Free Connection (Le Garde) by Emily Ann Ward Page B

smiled despite myself. I first knew it as a line from Moulin Rouge, and Aaron couldn’t believe I’d never heard the David Bowie song. My smile faded when I thought of the line, Though nothing will keep us together.
    I stared at the text, not sure what to text back. I fantasized over responses: Just for one day. Or Ewan McGregor did it better . Or Am I Nicole Kidman or Iman? Even though the answer to that was obvious. I’d be the supermodel born in Somalia way before the pale Aussie.
    The one I really wanted to send read: I don’t know whether to love you or hate you.
    I dozed off with the phone in my hand. The creak of my door woke me up. I pulled my covers down, and my mom walked into the room. She had her white nightdress on; she looked like she could be an angel. She sat down on the side of my bed and stroked my hair back from my face.
    “ What happened tonight?” she asked.
    “ What do you mean?” My heart started to pound against my ribcage, but there’s no way she could know. No way.
    She sighed, pulling her hand away from me. “Anna, why didn’t you tell me?”
    It was the same question she’d asked in the car, only now she was speaking in English. “Why are you speaking in English?”
    She made a noise of exasperation and switched to French. “Why didn’t you tell me? Is that better?” She stood up and started pacing. “I should have known.   .   .I should have known that’s why the two of you were so close. But I didn’t think it was possible. What were the chances?”
    I sat up, and the cool air of the room hit my arms, giving me goosebumps. “What are you talking about?” I asked, my voice shaking.
    She started speaking in Langala, and I only picked up a word or two: he, why, no.
    “ Mom!” I said. “What are you saying?”
    She froze and stared at me. After a moment, she said, “You aren’t tutoring him anymore. He needs to do his own work.”
    She left the room, slamming the door. I stared after her, and I swore the room started spinning. I held my head in my hands. How could she know? How could she possibly know?
    I stood up and went into the hall, but when I knocked on her door, she didn’t answer. I called for her, I pounded on it, and Mom told me to go to bed. Allie came out of her room, asking what was wrong.
    I fumed for a moment, clenching my fists. With a sigh, I accepted that Mom wasn’t going to answer her door and I went back to my room, slamming my door, too.
     
    * * *
     
    The next morning, I came downstairs with a headache. I hadn’t gotten to sleep until two in the morning. I’d almost called Aaron half a dozen times. I’d gotten on the computer and wasted time on the internet until my eyes ached. I’d spent most of the night having weird dreams.
    Mom sat at the table, drinking coffee. I stood at the opposite end and put my hands on my hips. “How do you know?” I asked.
    Mom put her coffee down and met my eyes. She looked tired, too, her eyes red and lined with bags. She glanced past me at Allie, who was making cereal in the kitchen.
    “ I deserve to know,” I said, putting my hands on the table. “Why didn’t you tell me last night?”
    “ I needed to think.” Mom sighed. “I have the same connection with Aaron’s father.”
    I couldn’t breathe. I took a step backward, putting my hands over my mouth. “What?” I gasped.
    “ When we met, he was already married, and I was engaged to your father,” Mom said. “Tara was on the way.   .   .I didn’t think it would be passed down. I had no idea.”
    “ I.   .   .what? Oh, my gosh, I can’t believe this.” I ran my hands through my hair, not even caring that I was making it frizzy again after my careful grooming this morning.
    “ What’s wrong?” Allie asked, bringing her bowl of cereal over.
    “ Is it going to happen to her?” I asked Mom, my eyes widening. “Is it going to happen to Ginger?”
    “ I don’t know.”
    “ What about your sister?”
    Mom shook her head. “I don’t