The Mixtape by Brittainy C. Cherry

40

EMERY

Going into the conversation with my parents, I had one thing on my mind and one thing only—breaking generational curses.

“You’re joking, right?” Mama snapped in the same diner where she’d told me she was going to try to take my daughter from me. Only this time, Sammie sat beside me, holding my hand under the table, so we could squeeze each other’s hands whenever we needed a push of comfort. “You cannot think you can keep her. You are not the right fit to have that child.”

“I have been for five years, and I plan to be for the rest of my life,” I said, disagreeing.

“Samantha, tell your sister that she is wrong. You already spoke to us about this situation, and we agreed that what was best for your daughter is—”

“She’s not my daughter,” Sammie said, sure as day.

Mama’s mouth dropped open. “You are wrong. We had a plan. Your father and I were going to raise that little girl and give her a real shot at life, at a family.”

“She has a family,” I said. “I’m her family.”

“You’re a single mother; you could never be enough for that girl. You’ve never been enough. You run around with drug-addict musicians who sleep around with any- and everything. You think he’s going to look after you? Good luck. He’s going to throw you to the side like you’re nothing,” Mama huffed. Her words stung me, but only a little.

Because I knew no truths lived within them. “You have no clue who Oliver is, and you have no clue who I am. You don’t know who Samantha is, either, I’m sure.”

“Oh, shut your mouth, Emery Rose. I know who my daughter is.”

“What’s my favorite song, Mama?” Sammie asked quietly.

“Excuse me?”

“What’s my favorite song? What song did I listen to over and over again growing up? Who’s my favorite musician? What’s my favorite color? What did I want to be when I grew up? How do I like my eggs?”

“Samantha, I don’t see how this has anything to do with anything. Those are stupid facts that don’t matter at all,” Mama snapped. “Now, tell Emery that we are going to move forward with the custody case.”

“‘Heart Stamps,’ by Alex & Oliver—who are her favorite musicians. Her favorite color is teal during the summer and yellow in the winter, because she believes the dark days need some bright color. She wants to be a therapist to help people, and she likes her eggs scrambled with two slices of American cheese,” I said, because I knew my sister.

Sammie squeezed my hand.

I squeezed hers back.

“This is ridiculous!” Dad finally snapped, speaking up for the first time since we’d arrived at the restaurant. “I cannot believe I even wasted a second of my time going through this bullshit, anyway, Harper. This is all your fault to begin with.”

“No, I—”

“I should’ve never even given you another chance after you got knocked up by that asshole all those years ago. You should’ve gone ahead and aborted her anyway,” he said, gesturing toward me. “Instead I’ve been forced to deal with your mistakes.”

Wait, what?

Mama’s eyes teared up as she looked at her husband, stunned. “Theo. You promised you would never bring this up.”

“Well, obviously it needs to be stated. I’ve dealt with too much of your bullshit over these years. And now I’ve watched the same thing unfold with my daughter because of your flaws. Same mistakes, same story. And now, I bet the same shit happens to that little girl because this family is cursed.”

“What is he talking about?” Sammie asked.

“I’m talking about this family’s sins! The same thing that happened to you happened to your mother, which is why I’m so sick of watching this story unfold the same way. Yet somehow I ended up raising her bastard child.”

“Mama . . . ,” I started, but my words faded. What was he saying? I wasn’t his? My father wasn’t my father? How?

Mama wiped the tears from her cheeks as she tried to keep her composure. “I was young and went to a party. I made mistakes, and a boy took advantage of those mistakes. My father found out and kicked me out.”

Déjà vu.

We were living in a loop.

Everything Mama had gone through, she’d put Sammie through too. And if the generational curse stayed in place, if we didn’t change our future by speaking and healing from our past, we’d keep that loop going.

Everything was beginning to make sense. It made sense why my father never seemed to love me the way he loved Sammie. It made sense why they were so hard on us, so overly protective. Because they didn’t want what happened to them to happen to us.

Yet still, life happened. And there they were again, trying to control the outcome by taking Reese in as their own, so they’d have another shot at molding her into something they thought was right.

“We failed with you both, but we can do better with Reese. I knew it the moment I lay eyes on her,” Mama said, falling apart in the diner. “I can be better with her. I know how to fix her.”

“She’s not broken,” I said, shaking my head in disbelief. “She’s not yours to fix.”

“You have no clue what you’re doing,” Dad told me with coldness in his stare. “You don’t know how to be a parent.”

“Sure I do. I’ll just do the complete opposite of everything you’ve ever done to me.” I turned to my sister, feeling sick to my stomach as the revelations unfolded before me. “Are you ready to go?”

She nodded.

Mama huffed. “Really, Samantha? You’re going to choose her over your own parents?”

“She is my family, Mama. She’s the best family I’ve ever had,” Sammie confessed, squeezing my hand. We headed out of the restaurant and went back to my apartment. The whole ride over, Sammie kept holding my hand, and I was thankful for that. I needed the comfort.

I think she needed it too.

“Are you okay?” she asked me as we stood in the hallway in front of my door.

“Not now. But I will be. Everything makes a bit more sense now, that’s for sure. I always thought I wasn’t enough for them both, but truthfully, they were dealing with their own demons. It had nothing to do with me.” I smiled at her. “Or you. Parents can be broken, too, it turns out.”

I looked down toward Abigail’s apartment and nodded once. “Do you want to meet her? Reese? I’m going to be honest: I don’t know how we move forward with this. I don’t know where we go from this point with her.”

Sammie placed her hands over her heart and nodded. “I’d love to meet her, but only if you’re comfortable with it.”

I nodded and headed over to grab Reese. The moment we walked back to my apartment, I could see the nerves shooting through Sammie. They were running through me too.

“Mama, who is that?” Reese asked with narrowed eyes.

“That’s my sister, Reese. Her name is Sammie.”

Reese’s mouth dropped open. “You have a sister?”

“Yes, I do. And she’s a very strong person.”

Reese smiled at Sammie, who began to cry. Reese frowned at the sight, walked over to Sammie, and hugged her. “Don’t be sad. It’s okay,” she said, giving her comfort.

“Thank you, Reese,” Sammie said, bending down to meet her eye to eye. “Oh my gosh, you’re beautiful.”

“You’re beautiful too. You look like Mama. So, if you’re her sister, does that make you my aunt?”

Sammie looked up to me, and then back to Reese. “I think that does make me your aunt.”

“Oh great!” Reese’s eyes lit up once more, and she hugged Sammie again. “I always wanted an aunt.”