Sunlight and Shadows

by Christine Cross

  But another part of her mind desperately wanted him to come with her. It was the part of her that also wanted him to hold her again and comfort her. That wanted to kiss and touch him again and get back everything they had before it all fell apart.

  “Angie,” he said finally, “the thing is...I mean...I get why you would have questions. But why couldn’t you just call her? Or email her? She does have email doesn’t she?”

  He leaned forward to her on the couch. His eyes half understanding and half accusing. Angela let out a silent prayer of thanks that he had not immediately insisted upon coming with her.

  “Of course, she does,” she said with an eye roll.

  “Then why do you have to fly halfway across the country to meet her?”

  Angela had no immediate answer for this. She bit her lip and looked about the small living room that used to be hers in hopes that she might see something that would help her explain this need to her husband.

  The truth was, as strange as it might seem to Andrew, it was a need. She needed to meet her mother. She needed to understand where she came from.

  The truth was, she loved her adopted parents every bit as much as any child loved their own birth parents. And, she knew they loved her just as much as they would have if she had been born to them.

  Despite that, she had always felt just a tiny bit distant from them. She remembered vividly having to answer questions in middle school about why she looked nothing like either her mother or her father. About why she had dark hair and both her parents were blonde.

  About why her eyes were green when her mothers were brown and her fathers were blue. About why she was short and stocky when both her parents were tall and slender.

  She’d never felt any shame about being adopted. When she was little, she thought it made her special. It was something she told children proudly, knowing that it made her just a little bit more interesting.

  Now that she’d lost not just one baby but three in the past three years; now that she’d been so happy and then so completely and utterly devastated, it seemed as though everything had changed. She needed to know where she’d come from. She needed to see the woman who had given her her eyes or her nose. She needed to see the woman who had given birth to her before she could truly understand what had gone so horribly wrong inside her own body.

  “It’s...it’s hard to explain,” she told Andrew. “It’s just something I need to do.”

  Her husband didn’t answer for a moment, just slid back on the couch pursing his lips.

  Uncomfortable with the silence, Angela said the first thing that came to her mind. The one thing that might push her husband from reluctance to acceptance.

  Because, despite what she told herself about this being none of his business, she needed him to accept it. To understand why she had to go.

  “What if it was your dad?” she asked. “What if you had the chance to meet him. Wouldn’t you be at least a little bit curious.”

  His eyes widened and color filled his cheeks for a moment as it always did at the mention of his father. Andrew had been raised by his mother and stepfather who his mom had married when he was five. His birth father left while his mom was still pregnant with him. He’d never met him.

  Andrew stared hard at her for several moments. Finally, he nodded and let out another sound, somewhere between a huff and a sigh. This, she knew signaled acceptance rather than frustration.

  “You said you’re dad got two tickets,” he said nodding to the envelope.

  "He thought you might want to go," she said. "I told him not to waste his money but he insisted. He said if I was going you should go too."

  "And what do you think?" Andrew asked.

  Angela looked at him out of the corner of her eye dreading having to explain herself. Still not sure what she wanted from him. What she wanted from herself.

  “I think you should come if you want to,” she said finally. “You’ve still got five days to decide."

  She knew it was a cowardly answer. She was placing the ball in his court because she couldn't be really sure of what she wanted. Of what would be best.

  She looked up at him. His eyes were pointed down towards the ground, his hands clasped in front of him.

  Finally, he looked up at her.

  “I’ll have to think about it,” he said.

  She looked into his eyes and gave him half a smile which he returned. He reached out as though to touch her hand but, she stood up quickly before he could.

  "Text me to let me know," she said. She opened the envelope and set one ticket down on the coffee table in front of him. "Plane leaves at eight on Friday morning."

  He followed her to the door. She gathered her purse and opened the door, hoping to leave before Andrew said anything more. Before she could step outside, a warm hand reached out to touch her arm.

  With a small shiver at Andrew's warm touch, she turned around. When she looked into his green eyes, she couldn't help but feel a warm, pleasant shiver course through her. The same one she'd felt when she first saw him a little over seven years before.

  "Hey, I'll see you soon. Ok?" he asked.

  He kept hold of her arm and looked at her seriously. As though he was making a promise, a vow to never let her go. To keep fighting for her no matter what.

  Angela knew she couldn't give into that promise, no matter how much she wanted to. Not yet. Not until she knew for sure whether or not she would be able to give him what he needed.

  So, she shook her arm out of his grasp. She forced the guilt in her stomach aside at the hurt expression in his eyes and gave him a fake, half smile.

  "Yeah, I'll see you soon," she said.

  Before he could say anything more, she turned away from him and walked down the tulip strewn, cobblestoned path that led away from their home.

  *****

  Neither Angela nor Andrew mentioned the upcoming trip during the next few days. Angela didn't see or hear from him at all. Though, she told herself that she should have expected as much. Andrew had never been one to make hasty decisions.

  It wasn't until Thursday night. The night before she was about to leave that she received the text. She'd spent the evening packing and fielding questions from her mother about whether or not Andrew would be accompanying her.

  "I don't know mom," she told her for what felt like the millionth time. "He hasn't said for sure."

  "I would assume he would want to go," her mom said, putting Angela's nicest red dress in the suitcase. "I mean, the questions you have for Faith have to do with Andrew too. Besides, it'll be nice for the two of you to spend some time alone together again. Maybe talk things out."

  Angela rolled her eyes at her mother's knowing look. Though her parents had allowed her to move back into their home after Angela had told Andrew that she "needed some space", they were not at all happy about the separation.

  Andrew was the closest thing either of her adopted parents had to a son and they were not going to give him up without a fight.

  Angela had just placed the last of her folded socks in the folds of her suitcase when the text message on her phone dinged to life.

  'What time are you going to the airport?'

  Andrew asked.

  She stared at the message wondering how best to answer. For half a minute, she thought about not answering at all. Then, she could leave without him and simply say that she didn't receive the text he'd sent. But, she knew that, besides being cowardly on her part, Andrew was too smart not to see through that ploy.

  Besides, hadn't she told him that he was free to join her is he really wanted to? It would be more than a little flakey for her to back out of that now.

  Especially considering the fact that half of her wanted him to come along. The most hopeful part of her thought that, if her birth mother told her some well-known family affliction in detail, which could be fixed, Angela and Andrew would be able to pick right back up where they left off. And, it would be much more convenient to have her husband with her if t
hat happened.

  On the other hand, if...whatever was wrong with Angela couldn't be fixed. Or, worse, if her birth mother had never had any problems like Angela had, Angela knew she would have to give Andrew up for good. And that would be ten times more painful with him sitting next to her on a return flight. His warm, comforting hand an inch away from hers.

  Still, she had to give him an answer. So, just before she climbed into bed that night, she did.

  'The cab is coming at six o'clock,' she wrote. 'If you're coming, be outside the house at five forty-five.'

  When her alarm woke her up the next morning, she’d hardly slept. Her body was a bundle of pounding pulse and jumping nerves. Slowly, she threw off the covers and moved to the bathroom to get ready.

  A little over half an hour later, she walked down the stairs and into the kitchen. She was surprised to see Andrew waiting there for her a cup of coffee on the kitchen table in front of him.

  "Good morning," he said with a half apologetic and half hopeful smile.

  Angela had to fight the urge to smile back at him. She didn't want to give him hope that this little adventure would put them back together again. She didn't want to give herself that false hope either. Even if that was something she desperately wanted.

  Instead, she gave him a silent nod in greeting.

  "I thought you were going to wait outside at five forty-five," she said. "You're a little early."

  "Couldn't sleep," he answered. "I figured I'd get here as quick as I could. Your mom let me in."

  "Where is she?"

  "She went back upstairs. Said we needed some time to ourselves."

  Angela didn't doubt that. She nearly rolled her eyes at her mother's intrusion before turning to grab a coffee cup from the shelf and slowly pouring fresh coffee from the pot.

  No doubt, her mother had made that too.

  "So," she said turning back to Andrew, steaming cup of coffee in hand. "What made you decide to come?"

  He gave her a shrug that was completely undermined by the concentrated furrow in his brow.

  "I guess I figured that you shouldn't have to go through this alone," he said.

  His deep green eyes met hers and she felt that all too familiar shiver run down her spine.

  “I meant what I said. You don’t have to go. I’m a big girl. I can look after myself.”

  Even as she said this, she couldn’t help the urge to smile at him. She turned around and pretended to put sugar in her coffee, praying that he couldn't see the relief on her face.

  “I know you can,” he said. “But, this isn’t just about you. If you want to find out about...about having kids, then that affects me too. Doesn't it?"

  She turned back to face him. When she looked at his expression, so pleading and questioning, she felt a guilty knot form in her stomach. This was another sensation that was becoming all too familiar.

  Andrew's face told her what he wouldn't dare to ask her out loud. His eyes wondered if there was any hope left for them if she still wanted him in her life.

  Unable to speak, she gave him a small nod before turning back to her coffee. At that nod, that little sign of hope, she saw his face relax.

  Less than half an hour later, they were in a taxi on their way to the small airport that would take them to California.

  When they pulled into the airport terminal and checked their bags, Angela couldn’t help the strange tug of war that began to take hold in her heart.

  Half of her mind didn't want to get on that plane. Even as she walked towards the gate for the plane it reminded her what a horrible idea this was. What if her mother had no information for her at all? What if this woman only wanted to meet Angela so that she could ask her for money or something equally horrible? Would it be worth it in the end?

  The other half of Angela’s mind persisted in insisting that she had to know. That, if she didn’t see her mother now, she would spend the rest of her life asking ‘what if’. She might spend the rest of her marriage unable to have children, never knowing why.

  She looked to Andrew who silently took the seat next to hers on the plane. She thought about how she had made their entire relationship contingent upon the outcome of this one meeting.

  Then she told herself that wasn't exactly true. Not entirely at least.

  She had made their relationship contingent on whether or not she would be able to have children. On whether or not the problems inside her body were solvable.

  If she couldn't...well...she decided early on that she wouldn't saddle Andrew with a barren wife. Not when he dreamed of having a large family. It wouldn't be fair to either of them.

  Still, when she looked at him, eyes narrowed in concentration at the book in his hands; brow furrowed and his small pink lips pressed softly together, she knew it would be the most difficult thing she would ever have to do. Giving him up.

  She turned away from him, her eyes suddenly beginning to fill with tears. She leaned her head against the plane window and pressed her eyes closed, feeling one tear fall down her cheek.

  Silently, she sent a quick prayer up to God. She begged that her mother would tell her what she needed to hear. She prayed that her mother would be able to say exactly what was wrong, would be able to tell her how to fix it, how to make herself better.

  And, if her mother couldn't do that, Angela prayed for strength. Strength to let Andrew go. To let him find a new life.

  As the plane took off from the terminal, the nerves in Angela’s stomach began to feel like a pot of bubbling, boiling water. The sensation was familiar. She always got that way on planes.

  She kept her eyes closed, hoping that the sensation would stop soon.

  Suddenly, in mid-takeoff, she felt a warm hand once again land on her arm.

  Her eyes flew open and she looked over to Andrew. To her surprise, he was holding a small Tylenol pill and a bottle of sprite.

  Angela's eyes must have asked the question she couldn't quite voice because Andrew gave her a small smile and a shrug.

  "We were married for five years," he said. "I know how you get on planes. I also know what'll settle your stomach."

  "Thanks," Angela said quietly. She reached out her hand and took the sprite first. Then she took the Tylenol from his open palm. Her skin brushed against his open hand and she looked up, once again into those eyes.

  His smile brightened and caused her heart to flip in her chest inadvertently. She couldn't help but smile back at him.

  After she took the Tylenol and a sip of sprite, she felt her stomach began to ease. Whether it was because of the plane leveling out, the medication or the memory of Andrew's hand brushing against hers, she couldn't be sure.

  "Feeling better now, Angie?” she heard Andrew ask from the seat next to her.

  “Yeah,” she said turning to him,“Just a little nervous.”

  She attempted half a smile. He smiled back at her, understanding in his deep green eyes. He reached over and took her hand in his. Immediately, her heart began to settle, as did the boiling and bubbling in her stomach.

  Though a million questions still floated through her mind. Though God still hadn’t given her the answer she was looking for, she felt an odd sort of peace when she felt Andrew's hand pressed against hers.

  They stayed like that nearly the entire flight, hands entwined together. They talked occasionally, about simple things. Movies books, his work.

  He was doing another research paper about the Texas revolution. This paper was focused on the battle of the Alamo. It was his favorite subject and she knew he'd already written dozens of essays and papers on it all ready.

  "Do we win this time?" she asked with a cheeky smile.

  "Haha," he said with an eye roll. She laughed. Then, she realized that it was the first time she had done that, with Andrew at least, since the baby. Since she'd left him.

  She shoved the thought to the back of her mind and continued to caress his hand in hers.

  This, talking to Andrew again, holding hands, touching e
ach other lightly, playfully, all felt so familiar. So natural. Angela didn't want it interrupted by thoughts of what she had done or what she might have to do.

  They stayed in that familiar mode. Talking, laughing, touching until they reached the hotel.

  It wasn't until Andrew checked them in and they were given two separate keys to two separate rooms that the truth of their situation seemed to fall over them once more, like a dark cloud.

  As soon as they thanked the front desk clerk and took their keys and bags, a tense silence came between them. When they got into the elevator, they stood a good distance away from each other. Careful not to touch or speak.

  When they arrived on their floor, Andrew stopped in front of the door to his room which was right next to Angela's. Instinctively, she followed his lead.

  "What time are we meeting her tomorrow?" he asked.

  "Eleven o'clock," Angela said. "She wants to meet at a cafe about two blocks from the hotel."

  Andrew nodded.

  "I guess we'll meet in the lobby around ten thirty then?" he asked.

  "Sounds good," she said.

  Angela waited for him to say goodbye and move into his room, but he didn't. He stood there looking from her to his suitcase awkwardly as though trying to make some kind of decision.

  "Well, I guess I'll see you tomorrow," she said. Deciding it was best for both of them if she made the decision for them.

  She slid the key into the door and unlocked it. Just as she picked up her bag and made to head into the room, he called her back.

  "Angela," he said. She turned around to look at him. His eyes were focused and she knew instantly that he'd made the decision he'd been struggling with only minutes before.

  "I was wondering if, maybe, you wanted to get a drink," he said. "The hotel's got a bar. There's even a restaurant attached if you want dinner."

  Angela looked at him. Though his eyes kept darting around the room, refusing to meet hers, she could tell that he desperately wanted her to say yes. He wanted, no, needed the chance to try and win her back.

  But, Angela also knew that she couldn't give him that chance. Mostly because he never lost her. Not really. And, if he courted her again like he had before they got married, she knew she would give in to him. It would be the easiest thing in the world for her to give into him.