Family Reunion

"Ben, get the door please," his father called as he headed up the stairs. "I need to check on your sister. It's nearly six and I haven't seen her all day."

Ben thought about ignoring him to finish the last level of his game — he was so close — but feared that a second doorbell ring would blow his cover. He didn't understand what the big fuss about Amber was, anyway. Darren Wexler's party was tonight; she was gonna come down at some point.

Shoving his game against the couch cushions, Ben bounded to the front door and swung it open without bothering to check the peephole.

"Can I help you?" Ben recited like Mom had taught him. Sometimes he would try and spice it up; today, he was just eager to get back to the couch.

"Holy shit."

Ben blinked. An adult had never said that to him before.

He didn't even know this woman. Ben was sure he'd never seen her heart shaped face, or the cascade of dark braids that framed it. Her clothes were also new to him, the colors so bright against her copper skin that it nearly gave him a headache. The longer he stared at her, the more certain he was he'd never seen her before in his life.

And yet — there was something familiar.

"Holy shit, she really had one," the lady whispered, more to herself than him.

"Um, are you a friend of Mom's or something?" he threw a thumb over his shoulder, "cause I can go get her." Ben silently hoped she'd say yes. As mildly interesting as she seemed, he really wanted to finish the level.

"Wow, alright, this has thrown me a bit, not gonna lie," she continued on as if he'd said nothing. "I had my suspicions when I called Monday but... I suppose I should introduce myself, huh. God, that's so weird, introducing myself to my own nephew. Oh, yeah. I'm your aunt. Guess that's one way to do it."

"My aunt?" Ben repeated. "I don't think I have an aunt."

"And I didn't think I had a nephew. We're all learning new things today, kid. Now, can you tell me if your sister's home?"

Ben took a step back as suspicion tickled his spine. How did she know about Amber and not him? Suddenly, the lady was much more interesting than his game.

"If you're my aunt, then why haven't I seen you before today, hmm? We have family pictures, you know."

Ben's face turned smug as he waited for her to fess up, anticipating the look in her eyes when she realized she was caught.

Instead, her eyes slid right past him.

"Emmie."

Ben wasn't sure she said anything at first, her voice drowned out by the sound of breaking glass. Startled, he turned and found his mother standing way too still, a broken bowl of spaghetti laying at her feet.

"Callie."

He looked between the two of them, making the connection that this woman — Callie — must've been Mom's sister. He could kind of see it, especially in the defiant expressions they both wore, but overall, Ben didn't think they looked much alike.

"Get away from the door, Benjamin." His mom's voice was cold as ice, but there was a waiver underneath that was new for her.

"Oh, don't be so dramatic, Emmie, I'm not gonna—"

"Don't call me that," Mom shouted. "You don't get to call me anything, do you hear me? You are nothing to me, or to anyone in this house. You gave up that right a long time ago. Now, Benjamin, for the last time, get away from the door!"

He almost slipped in tomato sauce in his rush to get past her. He dashed up the stairs, only to crash into his father, who was already on his way down.

"What's going—" he started to ask, then caught sight of the guest at the door.

That's when Ben knew something was really wrong. Mom overreacting wasn't anything new, but the look in his dad's eyes had a cold pit forming in his stomach. From below, pieces of the conversation drifted up the staircase.

"Leave, Callie. Now."

"God, Emmie, don't make this harder than it has to be, alright? I just gotta talk to her. There are things she needs to know, things only I can tell her. Can't we, like, be adults about—"

"What do you know about being an adult? Never once have you been responsible for anything in your entire life, so why start now? My life is not some toy that you can fuck around with whenever you see fit. Just because you destroyed your own does not mean you get to keep trying to drag me down with you!"

Ben was frozen, watching from the stairs as they vollied back and forth like a horrifying tennis match. Every vein in Mom's neck was visible as she screamed in Callie's face, yet his aunt didn't so much as flinch. She now stood against one of the hallway walls, staring at her sister with a look of disdain. It tickled his memory once again, despite the fact he knew it was impossible. She said herself he had never met her before.

And yet...

"Emily, please, not like this," his father tried.

"This has nothing to do with you, Daniel," she bit back.

"Like hell it doesn't." Ben had never heard his dad use that tone before. Yep, this was really bad. "For God sake, just take a second and think about what you're doing right now! Think about our family, about Amber!"

"Is that her name?" Callie's cool facade cracked around the edges. "Amber?"

"It doesn't matter what her name is, Callie. You're leaving, and you won't be coming back."

For the first time since this started, Ben saw a familiar flash of anger cross Callie's face. Maybe she and mom did have something in common. "Her name matters to me, Emmie, and it's about damn time I knew it. I mean, do you know how fucked up it is that I don't know my own daughter's name?"

Everything stopped at once. Ben waited for Mom to come back at her, to call her crazy — to deny it. Never before had he wanted his mom to scream so bad in his life.

But instead, she said something Ben would never forget.

"And whose fault is that?"

A sharp gasp above him made Ben slam his knee against the bannister. He cried out, drawing all eyes towards him. Through the pain, he found Amber hovering on the top step, and by the look on her face, she had heard every word.

"Amber," a voice said from downstairs, but Ben couldn't be sure if it was his mom or Callie.

He never found out; Amber was running for her room before he could check.

"Hey, wait," he shouted, sprinting to catch up to her. Ben covered the short distance from the stairs to her door, then shoved his foot in the threshold before she could slam it.

"Move," she demanded.

"No, let me in."

"Ben, I mean it—"

"I'm coming in," he cut her off, yelling to be heard over the commotion downstairs, "because this is crazy and I don't know what's happening. All I know is, I don't want to deal with it alone. We've always gotten through things together... can't we get through this too?"

She studied his face for a moment before Ben felt the pressure lift off his foot. He tentatively pushed against the door, and when she didn't resist, he opened it. Squeezing into the room, he made sure to lock it behind him.

Amber said nothing, just climbed straight into bed and stared up at the ceiling. Ben followed her lead, kicking off his shoes and sliding in next to her. They laid like that for the rest of the evening, ignoring knocks at her door that encouraged her to come out, to talk, to listen. As it got later, Ben found it hard to keep his eyes open. He snuggled deeper under the covers, ready to sleep and forget today had happened.

But just before he drifted off, he whispered softly, "I love you, Amber. You're my sister, no matter what."

Seconds later, her arms hugged him close to her chest.

"I love you, too," she said thickly, kissing him on the forehead.

He tucked his head under her chin, letting the rhythm of her breaths lull him to sleep. They stayed like that for a few hours, neither of them moving from each other's arms.

Then, just after midnight, Amber got a phone call.