by M. Katherton
“Was James an asshole? Like before all of this, before she got pregnant, did you like him?”
Kathleen just shrugged as if I had asked her if she liked cheese or pepperoni pizza better.
“I don’t think he was a bad person. I just think he and Vanessa were bad for each other. Both had big personalities, always wanted to get what they wanted, both a little dramatic.”
“Do you think he would ever want to meet me? I know he didn’t want me then but maybe he changed his mind.” I didn’t plan to tell Kathleen that I had looked him up and that he now had a son.
Kathleen pursed her lips discouragingly. “What would that solve, Jess? Does it really matter who your biological father is? You have plenty of people who love and want you.”
I shrugged, reflecting on my secret wishes to meet my dad. Maybe she was right. Maybe I needed to abandon the whole Hallmark movie idea of a happy reunion. James Owenby probably had his picture perfect life without me and I doubted he would want to pencil me in.
“You should talk to your mom about it. I’ll talk to her with you if you want. She’ll be mad at me for blabbing but that’s okay. You’re old enough now. You guys need to talk about it.”
“I don’t want to tell Mom.” I insisted. “She can’t ever know I know.”
“Okay.” Kathleen accepted though I could tell she still felt uncomfortable about going behind Mom’s back. “But let me know if you change your mind.”
I told her I would though I knew I could never tell Mom. I went to dinner tonight thinking Kathleen would give me the validation I was looking for to take the next step and reach out to James but tonight did just the opposite. Now I questioned everything. I thought he might be happy to hear from me and to reconnect with his long-lost daughter but maybe he wouldn’t. My past few weeks of searching all felt useless now. I didn’t know where to go from here.
Friday, January 18th, 2019
I spent most of the night alternating between crying, panicking, and contemplating my next steps until I finally drifted off around what must have been four AM. When my alarm went off at 6:30, I turned it off and went back to sleep. I didn’t have the stamina for school today. I would send Mom a text later that I had a stomach ache and ask her to call me in sick.
However, I woke up what must have been a few hours later to Mom sitting on the edge of my bed. I rubbed my eyes and caught a glimpse of the clock on my nightstand, just a few minutes shy of noon. Mom often came home for lunch in between showings and meetings and must have seen my car still in the driveway.
“Hey sweetie,” She greeted gently, brushing my hair from my face. “What’s going on? I got a call from the school claiming you had been marked absent from all your morning classes. Are you feeling okay?”
I shook my head, prompting her to feel my forehead. It came back normal, puzzling her further.
“You feel normal. What hurts? Your stomach?”
I nodded. I had felt queasy all night but not because of a virus or anything I ate.
“Poor thing. Have you thrown up?”
“No. I’m just dizzy.”
“You want me to cancel my next meeting and stay here with you?”
I shook my head, not wanting Mom to miss work for my fake-illness and also not wanting to have to keep my guard up the rest of the day. “I’m fine. I think I just need to sleep it off.”
“Okay, I’m gonna go downstairs and eat lunch. Do you need anything?”
“I’m okay.”
“Alright, just call if you need anything.” She told me, kissing my forehead before heading off. I felt bad lying to her but she couldn’t know why I had really skipped school today. I picked up my phone off the nightstand to find a few unread texts from Kathleen.
8:06 AM: you doing okay?
8:11 AM: I know last night was a hard pill to swallow. Let me know if you need to talk about anything else.
8:45 AM: just realized you are in school. Text me when you get this so I know you’re okay.
I texted her back and told her I was okay so she wouldn’t be worried or text Mom to check on me. I felt guilty for putting her on the spot last night. I thought having answers would lessen the guilt but instead I got information that changed everything. I had always assumed my dad wasn’t a part of my life because he didn’t like my mom but knowing he wished I didn't even exist absolutely hurt.
Mom got home from work in time to get Macy and Spencer off the bus so I didn’t have to. She came up to check on me a few times but I spent the afternoon alone in my room. Instead of getting lost in internet searches about James Owenby and bowling leagues, I half-heartedly watched TV filled with representations of happy families that had it all. I hadn't eaten all day so when Ross brought home a pizza for dinner, Mom encouraged me to come downstairs to eat. I didn’t feel like it and tried to play the upset stomach card but Mom told me I should at least try to eat a few pieces. However, as soon as I entered the kitchen and got a whiff of the pizza, the nausea flared back up and I gagged, grabbing the attention of both Mom and Ross.
“Oh sweetheart,” Mom sighed, taking my arm and guiding me to the sink, not wanting me to potentially puke on the floor she had just mopped a few days ago. I stood over the sink and gagged again but nothing came out.
“I don’t know what’s wrong with her. She’s not warm at all.” Mom confessed to Ross as she pressed her hand against my forehead once again.
Ross also felt my forehead and predictably got the same results. “Could it be food poisoning?”
“She’d be throwing up if it was food poisoning.” Mom dissented as if she had a medical license instead of a real estate certificate. “This is weird.”
“I’m fine. I’m just dizzy.” I protested. “I’m gonna go upstairs and sleep it off.”
Mom and Ross exchanged glances but didn’t fight me on it. I turned my bedroom light off and curled up under my covers, hoping it would deter any disturbances. Mom, however, didn’t give up. About half an hour later, after enjoying dinner with her perfect husband and two planned children, she invited herself into my room, sitting on the edge of my bed once again.
“Jess? Can we talk?” She asked, pulling the covers away from my face.
I nodded only because protesting would make her more suspicious. I sat up and she scooted beside me, petting my hair like I was a dog begging for attention.
“What’s going on, sweetie? Is everything okay at school? And with your friends?”
I nodded. School was fine. My friends were fine.
“Any boys?”
I shook my head. I could sit here all night and shake my head at her questions. She would never ask me if everything was okay with my biological father.
“Okay.” She accepted. “But you know you can talk to me if something’s going on. I was seventeen once too. Not that long ago actually.”
“Everything’s fine.” I assured, though my high-pitched tone hinted that I wasn’t and she knew it. She made prolonged eye contact with me in hopes that I’d crack. I didn’t. She then switched gears and asked,
"Have you gotten your period recently?"
"Yeah." I wasn't sure why she asked. I had been regular for years now and usually didn't have severe symptoms.
"Good. Just wondering. Thought maybe that was why you were sick."
"I'm fine. I just didn't sleep well. I just wanna go to bed."
“Alright, Jess." She surrendered, getting up to leave me alone. "But I’ll be in the living room if you need anything. Or if you want to talk about anything.”
I appreciated my mom. She was there for me for everything and understood about most things since we were closer in age than most mother-daughter duos. However, this was the one thing I could never talk to her about.
Monday, January 21st, 2019
I faked being chipper the rest of the weekend which thankfully shelved Mom’s concerns. However, I was in a sour mood at school on Monday and Kendra’s venting about how Chase, her on-again-off-again boyfriend from last year was now d
ating a freshman on drill team named Faith. When they last broke up in May after Kendra’s theatre banquet because he danced with other girls on the dancefloor, she swore they were never getting back together. However, just a few weeks later, she called me crying one night about how Chase hooked up with Alexis Hayes at a party. Chase clearly didn’t have much trouble getting over Kendra but she hadn't dated anybody since.
“He just wants her for sex! He knows all freshmen are desperate for sex!” She vented though I remembered her briefly dating a junior guy our freshman year before she met Chase.
Not sure how to respond to this, I nodded along, dipping an overcooked school cafeteria sweet potato fry in a mound of ketchup on my tray.
“I mean, she’ll probably get pregnant if she’s not on birth control. With Chase only using the pull-out method and all.”
I wanted to remind her that my mother was a teen mom before she further slut-shamed Faith but I bit tongue. I had to pick my battles with Kendra. She thought she was always right and would fight relentlessly until you let her win. Most of the time it was just easier to let her babble on and lead her to believe you agreed with her.
“She’s not even pretty.” She continued. “I mean, she has so many freckles. Ew. Wear sunscreen or get a better foundation.”
“Hey, that’s not nice.” I finally spoked up, feeling like insulting Faith’s physical appearance was crossing the line. I had never actually met Faith but saw her in the hallways and thought she was pretty. Besides, Kendra had bleached her hair so much that it was straw-like so she had no ground to criticize someone else’s supposed flaws.
“So? Chase can do better.”
“You don’t even know her.”
“Neither do you.”
“Have you ever actually had a conversation with her?”
Kendra sat back in her chair, appalled that I didn’t blindly agree with her. “Whatever, Jessica. You’ve never had a real boyfriend so you don’t understand.”
She wasn't wrong. I had a few short relationships in middle and early high school but had never had a serious relationship. It wasn't that guys hadn’t been interested or that I was repulsive but more so I had not met a guy I found worthy of dating yet. I personally didn’t think this was an issue as I wasn’t in any rush to have a boyfriend but hearing Kendra say it was so degrading.
This year especially, Kendra and I were on different wavelengths. We became fast friends our freshman year and hung out almost every weekend and got along well. However, sophomore year, our friendship plateaued as we didn’t have a class in common anymore and she spent a lot of her time with Chase instead of me. This year though, we seemed so out of synch. She had all her theatre friends that I didn’t know and I spent so much time looking after my siblings that I was never able to hang out as much as she wanted me to. While I had some other school friends in my classes, I wasn’t too close to anybody else. Therefore, I had to keep Kendra around if I didn’t want to feel completely alone.
Mom had to work late so Ross took Macy, Spencer, and I to Chilis for dinner. While it wasn't my favorite restaurant, after last week, I was grateful it wasn’t Alfredo’s. What was once my childhood favorite restaurant was now scarred by finding out my dad wanted me aborted. Therefore, I’d never been happier to be in this sub-par Chilis listening to Spencer’s story about how his teacher accidentally locked her infant son in the car at daycare and had to call the fire department.
Ever since learning my biological father’s identity and that he lived just two miles away, I found myself looking for him every time I went out in public. He and Caroline could be eating in this Chilis right now, making googly eyes at each other across the booth, completely unaware James’ offspring was in the same restaurant. However, after staring at strangers for what was probably too long, none of them appeared to be James or Caroline. Thinking about my biological father made me lose my appetite again but I didn’t want to further concern Ross so I cleaned my plate of chicken fingers and fries.
Kathleen called me that night after I got out of the shower. I shut the door to my bedroom and turned on the TV for background noise in case Mom or Ross walked by.
“Hey Peanut, how’s it going?” She asked once I picked up as if she had called to chat about reality TV or the weather.
“I’m okay, I guess. What’s up?”
She took a deep breath then confessed, “I just feel weird about the other night. It wasn’t my place and I feel so guilty about telling you all that.”
“Sorry. I shouldn’t have put you in that position.”
“It’s okay. You’re curious and you deserve to know but it wasn’t my place to tell you. I backstabbed my sister and I feel like I need to talk to her about it.”
“Please don’t. I won’t ever tell her you told me. If she ever figures out, I’ll tell her I found it on the internet. Please.” I pleaded.
Kathleen chuckled at my desperation. “Jess, I have to tell her. I’ll talk to her, tell her I take responsibility and it’s not your fault. I just wanted to prepare you before I talk to her.”
I sighed again knowing I couldn’t talk her out of it. “Can you at least wait until tomorrow? She’s been at work all day and probably isn’t in the best mood.
“Alright.” She agreed. “How are you doing? You holding up okay?”
“Yeah.” I replied. I wasn’t completely healed from Thursday but I was feeling a little better until just now. Mom would kill me. Mom would kill Kathleen. Instead of just being curious about my dad, I had to go behind my mom’s back and inevitably ruin my family.
Tuesday, January 22nd, 2019
I tossed and turned for hours, imaging all the different scenarios of how Mom would react once Kathleen called. She would either yell and scream or would give me the silent treatment for weeks. I wasn't sure which would be worse.
When I went downstairs a little after one AM to get a glass of water, still wide awake, I found Mom on the couch watching TV, one of her insomniac habits. I froze in place when I spotted her, debating whether I should run back to my room or just pretend I woke up and got thirsty.
“Jess?” She startled me. “What are you doing up, sweetie?”
The innocent question made me burst into tears. I climbed down the stairs and sat on the opposite end of the couch, not wanting to get too close to her because she wouldn’t feel warmly about me after I admitted to her what I had done.
“I did something bad.” I whimpered, shaking like an anxious chihuahua. She turned off the soap opera on TV and scooted across the couch and wrapped her arms around me, unaware she was about to hate me.
“What happened? You can tell me.”
“You’re gonna hate me!” I blubbered, unable to spit it out. Mom stroked my hair, only making me cry harder. The sweet, unconditional love promise only worked for things that weren't about my biological dad.
“I promise I won’t hate you. I could never hate you. Tell me what’s going on. Please.”
“The other night…” I started, soon interrupted by another sob. “When…when I went to Alfredo’s…”
Mom’s face scrunched in confusion as Alfredo’s was a family-friendly restaurant in a nice neighborhood and probably one of the last places I would get into trouble.
“I didn’t go with friends. I…I went with Kathleen.”
“Kathleen my sister?” Mom clarified, even more puzzled about why this was something to be upset about.
I nodded, tears pouring down my face. Mom stared at me awaiting further explanation but when I kept quiet, she got impatient and asked,
“Jessica, are you pregnant?”
“No!” I sobbed, figuring she jumped to that conclusion due to her prior experience of being a teen mom. That wasn't it though. She would probably be more accepting of me being a teen mom than she would be of me seeking out my father.
Mom let out a sigh of relief. “Shit, I thought you were going to tell me you were pregnant. After you were sick the other day, I’ve been so worried. Shit, Jessica. If
you’re not pregnant then it can’t be that bad. Spit it out.”
I took a deep breath, wiped my face with the sleeve of my gray t-shirt then spoke the words that would forever change my relationship with my mother. “I asked Kathleen questions about…about my biological dad. It’s all my fault. She said it wasn’t her place and she’s gonna call you but I wanted you to hear it from me first.”
Mom let go of me and sat up stiffly, completely blindsided. She sat silently as I continued to sniffle, guilt hitting me like a train. I braced myself for her to yell or storm off to her room but she remained still. After a few minutes which felt like hours, she calmly inquired, “what did she tell you?”
The question alone made the tears pick up again. I thought that might give her the answer she wanted but she patiently waited for me to confess.
“That he wanted you to…”
“Oh, Jess.” She interrupted, putting her head in her hands as if she had suddenly gotten a migraine.
“I’m sorry!” I clamored, regretting it all. Had I just been content with my awkward outlier position in Mom and Ross' perfect family, none of this ever would have happened.
“Why did you go to her and not to me?”
“I just wanted answers. You never tell me anything.” I croaked.
“He’s a piece of shit, Jessica. No two ways about it. I don’t know what more you need to know.”
“I’m sorry…”
“Now do you understand why I wouldn’t tell you? It does you no good. I don’t want you to even waste a thought about him. He doesn’t matter.”
“Okay.” I whimpered.
She sighed exasperatedly and got up from the couch. “Go to bed. I need to sleep on this. We can talk about it more later.”