Look Twice

by M. Garzon

  He sat next to me and showed me the list. They were all Alfonso López, of course. One name had only an email address, one was in Vancouver, and one in Montreal. The sight of the latter city made my eyes go wide.

  “Montreal,” I murmured. My mom had loved that city and had visited it frequently before we were born, as well as a few times when we were kids. My eyes met Seth’s. “What if-”

  He nodded, his face stiff. We’d been told our whole lives that our father lived in another country — we didn’t know which — but what if that wasn’t true? What if our father had been a few hours away from us this whole time?

  I swallowed. “Should we just get it over with?”

  He nodded, looking about as scared as I felt.

  I pulled out my phone. After our close call last time I didn’t want to chance using the house phone.

  I dialed the Montreal number and waited, my heart racing much faster than it should. After four rings it went to voicemail; the message was in French and I couldn’t understand it all, but I did catch the name “Alfonso”. I disconnected quickly.

  “Voicemail,” I said to Seth.

  “Why didn’t you leave a message?”

  “I don’t know. I wasn’t thinking straight.” A statement that could apply to this whole crazy venture.

  We decided to tackle the other two first. Seth emailed the first contact, and I handed him my phone for the second. “Your turn to suffer a bit.”

  Seth looked panicked when someone picked up, and he stammered through an explanation. He winced and held the phone away from his ear before slowly pressing the ‘end’ button. He dropped the phone on the bed before dropping his head into his hands, his elbows resting on his knees.

  “He says it’s not him. He wasn’t very nice about it, either.”

  I rubbed his shoulder soothingly. “It’s okay, Moo. We’ll keep trying.”

  Despite my reassurance, I was beginning to feel doubtful. Suppose we found our real father and he wanted nothing to do with us? Even more complicated, what if he did? What if he wanted to be a big part of our lives from now on? How would that affect our relationship with the Fosters, who were the only family we knew?

  I didn’t know what to think anymore, so that night I did what I always did when I was confused — I went online to do some research. I was shocked at how much information came up from a simple search for ‘meeting birth parent’. Obviously what Seth and I were going through was fairly common. From the nature of the posts I read, it was also apparent that this could be a very emotional journey. Some of the stories were heartwarming, but there were also plenty of bittersweet experiences, and enough sad endings to give me pause.

  One woman wrote about finding the birth mother she’d dreamed of her whole life, only to have her turn into an obsessed and depressive stalker. A harsh-sounding man described finding his natural father only to have the latter constantly ask him for favors and money. And some simply wanted nothing to do with the offspring they’d left behind, which, in a way, seemed the worst of all.

  I hadn’t gotten around to telling Jaden about my search. I hadn’t wanted to burden him when he was dealing with his mother’s illness, but the time had come. Not only did I need someone to talk to, but I was afraid he’d be hurt if I didn’t tell him soon.

  He was spending more time at our place since he was done with school for the year and the polo season had begun. I found him in the barn the following day after school. He was grooming Kermit and as usual when Jaden was present, the aisle was mysteriously busy with people. I went to Kermit’s head and rubbed the spot under his chin that I knew he loved. He raised his nose and closed his eyes, looking like the picture of utter equine contentment.

  I could see Jaden struggling to contain comments about my effect on his horse. He grinned at me, speaking his thoughts clearly with his eyes.

  “Do you want to come on a trail ride with me?” I asked.

  “Do I ever.”

  “I’m afraid you can’t right now.” Dec’s voice was terse.

  I spun around, startling Kermit, to find Dec standing with hands on hips before me. He gave me a look that promised I’d be dealt with later, then scowled at Jaden who, to my surprise, bowed his head.

  “Who are you riding, Sis?” Seth called from down the aisle. “Teri’s almost ready.” He ambled up to us. “Do you want to come on a trail with us?” he asked Dec.

  “No, I don’t have time,” Dec said, clearly startled. He looked at me. “So you’re all going then?”

  “Yes, all four of us. If that’s okay,” I said innocently.

  Dec took a quick look around. No one else seemed to be paying attention. “All right. Make sure you come back together,” he said in a low voice, making it clear he wasn’t fooled.

  Seth and Jaden silently bumped fists before we all got ready.

  “All this cloak-and-dagger stuff is getting old,” I complained once we were underway.

  “You can’t blame Dec,” Jaden said. “We weren’t being discreet.”

  “At least it’s a beautiful day,” Teri said. She was right, thankfully, since she and Seth had had no plans for a trail until Seth came to my aid. The day was warm for early May, the sky so blue it looked like something out of Disney, the greens so fresh I could almost taste them. I breathed in the moist, earthy smell of the forest awakening. I was riding Piba, and I stroked her chestnut neck fondly as we walked. We were lucky to live in southwest Ontario; its landscape of gently rolling hills covered by alternating fields and woods made for beautiful country to ride in.

  Teri rode her pony alongside me. “I guess Dec’s still not in love with the idea of you and Jaden being together?” she said.

  “Not exactly. He’s resigned to it, though — it’s the rest of the family that’s still hoping to keep us apart, especially Jaden’s mom.” I stole a glance at Jaden. He and Seth were walking their horses side by side in front of us and didn’t seem to be listening. “His mom has cancer, and we don’t want to do anything to upset her right now.” I hesitated. “And I don’t want to make Dec mad, either, because Seth and I have something else going on.”

  I was suddenly desperate to share our news. I halted Piba and hailed the guys; they turned their horses around to face us. Luckily Piba, Kermit, Winter and Picasso all got along, and they stood patiently with their noses together.

  Teri was waiting curiously, but it was Jaden’s honey-and-chocolate eyes I looked into when I spoke.

  “We found out the name of our real father, and we’ve started looking for him.” I probably could have led up to that a bit more, I thought as soon as the words were out. I heard Teri’s exclamation but kept my eyes on Jaden.

  Surprise registered on his face and was slowly replaced by a smile. “That’s wonderful,” he said quietly.

  “Is it?” I said uncertainly.

  He rode forward until he was next to me. “Of course it is. You’ve always wanted to know.” He put his hand on the side of my neck and leaned down to brush his lips against mine.

  I turned to Seth, smiling. For some reason, I felt much lighter now that we’d told someone.

  “So give us the scoop!” Teri said excitedly. “Who is he, where is he, and all that?”

  “That’s what we’d like to know, too.” Seth explained our search so far.

  “What does Dec think of all this?” Jaden asked. His hand found mine and I looked at his strong, capable fingers while I spoke.

  “We haven’t told him yet.”

  “You know Dec,” Seth added. “It’s all strictly need-to-know with him. Besides, at the rate we’re going we’ll be forty before we find this dude.”

  We used our renewed enthusiasm to call the Montreal Alfonso again that night. I planned ahead this time, thinking through what I’d say if I had to leave a message, but someone answered on the first ring, startling me.

  “Um, is this Alfonso López?” My heart was clattering against my ribs.

  “Yes, this is he.” He had a pleasant voice and
a strong French accent.

  “My name is Téa Everson. I wondered whether you knew a woman named Elina Everson?”

  “No, I don’t know this woman. You are looking for her?”

  “Well, no, actually, I’m looking for... for my father. His name is Alfonso López.” I cringed, bracing myself for his reaction.

  There was a pause. “And you think I am this man? How old are you, ma chère? And what does your mother look like?” he asked gently.

  My heart was beating so hard now that it actually hurt. I stared at Seth, vaguely aware of tears spilling onto my cheeks. It wasn’t from excitement that we might have found our father; it was more this man’s unexpected kindness that touched me. He called me ‘ma chère’ — my dear — and he obviously wanted to help us.

  I swallowed hard. “I’m eighteen. My mother was tall and blond and beautiful. She had cornflower blue eyes and she liked everyone.”

  “I would certainly remember a woman like that, but no, I am afraid I do not. You say ‘was’... are you not with your mother?” The concern in the voice of this complete stranger made a sob catch in my throat.

  I struggled to control myself, but my voice was hoarse when I answered. “No, my mom passed away.”

  “Ah, pauvre petite.” Poor little one. I remembered enough French to understand. “I wish you good luck in your search, ma chère.”

  Alfonso said goodbye quietly and hung up, and I gave in to my sobs. Seth put his arms around me and patted my back.

  “What’s wrong?” he said worriedly. “Was he mean?”

  “No,” I hiccupped against him. “He was nice. I wanted it to be him. I want to hear my father call me ‘my dear’.”

  Seth didn’t say anything. His arms tightened around me, and a hot tear landed on my shoulder.

  * * *

  I was glad for some upcoming horse shows to take my mind off the search. I was expecting big things this season, especially from Hades who, despite Dec’s prejudice, was phenomenally talented. I was convinced that if I could just persuade him to settle down and gather together his enormous body, we’d be winning everything in sight. And I felt incredibly fortunate that while I worked on training Hades I also had Marty to ride, since he was already a winner. I’d started competing on the smallish dark bay Thoroughbred the previous year, and I was excited about the first big show of the year. Until I spoke to Dec, that is.

  “I don’t want you missing school so close to graduation,” Dec said when I told him of my plans.

  “But Dec, I’d only miss two days,” I protested, “and I’m taking two horses.” I was a lot more concerned about missing a weekend with Jaden since I didn’t see nearly enough of him during the school year.

  “I’ve got you covered in the barn,” Seth assured me. He always picked up the slack when I was competing, so his statement was for Dec’s benefit — a reminder that work would still get done in my absence.

  Dec shot Seth a frustrated look before turning to me. “You’ve got the rest of your life to ride jumpers, Téa, but less than two months to finish high school.”

  In the end, my coach Karen talked him into it, by promising she’d make me study during every free minute. She didn’t mention that I’d be on my own on Sunday because she had a wedding to attend, but it seemed a minor omission, and I only had one class that day. I studied during the drive on Friday; the show was in St-Lazare, Quebec, almost seven hours in Karen’s car. The showgrounds were on a huge, flat, grassy field, now adorned with tents for the temporary stabling, and as I walked around to stretch my legs I contentedly drew a deep lungful of the fresh evening air.

  Saturday went well; although Hades was rambunctious in his only class, he still placed fourth. I was concerned about Marty, though. He was owned by a wealthy actor who had insisted Marty move up a level this year, and I felt as though the bigger courses were at the limit of what Marty could handle.

  That night was spent busily packing since we had to check out of the motel early in the morning.

  “I wouldn’t leave an ‘A’ show for anything less than my kid sister’s wedding,” Karen said as she zipped up her suitcase. “Will you be all right on your own tomorrow?”

  I looked over at her from where I was hastily stuffing clothes into my bag. “Yeah.”

  I still harbored doubts about Marty, and it must have shown because Karen smiled reassuringly at me. “Just do your best, and if he’s overfaced we’ll talk to Blake together when we get home.”

  * * *

  The next morning Karen dropped me off early at the showgrounds. Her groom went with her, so I had to do everything myself and was too busy to worry until I was warming up for Marty’s class. It was a perfect mid-May day, the sky an untroubled blue, and I tried to mirror its calm so that I wouldn’t transfer any of my nerves to Marty.

  We walked quietly into the ring, but as we picked up a canter I felt him tense, and as we lined up the first fence I knew the anxiety coursing through me wasn’t my own. He cleared the first vertical well enough, and I worked on building his momentum as we rounded the corner to the next line. Marty’s anxiety was growing, but he jumped the first element, grunting a bit with the effort, and I kept my legs strong on his sides to keep him moving forward for the three strides to the oxer. Flashes of fear went through him, and I felt them clearly — somehow I was more attuned to his feelings than usual, or maybe it was because Marty was feeling things intensely. I felt his hesitation, but also his trust in me. He made a huge effort and rounded himself over the oxer; I heard one of his back hooves knock a pole but it stayed up.

  As we reached the next corner I caught the full blast of Marty’s swirling mess of conflicting emotions, and running through it all, the golden thread of his trust. It was too much for me. I pulled up and nodded to the judge to signal her that I was withdrawing, and then walked Marty out of the ring while stroking his neck over and over. He had tried his heart out for me, and I wouldn’t betray his trust by asking him to do something that he couldn’t safely do. Because Marty didn’t care about money, and he didn’t understand about winning. He liked to jump, but he did it because I asked him to. And I wasn’t about to ask him to hurt himself.

  Marty’s owner was waiting at the gate, practically hopping with rage. “Why the hell did you stop? He was doing great!” Blake’s face was purple and cords stood out in his neck, a far cry from his usual preened appearance.

  I looked down at Marty’s sweaty neck. “He was afraid, and if we’d kept going I thought he might get hurt.”

  “I think you’re the one who’s afraid,” Blake said, loudly enough for several people to turn their heads. “You shouldn’t blame the horse just because you’re not up to riding at this level. I’ll find someone who isn’t scared to ride him.”

  I walked Marty back to the temporary stabling, not bothering to answer Blake, who nevertheless trailed behind me reciting a litany of my shortcomings for all to hear. As I was untacking he finally stomped off, still in a huff. Eastwood was a big show, and with hundreds of people standing nearby, I knew that word of our little spectacle would travel at the speed of sound.

  “Wow, that guy’s some piece of work, huh?” My friend Alex strolled up, grinning.

  I just shook my head, not wanting to show how near I was to tears. I started hosing Marty down, and Alex drew nearer.

  “Hey,” he said softly, “don’t mind him. He’s an idiot.”

  “Yeah, an idiot who’s going to find a new rider for his horse,” I said thickly.

  Alex put his arm around me and gave me a bracing squeeze, but he didn’t say anything. There wasn’t much to say since we both knew it was the truth. Alex was a fellow jumper rider; he knew how things were.

  After I finished drying and grooming Marty I hung out in his stall for a while, not being in a hurry to show my face after Blake’s performance. A rider I knew vaguely from back home found me there.

  “Hi Téa,” she said, looking uncomfortable.

  I sighed. I suspected I’d be seeing a lot
of that expression for the next little while.

  “Hi.” I forced a smile.

  “Um, this may not be the best time to tell you, but Katie had to leave. She got sick so they checked out early. She asked me to tell you.”

  Great. Katie was the friend I had planned to bunk with that night, so now I also had to find a place to stay, even though all I wanted to do was go home. But my ride home was the truck that was taking the horses the next day. I wondered if I could even find a motel room, as they were usually packed to overflowing during the show. I didn’t have much money left and didn’t relish the thought of calling Dec to ask him for some, because he was already grumpy enough about me missing school and work at home. I trudged off to find some motel numbers. I was keeping my head down, so I jumped a little when I felt a hand on my arm.

  “There’s no need to do the walk of shame, you know.” Alex’s hazel eyes twinkled. “I would’ve kicked your butt in that class anyway.”

  I didn’t have to force a smile this time. “You just keep telling yourself that.”

  He kept pace with me as I told him of my new dilemma.

  “That’s no problem, you can stay with us,” he said easily.

  I stopped and looked at him. Alex and I had been hanging out at shows for years, but we weren’t close friends. He was invariably nice, though, and I felt a rush of gratitude toward him. While some riders were probably already lining up for Marty, Alex was squarely on my side.

  “Are you sure your mom won’t mind?” I asked. Alex’s mom traveled to all the shows with him and managed all aspects of his riding career.

  “Absolutely.”

  He linked his arm through mine and led me to get my stuff. I could feel eyes on us as we walked — I knew that Alex had his share of admirers. As a straight guy in a predominantly female sport, he would have been popular regardless of looks, but with his lithe build, full lips and shy smile, he was attractive to boot.

  Alex’s mom was very welcoming, and after feeding the horses we went out for dinner together. His mom spent much of her time busily keying on her smartphone, arranging entries for upcoming shows.