Tara wrote to Emily, “We have loved you since the day you were born.” She paced the house, cleaning her children’s rooms as if acknowledging their existence and being grateful even in their mess.
Molly searched the Internet for information and cut and pasted photos, forming a scrapbook of pictures. She made a list of Emily’s facts, one after the other, as if they could add up to someone she knew.
Kate browsed through every single photo on Emily’s page, looking for signs of Jack, for symbols with as much import as a feather or snake in the wilderness.
Deductions and assumptions were made. Emily had two younger brothers (But Kate had thought the mother couldn’t get pregnant? Had they adopted more kids?). They lived in Bronxville, New York. She had strawberry blond hair. Her parents were married still.
During the chaos, Kate’s Facebook message in-box finally glowed with a 1. Kate held her breath, and clicked to read the note.
Hi, I’m happy that I found you. I have always wondered what you look like and where you were. You have a beautiful family and your sisters already wrote to me. Love, Emily Luna Jackson. P.S. This is really weird and wonderful and I’m a little bit nervous, but my mom said I could write back.
Kate read the e-mail over and over, trying to find a hidden code, a Fibonacci sequence of words. What did Emily really mean? Was she okay? Did she want to meet her birth mother or was she merely curious? The questions rattled loose and dangling like wind chimes in a storm, dissonant and unnerving.
Fingers poised over the keyboard, Kate finally found the sentences she needed.
Most Beautiful Emily, I would love to meet you and your precious family, but I will leave this up to you and your family. Love, Kate Vaughn.
Notes and messages flew between South Carolina and New York. Emotions were tangled inside words read over the hours, every syllable analyzed. Phone calls crisscrossed between the Vaughn sisters. And inside this disorder, a new order slowly unfolded.
eighteen
BRONXVILLE, NEW YORK
2010
Voices echoed from the playroom down the hall as Emily’s brothers played Xbox and screamed at the screen as if it were a living thing. Emily and her parents—Elena and Larry—sat on the couch ready to talk.
“Mom, I didn’t want to make you upset. I just wanted to see what she looked like. That’s all. I’ve always wondered.”
“I wanted to love you enough that you never wondered.”
Elena’s legs were curled up underneath her bottom. A tissue crumpled and wet in her hand was the only sign of her tears. Emily scooted across the couch and hugged her mom, throwing one leg over Elena’s lap as if she were a toddler. “You love me more than anything. For sure this has everything to do with me and wondering where I got my looks from and stupid stuff like that. I mean, really, Mom, wouldn’t you be curious?”
Elena nodded. “Maybe so, yes. But now she knows you. She knows where you live and who you are. Her sisters know too.”
“So?”
“They’ll want to meet you. Who wouldn’t want to meet you? I hate Facebook.” Elena dropped her head into her hands. “I told you Facebook was nothing but trouble.”
Larry hugged his wife and laughed. “Nothing but trouble.”
Fighting over a remote control, Emily’s brothers tumbled into the room to find their mom, dad, and sister huddled together on the couch as if a tornado had rattled the home. “What did Emily do now?” Steve, her littlest brother, asked.
Emily looked up at her brother while reaching for a magazine off the coffee table, which she promptly and accurately threw at his head. Steve ducked and the papers crashed into the wall, knocking a botanical sketch crooked.
“I didn’t do anything. We were just talking,” Emily said.
“You made Mom cry.”
Elena stood and faced her sons with a smile. “No, she didn’t. Come here, I want to tell you something.”
The boys glanced at each other finally forgetting who really “owned” the remote. “What?” They asked in unison.
Elena glanced at Emily and then to the boys. “Emily found some photos of her birth mother and we were talking about that.”
“And her sisters and family,” Emily said, glancing over the back of the couch to make faces at her brothers behind her mother’s back.
Ethan, the older brother pointed at Emily. “Does she look like Emily? Does she look like a mushroom?”
Emily jumped off the couch and ran toward Ethan, who knew that if he didn’t escape, an Indian burn would appear on his arm.
“You’re dead,” she hollered after him.
“I love you, Sissy,” his voice echoed from the back hallway.
Emily shook her head. “See, Mom. We’re real family. Nothing can change that.”
Elena looked up to the ceiling with a smile on her face. “Oh, Dear Lord, where oh where did I go wrong?”
Laughter filled the room and Elena walked to the kitchen to begin preparations for dinner. Emily plopped next to her dad. “What do you think? Should I meet her?”
“I think you and your mom should discuss this.”
“Cop-out.” Emily smiled at her dad and poked his arm.
He leaned forward and placed his hand on Emily’s knee. “Baby, you know we’re your parents. You know how much we love you. If you want to meet the woman who gave birth to you, then you should. I trust you. This is hard on your mom because deep down she’s always been worried about losing you and this brings up all those fears.”
“Lose me? That’s crazy.”
“Not to your mother.” He winked. “And I suggest that you don’t even think about using that word with her.”
“I won’t.” Emily leaned back on the couch cushions. “It would be interesting, I think, to meet her. Just see what she’s like. It’s not like I want to hang out with her and be best friends.”
“Like a country you heard about, but never visited.”
“Exactly.” Emily said, taking her dad’s hand. “Exactly. I don’t want to live there. I just want to see what it looks like.”
He nodded. “Then you should.”
Emily settled into her dad’s shoulder for a hug. How could they ever believe that they could lose her?
nineteen
BLUFFTON, SOUTH CAROLINA
2010
The pier was empty that next evening as Rowan and Kate walked to its edge. Rowan carried a shrimp net and a bucket as twilight flirted with the river. Kate was nervous. After telling her parents and watching them weep with their own relief, it was time to tell Rowan.
They sat on a bench as Rowan untied the net. “Hell, I don’t understand how this damn thing gets knotted when all I do is put it in the bucket. It’s like someone comes in and tangles it up when I’m not looking.”
“Necklaces do that in a drawer too,” Kate said and took his hand.
He stopped his movements and looked at her. “Is something wrong?”
“I have to tell you something.”
“Why do I feel like this something is a thing I don’t want to hear?”
Kate tried to smile. “Oh, it’s good.”
“Okay, what is it?”
“Yesterday Luna found me. On Facebook. A month ago, she’d sent a friend request, but you know I never check.”
Rowan dropped the net and took both Kate’s hands in his. “This must be a relief for you.”
“It is,” she said. “But, it’s so much more than a relief. I want to scream it from the mountains. I want to fly to New York right now. I want to kiss her face. She’s beautiful.” Kate took in a deep breath and exhaled everything she knew about her daughter: her name and age, where she lived, and how many siblings.
Rowan was quiet during this word-torrent, untangling his net while still keeping his eyes focused on her. “Wow,” he said quietly.
“Isn’t that crazy? I mean; you can’t make up stuff like that. There are all these weird coincidences. Her last name is Jackson.”
Rowan looked a
way. “Her last name is Jackson.” He shook his head. “And you aren’t making that up?”
“No.”
“Sounds like this was all very meant to be.”
“Oh, I hope so. I mean, since the awful day I said good-bye to her, I’ve survived knowing that I did the right thing. And all the littlest things—like her name—are little God-hints that I did the right thing, that all is well even when it doesn’t feel well.”
“Have you told Jack?”
“Yes, of course.”
“So, you told him before you told me?”
“He’s … the dad.”
“I know that part.”
“I’m so sorry this hurts you. Right here is the reason I waited so long to tell you. I didn’t want this thing between us.”
“What thing between us?” he asked.
“The sad thing I see all over your face.”
“I want you to have our child in our lives. I’m not mad. But yes, it’s a little sad for me.”
Kate placed her arms around his neck and held him close, wanting to want him, needing to need him. Her feelings twisted and pulled. She was unsure of anything but the need to see her daughter.
“I know this is awful and hard for you,” she said.
“This means you’ll be seeing Jack again.”
“Probably at some point, but that’s okay, right?”
“I hope. I sure damn hope so.”
“It’s not about him. This is about Luna.”
“No, it’s also and most definitely about him.” Rowan looked directly at her. “I love you, Kate Vaughn, but this is about Jack Adams.” Rowan stood and shook the net. “It really is amazing how one thing can change everything.” He walked to the edge of the pier. “One damn thing.”
“I’m sorry,” Kate said.
“What are you sorry for?”
“Everything.”
He glanced over his shoulder as he gathered the net into his hands, readying it to toss. “Go find your way in this, Kate. I’ll be here for you, but this is yours and Jack’s. I hate it, but it’s true.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Yes, you’ve already said that.” He turned his back to her and tossed the net in a pearl-tinted circle that hovered in the air before splashing. “Go on, Kate. Do what you need to do, we’ll talk later.”
She kissed his cheek, but by the time Rowan had pulled the weight of his net out of the water and dumped the shrimp into a bucket, Kate was halfway down the pier with her back to the water, to Rowan.
* * *
Kate bent over the Mimsy computer in the back storage room and clicked on the refresh button of her in-box. Nothing.
Lida came from behind, laughing. “You gonna check that every five minutes?”
“Probably.” Kate stood and smiled. “Yep, probably. Maybe every two minutes.”
Lida smiled. “I would, too.” Then she held up a gray silk shirt. “Mrs. Plinson brought this back. She said it itched in the back.” Lida rolled her eyes. “Whatever. She probably wore it to a party and didn’t get enough compliments.” Lida held up a sleeve. “This right here.” She pointed to a small spot that looked wet. “That’s where she tried to clean off a stain, probably bourbon if I know her.”
Kate exhaled. “So how many times do we let her get away with this?”
Lida shrugged. “That’s your call.”
“The last thing I need right now is to argue with Mrs. Plinson. She’s been a great customer for six years.”
“You are too damn nice, you know that don’t you?” Lida asked.
“I think I’m too damn preoccupied.” Kate turned back to the computer. “Finding Luna—it’s like those first days after you fall in love.”
“I wouldn’t know.…”
Kate looked over her shoulder. “You will, and when you do, you’ll check your e-mail every five minutes. You’ll call me to talk about it over and over. You’ll rearrange your spices in alphabetical order just to have something else to think about. You’ll start ten things and not finish one.”
“Um,” Lida said. “I doubt it.”
“Just you wait.”
Lida handed the shirt to Kate. “Here. This will give you something to do.” She smiled. “You know I’m kidding, right? I mean, I totally get why you’re all scattered. This is a big deal. She’s not even my daughter and I want to know everything.”
Kate sat and clicked on her e-mail again. Nothing.
She turned to Lida. “I wonder if she walks to school or takes the bus. I wonder if her mom wakes her up or if she has an alarm clock. I wonder—who is her best friend? What’s her favorite food? Does she like one brother better?” Kate took a breath.
Lida reached down and touched Kate’s shoulder. “You’re going to make yourself crazy.”
“Yes, crazy.” Rowan’s voice filled the room.
“Hey,” Kate said and jumped up, hugging him. It was an awkward embrace, the kind given to a stranger, or a new friend, not a lover. Kate felt remorse seep into the edges of her happiness. “I’m so glad you’re here. What’s up?”
He shrugged. “I wanted to say hello.…”
“Hello,” she said, smiling.
“You want to go get lunch together?” he asked.
Lida slipped out of the room to leave Rowan and Kate alone. “I can’t,” she said, pointing out at the store. “It’s really busy and Norah couldn’t come in today.”
He nodded. “Okay.”
Kate’s cell phone, sitting on the desk, face up, buzzed. JACK—only four letters—flashed on the screen. Four letters that could hurt Rowan more than a hundred sentences combined.
Rowan cringed and turned away. “Later, Kate. I’ll see you later.”
Kate put her hand over the phone, as if hiding JACK made any difference at all. “No, it’s okay. I can call him back.”
Rowan stood still, quietly looking at her. The only sound in the room was the buzz of the phone against the desk. When it quieted, Kate lifted her hand.
“Do you want to go to Rich’s tonight?” Rowan asked. “He caught a ton of redfish yesterday and he’s having a big fish fry. You in?”
Kate shook her head. “I promised Tara I’d watch the monsters so she and Kyle could go to some parenting seminar at church.”
He nodded. “Got it.” He was halfway out the door when Kate grabbed his hand.
“Rowan. Don’t be mad.”
He kissed her on the cheek, as if she were a child. “I’m not mad.” Then he was gone.
Kate thought to follow him, to run after him and soothe him. But she didn’t know how, and the helplessness only made her feel worse. How long had it been since they’d been alone? A week? Two?
Since Emily found her weeks before, time had become odd and sporadic—moving too fast and then too slow as the days unfolded and e-mails were sent, slowly unraveling the years of not-knowing. Kate forwarded every e-mail to Jack and to her sisters. Through the years, while they’d been living their life, Emily’s world had run parallel, and now it was as if train tracks were finally converging.
During these days Kate had gone to her closet and dug out the hidden box containing pictures, feathers, and journals from the days of her pregnancy. She read her own entries almost as if they were someone else’s words. Had she really felt that way? The days after the adoption seemed distant and foreign, and then suddenly immediate and familiar.
Kate still held the phone in her hand, and when she was sure that Rowan had reached his car and driven away, she hit “return call” for JACK.
“Hey,” his voice was quick and tight; it always was. He answered every call and e-mail, but never wanted to talk about anything but the facts. Every time Kate drew near to any subject other than Luna, from his art studio to his law office, he steered the conversation away or said he had to go for something urgent.
“What’s up?” Kate asked, forcing lightness into her voice.
“Did you check your e-mail?” he asked.
“Only every five minute
s. Why?”
“Check again.”
Kate bent over and clicked refresh. “Oh…” she said. “An e-mail from her.”
“Yep,” Jack said. “You gonna go?”
“Let me read it,” Kate said.
My mom and dad said that maybe we can see each other at the end of this semester. What do you think? Love, Emily.
Maybe? Was she serious? Kate would have been on a plane within five seconds of the first Facebook request if she’d been asked. “Oh, Jack. Oh, this is amazing. Of course I’ll go. Will you go with me?”
“She isn’t asking me. She’s asking you. Her mom copied me.”
“I want you to go.”
“Not this time, Katie.”
“You don’t want to meet her?”
“I didn’t say that.”
“How are you feeling about all this?” Kate asked quietly. “You won’t tell me.”
He didn’t answer and the silence became long and uncomfortable. Kate closed her eyes and forced her mouth to be still, not fill the empty spaces he wouldn’t.
“So, I gotta go. Caleb is home. Have a good weekend, Kate.”
She didn’t say good-bye because she didn’t need to say good-bye. He was already gone.
Her hands poised over the keyboard, she typed six different responses with varying tones of positive agreement until finally she typed, Yes! You give me dates and times and I’ll be there.
twenty
BRONXVILLE, NEW YORK
2010
The clouds below the plane were meringue, whipped above the unseen world below and seeming thick enough to walk on. Staring out the window at the twilight-tinged earth, Kate marveled how time wasn’t linear, how it didn’t move in a straight line, but made sporadic lurches forward to destiny. If she tried, she couldn’t tell this story in a straightaway manner, from Jack to the wilderness, to his marriage, to her jobs, to the birth and adoption, and then to now when she would meet her daughter. No, not meet, reunite.
Kate’s mom had also come along, but she was two rows behind, reading an advance copy of Tara’s new article for MORE magazine. At first, Kate had decided she would go alone and then knowing that not everything turned out just like some made-for-TV movie, she thought she might need some help along the way. Nicole was already packed when Kate asked, knowing her daughter as well as she knew anyone in the world.
And Then I Found You Page 14