He put on his shoes and said, “Come here, Cath.”
“Why?”
“Because I want to kiss you goodbye and I don’t care that your daughters are in the kitchen. They expect us to kiss. They’re happy for you. Enjoy it!” Then he thoroughly kissed me goodbye and started for the door.
“Wait! Um, Jame, will you stay in touch? Will I see you again?” God, I felt foolish asking that.
He took a few steps back to me, leaned down for another kiss and said, “You can’t get rid of me that easily, Cath. Send them back to college fast. I’ll be back later. We have too much to catch up on. Love you!”
Oh no! He said the L word! That’s the way we used to end our nightly phone calls all during high school. What was he thinking?
“That’s the stupid, embarrassing thing I wanted to say to you in bed this morning.” He grinned as he walked out the door.
Marymotherofbabyjesus, this is too much, too fast! But that was also Jame as I remembered him. He knew his mind, and wasn’t afraid to speak it.
Me, on the other hand, didn’t have time to process what just happened here with Jame because I had two super curious daughters waiting for me in the kitchen. I went in to face the Inquisition.
Chapter 28
Curiosity got the best of me. Jame said he signed up on a lot of online birth parent/adoption search websites. So after the girls asked their million questions, we had a nice lunch at one of our favorite restaurants, and they headed back to their respective colleges that were only 20 minutes apart. I sat down at my computer and dared to hope.
The first one had all these feedback stories of adopted children finding their birth parents in 24 hours. Another boy found his family and he was a twin. A mother crying in her words as she thanked the site for reuniting her with a daughter given up 40 years ago. It went on and on.
Was this for real? Could it have been that easy? It seemed unbelievable. And did I want to go through all this hope only to be disappointed in never finding him? Or what if I found him and he hated me? My fears were climbing out of control.
And then there were my daughters. I had to consider them in this situation. What would they think of me? What would they think of Jame if they found out what he had done years ago? They said they liked what they saw of him today, but they don’t know him.
Hell, I don’t really know him. We had a crazy conversation and then fell into bed. Maybe he will hate who I am in my 40’s. Maybe I’ll hate him and his quirks and habits. Arrrg! Too much on my mind. Brain overload!
I read over the site information again. FREE REGISTRATION! Then what? TAKE 5 MINUTES TO FILL OUT YOUR PROFILE. I sat there for a long time debating myself. Then I gave in and started filling in my profile.
Who are you searching for? My child
Indicate the gender of the adopted person. Male
What is the birth year of the adopted person? 1985
What is the birth month of the adopted person? January
What state did the adoption take place in? Florida
When did the adoption take place? Very soon after birth
Have you had contact? No
Are you the adopted person? No
Then all I had to do was created a user account and that was it. It most likely would go nowhere but I took the step. This was me declaring I wanted to find my son, no matter what. Gulp! I hoped I was doing the right thing.
I went on another site. This one had a lifetime fee of $40. OK, maybe not a waste of money. This one asked for more information like adopted person’s name (I had that from the newspaper articles), the name and address of the hospital, birth mother’s and birth father’s information. And even the agency information. No wonder Jame was so frustrated. He didn’t know anything.
OK here goes nothing. This one was a national registry so maybe more people were on it. Of course Michael might never do this. He may have no interest at all in looking for us or meeting us. Sigh. I filled this one out too.
The doorbell rang twice late that afternoon. He still even rings the doorbell the same. Yikes! I am having these déjà vu episodes that I don’t know if I am in 2011 or the 1980’s.
“So your girls liked me, didn’t they?” Jame said as soon as I opened the door.
“Yes, they did,” I admitted. “Come here, I want to show you something.” I took him into my office and showed him the adoption registry site I was on.
“You’re doing it? You’re onboard with this? Cath, this is great!” He picked me up, swung me around and started kissing me all over my face.
“Stop! We still have too much to talk about. I need to ask you some questions.”
He sobered up immediately. “That sounds serious.”
“It is serious. Just come on into the kitchen, please.”
I made tea for both of us, calming herbal tea because this conversation might get heated.
“If I know you, Cath, you spent all day thinking of all the things that could go wrong instead of what possibly could work out amazingly well.”
“Yeah well, I know you are the glass half-full person and I’m the glass half-empty person. What I did was spend the afternoon with my girls, worrying about how finding out their mother gave up a baby for adoption would affect them and our relationship. I don’t want them to hate me or be disillusioned that I’m not the person they thought I was.
And Jame, you have no consequences if we find Michael, no one else who is deeply connected to you that this might change everything for! My girls and I are inseparable. After Sam died, we were each other’s lifelines. What will this do to all that?”
“I don’t have an answers, Cath. Your girls seem really well adjusted thanks to you I’m sure. What if they liked the idea and love having an older brother?”
“I don’t know. I’m so worried and afraid this will ruin lives instead of your rosy future of wow, this will be great! What it comes down to is that this is all centered around you. Again. You, you, you. That’s what our relationship has always been about, Jame- YOU! You want this. You’re doing that no matter how it affects anyone else. Full steam ahead and screw anyone who stands in your way.”
“Are you trying to get me mad, Cath? It’s working. You know how to push my buttons.”
“There it is again. This is not about my worries or my daughters; it’s about you getting mad because someone might be throwing roadblocks in your path. You’re a steamroller, Jame, flattening anyone and anything in your way.”
“So is that a bad way to be? It’s gotten me to where I am so far in my life.”
“Yeah, crying to me because you have no one and you’re so empty and doing this will help YOU. Not maybe Michael, not my daughters, not me.”
“And there YOU go again with all your gloom and doom, Cath. What if Michael has been searching for us because we are his missing link to who he is? What if Erin and Kaitlin are thrilled to have someone else in their family that helps make up for their Dad not being here? What if, Cath?”
I sat there thinking and taking deep breaths for a long time. Jame sat calmly and watched me.
“I think we’re both right. We each have our perspectives and we’ll just have to deal with them. But should I tell my girls now? What about my family? My cousins? Oh God, it’s overwhelming.”
“It doesn’t have to be overwhelming, Cath. We’re gonna do it together. You’re not alone in this. We can tell the girls later on if we ever find him and connect with him.”
“That’s another thing- the ‘we’ stuff. I don’t think we should be a ‘we’ like you seem to want. Sex always ruins our relationship. I’m waiting for the other shoe to drop. That you’re using me like you did in high school and then when you get what you want and you’re ready to move on, it’s goodbye Cath again. I couldn’t go through that again. You’ve taken too many pieces out of my heart, Jame. It’s too beat up and scarred to go through that again.”
“First, for the record, I didn’t use you in high school. I loved you. I was a selfish kid at times, I
agree. And yeah, the sex messed stuff up for us but we were 18, Cath, 18. We’re 45 now. This is way different. I never stopped loving you or thinking about you. Doesn’t that count for anything? You are the one love of my life that I don’t think I can live without. And God knows I’ve tried.”
“But you’re not coming back to me now because you want to love me again and be with me. I’m the key to Michael, didn’t you say that? You need something from me so maybe you’re confusing that with love.”
“I’m not confusing that with love. This cancer scare made me take action to try to make things right. To be with you again and love you like I didn’t all those years ago. To connect with our son if he wants so that he has answers and closure. And I thought maybe you might love me again. You’re alone. I’m alone. Why not?”
Jame should have been a lawyer. His arguments did make sense and I had no rebuttal. I did always love him and I wanted to believe he had never stopped loving me. What we had seemed to defy the years.
“Ok so what about these things? “ I ticked them off on my fingers. “Your cancer treatments? Where, when, how? Your prognosis? Where are you living? Are you working right now? What about your finances? What about us? Where do we go from here just the two of us? See? There’s just too much!”
“We can’t solve everything right now this second, Cath,” he leaned over and took my hands in his. “To answer your questions, I’ll give you mine. Will you come with me to the private investigator I found? Will you go with me to my next doctor’s appointment? And can we go upstairs so I can show you how much I love you and that I intend to spend the rest of my life making everything up to you.”
He was a steamroller and I’m a pushover for him.
We made an appointment with the adoption investigator for Friday. His next doctor’s appointment was already set for Wednesday. And we went upstairs and stayed in bed the rest of the day and night.
Chapter 29
We met with Dr. Hadler of the Cancer Institute of New Jersey at Robert Wood Johnson Medical Center. He had been referred to Jame by several doctors so as he explained the first steps Jame needed to take, I listened trying to take it all in.
Jame wanted me to take notes and write down the questions he was asking. He needed another pair of ears and eyes so he could process the multitude of information that was coming at us.
He had already gone through testing, blood work, and now Dr. Hadler discussed his upcoming surgery.
“Right now from what we have already gathered, Jame and Cath, it appears as a Stage II melanoma. Unfortunately it presents thicker than 4 .0 mm and is slightly ulcerated. It does not appear to have spread to any nearby lymph nodes, but we’ll know better after the surgery where we’ll remove the sentinel lymph node along its path and biopsy it.”
Dr. Hadler drew on Jame’s back exactly how high and wide the skin and tissue removal would be. It was a pretty big chunk out of his back, but if it saved him, it’d be worth it.
“After the surgery and biopsy results are in, we’ll talk more about any chemotherapy or immunology protocols. What other questions do you have?”
Jame went through his list: how long in the hospital, what kind of care would he need upon release, going back to work. I wrote furiously on my legal pad trying to get everything down word-for-word because I knew Jame would want to go over it in detail later.
“So Doctor, what are the survival rates for what I have?”
“Jame, I can only give you the research based statistics. There are certainly other factors involved such as your age and overall health, but right now it’s looking like a Stage IIC melanoma which has a 5 year survival rate of about 50 to 60 percent.”
Jame had reassured me that his cancer wasn’t that serious. 50 percent? That scared the hell out of me. He seemed to take it in stride, which was par for Jame. Nothing stops the golden boy, not even cancer.
His surgery was scheduled for next Thursday and we were given all the preparation information. I felt dazed as we exited the cancer center.
Over lunch I tried to act normal. Jame was jazzed up with plans.
“Ok, once the surgery’s over, I’ll be out of the hospital in what four or five days? I feel bad that I’ll be coming to your house to recuperate because you’ll have to be like my nurse, changing messy bandages and shit like that, Cath. I never wanted that for you.”
“I can handle it. And there’s no way you could go back to your apartment by yourself, so end of discussion. But I would like to open up a different discussion. Would you consider moving in with me?”
“Yes. Absolutely, yes! I’ve been thinking about that too. I don’t want to live in separate places. I want to be together as much as we can.”
Did I hear a tiny seed of fear or desperation in that deep voice of his? Is he a little shook up at the mortality statistics Dr. Hadler told us? Or is this just normal steamroller Jame, forging ahead because he wants to and he can.
The girls were coming home this weekend and I would tell them about Jame’s surgery and him moving in. They seemed to accept that we were in love and serious and so far no objections or problems, thank goodness. I didn’t need more to worry about.
Later that afternoon, we went over my notes from the doctor’s meeting again. Jame blew right by the 50 to 60 percent stats. He didn’t want to hear it. So I buried that deep in my heart and hid my worry.
“All right, so here’s my plan. I’m not letting you go back on your invitation for me to move in here…”
“I’m not going to take it back, idiot!” I playfully punched him in the arm.
“I want to stay here tonight because I think you’re a little shook up from the doctor’s stuff. Plus I want to ravish you all night.” He threw his arms around me and dipped me to the floor with a theatrical kiss. He always knew how to lighten the mood.
“Then in the morning, we need to clear out space for me in your office, your closet, the dresser and other places in your house because I’m coming back with all my stuff! I can’t wait, Cath, all day and night with you!”
“Yeah, well, we should both work a little bit too, don’t you think?”
“Sure, that’s all in my plan. I’ve stepped back for a month from my consulting projects for the surgery and recovery time. But I know you have interviews and writing set up and we’ll be working in the same office now sitting next to each other, with time-outs for a grope and a grab.”
I couldn’t help but laugh and get caught up in his enthusiasm. But to me there was a tinge of hurry-up-and-let’s-do-everything-because-there-might-not-be-much-time-left. I deliberately blocked that out of my mind. No way would I go there. I just got him back and I wanted to keep him forever.
Thursday flew by in the chaos of clearing out closets and moving in Jame’s stuff. He wasted no time in packing up his sublet apartment so it was only his personal things, clothes, filing cabinet, etc. He hired some movers and a small truck and by Friday morning it was mostly in my garage and we would sort it out over the weekend. As I saw his clothes hanging next to mine in my closet and his desk squeezed into the corner of my office, I smiled to think that Jame was working so hard on keeping his promises to me.
We were in the car Friday afternoon going to see the adoption investigator Jame had found when I started feeling a panic well up inside me.
“I’m still not sure about this, Jame. Are we rushing into it too fast? Shouldn’t we give the online registries some time?”
“No, Cath. And we are only going to talk with him and hear what he has to offer us. We may not even like him and walk out.”
But we didn’t walk out. Jack Masterson was credentialed, warm, understanding and honest. He understood my trepidation and concerns. He also understood Jame’s impatience and focus. We told him everything, including Jame’s cancer, our history and gave him copies of the items in Michael’s box.
“With all the information available on the Internet now, it’s usually very easy to find someone unless they’ve changed their name. All t
he young adults are on the social networks so you’ll pay for the hours my assistant and I spend tracking your son on there. I also will contact his high school, this local newspaper where the clippings came from and anything else I can dig up from his hometown. I also may hire a Florida detective who might have access to that county’s adoption records.”
“But it was a sealed adoption, Jack,” I said.
“Cath, it’s not too hard getting information from someone who works there, sealed or not.”
“What do you mean? Bribe someone?”
Jame broke in. “Cath, let Jack do what he does best and hopefully we’ll have some information soon.”
“You’ll be signing a contract with me outlining all I’ve said here today. Read it over very, very carefully. I do not guarantee a reunion. I most likely will find your son, but he may not want anything to do with this. You need to be prepared for that.”
Missing Pieces of My Forever-Heart Page 8