Dear Tabitha

by Trudy Stiles

  “Then what is it?” She cups my cheeks and examines my face. “Tell me. Because this doesn’t look good. You’re on the floor, your face is puffy, you’ve obviously been crying. A lot. I know that you came back here to tell Alex about Emily. So tell me please, what is going on?”

  “This has nothing to do with Alex. Nothing at all.”

  She helps me to a standing position, kisses my forehead, and brings me over to the couch.

  “Then, what happened with Alex?”

  I need to tell her what happened, but I also need to tell her about Sara. Where do I begin?

  “He knows. He knows everything. All of it. He’s angry and confused, and I can’t blame him. He’s livid that I didn’t try to reach him and that I had his parental rights terminated without his knowledge. I’m sure he hates me, and I need to come to terms and deal with that. I don’t blame him at all for his feelings, but he needs time to process what I told him and decide what he’s going to do next.” I take a deep breath, and clench the letter in my hands.

  “What was his reaction? Will he fight for Emily? Will he demand a paternity test? What do you think he will do?” Kirsten fires off questions, clearly worried.

  I shake my head. “No, I don’t think he’ll do any of that. He isn’t that type of person, regardless of what I did to him. He just needs time. Time to process and time to mourn. He needs to go through all of the stages of grief just like I did.”

  “Then what?” Kirsten asks, grabbing onto my hand.

  “Who knows. He left me, again. I’m not sure he’ll ever get over any of this. I’ve just caused so much damage. It’s over. I can feel it in my heart.” I feel empty. The void in my chest tells me so much. It’s my personal barometer and I know that the words I’m speaking are true. It’s been over for a long time, but now, it’s official.

  “It can’t be over! He’s proud of you, remember? He admitted that he really likes the strong, independent woman that you’ve become. It can’t be over!” Kirsten is clearly upset and I don’t know what to do about it. She sounds desperate. “Tristan told me last night that Alex is still in love with you. He told Dax, and well, Dax told everyone. He loves you, Tabby. You need to be there for him. Help him get through his feelings and his loss of Emily. He loves you. Don’t you see? You two aren’t good without each other. And he needs you now more than ever.”

  He told Dax he still loves me? What? I don’t think I’m in the right frame of mind to even process this right now.

  “Kirsten, I was good for a long time without him. That’s how I became stronger, healthier. I learned to love myself, threw away the jealousy a long time ago, and I didn’t need him to do it. I did it all on my own. We don’t need each other. We’re stronger apart.” There, I said it. I think I believe it. But I’m still feeling this void, and I’m not sure what it signifies.

  She gasps. “No. I don’t believe you. Not one bit. He needs you to get through all of this and you can’t turn your back on him. Don’t perpetuate this cycle that the two of you have been going through for years. It stops now. Let him know that you’re here if he needs you. Extend the branch. He might just grab ahold of it.”

  This is crazy talk. How can Kirsten honestly believe that Alex is going to need me to help him through all of this? I’m the one that caused his pain. I can’t possibly help him get past it. Can I?

  “I don’t know. Really. It’s probably not a good idea. He left here so angry. He said goodbye and I felt it. It was final.”

  “Just please, tell me you’ll try to reach out to him. I’m serious. Please?” She begs me.

  I’ll humor her, but I really don’t have any intention to follow through. The ball is in his court right now, and I can’t see him suddenly coming to me for help in dealing with his feelings about his potential daughter. “Okay. I’ll try. But I have something more important to deal with right now.” I lift the letter in my shaking hand. “Read this, and you’ll understand what you walked in on.”

  She takes it and raises her eyebrows. “Okay?” Confusion fills her voice, but instead of asking questions, she lifts the note and reads. Kirsten only knows the partial story of what happened in Portland. She knows that I had a baby that I was forced to give up for adoption. She doesn’t know about all of the horrors that I lived through at the hands of Tony.

  After a few minutes, she reaches out to grab my hand. By the time she finishes, we both are sobbing messes.

  “God, Tabby. Oh my God! What are you–I mean… When are you–.” She stammers, crying and laughing at the same time. “Holy shit!! Sara! She’s in Portland. Your daughter is in Portland.” She’s squealing now. “Did you call her yet? I mean Marta. Did you call her?”

  “No. I just finished reading the letter when you came in. So I haven’t had the chance yet.” I’m afraid to call her. I don’t know if I can handle any more news. I need to prepare myself. I have a daughter! One that actually knows who I am. One that I may be able to meet someday. To hold.

  “Honey, you have to. She’s giving your daughter back to you. You need to call her right away!” Kirsten claps her hands together while she squeals.

  I quietly reflect for a moment. It’s been seven years. Sara has known Marta as her ‘mother’ for seven years. How can I take a child and break that bond? Does Sara really know everything about me? What has Marta told her? What did Tony tell her? Will she think I’m a monster for leaving her? Hell, does she even want to come live with me?

  “I can see your brain spinning right now. What are you thinking?” Kirsten asks.

  I can’t possibly answer all or any of these questions in my head.

  “I’m scared. I’m also worried about this sudden decision that Marta has made. I’m thinking about the possibilities and the consequences. But I’m also wondering how I could consider taking her away from the only home she has ever known. Marta is rich. Filthy rich. Sara has been living in the lap of luxury these past seven years. How can I give her the life that she’s been used to?”

  I pause and take a deep breath. “Kirsten, how can this be happening? I’m just so overwhelmed by all of this.” I worry about the damage that I could unintentionally do to this little girl. My daughter.

  “It’s happening! So get ready, because your daughter is about to come home,” Kirsten sings.

  “Sara’s home is in Portland, Kirsten! Don’t you understand? That’s her home. I don’t know if I can rip her from the only place she knows.” She doesn’t get it. I’m going to be the bad guy in this situation, any way that I look at it. Sara isn’t going to want to leave her family, her friends.

  “You need to talk to Marta. Immediately. Honey, let’s not forget that Tony is dead. I hope he doesn’t rest in peace. That sick motherfucker. Do you understand what this means? You are free. One thousand percent free! You never have to look over your shoulder ever again. Because he won’t be lurking, waiting for you.”

  “Today has been overwhelming enough. I’ll call her tomorrow morning, okay?”

  I won’t sleep a wink tonight. Her words sink in, and help me realize the whole situation. I don’t know what lies ahead with Sara. But I do know Kirsten’s words are true.

  I’m free.

  Free of fear.

  Free of lies.

  But can I be free to hope?

  Present

  Age 24

  AS THE wind picks up in the cemetery, shivers run down my spine. I place a pink rose on the headstone and run my fingers along the cool marble still damp with the morning dew.

  Marlene Treadway

  Our Angel

  June 6, 1950 – November 20, 1994

  I wish she were here with me right now. Would she know what to do? Could she help guide me through this?

  “Hi, Mom,” I whisper into the cool air. “I’m sorry I haven’t visited in a while, but I just got back to town.” I trace her name with my fingertip. My chest tightens as I picture her icy blue eyes that used to be so full of life. “The band is doing great and we just finished a two
and a half year tour.”

  Why am I making small talk? I need to get to the point. I gather my thoughts for a few moments, and then try to speak the words that I need her to hear.

  “I found out yesterday that I may have a child. A little girl. Her name is Emily.” I picture the beautiful little girl that might be my daughter. “You’re a grandmother,” I say softly. “I mean, you could be a grandmother.”

  Silence.

  “Tabby gave birth two years ago and put her up for adoption.” I try to suppress a sob. “I didn’t know, Mom. I didn’t know.” I let my tears fall freely. “She didn’t tell me. She didn’t want me to know.” My shoulders shake as I cry harder than I have in years. The last time I remember crying like this was at Mom’s funeral when I was just a kid. “She didn’t try to track me down. I just don’t understand.”

  More silence.

  “Mom, what should I do? How do I deal with this?” I dry my face with my shirt, and picture my beautiful mother sitting next to me on the bench, her arms around me, whispering in my ear that everything is going to be okay. I imagine her fingers in my hair, massaging my scalp like she would do to soothe me to sleep.

  “Do you think I could have been a good father? Or am I destined to be like him?” I need her to tell me that I would never be like Pops, but her answer isn’t coming.

  “I didn’t even get to say goodbye.” This realization hits me the hardest and more tears slide down my cheeks.

  “I wish she would have told me. Tried to help me understand why. I would have done anything to support her. God, I loved her!” I still love her. I never stopped. “Is it wrong to still love her? After everything she’s done to push me away?” I just need to hear my mother’s voice. I need answers.

  Silence.

  “Mom, please. What should I do?” I beg, knowing I won’t get an answer.

  I lay down on the bench and close my eyes, picturing Emily and her cute little smile. She has Tabby’s smile. Did Tabby know what was best for her? For all of us? Maybe she knew me better than I knew myself. She knew the type of man I was back then, and she knew I was in no place to be a father. Hell, I may not ever be fit to be one.

  “Should I trust that she made the right decision for all of us? Maybe she was afraid to tell me, Mom. Was she afraid of what I may do? Did she think I’d try to fight for my daughter? If she is my daughter.” I hope that Seth isn’t Emily’s father.

  “I wouldn’t have done anything to stop the adoption. Mom, Emily looks so incredibly happy with her family, the Finnegans. They belong together.” I shake my head at the irony of my emotions. I’m actually happy that Tabby chose well. She chose the perfect family for Emily, and it was the right thing to do. For her and for me. And for Seth. I cringe as I picture that asshole with her.

  “Do you think Seth said goodbye to Emily?” I clench my fists at my sides. Shit. I wonder if he was there when Emily was born. I fume thinking about the time he spent with Tabitha. Jealous of the love he showed her while I was away. Dammit, she was mine. She was meant to be mine forever.

  “I’m sorry, Mom. I’m all over the place. I just…” I look toward her grave. “I just wasn’t prepared for the feelings that rushed back when I saw Tabby again. And now, I don’t know how to deal with this loss that I feel over a child I’ll never know.” I look toward the sky. “Please, tell me what to do. Please, Mom.” I beg, but there’s still no response. She’s not going to give me any answers because she’s gone. My angel is gone forever.

  How am I going to cope with this? I could call my sister, but I know that she has her own problems, and I don’t want to be a burden on her. I can’t imagine how she would even react to find out that she might have a niece that she will never know. No, I’ll tell Reagan another time.

  Somehow, I need to deal with this on my own.

  I sit up and look at my mother’s final resting place. I stand up and approach her headstone.

  Our Angel.

  “I wish you were here to tell me what I should do. How I should feel. How do I move on from this, Mom? Would you forgive Tabby? Should I? God, I still love her so much and I’m really trying to understand why she made the decision that she did.”

  I’m desperate for guidance. Desperate for answers. As I touch her headstone, a soft, warm breeze comes from nowhere. It blows my hair to the side and it almost feels like my mother’s fingertips brushing against my scalp. I exhale slowly, close my eyes and let the warm air envelope me.

  “Mom,” I whisper. The warmth comforts me and I almost feel at peace. I see Tabby’s face behind my closed eyes. She looks scared and alone. I know what I have to do. I need to hear her out. Understand why.

  “I miss you so much, Mom. I wish you were here to make everything better. See you soon. I love you.”

  I walk out of the cemetery knowing that I have to find Tabby. I need answers and she’s the only one that can give them to me.

  She’s probably at work by now, so I head to the bookstore. I run through the thoughts and questions in my head to prepare myself for more answers. I have so many freaking questions! I want to know about her pregnancy and Emily’s birth. I want to know about her father, Kyle, and what he’s like. What’s Carly like? Has Tabby seen them since? What type of adoption do they have? Can I meet them? Can I meet Emily?

  I don’t want to scare her with my questions, or worry her that I’m going to do something crazy. Because I’m not. I won’t try to disrupt the only family that Emily knows. I just need to know these things for my own piece of mind. She owes me that much, right?

  I visualize my mother’s calming eyes and take a deep breath. I need to approach this conversation with a positive attitude. I know one thing for sure, I still love Tabby. I just need to understand.

  When I reach the bookstore, I peer in through the window. Kirsten sits on the couch next to Tabby who is clutching a crumpled letter and shaking her head. She’s clearly upset and agitated. Kirsten rubs her back in soothing circles. She hands the phone to Tabitha, but Tabs shakes her head and pushes Kirsten’s hand away. What’s going on? She must be encouraging her to call me, and Tabitha is refusing. Well, I’m here, so no need to pick up the phone.

  I open the door, which causes the chimes to ring. Startled, they both look up.

  “Alex. This is not a good time,” Kirsten says looking at me with concern

  Wait. Now I’m confused. I could swear she was just encouraging Tabs to call me. What is going on here? I get agitated and blast some attitude her way. “I’m sorry, but I just found out that I may or may not have a daughter who Tabby gave up for adoption. When would be a better time for me to get some questions answered?”

  Tabby turns toward me. “Alex, I’m sorry, but I’m dealing with something else right now. Can we talk later?”

  “Not really. I want to get some answers now.” I don’t back down or give in. I’m determined to find out more. I need to know.

  “I just can’t. I have to make an important phone call. Please, just give me a little while. Can you call me or come by later?” She grabs the phone from Kirsten and walks into the back office.

  I look at Kirsten. “What the hell? What is that all about?”

  She furrows her brows looking into my eyes. “Are you okay?” she asks and I realize that I may still have tears in my eyes from my conversation with Mom. She pauses and reaches for my hand.

  I shrug and rub my eyes quickly. “I’m fine.”

  “Okay, just checking,” she says quietly. “Listen, it’s best if she tells you what’s going on. It’s not my place. I’ll just say that she found out some news today that is shocking, to say the least. If she’s up to it, hear her out later. Just please, give her some space right now. That phone call is probably one of the most important calls that she will ever make.”

  Really? I turn without saying a word and stalk out. The most important phone call she will ever make? What the fuck? That should have been made to me a few years ago when she found out she was pregnant. She should have stalk
ed me until I knew. How can this phone call be more important than that? God, I’m so stupid. I can’t believe I let her blow me off. Today, I’m getting the answers that I need. And then I’m done. Again.

  Motherfuck.

  Past

  Age 19

  IT’S BEEN a few weeks since I embarrassed myself in front of Alex and the members of Epic Fail. The first time that Alex kissed me in the back room of the bar, I had a panic attack and passed out cold. Since that happened, we promised each other that we’d start out slow, take our relationship one step at a time. But our pull toward each other is magnetic. Whenever I’m around him, I want him to devour me. He’s been incredibly tender and tries not to trigger my panic episodes. I picture his arms around me. His warm lips on my neck. His body pressed against mine. He affects me in ways that I’ve never felt before. I feel it in my bones. I need him, and I can’t admit that to him or anyone.

  The door chimes ring, startling me out of my trance.

  I look at my phone to see that it’s three o’clock and my belly tingles. I already know who it is before I turn around.

  Alex.

  A smile plays on my lips and our eyes meet. “Hey, Tabs.” He looks down at my mouth and bites his lip. “It’s so good to see you smile.”

  My heart flutters and my knees almost buckle. He closes the distance between us until he’s standing right in front of me, our noses almost touching. He brings his hand up and places an ice cold drink against my cheek. I shriek from the chill.

  “Alex,” I say.

  He quickly kisses my other cheek and says, “It’s time for our iced-coffee date. Three o’clock.” His smile gets bigger and he sits down on the couch.

  This has been our routine for a couple of weeks. Taking things slow has been hard. Every time he touches me, I want to beg for more. But he knows that I’m afraid. He knows about the abuse I suffered at the hands of Tony. I’ve been as descriptive as possible without overwhelming him with the horrors I endured for so long. He gets visibly shaken when I talk about Tony, but he does his best to listen to me, to comfort me.