I did a double take. “For real?” The fall weather was turning cooler, and Dad loved that time of year where he could sit outside without feeling like he was frying in the sun.
“He wanted to get some fresh air. He’s all tucked into his wheelchair. Oh, and there’s a present for you out there too.”
“Present?” It wasn’t my birthday, so I didn’t know who was sending me gifts.
Nan shrugged knowingly.
I was all for presents, but I didn’t get excited about them anymore. The only gift I wanted was to hear Dad’s voice again, or a cure for ALS.
But the little kid in me ran out. Dad had his face tipped toward the waning, late-afternoon sun. He looked so content.
The present could wait. I circled the wheelchair to lean against the deck rail, facing him. “You look comfy. You need to get out more often.”
He gave me a brilliant smile. Then he typed on his computer with his eyes. “It’s nice out here. I’ve always loved the fall.”
“You know what we should do is see if we can set up medical transportation to take you to the golf course. You can hang with your buddies.”
We weren’t fortunate enough to have a van fitted for Dad’s wheelchair, but his insurance had given him just about everything else for his ALS.
“I wouldn’t mind going to the cemetery to visit your mom’s grave,” he said.
The last time we’d done that was when he was using a walker. He’d wanted to see her one last time. He didn’t know if he would ever get to again. “I would like that too.” Dad and I had gone frequently until he was diagnosed with ALS, and neither of us had been since that last time.
“What else would you like to do?” I guessed I should’ve been asking him that more and more. Argh! I’d been so consumed with brooding and crying and freaking out.
“Right now,” he typed, “I would like to have that tough conversation with you.”
Now that I wasn’t moving to California, I felt a little more in control, or at least open, and even excited that I wouldn’t be moving away from my friends.
“First, though,” he continued, “that came for you.” He glanced out at the bench on the other side of the deck.
My skateboard was wrapped in a big green bow. My eyebrows came together as I pondered why Colton hadn’t told me it was fixed earlier, but it didn’t matter. I could cruise again. Hallelujah!
I ran over to it, my pulse soaring as I salivated to take it for a spin. “When did Colton drop this off?” Picking it up, I examined every inch of it. All four wheels appeared new. The red-and-green shark design I’d painted on the bottom seemed to be polished or touched up. I was about to flip it over to run my hand over the top when I spotted some lettering near the wheel that had been mangled: Colton was here.
Maybe he didn’t hate me after all.
“About an hour ago,” came the computer voice.
He must’ve left school early, or maybe he hadn’t had a class last period. Colton and my questions dissipated as I practically hugged my board. I was eager to test it out. It seemed like it had been years since I’d ridden, and I was ready to feel the fall breeze in my face, music in my ears, and get back to catching some air.
As if Dad knew what I was thinking, he typed, “Go. Just be home before dark.”
Normally, I would have rushed out without blinking an eye. “Didn’t you want to talk?” I set my board down and returned to Dad before dragging a chair next to him.
I held his hand and read the words popping up on the screen as he typed with his eyes.
“I have a letter that I want you to read to me aloud,” he said.
“Okay.”
At first, I thought he was going to tell me to take his computer, but Nan must’ve been listening through the screen because she walked out with a piece of paper in her hands. I didn’t know what to make of the pensive expression she wore.
I gently took the letter as though it held world-ending secrets.
She sat in one of the other chairs near the round table. “Your dad has asked me to be present when you read what he wrote.”
I knitted my brows. She sounded like a lawyer all of a sudden, but I also caught a hint of sadness.
The paper seemed to burn a hole in my fingers, and I wasn’t sure if I wanted to read what was on it.
The computer voice said, “It’s okay, sweetheart. Nan will help answer some questions for me. She’s been well-informed on the situation.”
Situation? It didn’t sound like she would be my guardian—or maybe she would, since Dad wanted her there.
I took in a breath and began.
15
“‘Dear Skyler:
“‘I will never forget the look on your mom’s face when she laid eyes on you. It was pure perfection—love, adoration, and something far greater than I can articulate. That day was the happiest of our lives. We both cried tears of joy when we finally got to hold you.
“‘I wish your mom was here to see how you’re growing into a strong individual and a beautiful woman.’”
I stopped reading aloud as my tear ducts turned into Niagara Falls. Dad and Nan cried too. “I’m not sure I can go on,” I said.
Nan tucked a stray brown hair behind her ear and set her glasses higher up on her nose. “Try. It’s important that you read the rest.”
My vision was blurry, and I didn’t see how I could. After one more intake of air, I picked up where I’d left off, when all I wanted to do was get on my skateboard.
“‘I’ve struggled with the right words, on how to tell you. I never knew if there would be a right or wrong time. Your mom and I agreed we would wait until you were a teenager, but then the accident took her from us. After that, I couldn’t bring myself to broach the subject, afraid that I would lose you too.
“‘And whether this is the right time or not, you need to know. So please find it in your heart to forgive me.’”
Pausing, I rubbed the sharp pain spreading through my chest and checked on Dad. His eyes were closed. Nan, on the other hand, was staring at her lap, or maybe the deck. My gaze drifted past her to Colton’s house. I wasn’t sure why—maybe to let my brain relax for a second.
Swallowing, I pressed on. “‘I will always and forever be your father, but I am not your biological father. Your mom and I adopted you when you were barely a month old.’” I read that last line to myself again, stopping on the word “adopted.” I was adopted.
It felt like my jaw came unhinged as the thin piece of paper between my fingers began to shake. I didn’t know how to process such shocking news. I read the first four words in the last line again. “Your mom and I.” That meant neither Dad nor Mom were my bio parents. In turn, it meant I had another mom and a dad somewhere in the world.
My vision blurred, but not from crying. I was seeing stars. I whipped my head at Dad as a ton of questions hit me all at once. Who are my mom and dad? Where are they? Why did they give me up?
He was staring at me, tears flowing freely, with so much sorrow written on his handsome face. Nan seemed to be holding her breath.
I tried to speak, but my tongue wouldn’t work. My mom wasn’t my mom. My dad wasn’t my dad. The two people who had loved and cherished me, who had given me everything I could possibly want, weren’t my biological parents. Confusion spiked through me, wound its way into my brain, and stopped on a flashing neon question: Why didn’t my real parents want me? I didn’t know whether to be sad or angry.
Suddenly, I felt numb from head to toe. If someone stuck a knife in me, I wouldn’t feel it.
“I’m adopted.” It wasn’t a question, but a statement to get my mind to unwind the meaning of that word.
Part of me understood why Dad was telling me now. Part of me didn’t. Anger simmered deep in my gut about why he hadn’t told me years ago. Then what would you have done? Whether now or before, nothing would have changed. You don’t know that.
What I knew was that I loved the man sitting beside me. I loved Mom, God bless her soul.
They had both given me a life that was filled with love and devotion. They had given me everything I could have possibly wanted.
They are your real parents.
Yet I was curious about the two people who didn’t want me.
Nan cleared her throat. “Skyler, I can see the war going on in your head. Keep reading.”
Dad typed on his computer. “If you need a break, I understand. But please know I love you.” Then he sobbed, the sound of his crying echoing in the backyard.
My heart broke into a million pieces. I would never doubt his love for me.
I squeezed my eyes shut, my heart racing so hard I swore I was about to pass out. But I had to be strong for him. I could see how hard it was for him to tell me the mind-blowing news.
I stood and wrapped an arm around him as I pressed my cheek to his. “Dad, you’ll always be the dad I love. You’ll always be my hero. And if I could trade places with you, I would.”
Nan broke into a sob. Dad cried even harder.
I was serious. Sure, my mind was blown, but my feelings for him would never change. He was and always would be my superhero, the man who had taught me how to swing a baseball bat, throw a ball, ride a bike… the list went on.
Nan came over, extending her hand. “Why don’t I read the rest?”
I shuddered, handing her the letter without any protest since I was having a hard time seeing through my tears.
I sat back down as Nan brought her chair closer to Dad and me.
She swallowed before she began reading. “‘Your mom couldn’t have kids, and we tried like heck. But after several miscarriages, we finally decided to call it quits and try the adoption route. The process we went through was a closed adoption, so the records were sealed. The only thing we knew at the time was the girl was young when she’d gotten pregnant.
“‘When I found out I had ALS,’” Nan continued reading, “‘I contacted my lawyer, Mr. Wilson. He’d explained that he could probably get the adoption case reopened since I had a dire medical reason, but that it could take quite a long time. I told him to start the process. If I weren’t here then, he knew to contact you. Recently, he was able to get a judge to grant access to your adoption records. I always planned to tell you, sweetheart. And I’ve been doing some heavy thinking in the last few weeks. I’ve been so distraught over who would take care of you. I want you to be happy. I want you to make the decision about who you would like to be your guardian in the event I pass before you’re eighteen. You mentioned Nan and Georgia’s parents, and now you have the option of your birth mom.’”
“Do you know who my birth mom is? Or where she is?”
Mom and Dad had relocated south from New England eighteen years before. Dad had told me his company had relocated him, but I was curious if they chose to move here because of my birth mother. My pulse sped at the thought that she could be living right under my nose. I mean, the town we lived in wasn’t that big.
Dad glanced at Nan.
“Mr. Wilson hasn’t located her yet. However, if or when you decide you want to learn more, we can contact Mr. Wilson,” Nan said.
Dad typed, “Skyler, I love you so darn much, and your happiness means everything to me. No matter what you decide, I will always be your dad. I’ve loved you from the moment I saw you, and I will go to my grave with all that love in my heart.”
I popped out of my chair and threw myself at the man who had given me everything. “I love you so, so much. I have no idea how I’ll survive without you. But I know one day I’ll see you and Mom again when the three of us are flying with the angels.” The words tumbled free as if I were saying my last words to him. I knew it killed him not to have told me before now, and I couldn’t let him think I would just drop him without a thought because he didn’t father me.
Dad’s shoulders shook as he cried. My heart splintered into a trillion little pieces, and I couldn’t help but sob.
Nan came over and held Dad’s hand. “Randall, rest assured, I will be here for Skyler no matter what she decides.”
I flung myself at Nan, “Thank you.”
“You’re special, Skyler. You’re like a daughter to me.”
Dad and I had been lucky in finding Nan. I hugged her as tightly as I could. “I love you.” If not for her, Dad would probably be in a nursing home, and I would probably be living with my aunt or in foster care. He’d come close to making the decision of a nursing facility. He’d had three caregivers prior to Nan, but they hadn’t been committed to living with us.
She kissed me on the temple. “Right back at you.”
A cool breeze blew, picking up dead leaves from the pear tree that hung over the fence from Colton’s yard.
Nan let go of me. “We should probably get your dad inside. It’s dinner time, and there’s a chill in the air.”
He typed, “One more thing, Skyler. I would like you to make a decision on your guardian soon. I need to take Aunt Clara out of the trust. Mr. Wilson wants to make sure we have the paperwork in order before I go. Otherwise, my sister might be forced to take care of you, and with her new job, I would rather not put her or you in a tough spot.”
Nan handed me the letter. “So don’t take too long.”
I heaved a sigh as I neatly folded Dad’s written words. I had two choices—Nan or Georgia’s parents. I wasn’t about to live with a woman I didn’t know, blood or not. So what if she gave birth to me? She didn’t want me seventeen years ago. Why would she now?
Nan engaged the attendant control wheel on the back of Dad’s wheelchair.
“I don’t have to think,” I blurted out. “I want Nan to be my guardian.”
Nan’s expression was a mixture of happiness and hesitation. “Are you sure? You don’t want to reach out to your birth mother?”
Dad studied me, eagerly waiting for me to answer.
I tucked the letter in the front pocket of my shorts. “Doesn’t matter if I do or don’t. You’re more family to me than she is.” The woman who’d carried me for nine months was a stranger. “This house is mine when Dad goes. And I want to stay in it. I want you to stay here too.” Nan wasn’t married. She didn’t have a boyfriend. Her only family was her mom, who lived in Arizona. Her dad had died of cancer many years before—that was how she’d become a caregiver. She’d taken care of her father alongside her mom, and she’d “gotten the bug,” as she told Dad and me.
“Let’s just sleep on it,” Dad said. “See how you feel in the morning.”
I didn’t think I would change my mind, but I nodded. It wouldn’t hurt to see how I felt in the morning.
I thought to ask about my bio father, but I didn’t want Dad to feel awkward or make him feel even worse than he already did.
Nan drove Dad up the ramp and into the house.
I collected my skateboard, feeling somewhat lighter now that a major decision had been made. But with one problem gone, I had another one to noodle on.
16
Oranges and reds blazed through the sky. The cemetery glowed like something out of a watercolor painting. Sweet-scented flowers graced carved headstones far and wide as the fragrance floated on a light breeze.
Sometimes, sitting in front of Mom’s grave took me to another place—peaceful, tranquil, no worries, no problems, and just a wonderful sense of belonging.
I wiped off the ledge of her headstone before placing a single yellow rose I’d cut from our yard on top. I tried not to visit without one. Roses and maple trees had been her favorites, and Dad had picked out her plot specifically because of the maple swaying nearby.
“Mom,” I said out loud, “I miss you so much. I wish you were here to guide me through what I’m about to face. To help me navigate this crazy time with Dad and the shocking news that I was adopted.”
The leaves swished together, and I took it as a wishful sign that maybe she was with me. If she was, she would have said, “Skyler, you’re tough. You’re brave, and you can get through anything.”
I didn’t have her confidence. I didn’
t consider myself the least bit strong. I’d barely handled her death. She’d been taken from us in a blink of an eye, and now I was watching my other parent wither away, limb by limb and muscle by muscle.
At least I was getting the time to say goodbye to Dad. I’d never had that chance with Mom. That fateful morning, she’d left work before I’d even gotten out of bed.
I didn’t know what was worse, watching Dad erode or enduring Mom’s instant death. I swore, with each day that passed, it felt like someone was plucking my heart out, one tiny piece at a time, and I was dying with him.
I closed my eyes, clasped my hands in front of me, and prayed. I mainly prayed for Dad, that he didn’t suffer or experience pain. I prayed he would be around another couple of years or three or five, although he didn’t have much of a life. I knew he was fighting as hard as he could for me. But I didn’t want to let him go. I didn’t want to think of a future without him.
“God, if you’re listening, please take care of my dad, and make sure he goes peacefully. While you’re at it, can you also find a cure for ALS? I know my dad won’t see a cure, but for all those people who will come after him.”
I blinked away tear after tear as I glanced up at the beautiful painted sky, looking for some sort of sign that God had heard me. All I got was a rush of air from a hard wind that blew out of nowhere.
I ran my fingertips over Mom’s name. Candace Lawson: mother, wife, and a woman who had put her heart and soul before anyone else’s.
Her name began to blur as my thoughts took a sudden shift to Dad’s letter. “I will always and forever be your father, but I am not your biological father. Your mom and I adopted you when you were just a newborn.”
I wasn’t ready to know my birth mother or even my biological father. Heck, I wasn’t even ready to deal with the fact that I was adopted. Yet I had so many damn questions. Why did she give me up? What does she look like? Where is my father? Are they married? Do they have other kids? Does she think about me?
My stomach twisted at the notion that my own birth mother had carried me for nine months, then given me away.
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