(See the first chapter for disclaimer, notes, spoiler, etc.)

Chapter 2: "The Truth"

November 9, 2014

Trey clutched the steering wheel of his mother's car, his eyes darting between the rear view and side mirrors. "On your left," he heard her say softly and he nodded, holding the car steady. In the passenger seat, he saw her foot come down on a phantom brake and he sighed. As if driving with Mom wasn't the worst thing in the world, he had to drive her car: a pastel blue Fiat 500. He shuddered. It was the girliest car ever invented. Dad merely referred to it as "the Easter egg". "Trey, red light!"

"I saw it," he sighed, braking to a hard stop.

She glanced over, her sapphire eyes wide as she braced her hands on the dashboard. "It didn't look like you did."

"Mom-"

"You know what Poppop told me when he was teaching me to drive?"

His ears perked up at the mention of Pop. His real father. "What?" he asked.

"He told me to remember that every other driver is a bad driver."

He exhaled deeply and nodded. "'K."

They were silent for several moments before he heard her clear her throat. "I called Nana earlier."

"Oh yeah?" he asked, forcing himself to keep his eyes on the road. "What about?"

"Christmas. She and Colin are going to stay with us. I don't want them waking up in a hotel on Christmas morning."

He nodding, trying to keep the delighted grin off his face. Nan would be here for three weeks. He'd get to see her every day. "Wait. What about Uncle Sean and Aunt Tessa?"

"They're going to stay with Poppop and Alex. It's all worked out," she said. "It makes sense though. My grandparents came for Christmas every year. They always stayed at the house on Ocean Avenue with us. Nana would never let them stay at a hotel."

Her grandparents were his grandparents too. Another reality to become used to. He sighed as his head throbbed. "So, when's Nan coming?"

"Nana is coming December 20th." She glanced at him and he felt the suspicion in her gaze. She was the only one who pounced on him for referring to them as Nan and Pop now. But, he knew it was because she didn't know the truth. He could feel it living in him every day, a storm cloud that consumed him. She didn't look like she lived with it too. But, he knew that Nan and Pop knew the truth. He finally understood the shadow that clung to them. It was pain. "It'll be nice to have everyone here."

He nodded, swallowing hard. Nan's voice danced across the phone line when he called her yesterday. She sounded happy, maybe even excited. "I'm glad she's coming," he murmured, glancing over his shoulder as he changed lanes. It would be the first Christmas since finding out the truth. It would be the first Christmas he's ever spent with both of his parents. His real ones. He suddenly remembered last year's English Lit class. He now gets how much it sucked for Dr. Jekyll. It was hard living two lives: one with his real parents and one with the parents that raised him. More than that, it was exhausting. He wondered briefly what his own Mr. Hyde would be like.

"I am too. But, I just wish you had told me or Dad about it before you called her."

He sighed. "It worked out, right? I mean, Virgin Atlantic didn't mind changing the tickets."

"Yes. But, that's not the point." He was quiet, watching the streak of the white road lines. She sighed and he heard her say, "You know, I remember being sixteen and wanting to take charge of my life."

"Wait, what?" he asked, confused.

"But, you still need to include Dad and I in things. You can't just disregard us because you're graduating in the spring."

He turned to look at her. "Mom, I don't-"

"Trey, watch out!" He looked back in time to see the car in front of him slow down to make a right turn. He slammed on the brake, the wheels squealing against the road. They flew forward, the seat belts locking and keeping them in their seats. "OH! Are you alright?" she asked, her hand on his shoulder.

He nodded. "Fine," he said shortly, glancing up at the rear view mirror. At least it was early enough that there weren't any other cars on the road behind them.

"Ok." She exhaled deeply, pressing her hands to her heart. "Ok. Check your mirrors and let's go."

He sighed, hearing the panic in her voice. He remembered the car accident they were in years ago. He remembered how afraid she was to drive a car again after it. "Sorry," he murmured as he accelerated slowly. "About the car...and Nan."

"Oh, honey," she sighed, reaching out to affectionately squeeze the back of his neck, "it's ok. Just keep your eyes on the road. No matter what."

"Every other driver is a bad driver. Got it."

She smiled, gently rubbing the tense space between his shoulder blades. "As for Nana," she dropped her voice, like there was a danger of someone overhearing them, "I'm thrilled she's coming for Christmas." He couldn't look at her. He couldn't. Not yet. He slowed down, the click of the right turn signal filling the silence. "Nice job," she said softly as he turned into the parking lot of the strip mall.

"Thanks," he said quietly as he parked the car. He turned to his mother, exhaling deeply. "I don't disregard you and Dad. It's just...I mean, I just-" His voice cracked and he lowered his head, embarrassed.

She reached out, cupping his chin and gently turning his face back to her. She smiled warmly and he suddenly felt really shitty for doing this to her. Like, why was he doing any of this? They were supposed to go to England this Christmas. It was Nan's year. Now, he changed everything...and all because the idea of spending one holiday with his real parents kept him up at night. Mom and Dad thought the sleepless nights and exhaustion was because he was focused on senior year and his classes.

Mom and Dad.

His stomach clenched as he thought of them. The people who raised him. The people who joked with him. The people who had a dozen different nicknames for him. The people who loved him. "Honey, are you warm? You're sweating." He shook his head, looking into his mother's concerned eyes. "It's ok," she said, her voice soft. "We won't tell Dad about the car."

He could let her think that. That would let her continue to be the happy mother he'd known for his entire life. Except now he knew about his other mother. He nodded, vaguely watching as her hand fell away. "Thanks, Mom," he whispered.

Mom. Nan. Mom. Nan.

He coughed, choking back vomit as his head ached. "What was that?" she asked, mistaking his cough for an attempt to get her attention.

"So, you're thrilled?" he forced himself to ask, tasting bile.

"About Nana coming? Of course," she said, reaching into the backseat for her canvas bag and yoga mat. She looked down, suddenly bashful, and he leaned in, curious. "You don't know this, but Nana and Poppop used to throw a huge Christmas party every year." Years ago, he instantly realized. Back when Nan and Pop were married. "Nana would start planning it six months out and Poppop didn't spare any expense." He watched quietly as she turned back to him, her face soft and her eyes glazed over in remembrance. "The ballroom was always filled with Balsam Firs. It smelled like a forest. White lights would hang down in curtains from the ceiling. Presents spilled out from beneath the trees and a band would play carols all night long. But, the best part of the Christmas party was what always happened after."

"After?"

She nodded as her lips curled into a small smile. "It would be late when we got home. All the lights would be off, but the Christmas tree would be lit up. Nana would always say, 'I can't even look at the stairs yet. I need to sit. Just for a moment.' So, she would sit on the sofa and we'd follow her, even Poppop. The four of us would sit quietly with the glow of the Christmas tree lights around us. I remember watching the tree, snuggled between them with Uncle Sean." She sighed. "It was so peaceful. We were so happy."

He felt like a loser for being jealous of her. But, he was. He couldn't help it. He hadn't figured out how it changed, but the life she's remembering was supposed to be his. He doesn't know the people she's describing. Sure, Nan and Pop are friends now. He knows they write to each other. But, they're his parents now...and he knows nothing about them. He doesn't know what they were like back when they were married, but he's heard the whispers. He's not a moron. He can read between the lines. He knows their marriage wasn't always the greatest. But, still...they're his parents.

"I'm excited for you and Tommy to have a Christmas with both of them there," he heard her say and he nodded. Something flashed in her eyes but she smiled quickly and looked away. He instantly understood. It was the same look that Pop had when he asked him last night about Nan coming for Christmas. It has hope and sadness all at the same time. For Mom, they were her parents too. She hadn't spent the same Christmas with Nan and Pop since before he was born. He reached out to touch her arm, her hand, something so that she would know he got it. So that she would know she wasn't alone. But, she was already up and out of the car. "I'm late for class."

Another lost opportunity that slipped away from him. He was disgusted with himself that he kept missing them. "I'll wait for you at Peet's," he sighed.

"Do you need money?" He couldn't tell her that the thought of eating anything made him feel more sick. He shook his head as she leaned back into the car and stretched across to peck his cheek. "See you in an hour, honey."

"Later," he replied. He sat still for a long moment, watching the way her blonde ponytail bounced as she walked into the small yoga studio. She looked like all the other moms who were going to the class. She looked like his mom.

He knew different.

His heart pounded in his chest and his hands trembled. Darling boy, you'll never know how much I love you. He forced himself to exhale deeply as his vision swam. He felt as frozen as he did all those months ago, when Nan thought he was asleep and whispered her declaration to him. Suddenly, everything made sense. He couldn't explain it, but he knew the truth. He knew she was his mother and Pop was his father. It explained the way they watched him when they thought he wasn't looking. It explained the warm feeling in his chest when he played golf with Pop. It explained the thrill that coursed through him when Nan met him at the arrivals gate at Heathrow.

With them, he was home.

A sob rose in his throat and he leaned forward, resting his forehead on the steering wheel. His chest cracked open and he winced at the pressure. He was falling apart. He knew that. Maybe that's who his Mr. Hyde is: a tool of a kid who constantly felt torn between being sick and crying. Because that's how he's felt every day since the summer. Because he doesn't know who he is anymore. Fuck, he doesn't even know his name. His real one. No way would Pop have let him be named Armando.

Because he doesn't know how to live for all of them.

Mom and Dad.

Nan and Pop.

Because he doesn't know how to love all of them.