by Heidi Lis
“Where the hell is Trevor?” His eyes are searching behind me, expecting Trevor to show his face.
“Um… back at the office waiting for you to finish up. I told him I’d bring these over instead. Why, what’s wrong?” Holding the boxes, I don’t see the issue with me being here.
Lowering his face, he sighs. “Nothing, it’s been a really long day. Why don’t you leave the boxes and head back and tell Trevor we need him.”
“Okay, where’s Micah?” Looking around the bushes for some reason, thinking he’s somewhere outside I ask Matt. It’s dark out, so it’s difficult to focus.
“Um… he’s inside finishing things up.” He says without looking me in the eyes.
The way he’s fumbling with his words raises red flags. My insecurities start to boil, and the only thing I want, is to find Micah and let him know I’m here. It’s been hours since I’ve heard from him. Suddenly hearing loud voices coming from inside I snap my head back thinking how odd it was that someone would be raising their voice at all.
My eyes swiftly shift back to Matt only to find him covering his face with his hands, lightly cussing to himself.
“Listen El, let us finish up so we can get done with this install. He can explain later, when he sees you.” He looks wiped out, like he’d rather be anywhere but here.
“No, don’t think so,” I say with a sneer. “I want to see him now.”
Instead of waiting for his answer, I walk right into the house calling out Micah’s name. No need to wait long, I instantly see him holding a child as he’s in deep conversation with…Carla Mitchell. How wonderful and completely bizarre.
“What’s going on?” I say louder than necessary.
Micah stiffens. “Elsa, what are you doing here?” Saying he was surprised to see me is an understatement. I believe the word uncomfortable is how I would describe him at the moment.
Really? “Um…my job. I brought the last few boxes you needed and left Trevor back at the office. Now, is there a reason she’s raising her voice, and you are holding her son?” I point from Micah to Carla.
Micah shrugs his shoulder. “He was fussy, came to me, so I picked him up. For some reason he got quiet when I held him, so I’m taking advantage of the time now that her son is quiet to explain. She was talking loud because he was fussy.”
Glancing from Micah back to Carla, I feeling like I’ve entered the twilight zone. She’s holding the manual looking frazzled and asking him questions. Not giving me a second thought. Micah looks so uncomfortable, I would laugh if I wasn’t so upset. I keep telling myself it’s silly, but for some strange reason, I don’t feel like I want to kill him. I know deep down he would never cheat on me, and my insurance is knowing Matt would never allow it to happen. An added benefit of Micah working with his brother, I guess.
Walking over to Micah, without a second thought, I hold out my arms and the little boy comes willingly. I never bothered to ask Carla if it was alright to do so. She doesn’t seem bothered that I did that. She just continues with her many questions, holding Micah’s undivided attention. Either she doesn’t have a clue how to use her new system, or she’s using it as an excuse to keep Micah longer than necessary. Well, guess what, I’m not leaving until he does, so she might want to take notes.
The little boy is really quite sweet and seems more than comfortable in my arms. At first it was odd, but after a few minutes I swayed him back and forth and before long, he drifted off to sleep. So many different emotions flutter in my head and my heart.
Carla lets out a ‘huh.’ “I’m amazed, he was so fussy. Once Micah held him, he completely stopped, and now you put him to sleep. I might need to borrow you both at night, he keeps me up to the wee hours of the morning.” Yeah, I bet she would like Micah here at night with her.
Poor baby, he’s totally fine right now. Maybe it’s his mother.
“How do you know Cindy Winters?” I blurt it out, not even thinking if it was proper or not.
“What?” She tries to act surprised, but the look she’s giving me tells me she almost expected the question. Odd!
“Well, she’s an old friend,” she nervously plays with her shirt sleeves. “Why do you ask?” Her mouth keeps moving, but her eyes won’t acknowledge me.
She’s not a good liar.
“I’m her daughter.” I say it slowly.
“Oh…I see.” It’s all she says, continuing to keep her hands busy. Turning her attention back to Micah she decides she suddenly understands how to use the new system and that her husband should be home tomorrow night. He would be in touch if they needed any further instructions or questions. With that, she eagerly wants to dismiss us.
She takes her sleeping son from my arms and he stirs. Upon opening his eyes, I notice how beautifully blue they are. He’s so unbelievably breathtaking. A look of terror washes over his face as he wails. Loudly. Matt walks in with an odd expression on his face. He gives Micah a nod before letting Carla know he’s finished. With a crying son, she pushes us out the door, wanting to put her son to bed.
“Good Lord, that was weird.” I can’t help saying.
“Yep, sure was.” Matt can’t help chuckling.
Wrapping his hand around my shoulder, Micah whispers in my ear. “Let’s get the hell out of here.”
Matt drove the truck and Micah came home with me. The rest of the night, Micah’s quiet, and it leaves me with an unsettled feeling. Something doesn’t seem right. In fact, the night ends on a quiet note. I let it go…for now.
Saturday morning, I’m barely awake and feel cold. It’s obvious I’m alone in bed. No wake up kiss or anything. Stumbling from our bedroom, I hear Micah having a conversation. Apparently, he’s on the phone. Keeping his voice hushed, he sounds tense. I find it odd and unsettling, especially with his odd behavior last night. Walking closer to the living room, my stomach flutters anxiously when I notice Micah hunched over sitting on the couch.
“No man, what if he’s wrong?” Stretching his head back, he rubs the back of his neck. Yep, he’s tense.
“Hell if I know, he’s the one that needs to make sure before I go telling her a word.”
I must have made a noise because Micah turns his head feigning a fake smile. Rolling my eyes, I give him a look like really?
“Got to go.” He says switching off his phone.
“Hey babe, how long you been up?” He fails miserably in his attempt to cover up his conversation.
“Don’t you mean how much did I actually hear?” I correct him.
“Shit,” he lets out an angry sigh. “This is exactly what I was trying to avoid.”
“What are you trying to avoid?” I ask, not moving an inch.
Holding out his hand, his fingers move and welcomes me. “Come here.”
Sitting, I’m forced to listen to a very sordid story and I’m in total disbelief. I can’t begin to comprehend what he’s saying. Tyler, the man Matt hired to help him, was either a miracle worker or he was just plain nuts. My mind’s spinning, and I’m not sure what to think. I soon realize there is only one place I can go to get the answers I need. It’s the last place I want to get them.
Driving to my parents, I’m silently shaking my head that any of this holds much truth. All this time, how can this be? Could they have known all of this time? Why? It makes no sense.
I walk right in without even knocking, I’m shouting my parents’ names, as I sprint through the house looking for them. Micah hasn’t said a word since we left our house, a part of me wanted to come alone to get my answers, but I needed him here. This concerns him as well.
“Mother!”
“Dad!”
No answer.
“Jesus Christ, where are they?” I shout again a few more times, this time I go straight to their room. Knowing my mother, I know where she most likely keeps things. Her private things, she stores in her closet in a box way in the back. Funny how I seem to do the exact same thing.
Finding the black velvet box, I’m afraid to open it. I’
m afraid what I’ll find. My hands shake as I slide the box between my legs. Taking a breath, I look over my shoulder to Micah, who slowly sinks to his knees behind me.
My hands shake, my breath halts. “Well, let’s see if there are any secrets in here.”
I only get a faint head nod from him. His eyes tear up, not knowing what I might uncover. Cautiously lifting the lid, it has blue tissue paper covering it. It seems my mother keeps her things neatly stored.
Moving the tissue back, I notice the stack of envelopes, and my heart plummets. I’m hesitantly moving the tissue back careful not to rip it. Sure enough, I see the name I feared I would find. Sometimes, it hurts even more to be right. At the moment I wanted to be wrong. But I was disappointed once again, knowing what I may uncover makes my heart skip a beat or two.
“Carla Mitchell,” I say thumbing through every last one. “They are all from Carla Mitchell.” I’m in total disbelief.
I say it, but don’t even look back at Micah, because he knows it as well. We both realize what I’m about to uncover.
I look at the dates on the envelopes, praying they don’t date back to around four years ago, but to my astonishment they do. Somber filled tears stream down my cheeks. The letters are in order from newest to oldest. I slowly read the dates, feeling sick. I feel betrayed and downright lied to. At the bottom of the box is a thicker letter that catches my immediate attention. It reads Contract.
What the hell?
Holding the letter so Micah can get a better look, he reads the words, wondering what they mean. I don’t wait, I open the damn thing. Scanning the document it looks legal, it has names, dates and oh my God!
NO!
NO!
NO!
How could they?
My fingers freeze and I’m holding this piece of paper in an iron grip. Seething mad, idle threats escape my lips as I read the details word for hurtful word. Said minor Elsa Winters is willingly giving said child to Mark and Carla Mitchell for adoption. Reading further, I’m morbidly stricken to find out my parents got compensation for the adoption. I’m definitely going to throw up. I’m frantically trying to comprehend that they took payment for my child. The document is notarized, but no mention of a lawyer or Catholic Charities is ever mentioned. Hell, I’m not sure this thing is even legal. As I toss the papers to the floor, Micah is quick to pick them up reading them. He’s not saying one word and the fact he is dead silent terrifies me. I’d rather have him screaming or throwing my mom’s shoes. That way I’d know what he was thinking or feeling right now.
Rocking from side to side, my tears slide faster, when I hear the first sob escape Micah’s throat. How is it even possible? My parents lied to me all this time, never saying one word to me. They’ve been getting letters and pictures of a child they never wanted a thing to do with from day one. They treated me so poorly, and what’s worse is they made MONEY off of me!
Nauseated and weak I say, “They got paid twenty-five thousand dollars for my son. How the hell could they?” Dropping the last page I can’t help feeling numb.
“I’ve got no clue, but I will find out answers. They will explain themselves.” Rubbing my shoulders, Micah lets out an uneasy sigh. “While digging in your past Tyler found the name Carla Mitchell. He never found a trace that led back to Catholic Charities anywhere. I just wanted to make sure before I said a word to you.” He slowly lays his head on my back, and I understand why he would want to make sure before he said a word to me. He’d never want to upset me unless he absolutely had to.
Micah explained that he found this out right before her scheduled install appointment. It’s the reason he never asked her to find a new security company. He needed to make sure it was indeed this Carla Mitchell, who had our son. The same Carla Mitchell, who was so called friends with my parents.
What a small fucking world.
We hear a noise coming from downstairs, we go meet my parents in the kitchen their hands full of groceries.
“Well hello,” my mom says before her eyes go wide. “Oh, Micah you're here, too?”
“That I am.” He says with obvious distaste.
I’m holding my mother’s box containing the letters and photos. As her eyes focus on the box, she drops her bags of groceries. My dad curses, looking at the broken spaghetti sauce, not at what I’m holding in my hands. Taking a minute to try and regain her composure, my mother cautiously raises her eyes to see me glaring back at her. Without words, I’m mentally asking my mom how she could do this. To me, her daughter. Turning back to look at Micah, his arms are crossed, and I swear his are pressed together so tightly, they are turning white.
“Well, I see we need to talk.” My dad finally acknowledges my angry stare, now that my focus is centered on him.
“I’m all ears,” I say trembling.
“What do you know?” He asks all rational and reasonable like.
“Enough, why don’t you start from the beginning?” Both Micah and I say for a lack of better words. My dad realizes he not only needs to answer to me, he needs to answer to Micah, as well.
“Let's go and sit in the living room.” My dad says as he ushers his hand to lead the way.
My parents are on the couch looking uncomfortable. Micah, and I sit in the newly upholstered loveseat. It’s the perfect place to sit since it’s directly across from them. My leg bounces so violently, Micah has to put his hand on my knee to contain it. I never put the box down, I just hold it.
“We wanted to tell you, your mother and I. It just got too hard, and we were so disappointed in you.” My dad says with such lack of authority, he’s totally withdrawn. His words are shallow and empty.
My mom sits, crying and fidgeting with the hem of her dress. Her eyes are everywhere but on me. My dad continues to tell his story of how my aunt Peggy had a friend of a friend who was desperate to adopt a child, the only problem was the agencies said it could take years to find a suitable child. My aunt, to my utter shock, facilitated this partnership with my parents. It was never even legal. The Mitchell’s had a criminal record, so they never stood a chance at getting a child through the legal channels. Some sort of felony fraud crime that would have stopped any chance they ever had of adopting a child.
My parents overlooked that important, fine detail. I think they felt overjoyed finding a solution to my problem, no their problem. Much to their surprise Carla insisted on sending pictures and letters, letting my parents know how grateful she and her husband were.
“The money. Why the money?” I can’t wrap my head around the fact they profited from it.
“We felt they should have to pay something, and decided we could set it aside for you, Elsa. We just didn’t know how to give it to you without an explanation as to where it came from. To be honest, we thought it would be wiser to make sure he went to college, instead. The Mitchell’s don’t know this, but it’s another reason we liked being in contact with them. It’s a way to make sure we know he’s doing okay and then someday, we could help pay for his education.” My mom’s lost her mind. She’s smiling like this is good news!
“Are you serious right now?” I’m damn near left speechless, hearing this so called plan they had.
Micah’s coming unglued, the moans escaping his throat are more of a growl. “How the hell could you sell my kid and never tell Elsa any of it? You treated her so badly, yet you took the money? What kind of sick people do that?”
“Listen here boy,” My dad scowls.
“Don’t you boy me, you bastard.” Micah jumps to his feet. “You're lucky I don’t haul off and kick your ass, old man.”
“Stop! I can’t have you fighting. Tell me the rest. I want to know it all.” I’m all but yanking Micah to sit back down. If forced to, I’ll sit on his lap to keep him from mauling my dad. Well at least until I hear the rest of their story.
Over the next hour, we sat and listened to my parents explain the why’s and how’s of what took place. It was more than a shock when my mom found out Carla was using Taylor Sec
urity for her services. She knew right then and there I was going to find out the truth. The hardest part was listening to the way Carla had taken the news that the girl working for Taylor Securities was actually her child’s birth mother.
Carla took the news hard only because while she didn’t see me as a threat to her plans to seduce Micah, her baby was my and Micah’s biological child. That devastated her… and her wild fantasies.
“Are you kidding me MOM! Did you even stick up for me in your sweet talks with Carla-I-want-to-sink-my-teeth-into-Micah-Taylor? He’s with ME! And she has MY SON! Where is your loyalty to me?”
“I don’t know Elsa, I’m just telling you the truth.” Oh finally, it’s only five years too late but hey, who’s counting?
Biting my lower lip, I shake my head in disbelief. “I held him you know?” No idea why I care if she knows this, but GOD ALMIGHTY maybe if I can find a way to break into her icy cold heart, she might begin to understand how I’m feeling.
“What?” All the blood drains from her face.
“Yeah Micah held him, too. He took a liking to him during her install.” I’m taken aback, realizing we both held our son, but never had any idea. No words can describe the emotions running through my body.
“We held him El, we held our son.” As if he’s just now realizing this, his hand trembles against my shoulder.
Oh Micah. There are no words to even begin to describe how epic a moment we had and never knew it. I simply say, “I…know.”
Tears and sobs overtake my weary body, I’m a mess, and once again, I’m totally broken. Lost and hurt at the hands of my parents. Just when I thought they could never top how much they’ve hurt me…they do again.