Tina exhaled slowly and turned toward the sound of that familiar voice, her mother’s voice.  Her parents stood, side by side, fewer than five feet away from her, and as Tina looked at them, really looked, she was taken aback with how much older they both appeared. 

They were a handsome couple, her father, tall and slim, his full head of thick hair neatly trimmed, her mother, stylish and fit, perfectly made up and accessorized as she’d always been.  But the years showed in their eyes and their faces, and the effect of time was so surprising that Tina was momentarily speechless.  What a waste those 10 years of exile had been.  What a waste of time.  She opened and closed her mouth, trying to speak, trying to synthesize all that she was thinking and feeling, but no words came out.

“Honey,” her father said, filling the silence and the space between them in a few determined steps.  “Thank you for seeing us.”

Tina looked up at her father, and then over his shoulder at her mother, who stood unmoving with a look of fear, and weariness, and sadness on her face.

“Thanks for coming,” Tina managed.  She took an awkward step toward her father, and as soon as she was within arm’s length, he reached for her, and pulled her close, not letting go.

As she buried her face in his shoulder, Tina could smell her father’s cologne, the same brand he’d worn since she was a child, and the faint hint of starch from his crisp white shirt.  It reminded her of all the afternoons when he’d come home from the University and the two of them would talk about her school day and what books she was reading and where she and her friends planned to go that night. 

“I’ve missed you, Dad,” Tina whispered, allowing herself to admit what she’d been trying for years not to acknowledge.

His grip around her tightened, and Tina felt her father nodding against the top of her head, could hear his quiet, “Me too.”

“Mitch, for heaven’s sake, you’re going to break her in half,” Barbara Kennard said, her voice quaking as she walked next to her husband and daughter.

Tina raised her head to look up into her mother’s tear-streaked face.  “Mom─” she started.

But her mother shook her head and held up her hand to stop her.  “Please, wait,” Barbara said.  “I have something I need…we need…to tell you.”

And suddenly, Tina felt her knees get weak beneath her.  So.  This was it.  Her parents had been willing to come this far, to answer her letter, to meet her.  But there were conditions.  Tina swallowed hard and stepped out of her father’s embrace, squaring her shoulders to ready herself for the ultimatum to come.

“What is it?”

“Tina,” her mother said, dabbing at fresh tears with a rumpled tissue, “I can’t tell you how many times over the years we’ve regretted what we did.  Every holiday.  Every birthday…  Every day.  We were wrong.  And we’re so very sorry.”

Tina bit her lower lip, trying to keep from crying.  “Thank you,” she said, blinking back her tears.

“I know it’s a lot to ask, after…everything that’s happened,” Barbara said softly, “but I hope that you’re willing to let us meet Bette and our beautiful granddaughter.  We want to be a family again, Tina.  If you’re willing to have us.”

Tina looked at her parents for a long moment before she spoke again.

“It…um…it broke my heart, Mom, when you told me you couldn’t accept me into your lives any more.  I was devastated and if it hadn’t been for Bette I don’t know how I would have gotten through it,” Tina said, struggling with her emotions.  “She and I created a new family.  Great, caring people who’ve been there for us no matter what.  But…but there’s always been a hole.  There’s been…something missing.  Maybe now our family can be complete.”

Before Tina could even finish her sentence, her mother wrapped her in a huge hug.

“That’s right,” Barbara Kennard said, smoothing her only daughter’s hair, “now our family can be complete.”