Finding My Reason

by Claudia Burgoa

  “I wish I could hug you right now.” His words loosen the knots of my back. My eyes prickle with tears, as I long for his arms and that sense of safety I had when he enveloped me. “Make everything better for you.”

  “It’s not as bad, I just miss being with her yesterday,” I speak, looking at the picture next to my night stand. “We have two big celebrations. The day I came to her, and the day I was officially hers. We each have a framed copy of my adoption certificate.”

  He doesn’t say a word, as I continue telling him about my childhood. “The last place was...I tried so hard every time I was placed, but nothing I did was enough.”

  “Jade,” my foster mother opens the sliding door to the backyard. “Can you come inside, please. We have a meeting with Ms. Ginger.”

  My eyes widen at the social worker’s name. I look around the backyard, wondering if I’ll be able to come back to play later today. Or if this is goodbye.

  “Jade, are you coming?” Her voice is louder, and no longer sweet.

  My heart pounds as I stand up. I hug my stomach as I walk toward the house, praying they don’t kick me out from this home.

  “But what’s wrong with her?” Ms. Ginger’s voice lowers when she sees me. “Hello, sweetie. How are you doing?”

  I shrug, standing close to the couch where she sits. “Sit with me, honey. This is hopefully a routine visit. Nothing to worry about.” She pats the place next to her, and when I take a seat, she taps my hand gently.

  “She’s quiet,” my foster father says.

  “Too quiet,” my foster mother corroborates. “We can’t connect with her.”

  Ms. Ginger opens the thick red folder she always carries with her and reads through it. Then looks at me for several breaths. I remain quiet, sitting down straight with my hands tangled together, resting on my lap. Just the way she taught me because that’s how proper girls sit. The best way to find a family is by behaving at all times. Be quiet, polite, obedient and never complain—unless they do something bad to me. Then I have to call her right away. She taught me how to use a phone too.

  “This doesn’t make sense,” Ms. Ginger mumbles, but I can still hear her. “On our first two interviews you said, and I quote, “I couldn’t have asked for a better child.” You talked about adoption. What changed?”

  “That was four months ago. Only a couple of weeks after her arrival,” my foster mother explains while looking at her husband who nods. My body shivers as the fear of being kicked out knocks the air out of my lungs. “We thought her behavior was temporary, but she’s...”

  “Scary,” my foster father, who has told me several times I’m too quiet, and he’s afraid of what I will do, finishes the phrase. “Maybe she’s not right. We can’t adopt a kid with special needs.”

  “She’s smart, and there’s nothing wrong with her,” Ms. Ginger snaps at them. “Her personality has nothing to do with her intelligence. She’s a loving child who needs a family.”

  “You can say as much as you like, but we can’t have her in this house any longer,” my foster mother concludes, using the same voice she uses when she’s upset at her husband or when the other children don’t behave.

  “Yes. I think you’re right. This house isn’t a good environment for her,” Ms. Ginger agrees. “Can I borrow your phone? I have to make a few calls to place her tonight.”

  “If needed, we can keep her for a couple of days,” my foster mother mumbles. “As long as you continue paying us.”

  My chin bumps against my chest when I realize it happened again. They don’t want me with them. No one does. Why? I try so hard to please them, but no matter how hard I try, they don’t want me. Or love me. I close my hands into fists and bite my lip as hard as I can to hold the tears. Adults hate when children cry. If Ms. Ginger sees me crying, maybe she’ll abandon me too.

  “Jade, sweetie,” Ms. Ginger speaks, lifting my chin. I close my mouth tighter as I feel it quiver. Don’t cry, Jade, or this will be over. Be the brave girl she likes to see. “Can you go for your things? We’re leaving after I get off the phone.”

  Without hesitation, I run to the room I share with one of the older girls. My foster mother follows me. She’s the one who gathers my clothes and places them in a plastic bag. I eye the bear on top of the bed, the brown, fuzzy one they gave me when I arrived. It’s soft and warm; it helps me sleep when I have bad dreams.

  “Can I—I take the bear?” I whisper.

  “Sorry, Jade, we’re saving it for the next kid.” She gently turns me around and helps me leave the room.

  This time, I don’t get hugs or “I’m sorry this didn’t work out.” It never works out. No matter how well I behave or how much I help, I’m never who they want. No one can love me enough to keep me around.

  “We’re going to my house for a couple of hours,” Ms. Ginger says with that soft voice she uses when she wants to tell me it wasn’t me and that we’ll try again. “My boss is searching for a temporary place, and of course, a permanent home for you.”

  “With a Mom and a Dad?” I ask, hugging the plastic bag with my things.

  “Maybe, sweetie.”

  “I did everything you told me,” I insist, hopeful she’ll find the right Mom and Dad next time. “I promise to do better next time.”

  Because one day, I’ll be enough to be loved and wanted.

  Three days later I met her. Mom.

  “Hey, sweetie.” She crouches down next to me. I am watching TV half paying attention, because what’s the point of getting my hopes up.

  “Would you like to go home with me?” Mom’s voice isn’t above a whisper.

  “For how long?” I finally turn to look at her. She has the darkest skin I had ever seen. I couldn’t take my gaze off of her eyes.

  “Forever, if you’d like.” Her brown orbs brim so deeply with passion.

  “She made me feel safe,” I finish my story. Like the way Hudson made me feel when I was with him, just different.

  My alarm beeps. It’s eight in the morning. Time to get my ass off the bed and go to class. “Ugh, I have a class in an hour. Sorry for unloading so much on you,” I say when I finally register that he called asking how I was doing, and I ended narrating my childhood.

  “Don’t be sorry, Jade. I’m glad you trust me enough to share that much with me.” His mellow voice erases the sadness I’ve carried since I talked to Mom. His concern and his sweet words.

  Like usual, I didn’t know I needed to talk to him until we are about to hang up. Talking to him is becoming the best part of my day, or night. My heart skips a few beats at the sound of his voice. He’s dreamy, and if he was closer, or I was back in Colorado... overall, he has become a good friend.

  “Happy Birthday, Princess. I’ll call you later tonight.”

  “I don’t want you to get in trouble at work,” I say, because my night is his morning, and he’s been calling me from work—using his cellphone—but still. Our conversations are long and well, he’s working.

  “Text me when you’re free.” His voice soft, yet demanding.

  “Goodnight, and sweet dreams, Hudson Drago.”

  I hung up wishing I was next to him. But thankful, as talking with him made the sadness go away. The little girl in me usually needs her mom close during the days when she’s pondering about her early years and what was it about her that didn’t appeal to her own parents. I guess some things are harder to forget when you don’t understand them.

  Chapter 8

  Hudson

  September 26th 2003

  “I found Dad drunk,” Jenna answers the phone at the first ring. She texted 9-1-1, and I thought there was a real emergency. I’m already searching flights and she says the obvious. Our father is drunk.

  “Why are you at home?” I check the time. “Go back to your dorm, Jenna.”

  “Do you think she misses us?” My sister asks and I hate that she’s wondering about our mother again. Ignoring my question.

  Why am I listening to her nonsense? Beca
use she’s my little sister, and I’m supposed to protect her. Make sure she always feels loved and doesn’t think that she’s less because our mother left when she was a baby.

  “Hudson, are you still there?”

  “Of course.” I hold the growl.

  If Dad was sober, he’d deal with her. But as much as I expect today to be different, it’ll never change. Dad’s trying to forget that the love of his life left us because we weren’t enough. Jenna longs for a woman she has never met. I am trying to stay away from New Jersey and texting my neighbor to see if she’s available tonight because fucking is the best way to forget.

  My cellphone rings, and I expect it to be Adriana replying to my text. Instead, the caller ID reads unknown.

  “Jenna, give me a second.”

  “Drago, speaking.”

  “You’re a prince,” Jade laughs on the other side of the line, her infectious laughter and my day just got better. Well, my night.

  “I thought I was a knight,” I retort.

  “Fine, you keep your title, my noble sir.” Her laughter continues. “You sent me a cake, candy, and a dragon.”

  “Jenna, can I call you later?” I switch to my home line.

  “Who are you talking to?” Her screech leaves me deaf for a few seconds. Jenna likes to be the center of attention and anyone who dares to take it away becomes a non-desirable person.

  “Jade. I’ve already told you about her.”

  “I need you right now, Hudson. Tell her to call you back later,” she demands.

  “She’s calling from Australia, Jenna,” I remind her that Jade isn’t just any call.

  “I’m going out with Robert. Clearly you only care about that bitch.” Before I can say anything she hangs up on me. Brat.

  “Hud, if you want, I can call you later.” I don’t like Jade’s sober tone.

  “No. I’m actually glad that you called,” I ignore her. “Dad, Jenna and I aren’t in a good place tonight. Our state of mind is...it’s her fault.”

  “Your mom?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “If I ask what happened to her?”

  I lean against the wall annoyed with Jenna. Maybe with Jade. Why bring the past? The bitch is gone. She didn’t care about us. Why should we care about her? “I rather you don’t.”

  “When I was younger I used to wonder what happened to them,” she speaks without any prompts. “My parents. Did they die? Or just left without saying goodbye? The unknown can be scary. If I knew what happened, maybe I wouldn’t doubt myself so much.”

  “Maybe it is better that way,” I advice her. “It’s pretty harrowing.”

  “What’s harrowing?”

  “Seeing your mother leave because you’re not enough to make her stay,” I murmur.

  “Oh, baby,” she whispers.

  “I remember, like it was yesterday.” Sliding down, I sit on the floor while I bring back the memories of that fateful day. “Let me call you from my other line.”

  “John, this is a life sentence without the possibility of parole,” Mom shouts, her voice rising above the chaos. “I can’t continue being a mother or a wife. Might as well kill me right now. Just shoot me.”

  My heart pounds as I look at Dad and wait for him to do what she asks. He doesn’t. Instead, Dad presses my baby sister tighter to her chest, bouncing her up and down, I guess trying to stop her loud cries. “Rachel, stop. You’re scaring our children.”

  My skin prickles as his husky voice matches her volume. I wish they’d stop fighting. And that my sister stops crying, but no one listens when I plea them to stop. Ever since Mommy and my sister came from the hospital, she’s always angry at me and Dad. There’re no more smiles or happy moments.

  “This is hell,” Mom continues without lowering her voice. “Do you have any idea what is it to be attached to them all day long? Feeding the baby, watching Hudson, cleaning the small house. You promised a palace and delivered a pigsty. I’m chasing my dreams.”

  “Jenna is only a couple of weeks old,” Dad insists. “Think about her. You can’t leave us. We’ll hire a nanny, leave them with my mama during the day. Don’t go.”

  “I can and I will leave. You knew from the beginning who I was, and my goals. I’m not the fifties wife you yearn for,” she continues, and I don’t understand her words but Dad flinches. “They offered me a position. It pays well, John. This is a chance of a lifetime. If I continue with you, I’ll die. You force me to be someone I never wanted to be and live a life I never wanted.”

  “If you leave, Rachel, you’re not allowed to come back!” His voice roars, Jenna cries harder, and I jump.

  She laughs, looking at the three of us. “I wasn’t planning on coming back, John.” Mommy picks up the bag from the floor and walks toward the door.

  “No, Mommy, don’t leave me. Please.” I run fast, hugging her waist with both hands. “I promise to be good tomorrow, and quiet. I’ll make sure Jenna doesn’t cry again. Please, don’t go.”

  She puts a hand on top of my shoulder and suddenly there’s silence. Dad doesn’t say a word, Mom draws circles on my back and Jenna is now quiet. All is calm for the first time since Dad came back from work.

  “Be a good boy, Hudson,” she says, and her voice is sweet and low. She lowers her luggage, removes my arms and squats. Her golden eyes capture my gaze; her lips press against each other. “Always follow your dreams, sweetheart. Never let anyone change who you are and steer you away from what makes you happy.”

  “Rachel, please,” Dad begs as she stands up and picks up her bags. “I love you.”

  “And I love you, John. I love the three of you, but not enough to stay and be miserable for the rest of my life.” She opens the door, glances back at us for the last time and leaves.

  “Mama!” I scream, running to the closed door. She doesn’t answer this time. My promise wasn’t enough. Leaning my forehead against it, I continue pleading for her to stop, but she doesn’t. Big fat tears leak out of my closed eyes, down my cheeks.

  “Don’t cry, son,” Dad orders. “Men don’t cry. We stay strong and continue walking with our heads up.”

  “I want Mommy.” I turn around holding on to his leg. “She has to believe me; I’ll be good this time.”

  “She’s never coming back,” he says, his voice serious. My chest hurts more, my stomach turns over, and I want to be sick. But I don’t because she hates when I get sick. “You’ll be a good boy. You and I will be strong for Jenna. She’s a baby and we have to take care of her. We are all she has, Hudson.”

  The tears continue falling. My heart beat races as I ask myself why she left and why we aren’t enough. I want to hide, but I can because Dad needs me. Jenna needs me. Dad’s face hardens, his eyes look watery but he doesn’t cry. I think he’s sad too. He needs me too.

  “Yes, Pops.” I clean my tears. “I promise to be strong.”

  And not to cry. Always be quiet and helpful. Because I fear he’ll leave Jenna and me if I don’t. What would I do without him?

  Mama, I want my mama, but she doesn’t want me anymore.

  “I wish I was next to you,” she states, her calming voice soothing my heart. Loosening the knots inside my stomach. The chest pains are gone. “But it is her loss.”

  “What?”

  “She missed the chance to see you grow into the man you are today,” Jade comments. “You cared for your sister, helped your father, and became...you.”

  “Me?” It’s my turn to laugh. “What does that mean?”

  “No, sir.” She laughs too. “I’m not going to pump your ego by listing all your qualities. Just know that not many will care for their younger sister. Or will spend so much on long distance to make sure a stranger is doing well.”

  “You’re a stranger now?” I raise an eyebrow, wondering why she said that and what’s the rest of the qualities she sees in me. “Thought we knew each other pretty well.”

  “We do now,” she confirms. “But before...I’m glad though. That I met you, and
we became friends.”

  Friends? If only she knew that some nights...no, every night I spend hours thinking about her. Looking at the pictures she sends me, and wondering how she’s doing. Remembering how great we fit together and lusting after someone I can’t have and that I might never be able to have again. The sound of an incoming text interrupts my thoughts. Adriana.

  Adriana: It is a little late, but I can go out for a bite. Or we can skip that and just come over to my place.

  We’ve been playing this game since we met. She invites me over; I make up an excuse. When I have time and invite her she’s busy or I chicken out and apologize for not looking at my calendar before contacting her.

  Me: Sorry, Adriana. Something came up. Rain check?

  Adriana: Of course. I’ll text you over the weekend.

  “Sorry about that, princess,” I apologize. “Tell me a story.”

  “Hmm, how about we travel today?”

  “Where are we going?” I close my eyes losing myself inside her world. Forgetting the bitch that abandoned me, and the disaster going on in New Jersey. If I was a strong man, I’d be next to my father and convincing my sister that she’s more than enough. And I take some of Jade’s words, sending a quick text to her.

  Me: Jenna. Mother isn’t worth your tears. You’re a wonderful sister, and she missed her big chance to see you grow up. I love you, little sister.

  Jenna: I love you too, Hud.

  “Last time we went to The Virgin Islands,” she recalls the last made up vacations we took. “How about France? Paris. We can visit the Eiffel tower.”

  “Sounds like you want to go shopping,” I suggest.

  “Nope. I promise not to visit any shops this time—unless we find an antique store selling old records,” she continues and I’m enjoying her voice while imagining taking this trip with her. And for the rest of the night we are together again.

  • • •

  July 4th, 2004

  “Who is Brody again?” Adriana asks as we make our way into the Golinis house.

  “My best friend,” I reply before ringing the bell. “I’ve mentioned him before. Actually, we had dinner with him and Claire, his wife, a couple of months back.”