The Accident

by Donna M. Zadunajsky

  “Right side,” Rose answered.

  Leah walked around the bed and pulled the covers back. She cautiously slipped her hand under his back and rolled him gently to his side, moving the gown out of the way.

  Rose came and stood next to Leah. There was no birthmark, but instead several scars. “Why would he have scars?” Rose asked as she leaned in to get a better look. “I’m not sure if I see the birthmark anymore.”

  Leah laid the man back down and covered him with the blankets, just as she’d found them. “I’m not sure, maybe he felt strange about the birthmark and wanted to have it removed? It happens sometimes.” This she wasn’t sure of but wanted to comfort the lady. “Is there anything thing else that you’d like to check?”

  “Yes, actually there is. I’m still not convinced that he is my Adam. Sure, there may be some similar traits as in the photo, but I just… I just don’t feel it in my heart that he is my son. Do you understand, my dear? I would know if something were wrong with him. I’d know if he were dead as you say he is.”

  Leah felt defeated once again. It had to be her Adam because who else could he be? There was no one else from the accident that hadn’t been identified. He was the only one left, she told herself, though she didn’t know for sure if there were anyone else. She hadn’t asked or checked. “What would you like us to do?”

  “I’d like to speak to the doctor first. Please get me the doctor,” Rose said in a stern voice.

  Leah went to the phone on the wall and paged Dr. Amal to come to the room they were in. Ten minutes or so had passed. Rose sat in a chair next to the man, while Leah stood along the wall, waiting for the doctor.

  “Nurse Leah, what is the emergency?” Dr. Amal asked as he entered the room.

  Leah pointed to Rose. “She is. She may be the man’s mother, but she has questions and wants to speak to you.”

  Dr. Amal walked over to where Rose was sitting. “Ma’am, what can I help you with?”

  Rose looked from the man in the bed to the doctor. “This kind lady here,” she nodded her head at Leah, “Thinks that this is my son, Adam, but I need more proof than just looking at him and the scar on his back.”

  “Scar?”

  “Yes, I wanted to see his birthmark, but there’s a scar covering it up and we can’t tell if there is a birthmark under it,” Rose rambled on.

  “I see, so what is it you want me to do? How can I assure you that he’s your son, Adam? You say he isn’t?” Dr. Amal questioned.

  “Can you tell me what his blood type is? Adam has a rare blood type, AB negative. If you can show me this, then I’ll believe that he is my Adam.”

  “Leah, could you retrieve the patient’s file, please?”

  Leah nodded and slipped out of the room. She searched the nurse’s station for his chart and found it filed in a rack with the other patients. She opened the file and scanned over the sheet, stopping when she saw the blood type. Her eyes closed, and she fell back against the chair. She needed to collect herself before she walked back into the room to tell Rose.

  34

  Officer Moore held the photo in her hand as she sat in an empty stall of the women’s restroom. For twenty-seven years she’d wanted nothing more than to see her daughter again. The daughter she’d regrettably given up.

  She stared down at the picture Woods had given her an hour ago. She had no idea what he was up to when he had her sit in the interrogation room, then slid over a photo. She thought it was about the case, the accident, but once she looked down and saw the young woman in the photograph, she knew it was her child. They had the same smile. The curve of their eyes was the same. She could see Roland in her too.

  As she sat there across from Woods, her mind flashed back to that day so many years ago and she quickly stood, knocking the chair to the floor, and ran out of the room with the picture still in her hand.

  Oh my God, she said to herself. I can’t believe it’s you. After all this time. She’d been sitting in the stall for over an hour when she heard the knock on the women’s restroom door.

  “Adanya,” Woods said. He never called her by her first name at work unless it was personal. “Can I please come in, so we can talk about this?”

  Out of all the people she knew in this town of Edon, he was the only one she would want to know about her daughter. She stood and opened the door of the stall and walked to the mirror. She didn’t want him to see her like this and wiped away the tears. Her eyes were beginning to puff up from all the crying. Well, she couldn’t do anything about that now. She was just glad that she didn’t wear much makeup. No mascara to smear beneath her eyes. She took in a deep breath and walked to the door. Her hand touched the cold metal knob. She hesitated, almost changing her mind, then opened the door. Their eyes met as if it were the first time they’d seen each other.

  “Can we go some place quiet?” she asked.

  He nodded. “I know just the place.”

  Moore followed him out to his car, keeping her head down as they walked. They drove off down the road, neither speaking a word. Woods entered the parking lot of the only park in Edon. He parked the patrol car facing toward Lake Erie and turned off the engine.

  The silence was more than Moore could take. She had to say something, but silence wasn’t always a bad thing. Two people can sit in the same space and not talk, but that wasn’t why they were here. Woods deserved the truth if they were going to be in a relationship together. Although she hadn’t talked to him about getting serious. Maybe he had changed his mind after the way she talked to him the other day. She didn’t know, but they had to talk about everything today and get things out in the open once and for all.

  She had never thought that after all these years, she’d be sitting here talking about the baby she’d given up. It was so long ago and such a heartbreaking day. One she didn’t like remembering. “How did you know? How…”

  Woods cut her off. “She came into the station yesterday right after you left for your appointment, which you haven’t said what was wrong with you. What did the doctor say?”

  “You grabbed me right when I walked into the station this morning; besides, I think we have another matter that we’re discussing. I want to know how you know,” Moore stated, hoping that she didn’t sound too bossy, too demanding, like she always did. He started this, and she wanted to know what he knew. Then a thought came to her. What if he talked to someone else about this? What if they saw her too?

  “Okay, you’re right, but I want to know if there’s something wrong with you. You’d tell me, wouldn’t you?”

  “Woods,” she said a little too loudly, her words echoing inside the closed-up car. Their body heat together was making her more irritated. She placed her hand on the door and powered down the window, just enough to get some fresh air inside the car. She couldn’t take this not knowing a second longer. She took in a deep breath and spoke as kindly as she could. “Yes, I would tell you, but I can’t take more than one obstacle at a time.”

  Woods nodded. “Yesterday, I opened the door at the police station for her, she turned and smiled at me. I almost lost my footing and fell backwards down the stairs,” he explained. “My God, I couldn’t believe the resemblance. I wanted to ask her if you two were related, but I remember you saying that you had no more family since your father died.”

  Moore nodded in agreement, which now seemed to be a lie. “What did she come to the station for? Was she looking for me?” She sat waiting patiently for his answer. Wanting to know everything.

  “She came in with questions about a man from the accident. You know, the accident on the Ohio Turnpike.”

  Moore knew which one, since it had been the only horrific accident they’ve had in all her years of being a police officer. She nodded for him to continue.

  “She wanted help to find the family because the man is apparently brain-dead and will soon be taken off the ventilator. She said she’d gone to Franklin Police, but no one there could help her, so she came to us.”

&nbs
p; “She wasn’t looking for me?”

  Woods shook his head.

  “But what made you look into this?” She held up the picture she was still holding in her hand since they left the station.

  “Well, I can’t say that I wasn’t acting weird about her looks. I mean, my God, she looks exactly like you, Adanya. I guess I made her feel uncomfortable because she practically ran out of the building like it was on fire,” he said. “I went back to my desk and ran a search on her name. I found her address and where she works.”

  “Where does she live?”

  “Franklin.”

  “She lives in Franklin?”

  “Yes, she’s lived there her whole life.”

  “What is her name?”

  “Leah James.”

  “Leah James,” Moore whispered into the car. Everything was coming at her too fast. First the tumor and now finding her baby girl, but if anything, Moore was shocked. This whole time she had lived one town away from her daughter. She wanted to scream. All this time when Moore thought that she’d never know where she was, her baby was only several miles away. “Does it say anything else? Like who her parents are?”

  He nodded. “The mother lives in Naples, Florida and the father passed away when she was sixteen. Adanya, can you tell me who she is? Is she your daughter?”

  Moore swallowed. She liked it when he said her name; it felt more intimate between them. She decided that she would just tell him and let it all out. No more secrets between them. She began telling Woods of her past and that she had made the decision to give up her baby because of her dreams and not being able to take care of her. “I couldn’t take care of her and give her a good life. Trust me, I have tortured myself for what I’ve done, but I can’t take it back. I can’t change the past that I put in motion.”

  “What about the father? Did he agree to this adoption?”

  This was the worst part of the whole story, telling him that she had never told the father about the baby. She could lie to him, but she didn’t want to. She loved this man beside her and didn’t want to start their relationship with any lies. So if she were going to start a relationship with Trevon Woods, the hottest man she’d ever met since Roland, then she had to tell him the truth and hope that he would still want her because she knew she wanted him. “He died,” she whispered.

  “Oh, no. You never had a chance to tell him?”

  She wished that was how it happened. “Trevon,” she said as she looked into his eyes. The same eyes that she dreamt of every night when she went to sleep. “I never told him because he was leaving to go to college and eventually play in the NBA. He was killed two years after making the cut to play for the Chicago Bulls. The bus that he and his teammates were on hit a sheet of ice and only four survived. Roland wasn’t one of them.”

  “Wait one second,” Woods said, holding up his hand. “Are you talking about Roland Hayes?” Woods asked. “Thee Roland Hayes who was awarded the most valuable player for the Chicago Bulls in 1997?”

  Moore nodded. “How did you know?”

  “I’m a big Chicago Bulls fan and I remember when he made the team. You know I moved from Chicago, right? Came here ten years ago.”

  She nodded. “Yes, I do recall when you transferred here.” She’d never forget that day. The day she fell in love with him.

  “But why didn’t you tell him? He had a right to know he had a daughter.”

  “I told you why. Roland had a life to live. Dreams to fulfill. He didn’t have a home here. His father abused him all through his childhood and his mother didn’t give two shits what Roland did. Don’t you see? He had talked about leaving since we started dating in high school. I couldn’t be the one to hold him back. To live here and what? Work at some factory just so he could raise our child?” she explained, then began to cry into her hands. This is what she didn’t want to happen. She didn’t want to cry like a baby in front of Woods.

  Trevon touched her shoulder. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to criticize the choice you made. You did what you thought was right and now…now you have a second chance.”

  Moore looked up at him. “Second chance?”

  “Yes, you can have a relationship with your daughter.”

  She hadn’t thought about that. Could she really get to know her child? She wasn’t a child anymore. She was twenty-seven years old. Then the fear of what Leah would ask came at her full speed. The questions she’d want to know. How would Moore answer them? It wasn’t the same as talking to Woods. This was her daughter, the baby that she chose to give up, and Leah would want to know the truth of why Moore had done it. She’d read books about people being reconnected with their birth child after giving them up, and the one question they always asked was, “Why didn’t you want me?” What would she tell her? Because in all honesty, Moore had wanted her and loved her; that was why she’d given her away. “But…I can’t. What if she doesn’t want anything to do with me?”

  “How will you know if you don’t find out? People still have dreams that they want. Just because yours was to be a police officer doesn’t mean that you have never dreamed of finding your child one day, right?” he questioned.

  Yes, it was true, she’d always wanted to find her, but with God’s strength, she had plowed through those times that she was fragile and in a blink of an eye twenty-seven years had passed her by. “Yes,” she said, and she meant it. She did want to be a part of Leah’s life, but the question was, did Leah want Moore to be a part of hers?

  35

  Kaitlyn’s mind was reeling since breakfast. Ben had acted different, strange in a way she’d never seen him. Although he’d been in a terrible car accident, she felt there had to be some of the old Ben she knew still inside him. The Ben that abused her and had raped her if she didn’t give him what he wanted, especially when he was angry. The Ben who had written letters to break her and Adam up. This man, in this house with her right now, wasn’t the same man from five days ago or from the days and weeks before that. She couldn’t imagine him not wanting to hit her or belittle her for whatever reason. Poached eggs, she questioned herself. Since when didn’t he like them? It’s what he had for breakfast every morning since they’d been married.

  Then seeing that mark on his lower back, which to her looked like a birthmark—she didn’t recall Ben having a dark brown birthmark there. Maybe a few scars, but a birthmark? No, she would know the difference. Placing the thoughts to the back of her mind, she focused on the other things that were bothering her.

  After they had their breakfast, Ben went back to the bedroom to lay down. He was complaining of his leg hurting him and took a pain pill. He never in their life together complained of pain, at least not around her. Probably because he didn’t want to seem weak or fragile. He needed to feel empowered around her.

  She’d kept herself busy and cleaned up the dishes. She scrubbed the countertop until her arm ached, making sure that all crumbs and splatters were cleaned, just in case her husband remembered who he was. Though this was more out of habit and fear than it was anything else.

  Once she was done, she tiptoed down the hall to the bedroom and peeked in on Ben. His head was tilted and facing the wall. She could hear him breathing. The rising of the sheets told her that he was in a deep sleep. She turned to leave, her eyes catching a glimpse of something sticking out from under her dresser.

  She slinked over to the dresser and grabbed it. It was one of the pictures she had taken of herself after one of the beatings Ben had given her. She’d taken them as evidence against him just in case she decided to go to the police. But how did the photo get on the floor? She thought back before her drive to Ohio. She hadn’t opened the drawer since she left to meet Ben for dinner on that Friday. So, unless… She looked at Ben lying in bed. Had he found the photos since they’d been home? And if he did, why hadn’t he said anything to her? She didn’t know, but she needed to find a better hiding place for them.

  She quietly opened the drawer and placed a hand under it. The white e
nvelope was still there. Her shoulders relaxed, feeling relieved. She quietly removed the envelope and left the room. There was a tingling in her chest as adrenaline raced through her body, something she’d felt many times before when she tried to run from Ben. She went straight to the den and closed the door, locking it behind her before sitting in the chair. She closed her eyes, her hands trembling as she held the envelope. When she looked down, she saw that the tape she’d placed over the seal was detached and her heart raced. Ben had found the envelope and she knew for certain he would make her pay for taking pictures of herself. But the question was, when did he find them? Weeks ago? Would that be why he wanted to talk to her? No! She was sure that if he had found them, he certainly wouldn’t take her to a restaurant and confront her. He’d either lock her up in the house or kill her for taking these.

  She opened the envelope and gathered the stack of pictures in her hand. She looked at every one of them. Her stomach dropped at the sight of the black and dark purple bruises. She stood and ran over to the garbage can beside the desk and threw up all the contents in her stomach.

  “Kaitlyn,” Ben hollered as he turned the doorknob. “Are you in there?” His fist knocked on the door.

  Kaitlyn wiped her face with a Kleenex from the desk. “Just a minute,” she said back, trying to keep the panic out of her voice. She shoved the photos back inside the envelope and opened the bottom drawer. No, she wouldn’t hide them in there; he would find them. She stood and looked around the room. She spotted an area high up on the top shelf. Yes, she would hide them behind one of the books. He wouldn’t look there; Ben hated to read.

  Once she was done and composed herself, she walked to the door and opened it. “Hi,” she said, slapping a smile on her face. She saw that his face was flushed. Was he angry with her?

  “Is everything okay?” He tilted himself toward her. “What is that smell?”

  Kaitlyn’s face fell. She forgot with the sudden panic of him at the door that she’d thrown up. “Oh God.” She turned and grabbed the wastebasket. “I guess breakfast didn’t sit well,” she replied as she grabbed the pail and moved past him and into the bathroom by the kitchen. After all these years together, she hadn’t been more scared than she was at this moment. Ben wasn’t stupid. If he did see the pictures that she’d taken, then he knew for a fact that she was going to leave him. The Ben she knew wouldn’t allow that to happen and she needed to be prepared. But he’s not the same Ben that I married. He is different and that thought scares me even more.