Page 93 of No Judgements

Even worse, there was another person, a stranger they appeared to have dragged with them, sitting on the other end of the couch. She was a small woman in her early fifties with a severe blond pixie cut who was at least wearing more sensible clothes—khaki shorts with a collared shirt and no-nonsense boots like mine—than either my mother or Steen.

She was sipping a cup of coffee that Mrs. Hartwell, standing nervously in the corner, had apparently poured for her, while staring owlishly at the rest of us through somewhat thick glasses, probably wondering how on earth she’d gotten herself into this mess. Since she was holding a blissfully purring Gary on her lap, I assumed that she was at least somewhat happy, because no one could hold a purring Gary on their lap and not feel happy.

Still, I pitied her, whoever she was, for having been sucked into this mess.

And not just her—poor Mrs. Hartwell, as well. This was the last thing that poor lady needed, to have to entertain Judge Justine while also recovering from a hurricane. The least I could do was try to hurry along her visit.

“Mom,” I said. “Thanks so much. I’m sure everyone appreciates it. But where exactly—”

“Oh, I gave it all to that sheriff down at the airport when we landed,” my mother said breezily, not allowing me to finish my question. “He said they’re going to start handing it out this afternoon in the parking lot of some grocery store.”

“That’s right.” Mrs. Hartwell pointed uneasily to Ed’s radio, which was sitting on the coffee table. “They said this morning on Head and the Toad Licker that they’d be starting food giveaways in the parking lot of the Publix at three this afternoon for anyone in need.”

“And not only food for humans.” My mom looked inordinately proud of herself. “Pet food, too, Sabrina, thanks to this lady, here.” She pointed at the shy woman on the couch holding Gary on her lap. “Do you know who this woman is?”

Obviously, I had no idea. “Um, no, Mom.”

“This,” my mother said, proudly, “is your biological mother, Sabrina. Dr. Iris Svenson!”

Chapter Thirty-Four

Free Pet Emergency Care Available in Little Bridge

The Veterinary Emergency Response Team opens today for all pet emergencies at the Animal Clinic. We have a fully operational hospital, including an operating room.

All emergency care is available at no charge. This team will remain in place until our local veterinarians are back up and running.

Care is available forANIMALS ONLY.

My knees seemed suddenly to have gone out from under me. It was a good thing we were in the living room, where there were a lot of chairs. I sat down heavily in one of them near the end of the couch, my mind whirling.

My mother. The woman holding Gary on her lap was my mother.

“Wait.” Mrs. Hartwell looked confused. “You have two mothers, Bree?”

“No.” Dr. Svenson adjusted her thick glasses, but never stopped stroking Gary, who was flexing and unflexing his front claws in delight, careful not to sink them into her bare knees. He never bothered to take such care when he was sitting with me. “She does not have two mothers, only one. It’s more correct to say that I am Sabrina’s donor mother. I donated the egg from which Sabrina was conceived. Mrs. Beckham actually gave birth to and raised her, so she is Sabrina’s real mother.”

Mrs. Hartwell still looked confused. “Oh.”

Drew, who was resting a comforting hand on my shoulder, gave it a reassuring squeeze. “I’ll explain it to her sometime,” he whispered in my ear.

I wasn’t really listening. I had more important things to worry about.

“Mom.” I could not believe she’d done this. Not that I wasn’t happy to meet my donor mother. I just hadn’t planned on meeting hernow, in this way, with my hair in a sweaty pony while wearing a pair of borrowed Timberland boots after I’d just pulled a gun on my ex-boyfriend’s best friend. “Was this really necessary?”

“Well, of course it was, Sabrina!” My mom was clearly upset that her little surprise hadn’t gone over well. “Besides being your mother, Dr. Svenson is a very distinguished veterinarian and animal nutritionist! She works for the Veterinary Scientific Advisory Group! I still don’t understand exactly what that is, but I’m sure it’s very, very important.”

Dr. Svenson gave me a timid smile that looked a little familiar somehow—until I realized, with a shock, that itwas my own. “The VSAG is a group that works to develop cooperative relationships between the veterinary community and various other groups to enhance their services.”

Of course. Ofcoursemy donor mother was a veterinarian. What else would she be?

I smiled back at her—or tried to, anyway.

“I’m very glad to meet you,” I said, extending my right hand, though I’m pretty sure my fingers were shaking. “I’m so sorry about my mom. She’s a lot.”

“Oh, I know.” Dr. Svenson slipped her hand into mine and gave it a gentle squeeze, while Gary, disturbed that no one was petting him, let out a grumble. “I met her before, you know. And your dad. I quite liked them. That’s why I chose them. I thought they’d be good for... well, you. I didn’t know you then, of course, but... well, it seems to have worked out. You look... happy.”

My eyes filled with tears. It wasn’t only because of what she’d said. It was her touch, as well. Even though it was simply her fingers closing around mine, it felt exactly like the hug I’d received earlier on the porch from my mom: like coming home.