Sarah stood, walked her bowl to the sink, and washed it out. Through the kitchen window, she saw the sloping backyard, bathed in sunlight that made the dew sparkle on the grass.
Later that day, Sarah told Richie about the trip. Immediately, he began to cry. “No! No, Sarah! Don’t go.”
“It’s just for a little while,” she assured him. She hugged him tightly and promised him toys and T-shirts. “Now, don’t cry. We’ll be back soon.”
He clung to her and let go only when she took him to her room to sit on her bed while she packed. He watched her as she moved around the room, selecting outfits, discarding others. What did a person wear to meet one’s mother for the first time, she wondered.
Richie lay his favorite stuffed bear on top of her things. “He wants to go, too,” Richie said.
“I shouldn’t take him. He might miss you.”
Richie shook his head. “He wants to go.”
A lump rose in Sarah’s throat as she gazed down at the scuffed-up, well-loved bear. “Sing me a song,” she asked Richie, forcing cheeriness. “One of your favorites.”
His voice trembled as he sang, “There was a farmer had a dog, and Bingo was his name-o …”
Sarah continued to pack for the reunion of her life.
Fifteen
THE PLANE KNIFED through a bank of white clouds as Sarah stared out the window. Below, the city of Los Angeles sprawled in a haphazard maze of neighborhoods and buildings, broken by dark lines of roads and freeways as far as she could see.
“Are you feeling better?” her mother asked from the seat beside Sarah.
“A little,” Sarah said. She had felt nauseated most of the trip, partly because of anxiety. Her wig was making her scalp itch, and there was now a small drop of blood staining the front of her blouse where the Broviac catheter, still implanted in her chest, had caught on her bra. “I’ll be glad when we’re on the ground.”
“Me, too. Four hours on an airplane is quite enough for me.”
Mike Lions was waiting at the gate as Sarah and her mother deplaned. He shook their hands and eased Sarah’s duffel bag off her shoulder. “Let me take this.”
“We have more.”
Mike grinned. “I’m not surprised. My wife can’t travel across the street without two pieces of luggage.”
It took another two hours for them to gather their luggage, get to Mike’s rental car, and drive to the hotel where he’d reserved Sarah and her mom a room. Once there, he ordered a platter of fresh fruit and cold drinks from room service. Sarah stretched out on the bed and sipped her cola, grateful for the relief the air-conditioning provided from the relentless California summer heat.
“Let me tell you what I’ve got,” Mike said without preamble. “Janelle Warren is the head of a small real estate agency that’s been very successful. As I told you on the phone, she’s planning to run for mayor, and from what I hear, it’s going to be a really tough fight. The man she’s trying to unseat has been mayor for twelve years.”
“You said she has no family,” Mrs. McGreggor said. She and Mike sat at a small round table across from Sarah’s bed.
“She lives quietly, in a modest house, with two cats and a parrot,” Mike replied.
Suddenly, Sarah spoke up. “I want to see her.”
“You will,” her mom promised. “You should get some rest before we go out in this heat again.”
“That’s not what I mean. I want to see her before I meet her. Before I introduce myself to her, I just want to look at her.” Sarah couldn’t explain why it was important to her, but it was. Somehow, she had to reconcile her fantasies with the flesh-and-blood person before she actually met her.
Mike tapped the tabletop while he considered Sarah’s request. “I’ve been shadowing her, so I’m pretty familiar with her habits. We could have lunch tomorrow at the place where she usually eats. That way, you could get a good look at her without her knowing.”
“You mean spy on her?” her mom asked sharply.
“Observe,” Mike corrected.
“That’s what I’d like to do,” Sarah said. “I’d like to observe her.” She preferred Mike’s choice of words.
“If that’s what you want, then that’s what we’ll do.” Mike stood up. “Why don’t the two of you get some rest, and I’ll phone you in the morning. If we leave here by nine, we can drive down the coast and be at the restaurant before she arrives.”
Without waiting for her mom’s approval of the plan, Sarah agreed. She fell asleep before the door clicked shut behind Mike.
The next morning, Mike drove them along a road that hugged the shoreline of the Pacific Ocean. Individual communities blended into one another, but finally, he pulled into a parking lot in a small downtown area. “Feel up to walking some?” he asked. “You might like to look around the city a bit. The restaurant we’re going to is a few blocks over.”
By the time the three of them had entered the restaurant for lunch, Sarah was so nervous that her stomach felt tied in knots. Her mom ordered her some crackers, which Sarah nibbled on halfheartedly. Mike scanned the menu and made suggestions, but Sarah was in no mood to eat. As it got closer to noon, the restaurant began to fill up. Sarah asked, “What if she decides not to come here today?”
“Then we’ll go by her office,” Mike said. “Relax. She’ll be here.” He was looking toward the doorway when Sarah saw his eyes narrow.
Quickly, she looked up. In the doorway stood a tall, slim woman with stylish, short blond hair. Mike didn’t have to tell Sarah she was seeing Janelle Warren. She would have known her mother anywhere. Sarah’s heart thudded, and her mouth went perfectly dry. “There she is,” Sarah whispered.
Mike nodded confirmation.
Sarah watched as a waiter led Janelle to a table, where a distinguished-looking man with steel gray hair stood and pulled out a chair for her. “The boyfriend,” Mike explained. Sarah thought Mike’s term an odd one to use for people who were adults. Teenagers were boyfriend and girlfriend—not grown-ups.
Sarah couldn’t take her eyes off her mother. She seemed so elegant and poised. Back in Sarah’s hometown, the women were so ordinary. Her mom’s friends wore sweats and sneakers, jeans and casual shirts to the grocery store and to PTA meetings. Women like Janelle, who dressed in silk and linen suits were glamorous and exciting. For a moment, Sarah felt dazzled.
“You should eat something,” Carol McGreggor said when the waiter brought their lunch.
Sarah ate automatically, hardly tasting the soup and salad placed in front of her. She couldn’t take her eyes off her birth mother. Every move Janelle made, the way she held her fork, the way she tossed her head when she laughed, seemed magical to Sarah. A part of her wanted to rush over and throw her arms around Janelle’s neck. She wanted to shout, “I’m your daughter! Your only daughter.”
Another part of her trembled in fear. What would her mother’s reaction be? Would she be pleased to see her? Would she embrace her? Had she ever missed having Sarah in her life? “I’m not sure what to do,” Sarah confessed to Mike. “What should I do?”
“It would be best to approach her when she’s alone,” Mike replied.
“When will she be alone?”
“Maybe when she goes home tonight. Are you sure you don’t want to contact her by phone first? It might be less awkward.”
Sarah shook her head emphatically. After having seen Janelle, she couldn’t resort to the impersonal use of the telephone. “Can we follow her when she leaves?” Sarah asked, feeling a peculiar need to be near her birth mother.
“That’s not a good idea,” Mrs. McGreggor said. “It seems sneaky to me. Besides, you should get some rest this afternoon.”
“I don’t want to rest. I want to be with my mother,” she insisted.
Her mom looked as if she’d been slapped. “It was only a suggestion.”
Before anything else could be said, Sarah saw Janelle and her lunch companion rise. “Look. They’re leaving.” Sarah felt an edge of panic. “I do
n’t want to lose her.”
“It’s all right,” Mike assured her. “We’ll keep pace behind her.”
Sarah could tell her mom didn’t want to do such a thing. Still, Mrs. McGreggor rose and tagged along when Sarah and Mike stepped out onto the sidewalk.
“Don’t crowd her,” Mike cautioned.
Sarah kept her eyes on Janelle as she ambled along the sidewalk. Janelle walked with confidence, greeting people along the way. The walk to her office was short, and when Janelle stepped inside, Sarah felt disoriented. She didn’t want to lose sight of her.
“Her habits are regular as clockwork,” Mike said. “She’ll head home about six o’clock, and we can be there waiting for her.”
“Perhaps we can take in a movie,” Mrs. McGreggor offered. “It will pass the time and get Sarah out of the heat of the day.”
Reluctantly, Sarah agreed. The three of them sat through a film, and as soon as it was over, Sarah headed for Mike’s car. He drove her and her mom into a quiet neighborhood where palm trees lined the streets and exotic tropical flowers bloomed on bushes and trellises. Sarah scarcely saw the lush scenery, she was so preoccupied.
Mike parked across the street from a white stucco house with a red Spanish tile roof and a red tile porch. “That’s it,” he told them.
Minutes later, Sarah watched as a car swung into the driveway and Janelle emerged from the driver’s side. “I guess this is it,” Sarah remarked, after giving Janelle a little time to get inside. Now that the time had come to meet her mother, Sarah grew apprehensive. She struggled to find courage to approach the house.
“I could go with you,” her mom ventured.
“I want to go alone.”
“If you need me …”
“I won’t.” Sarah stepped away from the car and walked slowly across the street, up the walk, and onto the porch. The scent of gardenias and summer roses mingled in the humid air. Her finger trembled as she poked the doorbell. From within, she heard a chime. Moments later, the door opened and she was looking into the face of Janelle Warren—the face of her biological mother.
Sixteen
SARAH’S KNEES SHOOK, and her tongue felt stuck to the roof of her mouth. Janelle gazed at her expectantly. “Is it Girl Scout cookie time already?” she asked with a smile.
Sarah experienced a sinking sensation in the pit of her stomach. Janelle didn’t even recognize her own flesh and blood! “No,” Sarah managed to say.
“Are you lost?” Janelle frowned.
“I’m S-Sarah,” Sarah stammered.
“Yes?”
Sarah silently scolded herself. Of course, the name Sarah wouldn’t mean anything. Desperately, she searched for a way to express who she was. “You knew me as ‘Baby Girl Warren’ when I was born.”
The color drained from Janelle Warren’s face. Her eyes darted nervously over Sarah’s head and she blurted out, “Go away!”
“But I want—”
“Get out of here. I don’t know you. I don’t know what you’re talking about. Go away!” Janelle slammed the door in Sarah’s face.
Stunned, Sarah stood on the porch, unable to move. She felt as if someone had hurled a brick at her. Her knees buckled, and she grabbed for the door for support. Suddenly, Mike and her mom were beside her, leading her away from the porch.
“What happened?” her mom demanded.
“She told me to go away. She said she didn’t know me and didn’t want to, either.” Sarah felt like a robot—her emotions were frozen.
“I was afraid of this. The shock was too much,” Mike said. “Maybe if I explain things to Janelle Warren …”
“No! We’re going back to the hotel,” Carol McGreggor said forcefully. “Now, we do it my way, not Sarah’s.”
Sarah didn’t argue. She felt foolish. The sound of a slamming door reverberated in her ears, the hostile, fearful look on Janelle’s face indelibly stamped in her memory. Go away! she’d been ordered. Go away! Sarah got into the backseat of Mike’s car, and her mom climbed in next to her. Even though the evening air was warm, her teeth began to chatter and she felt chilly.
Back in their hotel room, Sarah crossed to the window and opened the heavy drape. She heard Mike and her mom talking quietly. Then the door closed, and Mike was gone. “You tried to warn me, but I wouldn’t listen,” Sarah said bitterly. “Go ahead and say, ‘I told you so.’ ”
“I’m sorry, Sarah.”
A tear trickled down Sarah’s cheek, and she reached up and wiped it away. “She said she didn’t know me.”
“Sarah, I’m not defending her, but your showing up on her doorstep after fifteen years must have been quite a shock for her.”
“She hates me. My real mother hates me.”
Her mom touched her shoulder and turned her around, her face dark with anger. “Stop talking like that, Sarah, and listen to me. Your real mother loves you. I know that’s true, because I’m your real mother. I’m tired of your pretending otherwise. Why wasn’t I enough for you, Sarah? What’s wrong with me?”
Sarah blinked, caught off guard by the heat in her mom’s voice. “Nothing’s wrong with you.”
“Then stop treating me like a second-class person. As if I’m somehow inferior because you didn’t drop out of my body.” Her voice rose with intensity. “I’m your real mother. I was the one who held your hand when you took your first steps. I was the one who took you to your first day of school and held you when you cried. I was the one who was with you when the doctors diagnosed leukemia. I sat through the tests with you. I wept with you, prayed with you, stayed nights in the hospital with you. It was me, Sarah. Not Janelle Warren. It was me—I am your mother.”
As she listened, a jumble of childhood memories tumbled through Sarah’s mind, as if she were watching a speeded-up video. She saw herself in the hospital with lab technicians jabbing her with long syringes while her mother held her hand and stroked her cheek.
“I didn’t mean to be ungrateful.” Sarah hoped desperately that her mother knew she meant it.
“Ungrateful!” Mrs. McGreggor fairly shouted. “Is that what you think I want from you? Your gratitude? Grow up, Sarah. We are family. All of us—your dad, Tina, Richie, me. You belong to us, not by virtue of some piece of legal paper, but because we chose you, raised you, loved you.”
Suddenly, Sarah felt herself growing angry. “You never wanted me to look for Janelle. You would never have even told me that I was adopted if it wasn’t for the bone marrow transplant.”
“You bet I didn’t want you to look for her. I was afraid of her, Sarah. Afraid that she was better than I am, more interesting and exciting. Look at me. I’m short and fat and boring. I’ve been a housewife and a mother all my life. My family is my life and is all I ever wanted. Until today. I saw Janelle in that restaurant, too, you know. I saw how your eyes lit up. And it made me feel so … inadequate.”
Her mom’s confession surprised Sarah. She hadn’t expected jealousy and envy. “I don’t think you’re inferior to her. That’s not it at all. It’s just … I’ve told you before … I’m curious about her,” Sarah insisted.
“Curious is one thing, but this fascination you’ve carried around has been unfair. It’s hateful and punishing.” Her mom turned and walked to the far side of the hotel room. “All these months, I’ve felt so threatened by her.”
“How could you? You didn’t even know her.”
“I had this idea that she’d steal you away. What right did she have to you?”
“Steal me? She won’t even talk to me.”
“She’s stolen you, all right,” her mom countered. “You’ve spent the last three months consumed with locating her—and not just because of the bone marrow, either.”
“I need to know who I am.”
“I’ll tell you who you are. You’re Sarah Louise McGreggor, and have been since you were three days old.”
“No … Maybe my name is Sarah McGreggor, but I am part of Janelle Warren and my natural father. There’s a difference. I’m
different from Tina and Richie, from you and Dad. Why can’t you understand what I’ve been going through?”
“Why can’t you understand what I’ve been going through?”
As they stood glaring at each other, Sarah realized how deeply her preoccupation with her birth mother had wounded her mom. While she had fantasized about her birth mother, her mom had felt rejected. Sarah recalled Tina’s trying to tell her as much. “I’m sorry if I’ve hurt you. It’s just that the One Last Wish money seemed to give me a way to have everything—my birth mother, the bone marrow, you, Dad, Tina and Richie …” Sarah’s voice trailed, thick with unshed tears.
Her mother gripped the back of a chair. “That Wish money could have given our family wonderful things. But now, as far as I’m concerned, it was a curse.”
“How can you say that? It’s a ton of money, and it’s paid for all of this.”
“Contrary to popular belief, Sarah, money doesn’t buy everything. In this case, for me, it’s bought a boatload of unhappiness.”
Sarah remembered what she’d explained to Scott—that she wanted to know the truth, she wanted to trade lies and fantasy for reality. He had tried to caution her that sometimes the truth hurt and might be better left undisturbed. Now, she understood what he was trying to tell her, but it was too late.
Her mom shrugged. “At the time, we thought we were doing the right thing by respecting your birth mother’s wishes and keeping your adoption a secret. If I had known it would cause so much pain on both our sides, I would have never agreed to secrecy.” She crossed the room and flipped the wall switch on. “Regardless of how things were handled, we’re here now,” her mom said. “Sadly, despite the way Janelle treated you today, you still need her. Get your purse. I’m calling Mike, and you and I are going back to see her.”
“She won’t talk to us.”
“Yes, she will,” her mom said. Her eyes looked steely hard, and her voice sounded determined. “Whether Janelle Warren likes it or not, fifteen years ago she gave birth to a baby. Now, that child needs her. She won’t walk away from you this time, Sarah—I won’t let her. You need her bone marrow, and I’m going to tell her so.”
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