, and Dad brought a tray of Birdie’s Pasta Bolognese home from the restaurant today.”

She pumped her fist. “Hell yeah.”

The four of us ventured into the dining room, where I’d already had the table set.

“Will Magdalene be stopping by?” Birdie asked. “I was hoping to see her.”

“She’ll be visiting tomorrow for Christmas Eve to say hello.”