“I think about her a lot and being here makes me think of her even more. I hope she didn’t come to her decision under any circumstance other than it was the right choice for her and for you.” She cleared her throat. “And now we’re here, in her space, making it our own, and I’d be lying if I told you I wasn’t worried about how all this is affecting you.”

“And I’m worried about how all this is affecting you and Mom.” I couldn’t keep the tears from spilling over. “I didn’t come here because I wanted to know more about my birth family. I came here because I knew it could help us out.”

“But that’s the thing,” said Mo. “You don’t have to choose, love. You can do both. Of course you’d want to know more about these people, about their past, about their lives, and I—we support you. You love me and Mom, right?”

“More than anything.”

“And the feeling is mutual, baby girl. I love you more than I love myself, and you know how much I love myself.”

I laughed through the tears. Mo was the best at making a heavy situation feel lighter.

“Talk to people, research, look at pictures, ask questions. We both know that you got something running in your veins that can’t be easily explained. Maybe this is your chance to get to the bottom of it. Me and Mom are here for you no matter what. We are a family. Nothing is going to change that, understand?”

Mom and Mo were so different in most ways, but not in the way they loved me—unconditionally and with their whole hearts. I reached out and squeezed her hand. “I love you.”

“I love you more.”

We pulled up in front of the house, and she leaned over and hugged me tight. Mom came out to meet us.

“Why are y’all cryin’?” she asked.

“Just having a heart-to-heart with our baby,” said Mo.

We climbed out of the car and stood around, looking at the new tires. Mom put her arm around my shoulder and wiped my tearstained face with the sleeve of her shirt. “Anything I need to be aware of?”

“Nah,” Mo said. “We were mourning my waffles and thinking about how much better they’ll turn out next time.”

Mom pulled me closer dramatically. “Oh, baby, I’d cry too if I had to eat any more of her breakfasts.”

“Next set of waffles is gonna be lit.” Mo winked at me.

“I thought we agreed to no more buzzwords,” I said.