Stop! Stop thinking about him! Candace dug her fingernails into her scalp trying to bleed the thoughts of Ian from her mind. Alleles . . . dominant alleles . . .
“So you see . . . it’s impossible for two people with blue eyes to have a child with brown eyes because brown is dominant and blue is recessive,” Ms. West pointed out on the chart, her ring finger slightly elevated above the rest.
Wait. What? Candace thought. She must’ve missed something there. Two blue-eyed people can’t have a brown-eyed kid? That’s not true. Both of her parents had blue eyes and she had brown. Had she found a flaw in the curriculum? Was Ms. West so busy planning her wedding that she hadn’t done her research?
Candace raised her hand with confidence.
“Yes, Candace?”
“That’s not true. Both my parents have blue eyes and I have brown.” When Ms. West paused, Candace initially thought she had her.
“Are you sure about their eye color? Because biologically speaking, that’s not possible.”
From the back of the room, career goof-off and chronic attention-seeker Joey Jones blurted out, “Maybe you’re adopted!” Laughter erupted from half of the students. The other half rolled their eyes, determined not to encourage Joey. Candace, hiding embarrassment with attitude, shot Joey a poisonous look. So did Avery.
Candace realized she hadn’t seen her father in almost a month but she was one hundred percent sure he had blue eyes. So did her mother. The book, or Ms. West, or the state of California’s Department of Education was wrong. But now that everyone was staring at her, and Ms. West was challenging her claim, Candace knew she had to substantiate it.
“Just like sometimes babies are born with blue eyes and then they turn a different color later on. Right?” Candace said with a little attitude, refusing to abandon her position and give Joey the last word. Her neighbors Colin and Sadie had four kids, and when they brought the last one home around Christmastime, Candace, Andrew, and their mother had gone over to see the baby and bring the family a lasagna. Candace had been sitting right there, holding the tiny-headed infant in her lap, when her mom and Sadie had discussed how the baby’s eye color would change. Boo-yah, Ms. West. Take that.
“That can happen,” Ms. West responded carefully. “But it has nothing to do with recessive genes. Caucasian babies are often born with blue eyes but that’s just because their irises may gain more pigment as they develop.”
Before Candace could respond, Joey blurted out, “You’re totally adopted, Candy!” The students that had laughed before, laughed even harder. Candace felt her face turn crimson.
“That’s enough,” Ms. West warned. “Let’s get back to the lesson.”
Candace could sense the lingering stares as the fiery red humiliation tried to push through her skin and escape through her pores. Why in the world did she say that? Rule number one: Never reveal any personal information in a classroom setting. Rule number two: She couldn’t remember the second rule, but it wasn’t important now anyway. She’d have to spend the next several months quelling rumors she’d been adopted. Between Ian and this, it was too much. Too much for one day. Candace slammed her book shut and jumped to her feet.
“What you’re teaching is a lie!” Candace yelled out, scooping up her papers and book. “I’m not gonna sit here and listen to someone who doesn’t know what the hell she’s talking about!” By the time the last word was out, Candace was halfway to the door. She didn’t even notice the stunned silence that fell over the room or the shocked look on Ms. West’s face. She didn’t notice Avery, who started to stand up and follow her until Ms. West put up a hand signaling to let her go. All Candace cared about was getting the hell out of there. She yanked open the door, stalked out of the room, and left the entire ordeal behind her.
Her hands were shaking so badly by the time she made it to her locker, it took two tries at the combination before Candace could open it and shove her books inside. Tears began to well in her eyes as the anger flooded through her: anger at herself for having another outburst in class, anger at Joey Jones for being a class-A jerk, and anger at Ian for choosing a five-ten sophomore over her. All she wanted was to be far away from all of it. If only she could walk out of the school and never, ever come back.
Tugging hard at the paisley print straps of her backpack, Candace crossed the campus to the student lot where her red Honda was parked, without taking her eyes off the ground. She didn’t want to see or talk to anyone. All she wanted to do was drive as far away as her two-door Accord would take her. But when she stuffed her key in the ignition and turned it hard, she could hear the engine sputter without turning over.
“Damn it to hell!” she screamed, as she smacked her palms repeatedly on the steering wheel. “I hate my life!”
She pulled the key out and tried again. This time the engine coughed briefly before firing up. Throwing the transmission into reverse, Candace stepped on the gas, causing her Honda to lurch backward, barely missing the bumper of the car parked behind her. With a squeal of her tires, Candace was out of the lot and on her way home to confront the one woman who knew the truth—her mother.
Two
An Untimely Truth
Candace threw open the door and marched past the stairs, through the spotless living room, and like a whirlwind, entered the kitchen where Andrew was placing frozen chicken nuggets onto a baking sheet. He looked up, almost frightened.
“Where’s Mom?!”
“I’m right here, honey.” Candace’s mother, Shannon, hurried into the room from the hallway, concerned by her daughter’s tone. “What’s wrong?” Shannon was still wiping her petite hands on the plush gray towel that hung in the powder room.
“I hate school! I’m dropping out!” Candace said as she heaved her backpack onto the counter.
“Can anyone say PMS?” Andrew muttered, taking advantage of any opportunity to tease his sister. Candace ignored him. His quips were the least of her problems.
“What happened, sweetie?” Her mother set the towel aside, her angular chin tilting slightly to the left the way it always did when she was worried.
“I got into an argument with stupid Ms. West! But it wasn’t just her. It was the whole class!” Candace could tell from her mother’s reaction that she was secretly hoping her daughter didn’t get expelled. They both knew it wasn’t beyond the realm of possibility.
“None of the stuff she was teaching was true! It got out of control and I called her a liar and walked out.”
Andrew let his jaw drop, intentionally being dramatic. “You called your teacher a liar in front of the class?!”
Candace pretended not to hear him. She was genuinely upset, and Andrew had a hard time taking anything seriously. “It was terrible.”
“Slow down,” her mother said, stepping closer. “Tell me what happened.”
Candace relayed the story about how Ms. West kept saying it was impossible for two blue-eyed parents to have a brown-eyed daughter and how Joey made some wisecrack about how she was adopted.
“So I said that a lot of babies are born with blue eyes and then they turn brown and she said that has to do with their eyeballs developing and not genetics and she’s wrong! Right?!”
As she spoke, Candace saw her mother pick up the towel she’d just put down and nervously dry her hands. When she finished asking the question, her mom was silent. “What I said is true, isn’t it?” Candace asked with increasing concern.
Her mom finally nodded. “I suppose it is.”
“Well that has to be it, because I’m not adopted!” Candace announced it as if the mere declaration could make it true. But deep down, the question had blazed inside her brain the entire drive home. What if that idiot Joey was right and she really was adopted? What if she’d lived her whole life believing that Shannon and Kurt were her biological parents and it turned out they’d been stringing her along with seventeen years of lies?
Candace could see the pain in her mother’s eyes, and when her mother finally looked down at t
he countertop and bit her bottom lip, Candace involuntarily stepped back, putting distance between them.
“Oh my god. I’m not, am I?”
As Candace uttered the question, she already knew from her mother’s reaction that her fears were about to come true. Still, she needed to hear it for herself.
Candace gasped as her mom abruptly walked out of the room. She turned to Andrew, who just stared back at her in confused silence. This was unusual behavior for her mother and both of them knew it. Shannon’s worst fault was how she dealt with difficult situations; she became irrationally defensive. And that was when she was right! When she was wrong, she could rarely admit it. Her temper would flare and she’d say things she didn’t mean and later regretted. Her mother exercised self-control with her children, but they were the only two immune.
Shannon’s temper had been a point of contention with their father. He’d been the target of their mom’s frequent outbursts and, Candace observed that over time, that caused their dad to work more and more. He took on more transatlantic flights, which kept him out of the house for longer periods. It may have given both her parents a reprieve from each other, but it fed their mom’s complaints about their father’s waning involvement with his family. Those late-night arguments in angry whispers that Candace would catch snippets of on her way to the bathroom did little to entice their dad to spend more time at home. Candace quickly flashed back to when she found out her parents were getting a divorce.
In October of the previous year, Candace’s father came home from a long flight from Hong Kong and went to bed. The next day, as he was driving Candace to school, he was completely silent. Normally he listened to talk radio in the morning, chuckling to himself and throwing a grin to Candace each time the show’s hosts made some witty little quip. But on that particular day, he hadn’t even turned it on. Instead, he’d stared through the windshield preoccupied, his square jaw taut. Candace knew something wasn’t right. As he pulled up to the curb to let her out, she hesitated.
“Everything okay, Dad?” she asked.
“Have you ever heard that saying ‘The darkest time of night is right before the dawn’?” he responded, looking her straight in the eye. Candace had never heard that saying before and wasn’t absolutely sure what it meant. She nodded anyway, hoping he’d just tell her what was wrong.
“Even when things seem bad in the moment, or . . . things change and it feels like they’re changing for the worst, that’s when new and better things usually happen. Does that make sense?”
“Not really. That’s kinda vague,” Candace said honestly.
“Do you remember when you were nine and you really wanted to go to summer camp but then you fell off your bike and sprained your wrist and couldn’t go?” he asked, and she nodded. “You were so upset about missing camp and having to stay home but . . . because you were home, we ended up taking you to the concert in the park and that’s where you found that man’s wallet and turned it in and he gave you a hundred dollars as a reward. Remember?”
“What does any of this have to do with right now?” Candace’s heart was still in her throat, waiting for her father to tell her what was really on his mind.
“I’m just saying that sometimes things don’t turn out the way we think they will, but it’s still okay. That’s all I’m saying. It’s just something to keep in mind as you go through your day and through your life. I’m going to try to keep it in mind too.” He looked down after he said it.
Candace had always felt a special connection to her father. She could tell in this moment that whatever was weighing on his mind was very, very heavy.
“Is there something you want to tell me?” It was the same thing he always said to her when she seemed stressed.
Her father’s tense features relaxed a little, and he squeezed her arm lovingly. “No, honey. I just want you to always keep an open mind.”
She decided not to press. That tactic never worked on her father. Candace had seen his reaction when her mother kept digging at him to talk when he didn’t want to. One of the reasons her father shared important things with her was because she was able to do what her mom couldn’t seem to do—just listen. As Candace got out of the car, that familiar feeling of not belonging was stronger than ever. She wasn’t sure what her dad was talking about or what unexpected, seemingly bad but potentially good thing was about to happen, but whatever it was, she was convinced that being at school was a waste of time.
Later that night, when they all sat down at the dinner table over Chinese takeout, Candace found out what the ambiguous discussion with her father was all about.
“So, your mother and I have something to tell you,” her dad uttered. Andrew, totally oblivious to their father’s rigid tone, looked up from his kung pao chicken with happy anticipation.
“You’re getting a divorce, aren’t you?” Candace asked flatly. The moment of silence afterward seemed to hover over the table like a thunderhead. Andrew’s expression was the only one that changed.
“Wait, what?” he asked. “Candy’s not right, is she?”
Their mother, unable to keep her emotions in check, looked to the ceiling and dabbed her eye with the corner of her napkin.
“We are,” their dad said softly. “We’ve discussed it and we’re both certain that it’s the best thing for everyone.”
An unexpected wave of relief washed over Candace as tears formed in Andrew’s eyes.
“Please don’t,” Andrew begged, fighting back the desperation as he tried to reason with his parents. “I want you to stay together.” Andrew’s words hung in the air. Her mother and father just looked down, neither willing to answer.
Candace wasn’t particularly stunned by the news. She was quite aware of the fact that her parents’ relationship had been strained for a long time. Neither one of them was happy. The moment her dad would walk in the door, her mom would start bitching. Now it had finally happened. Her mother had driven her father to leave. That’s what her father had been trying to tell her to keep an open mind about earlier. She felt completely detached from the situation as she observed her little brother pleading his case. She sort of tuned the whole thing out, lost in her own thoughts about the logistics of having parents that didn’t reside under the same roof.
As Andrew abruptly got up and marched to his room, their mother followed him. Candace, now alone with her dad, looked over at him. She could tell by the way he was running his hands through his thick hair that he felt conflicted. He didn’t speak.
“Can I live with you?” Candace asked. Kurt turned to her, surprised.
“You mean, instead of with your mom?”
Candace nodded, assuming he’d agree without hesitating. Instead, he paused.
“Your mother and I will need to work out the details, but we’re both going to be just as much a part of your lives as we’ve always been.”
“She said I have to stay here, didn’t she?” Candace pressed, sure that her mother was using her as a pawn to punish her father.
“No, but it does make sense, Candy. Your school’s here. And I’m gone all the time for work.”
“But Mom and I fight all the time,” Candace said, surprising herself at how steady her voice was. The truth was, she felt no emotion at all. It was as if all of this was happening to someone else.
“I think . . .” her father said, and ran his forefinger and thumb around his mouth slowly. “I think things will get better between you two without me here. Our relationship has created a lot of stress that I’m sure has spilled over onto you and Andrew.”
“What does that even mean? Are you saying you don’t want me?”
“Not at all,” he said sternly. “But your mother feels that this is the best environment for you, and I agree with her.” Of course she did, Candace thought. How could her mother keep control of Candace’s life if Candace was living with her dad?
Candace looked down at the greasy egg roll and bits of chicken that sat, untouched, on her plate. They’d ordered the s
ame Chinese takeout a million times from the little Mandarin restaurant that sat dead center in the middle of a cheesy strip mall at the edge of their neighborhood. They’d sat at their table a million times as a family, talking about Andrew’s latest achievement or the movie set her mother was working on or some crazy first-class passenger on her dad’s most recent flight. A million mundane conversations over barely above-average egg foo yong and broccoli beef. And now, here that food was, the backdrop to one of the most life-altering conversations her family had ever had. Didn’t an announcement this monumental deserve something a little more special? Maybe not. Maybe this is how life is, Candace thought. Major life changes happening over boring, sticky white rice. She pictured Mr. Lee, who owned the Chinese restaurant. Did he ever suspect as he was standing in his cramped little kitchen, sweating under a white paper hat as he stir-fried their vegetables in his oversize wok, that the meal he was making might be the last one her family ever had together at the same table? Would he be flattered that they chose his food to be the food that sat on their plates as they made such an important announcement?
These are not the things I should be thinking about right now, Candace thought. My parents have decided to dismantle our entire lives and I’m thinking about Mr. Lee and his Chinese food. There is clearly something wrong with me.
That detached feeling Candace had the night her parents announced their divorce was one hundred percent different than what she was feeling right now. To see her mother silently exit the room struck fear in Candace’s heart. Fear like she’d never felt before. Fear like the bottom was dropping out underneath her very feet and she had no idea how far she’d fall or if she’d survive the landing.
Candace had expected her mother to assure her that Ms. West was nothing more than a subpar teacher who couldn’t keep her facts straight, that Candace was right for standing up to her, and that under no circumstances was she adopted. But her mother’s reaction was different from anything she’d ever seen before.
Missing at 17 Page 2