I had not even considered accompanying Adam on this journey that he so desperately wanted to pursue. I wasn’t sure that I had the strength to see Brooklyn again. I was afraid of her resentment toward me for giving her up; I was afraid of the disappointment that Heather and Charles might feel because of my lack of involvement all these years; and I was afraid for myself. I was afraid of the depth of my love for Brooklyn and how that love would inevitably swell at the sight of her and how that love would break me into pieces again. I didn’t think that I could survive it this time. Adam was right; every one of my reservations was in an attempt to protect myself, exposing just how selfish I really was.
I called Adam at the number that he had given me. He answered on the first ring. He was walking along the beach and promised to be at my place in a few minutes.
He appeared at my door, hair in disarray from the wind, the letters still in his hand. “Hi,” he said quietly.
“Hey.”
“What did you find out?” he asked immediately, not wasting anytime, as he stepped into my living room, setting the letters on the table.
“Well, they actually want you to meet her, but you will have to sign paperwork, waiving your parental rights beforehand.”
“I’m not sure that I can do that.”
“Adam, you don’t have a choice. If you want to meet her, this is the only way.”
“I have to see that she’s okay first, before I sign anything.”
“Adam, these are her parents. It’s been ten years. You can’t change that now, no matter what. It wouldn’t be fair to anyone.” I instantly regretted my choice of words, knowing that none of this was fair to Adam.
He ran his hands through his hair as he considered this. The turmoil that he was facing inside was evident in his body language. “Fine, I’ll sign. But I want to see her as soon as possible. When can we go?” He looked at me waiting for my answer, his hands resting on his hips.
“I wasn’t planning on going with you,” I whispered into the space between us.
“Oh, you’re going with me, Kendi,” he said with conviction.
“I can’t...” I started to say, shaking my head.
“Think of our daughter for once, Kendi. Think of me. She deserves to know who we are.”
I turned my back to him so that he could not see the shame in my eyes as I shed tears for my baby that I had failed time and time again. He was right. I had to do this for her.
I noticed the letters that Adam had set down. Several envelopes had been ripped open, their contents spilled out on the table. I could see a picture of her, her unmistakable deep blue eyes calling to me from a few feet away. I picked it up and looked into the eyes of a toddler; she couldn’t have been more than two. Her smile matched my own, full pink lips parted to display only a few front teeth. Her cheeks chubby, her dark hair long and beautiful, falling around her face in thick curls. She looked so much like Adam it took my breath away. My heart filled and burst all in the same moment. I felt Adam’s hands on my shoulders as he stood behind me, looking at the picture that I held in my hand.
“Incredible, right?” he said with pride in his voice.
I nodded, unable to speak through my emotions.
“I love her so much, and I’ve never even met her. How is that possible?”
My heart broke at his words. It broke for him, knowing the joy that he would feel when he did meet her and the pain that would follow when he said good-bye. My body trembled from the silent sobs that escaped me. Adam wrapped his arms around me and pulled my back against him.
I felt his breath on my ear as he quietly spoke to me. “You’re not alone this time. We can do this together, Kendi.” The comfort of his arms around me and the compassion in his voice undid me. I collapsed against him, his strength supporting me, holding me. And I knew that I could do this with Adam by my side.
All This Time
I was nervous as we boarded the plane at LAX together. Adam had been staying at the hotel near my apartment for the past few days. I had been working long hours at the hospital during the day, scrambling to cover my shifts that I would miss while I flew back to Washington to deal with yet another “family emergency.” We had spent the evenings together at my apartment, reading the letters about our daughter, admiring the pictures that Heather had sent. Watching Brooklyn grow up from the tiny baby that I remembered to this amazing and beautiful ten-year-old was extraordinary. Although I couldn’t help but regret all the years that I had wasted in fear, when I could have known her in some small way.
Adam read the letters aloud to me. We laughed at all the cute moments that Heather described, like the way that she pronounced certain words when she was learning to speak or the way she performed ballet to anyone who would watch in the supermarket. We also cried at the tenderness of Heather’s words as she described how Brooklyn began asking questions about us, specifically me, when she was old enough to understand what being adopted meant.
Heather and Charles had adopted a baby boy when Brooklyn was two, and they had been open with both children from the very beginning about being adopted. Brooklyn’s brother, Kyle, had monthly visits with his birth mother and grandmother, which left Brooklyn with many questions about her own birth family. This broke my heart. The idea that all these years I had been hurting her by staying away.
Heather begged me several times to consider writing Brooklyn a letter, so she had something from me, but she would always end with the assurance that she completely understood why I stayed away. That she could not begin to imagine what I felt. Her understanding could hardly assuage the guilt that I felt.
The most recent letters included small notes from Brooklyn herself, her penmanship improving with each letter. She played soccer, took ballet lessons and piano. Adam couldn’t help but comment that she must get her musical talent from him. I felt so free in these moments, sharing these letters with Adam–—the only person who could ever understand what I felt reading intimate details about the life of a child that I had birthed but had not known.
I was slowly opening my heart again, allowing myself to bask in the love that I felt for Brooklyn. Its warmth thawed the numbness inside me. I could feel everything. Even the cuts that still bled from the past, but somehow it didn’t hurt as much with Adam here beside me. He was still guarded. We spoke openly about our daughter, but not of us. With every small brush of a leg or hand, I felt his body tense. I knew that I had hurt him beyond repair; my betrayal cut so deep that he would never be able to forgive me, to love me again. Our current bond and renewed friendship was only for the sake of knowing our daughter.
Adam and I sat in silence while we ascended into the air, the vast blue of the Pacific Ocean stretching on for miles beneath us. Once the jets quieted and the plane leveled, Adam’s voice interrupted the comfortable silence that had settled over us. “I remember the long flight home from Africa. I hadn’t heard from you in over two years but I thought of you that entire trip home. I was secretly hoping that you would be there in Seattle when I landed, even though I knew it was a long shot.”
“Adam.” I turned from the window to look at him. It was the first time that he had said anything about us in days.
“It’s okay, Kendi. I totally understand why you weren’t there. It doesn’t matter now. I was just thinking of that day.”
“I was there,” I whispered, staring straight ahead, remembering that day.
“What? What do you mean you were there?” I could feel his eyes on me from where he sat.
“I went to the airport to see you that day.”
“What happened?” he asked.
I turned toward him and took in his confused expression as he tried to put together the pieces from that day so long ago. “I saw you with your family, and then I saw you with Katie. And I left.”
His eyes moved away from mine as he ran a hand through his hair, processing what I had just told him. “I can’t believe that you were so close to me that day. You have no idea how badly I wanted to s
ee you.” He let out a loud sigh before he continued. “Seeing you would’ve changed so many things. Why did you leave?”
“It would’ve changed nothing, Adam. It doesn’t change the past.”
“It changes my past, Kendi. And you didn’t answer my question. Why did you leave?” He looked at me, searching my eyes for answers.
“I saw what was going on between you and Katie, Adam. How could I face you after everything that had happened, when you had obviously moved on and with her of all people?” I tried to hide the hurt that I felt from this; I didn’t deserve to feel hurt by Adam’s choices.
“I’m so sorry. She insisted on being there. Nothing was going on between Katie and me. We had been writing back and forth for over a year. That’s it.”
“What did you mean by my presence changing your past? Adam, what did you mean?” I asked again when he was silent.
“Katie and I had a very close friendship when I got back from Africa. It eventually turned into something more.”
“So you guys dated?”
“Yeah, you could say that.”
“What aren’t you telling me, Adam?”
His evasiveness filled in the blanks for me.
“She’s the one? The one that wanted to get married? The serious relationship that you had?”
He nodded and waited for my reaction.
I looked back out the window but could not focus on the mountainous terrain that passed by below us; I couldn’t focus on anything but the image that I had in my head. The image of Katie and Adam sharing their lives, making plans for their future. He had shared with her what I had only dreamed of during that time. Wanting Adam in a way that I knew would never be possible after betraying him the way I did. I don’t know why the hurt cut so deep.
I had known that he had almost married someone, but knowing that it was Katie triggered something inside me. The physical relationship that they’d had in high school had changed everything between Adam and me. It had taken Adam from me in the end, forcing him to leave on his mission. And the fact that he’d had a relationship with her, a very serious relationship after everything that we had gone through, left me questioning every single thing that I thought I knew of him. I fought the tears that threatened to spill from my eyes and turned to look at him. “You still haven’t answered my question.”
“If I had known that there was any chance for us, I would have never dated her in the first place. I was so lonely when I got home, and she was more than happy to be there for me as a friend, and then she started to push for more. Before I knew it, she was ready to become a pastor’s wife and live the life that it entailed. I told you though, in the end, I couldn’t see past you. I only ever wanted you, nothing else could compare to the way you made me feel. It ended badly, as you can imagine.”
I couldn’t help but flinch every time he used the past tense in reference to me. I knew that he didn’t feel that way for me now. I knew that something resembling hate filled the space where his love for me had once resided. “Adam, there was never a chance for us, not after what I had done. If I had told you about the pregnancy and the adoption back then, would it really have changed anything?”
“I don’t know. But I can’t help but think that we wasted all these years apart. We could have known our daughter on some level, and we could have tried to right the wrong between us.”
“And now?” I asked.
“Now? Well, it just seems too late for all that.”
The sadness I saw in his eyes chipped away another fragment of my heart. “Why did you really resign, Adam?”
“Do you really want to hear this?”
“Yeah, I think I do.”
“After I ended things with Katie, I went a little crazy. I felt this deep-seated resentment toward the church and God, for taking me from you. It was like all this time I had thought that I was doing the right thing and fulfilling a calling that only my faith led me to understand. But I couldn’t shake the feelings that I still had for you. I knew that, if I truly believed in my work, then it would have been enough for me. My faith, and certainly not Katie, hadn’t been able to dull this ache I had inside from losing you.
“I tried so hard to forget you. I slept with a lot of other women, hoping that I could feel something, anything, for someone that wasn’t you. At that point, I couldn’t live with being a hypocrite, standing in front of my congregation preaching about things that I wasn’t sure that I believed in anymore. The shame I felt from my sins became too much.”
“You told me that it wasn’t about sex.”
“It wasn’t. It was about so much more than that.”
I sat back in my seat, trying to digest what Adam had just told me. Trying not to picture him with other women. I’d had my fair share of lovers over the years, in an attempt to fill a void of my own. Adam and I were not that different.
Something was weighing heavily on me though. It wasn’t the other women or even the relationship with Katie, which was much harder to accept than the meaningless encounters; it was something else entirely. He had given it all up: his dream, the path that was so important to him that I hadn’t wanted to interrupt it or burden him with a pregnant girlfriend or a baby. He had just walked away. It was hard not to feel that all our sacrifices were for nothing.
I was still working toward my dream but at what cost? I wasn’t sure how I felt about the past. I had so many regrets, and yet I was doing what I had set out to do from the beginning. I was so close to finishing my residency—my goal that I had been working toward for as long as I could remember. I was happy and in love; at least I’d thought I was, until I ran into Adam at my gramps’s funeral.
My typical response in that moment would be to walk—run—away from Adam, his presence too much while I was sifting through our past, trying to make sense of all the wrong turns that we had taken. But I was trapped on the damn plane, trapped between his body and the window. I could smell his cologne and feel each place that his body met mine from the cramped seating arrangements. Our legs, just above the knee. His elbow against my arm on the armrest.
I wanted to reach over and hold his hand, lean my body into his, to feel him. And yet at the same time, I wanted to shake him and beg him to forgive me, to tell me how we got here. How we were so far apart, bitter and angry with our decisions, and yet our love still lived inside us. It didn’t seem fair that, after all the hurt and pain we had put each other through, we couldn’t seem to let go. I buried my face in the window as if I was interested in watching the endless mass of vapor that we were passing through, anything to avoid conversation with Adam. I didn’t think that I could bear to hear any more about the past.
~
We managed to endure the remainder of the flight in silence. Before I knew it, we were landing in Bellingham. I was nervous. I had both looked forward to and dreaded this day for years. I was finally going to see my daughter. I wanted her to like me, to accept me. I wasn’t sure what to expect, and that scared the hell out of me.
Arms Wide Open
Adam drove the rental car through the streets of Fairhaven, an old neighborhood in Bellingham. We were meeting Charles, Heather and their lawyer at a café. They wanted to meet Adam, and we both had paperwork to sign before we met with Brooklyn. I stood on the sidewalk, straightening my short gray cotton dress that I had paired with my favorite black riding boots. Deciding what to wear when meeting my ten-year-old daughter for the first time since her birth was not easy. I settled for nice. Not too casual and not too dressy.
Adam came around to my side of the car, wearing dark charcoal dress slacks and a bright blue button-down shirt. His hair was damp and styled, his best attempt to tame his curls. He looked handsome and eerily calm. He led me into the café with his hand resting on my lower back. Once again I felt comforted by his presence.
I immediately spotted Charles and Heather at a corner table near the back of the café. Heather gave me a subtle wave as we made our way in their direction. They stood when we reached them. Thei
r lawyer, Tom Stephens, extended his hand as he introduced himself to Adam and me. I introduced Adam to the Petersens, and, while Charles politely shook Adam’s hand, Heather wrapped him up in an unexpected hug and then embraced me as well.
“Oh, my God, the resemblance is remarkable,” I heard Heather say aloud to no one in particular.
I felt tears well up in my eyes as I remembered her from all those years ago. At the time, I had pitied her, wanting to give her what she couldn’t have but desperately wanted, and now I found myself envying her, wanting what she had. Such a stark contrast to what I had felt when I was young and naive, unaware of the effect of my decision.
“Kendi, you look beautiful. It is so good to see you,” she whispered in my ear.
I wasn’t sure what to say so I replied, “It’s good to see you too.” My heart was hammering in my chest as we all sat down to discuss the business portion of our reunion.
Their lawyer cleared his throat. “I have new documents for you both to sign. I’ll give you time to read over them. Let me know if you have any questions.”
Once the paperwork was out of the way, I heard Heather ask Adam questions about himself. Where are you from? What do you do? He answered each one, adding in his usual wit and charm, and, before I knew it, the awkward tension lifted, leaving everyone at ease. Adam was amazing with people, just another of his many talents. Before long, Mr. Stephens announced that his work was done, and he had a long drive back to Seattle. We said our cordial good-byes to him, leaving the four of us in another awkward moment, not sure how to proceed.
Heather’s voice broke through the uncomfortable silence. “Well, why don’t you two follow us to the house? It’s not far from here. The kids are expecting us, and they are so excited to meet you!”
~
Moments later Adam and I were back in our rental car, following the Petersens’ Land Rover through a beautiful and upscale neighborhood bordering the water. I had forgotten how lush and green the Northwest was. My nerves were getting the best of me, and I let out a loud sigh. Adam placed his hand on my wildly bouncing knee and asked if I was okay.
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