by J B Glazer
“I think she will with time. You two have a special friendship. I don’t know that it can be the same. But I hope you can still be a part of each other’s lives. And what about Luke?”
“I don’t know. He won’t return my calls. Neither of them of will.”
“Keep trying. Don’t give up on Melanie… or him.”
“I won’t.”
“Did I ever tell you your father was dating someone else when we met?”
I sit up straighter. “No! Did you steal him away? Were you the other woman?”
“I wouldn’t put it like that. But I was persistent. Kept the lines of communication open. And when they broke up, I was there. I could’ve walked away. But I chose to be his friend in the hopes that he would one day see me as I saw him.”
“It obviously worked.”
She smiles at me. “It sure did. So, how long are you planning on staying?”
“I don’t know. A few days, I guess.”
“Will you see any of your old friends while you’re here? Amanda maybe?”
“Probably not. I haven’t been the greatest at keeping in touch.”
“That’s OK. More time for me and your dad. Do you want to go Christmas shopping tomorrow?”
“Isn’t it a bit early?”
“We can just look, you know, get some ideas.” She yawns. “I think I’ll turn in.”
“What about Dad?” I ask, glancing at his sleeping figure in the armchair.
“He always falls asleep in that old thing. He’ll come up eventually. Good night, Lucy.”
“Night mom.”
“I’m glad you’re home.”
“Me too.”
The next few days are relaxing. We shop, eat, and my mom teaches me how to play mahj, as she calls it. I tease her it’s an old people’s game. She laughs and says “Lucy, you do realize I’m old?” I know she is, but I don’t think of her that way. And I have to admit, now that I’m getting the hang of the game I like it. I should look into joining a group back home. Though I imagine it would be more of a senior citizen crowd. It would actually work nicely with my plan on being an old cat lady. I guess I’m back to that.
My mom invites some friends over and I play a few rounds with them. I was nervous at first because I’m still learning, but everyone was nice and it helped to play with a larger group. After they leave I help my mom tidy up. When things are in order I tell her I should head upstairs and get some work done.
“How were you able to take time off on such short notice?” she asks. I know you’re so busy with your job.”
“I already had a vacation planned. Melanie and I were going to go to Arizona. But given everything that happened I canceled and came here instead. I didn’t have my heart set on going there anyway. I really wanted to go to Aspen. I don’t know why but I’ve been dying to see Colorado. It’s weird, I’ve always had this feeling about it. A connection I guess you could say.”
“You were born there,” she says quietly.
“Really?” We’ve never talked about my past before.
“And it’s where your birth mother lives.”
“What?”
“She lives in Colorado. At least she used to.”
“How do you know?”
She looks away. “Because she gave me her address.”
There’s silence. I’m too stunned to speak.
She puts her hand on mine. “I’m sorry I never told you.”
“You have her address?” I’m incredulous. “After all this time you’ve had it and never shared it with me?”
“She asked me not to. She said only if you asked. And you never have before now.”
“Mom! How could you think I didn’t want to know? Of course I wanted to ask. But I figured you didn’t know anything. You told me it was a closed adoption.”
“It was. But she sent the note through the agency. The woman wasn’t sure if she should give it to me, but she did. I’ll go find it upstairs.”
She returns a few minutes later, which means she knew exactly where the paper was. She hands it to me and I stare at my birth mother’s handwriting for the first time. Cecilia Rusch. Her name is Cecilia. I head upstairs and my mom follows me.
“Lucy, wait. Please. Let’s talk about this.”
I shake my head. I’m so angry and fear I’ll say something I regret.
“I’m so sorry. Your father and I planned to tell you once you were old enough. But you never asked about her. Ever.”
“That’s because I thought you didn’t know anything. If I’d had the chance to meet her maybe things would’ve turned out differently.”
“What do you mean?”
“I wouldn’t have been left with so many unanswered questions. Maybe if I’d spoken with her I’d understand why she didn’t want me. That feeling has stayed with me, even after all this time. I know people think I’m aloof, but I’m just trying to protect myself because I know how things can change in an instant,” I say quietly.
My mom looks pained and covers her face in her hands.
“It’s nothing you or dad did. I’m so grateful you took me in, that you took a chance on a troubled young girl. You both gave me an amazing childhood and I’ve always felt like a part of this family. But there’s this restless feeling I’ve carried with me that’s hard to describe.”
“Lucy, I’m so sorry. It wasn’t an easy decision to make, believe me. You’re all we have and we’ve always wanted what’s best for you. Your dad and I felt you were happy and well adjusted. It wasn’t an easy journey to get there, so we thought telling you might change that. We didn’t want you to have a setback, so we tried to look forward instead of backwards.”
“Mom, I need some time to process this, OK? I’ll call you when I’m ready to talk. But right now I need some space.”
She watches in silence as I throw things into my bag. With shaking fingers I yank the zipper closed. Then I pull up my Taxi app and order a cab. I survey the room to make sure I haven’t left anything behind.
“You don’t have to leave. Stay and we can talk more about this later,” my mom pleads.
I brush past her as I carry my bag downstairs.
“Where are you going?” she calls out after me.
“To the airport. I need to make flight arrangements. I’m going to Colorado.”
“Wait.” She hurries to the door. “I’ll drive you.”
“Thanks but I already arranged for a cab.” I give her a hug and she doesn’t let go until the car arrives.
I feel guilty leaving on bad terms. But I’m really pissed at my parents. My whole life they lied to me. They’ve known a critical piece of information they withheld from me. It may be hypocritical to harbor this anger because I’ve done the same to Melanie. In my heart I know they wanted to protect me too, but it hurts all the same. I hope something good can come from it, which is why I need to talk to Cecilia. I know it may seem crazy, jumping on a plane and going to meet a woman who I’m not sure still lives there. And I’m not sure if she even wants to see me. But there’s been a huge void only she can fill.
I land at Denver International and go to the rental car desk. Luckily they have a car available, so I type her address in the GPS and I’m on my way. I open the windows and take in the stunning mountain views. It’s weird, but I feel as though I belong here. After a few hours I pull up in front of a ranch. I haven’t given a thought to what I’m going to say. Will she even be here? Will she take one look at me and know who I am? I sure hope the answer is yes to both those questions.
I cut the engine and my mouth goes dry. I wipe my palms on my jeans and take a deep breath of fresh, mountain air. While it’s calming, I’m still so nervous I reconsider. What if she turns me away? Doesn’t want to see me? After all, she gave me up. So I don’t know that she’ll welcome my unexpected reappearance in her life. But I also know I’ll never be satisfied until I have answers. My boots crunch on the gravel drive, which seems intrusive in light of the otherwise silence. But they carry me to the
front door. I take a deep breath and knock. There are footsteps and a woman’s voice calls out, “One minute!” Please let it be her. She opens the door and I’m met with a pair of blue-green eyes, just like my own. Her face is more weathered and her hair has gone gray, but I remember. I remember her face—the one I’ve seen in my dreams. She takes one look at me and says, “Well I’ll be damned.” She opens the door wider and motions that I should come inside.
“Lucy, look at you!” I don’t say anything, I just follow her down a narrow hallway to what I presume is the living room. There are no family photos lining the walls, nothing to make it feel like home. I stare at her, the way she walks, the way she carries herself, and try to gauge if I see myself reflected in her movements. I don’t. “Can I get you something to drink?” I shake my head. “So,” she clears her throat. “I bet you have questions.”
“Just one, really. Why? Why did you leave me at that place?”
She takes a deep breath and picks at an invisible thread on the couch. “I thought I was doing what was best for you. I was twenty-one and unmarried when I got pregnant with you. I was head over heels in love with your father. So when we met I didn’t see his flaws. He was a controlling man. And he was kind when you did what he wanted, which I did in the beginning. I was so enamored by him I didn’t question anything. I was just happy that he chose me. As I grew more comfortable I voiced my opinion. He didn’t like that.” She pauses. “I’m going to get a glass of water. Would you like one?”
“Sure.”
I hear her run the tap then she returns with two glasses, ice cubes clinking. I set mine down and wait as she takes a sip. I notice her hands are shaking. “Anyway, I was so excited when I realized I was pregnant. I hoped it was a girl. Your father saw you as another mouth to feed. Things were going south at work. I don’t know much about it—he never shared those kinds of details with me. So he was stressed and took it out on me. Verbally at first. But he hit me. Once. I was terrified I lost you. So I acted demure again to appease him.
“Once you were born he was taken with you. I was always the target of his rage. Then one day when you were about five you witnessed us arguing. There was a storm outside and you were scared of lightning. You walked in on him hitting me. You told him to stop and not to hurt me. He didn’t like you talking back to him. He grabbed your arm and I was terrified he was going to hit you too. So I ran to the kitchen, pulled out a knife, and threatened him. I knew from that moment on that you were no longer safe. I planned that we’d both leave. But I had no money, no car, and no family. That was no way for you to live—a life on the run. So I sent you away to keep you safe from him. It was the hardest thing I ever did. I know you don’t understand, but sometimes when you love someone you need to set them free.”
Her words ring a bell. “Is that why you gave me this necklace?”
“You still have it?”
I nod and lift the chain out to her. She slips on a pair of glasses and inspects it.
“I wanted to leave you with a piece of me,” she says as she dabs at her eyes. “I had it specially made before you left. I told you it was time for you to fly. I prayed with everything I had that you’d find your way. And it appears you did.”
“So what happened with dad?”
“He went to prison. I wish I could say it was because of me. That I was strong enough to turn him in. But I wasn’t. He hurt someone else.”
“Why did you never come look for me? After?”
“It was a closed adoption. I thought that was best. So he could never find you. But I gave the woman at the agency my information. I didn’t think she passed it along. But it appears that she did. That’s why I’ve never moved. In case you came looking for me. I hoped that you would. I never wanted things to turn out this way. I thought it was my only option at the time. I’m sorry I wasn’t strong enough to leave him. And I’m sorry you’ve had to deal with a lifetime of wondering. I’m so sorry about everything, Lulu.”
Wow. It’s so much to process.
We spend the afternoon talking. I tell her about my childhood, my parents, and my job. I avoid talking about my friends or my love life. I’m on such a high, and I’m not ready to come back down yet. Day turns to night and she asks if I want to stay. I do. I end up staying for four days. Four glorious days getting to know my birth mom.
On the last day I’m packing up my things when I hear a loud noise coming from her room. “Cecilia?” I race in and she says not to worry, she accidentally knocked over some books from her nightstand. That’s when I notice it. The butterfly mural she has above her bed. It’s a huge canvas painting, and there in the center is the Palos Verdes Blue.
“Where’d you get that?”
“I painted it. It made me think of you.”
I’m speechless. It seems that even though we’ve been apart all these years, we’ve still been connected on some subconscious level.
“That’s my favorite butterfly.”
“I know.”
“You do?”
“Yes. We read about it all the time. In one of your favorite books.”
“Oh, I don’t remember that.”
“I do. Even though you weren’t here with me physically, you were always with me here,” she says, placing her hand over her heart.
That’s when I lose it. She pulls me close and I weep for everything she’s lost. And everything I’ve lost.
She tells me she took up painting when I left. It was therapeutic for her. She now has a small gallery in town where she displays her work. Her subject is always butterflies. She’s been able to make a living from her art, but she donates most of it to charity. Specifically, the Dave Thomas Foundation for Adoption. She said it wouldn’t be right to profit from her art in light of where she draws her source of inspiration.
When it’s time to go I ask if she’ll come visit me in Chicago. She says she’d love nothing more.
As I drive through the mountains once again, I’m finally at peace. I’ve found what I’ve been searching for. And it’s not what I thought it would be.
Chapter 39
Luke still hasn’t returned my call. I try him again before my flight takes off. We’re delayed due to weather, so we sit on the tarmac for a while before we’re finally cleared. It’s hard sitting with only my thoughts for company, not knowing for hours if he’s tried to get in touch. But when I turn off airplane mode upon touchdown it’s clear he’s ignoring me. I think about what my mom said, about how sometimes when you love someone you need to set them free. But I don’t think that applies in this case. I have to believe Luke wouldn’t be better off without me. I made a terrible mistake in not trusting him. But it has to be fixable, right?
I stay late on Monday getting caught up at work. Charlotte filled in for me. How weird is that? And she was totally normal about it instead of being her usual territorial self. On Tuesday I decide to run over to Luke’s office during lunch. I figure he can ignore my calls, but it’s a lot harder to do if I show up in person.
I know it’s risky, and he could be out to lunch, but I give it a shot. A flustered-looking redhead looks up when I walk in and ask to speak with Luke.
“Mr. Harrison doesn’t have any scheduled lunch meetings.”
“I know. I don’t have an appointment. Is he available?”
“Mr. Harrison is really busy.”
“Please, it’s important. Tell him Lucy’s here.”
“One moment.” She slips on a headset and says, “Mr. Harrison, there’s a Lucy here to see you. Uh huh. I’ll let her know.” She turns to me and says, “Mr. Harrison apologizes but he’s tied up. He suggested you make an appointment.”
“I’ll come back another time. Can you give him something for me? It’s rather urgent,” I say as I scribble down a note and hand it to her. I walk toward the elevators and turn around so I can see which office is his. Bingo. I quickly stride across the lobby and open the door without knocking. The redhead is on my heels.
“Mr. Harrison, I’m so sorry.
She just barged in. I told her you were busy and to make an appointment.”
“Don’t worry about it, Cynthia.” He looks at me and in a clipped tone says, “You have two minutes before my next meeting. Make it quick.” There is no warmth in his expression. Nothing that would indicate our shared history. His dark eyes that are usually filled with mirth seem flat. I hate that I’ve extinguished the light from them. He quickly assesses me, then he turns toward the window. He’s literally turned his back on me.
It takes me a minute to find my voice. Seeing him takes my breath away, and suddenly I’m at a loss for words. “Luke, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry I didn’t believe in you. I know you were telling the truth. I made a monumental mistake. Words can’t describe how much I regret it. And how much I regret not following my heart. I choose you. I know it’s the right choice, and I’m sorry I didn’t make it before. What can I do? Tell me, and I’ll do it.”
He’s silent for a minute, which only intensifies my anxiety. I had hoped seeing me in person and hearing my apology would be enough. But I can tell this is going to be a harder battle than I thought. When he finally speaks he doesn’t turn around. “My whole life no one’s believed in me. Not my parents, not even my brother. Do you know what it’s like to grow up without that kind of support? So I slacked off. Wasn’t the best student. I figured, if they don’t believe in me why should I believe in myself. But after I graduated and started working for my dad, I had something to prove. I had to work harder than everyone else. My brother was always the smart one. That’s why he assumed my dad would pick him to take over his empire. As close as Patrick and I are, I don’t think he thought I could handle it. Didn’t believe that I could. And then I met you. You were the first person to believe in me. And I thought we were kindred spirits. We understood one another, you know? But you turned out to be just like everyone else.”
“Luke, no.”
There’s a knock on the door. Cynthia appears and says, “Tyson and Jeffrey are here.”
“Show them in. Lucy and I are done.”
As the two men walk in he has to turn around to greet them. Our eyes meet and I think I see regret.