I used to wonder what it would be like to know my biological parents. Would I love them simply because we share DNA? Is it an automatic response, or does that type of love have to be earned?
Did they ever love me like I wanted them to?
I know the answers to these questions now. After nineteen years of abandonment, that ache that started as a form of missing the parents I never knew morphed into a hatred for two cowards.
I remember spending countless hours—days even—watching happy families run around outside together and filling the bright yellow jungle gym across the street from one of my several foster homes with high-pitched, heart-tugging laughter. I don’t remember which house it was—I lost track somewhere around my tenth placement, but I’ve never been able to forget the vibrant shade of yellow paint that coated that damn playground.
Every kid licking a perfectly swirled ice cream cone while being pushed on that rickety old swing set brought forward a storm of agony that made me wish I could turn it off. I wanted every tormenting, heartbreaking emotion to disappear. I wanted to feel numb, to be nothing more than an empty shell. I wanted anything, anyone, to stop the pain. But nothing came. Nobody came.
I sat in my makeshift bedroom and stared longingly out the window, day after day, night after night. I relished in my loneliness while pleading that by some wicked chance, my mother would realize I was more important than the feeling of getting high, and my father would suddenly wish that he had stayed to take care of me, knowing that my mother couldn’t. But that day never came.
When Mrs. Taylor, my social worker, sat me down at the long, splintered wood dining table in the crowded group home and told me about Lily and Derek, I burst out laughing for the first time in months. I remember telling her not to get her hopes up. That I was going to be eighteen in a couple of years and then I would be able to take care of myself. But despite everything, I had started to trust her, so I agreed to meet them. Thank God I did.
Lily and Derek are the closest thing to biological parents—a real family—that I could have asked for. The minute I walked through the front doors of their large home, I was met with the faint scent of flowers and the peanut butter and chocolate chip cookies Lily was baking in her chef’s kitchen.
It makes me sad to remember how shocking it was to smell just common, comforting scents and be so taken aback. But after years of musty clothes and burnt food, my surprise wasn’t out of the ordinary.
Lily’s son, Ben, took the older-brother responsibilities in huge strides—welcoming me as his little sister the second we met. He protected me from everyone and everything until he went off to university, a year before I did.
Lily and Derek like to keep the subject of my biological parents tucked away, hidden behind lock and key. They know it’s still a challenging topic for me. That’s probably why I was completely blindsided when Lily called to tell me my biological mother showed up on her doorstep last night.
My phone is against my ear, but all I hear is static. Anger floods my veins and washes up memories I never wanted to think about again. The teasing, the tear tracks and swollen eyes I hid every morning. The abandonment that I haven’t been able to shake.
I know Lily must be speaking, but her words are muted, like I have my head underwater and she’s shouting for my attention.
Closing my eyes, I turn on my side and tuck my face into my pillow before releasing a breath. The comfort of my bed keeps the walls from completely closing in.
Lily’s soft words finally slip through the fog. “Speak to me, baby. Don’t shove me out.”
“What did she want?” I whisper.
“Your phone number. She wanted to know where to find you.”
My chest tightens. “You didn’t give her anything.”
“No, sweetheart. I didn’t. It wasn’t my place to interfere. She shouldn’t have even known where to find us. Those records should have been sealed.”
“I don’t want anything to do with that woman.”
Rebecca, the no longer nameless woman whose blood runs through my veins, is nothing more than someone who carried me for nine months. She will never be anything more than a surrogate in my eyes.
“And you never have to. I’m going to find out how she found out about us. I promise you that.”
I nod even though she can’t see me. Maybe I should be crying at this whole situation, but I think I’ve already run out of tears for that woman.
“Thank you, Mom.”
Her breath hitches just slightly before she says, “You’re welcome, love bug. You’re my girl, right?”
I hiccup a laugh. “I’m your girl.”
“Now tell me if you’re okay because you know I won’t be able to hang up without knowing.”
Am I okay? I decide to be honest with both her and myself. “I don’t know. I guess I’m more confused than anything. Confused and angry. I’m so angry. What gives her the right to just pop up and ask about me after all these years? Doesn’t she know she’s not wanted?”
“I don’t know, sweetheart. I really wish I did so I could put your mind at ease.”
“What does she look like?” I blurt out before I can stop myself.
Mom pauses, and the silence is heavy, unsettling. Finally, she says, “Like you. But nowhere near as beautiful.”
I swallow a lump of emotion in my throat and suck in a shuddered breath. “Thank you.”
“I love you, Ava, and we’re both here with you.”
“I’ve been watching quite a lot of Bones lately, just saying!” Dad shouts from someone near Mom, his voice muddled.
A smile tugs at my mouth, and I don’t fight it. “Did he just hint at his ability to destroy a dead body?”
“Yes, I think he did,” Mom confirms with a soft laugh.
“Tell him I say thank you.”
She starts to reply when there’s a knock on my door. Five of them.
“O, baby! Open the door before I drop our food all over the ground,” Adam shouts.
Mom’s laugh rings in my ear before she says, “Call me if you need me. I mean it, call anytime.”
I get out of bed and head for the front door. “I will. I love you, Mom.”
“I love you too. Have a good night.”
“Night,” I mumble before ending the call. Adam starts knocking again, and I swing open the door with a frown. “You’re going to piss off my neighbours.”
He grins at me and lifts a massive box of pizza and a shopping bag in the air. “Would be worth it. Let me in, I’m starving.”
I step out of the way and let him through before shutting and locking the door. “How did you know I was at home? You could have texted me or something.”
He sets all the food on the coffee table and flops down on the couch. With warm brown eyes, he stares at me far too curiously for my liking.
“What’s wrong?” he asks.
I don’t want to talk about Rebecca, so I avoid his question, flipping the conversation on him instead. “Why are you here?”
“Other than to bring you food because I knew you were planning on studying all night and you never prioritize food when you’re in one of those moods?”
Of course, he has to be so damn caring all the time. He makes it impossible to push him away when you don’t want to talk about your problems.
“Dammit, Adam,” I grumble, sitting beside him on the couch. “What kind did you get?”
“Meat lovers. No pineapple for you.”
I flip the lid on the pizza box and hold back a moan at the smell. My stomach growls as I take a slice and start to eat.
“Thank you, Adam. You know me so well,” he sings.
I swallow. “Thank you, A. Now, stop gloating.”
He stacks two slices before bringing them to his mouth and taking a massive bite. I lift my brows and watch how quickly he scarfs back the pizza. When he notices me watching him, he quickly swallows and smirks.
“You’re drooling.”
“Oh, please.” I scoff. “How do you not choke on your food?”
“I got a big mouth, baby.”
“If that isn’t the truth,” I agree, adjudging myself on the couch until I’m comfortable. Once I have my back to the armrest and my cheek pressed to the back cushions, Adam huffs and pulls my legs over his lap.
He rests his forearms on my thighs. “You’re sad.”
I sigh. “I’m a lot of things right now.”
“Enlighten me. You’ve told me on more than one occasion that I’m a good listener.”
“My birth mom has been asking about me. She found Lily and Derek’s house,” I mutter.
“Woah. What?”
“Yeah. Messed up, right?”
He frowns. “How is that even possible? I thought the foster system didn’t give out that information? Isn’t it, like, super creepy for her to even know where to look for you?”
I groan. “Yeah, Lily’s trying to figure this whole mess out, considering it was a closed adoption and all records should have been sealed. My parents didn’t know who she was until she told them.”
Adam brushes his fingers over my shin. “I’m sorry, Ava.”
“I just don’t know what to do about it. Do I pretend it doesn’t matter that she’s sniffing around? Or do I let myself get angry and upset? I’ve spent too long hating her for her to just reappear.”
“You can do either. I don’t think there’s a right or wrong with this kind of thing.”
“That doesn’t help me,” I mumble.
Adam chuckles. “No, it probably doesn’t.”
I release a long exhale. “I hate her.”
“I hate her too.”
“The only thing I was ever told about her was that she was a drug addict who couldn’t take care of a baby. Not what kind of person she was or why she didn’t want to get better so we could be a family.”
Adam doesn’t say anything; he just reaches toward me and pulls me to his side. I let him hold me as I try not to let loose the sobs wreaking havoc in my chest.
“She shouldn’t have this much power over me,” I say. Hatred turns my voice into something hard and cold.
“There’s nothing wrong with feeling the way you are. Someone who was supposed to love you betrayed you in the worst way. Who wouldn’t carry that with them?”
I know he’s right, but I can’t get myself to tell him that. It’s like if I accept that I’m allowed to feel these feelings, they’ll only grow and grow until I can’t handle them anymore.
“Talk to me about something else, Adam. Please,” I beg.
“Okay, O.” He tightens his arm around my shoulders. “My dad’s still trying to get me to join the law firm. He set up this fancy dinner with all of the partners for this weekend and hopes that after I meet everyone, I’ll have some kind of epiphany and change my mind. It’s a last-ditch effort, but you and I both know it won’t work.”
“Tell him he can shove it. You would be an awful lawyer.”
“Oh?”
“You’re too much of a joker. You’d end up getting kicked out of the courtroom for making an inappropriate joke or something.”
“You know me too well, O. Now, if only you could convince my dad of that.”
“I could try.”
He scrunches his nose. “I wouldn’t want to subject you to being under his beady eyes as he tries to rip you apart for standing up for his rebel son.”
“God, he’s gross.”
He kisses the top of my head. “The grossest.”
“Thank you for coming tonight. I don’t know how you do it, but you’re always here when I need you.”
“Call it best friend intuition. I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.”
