Chapter 14 - Abby
I SHOULDN’T BE HERE. I’m a bad daughter. My parents would be so hurt if they knew I was standing in this house, seeking comfort in the arms of my biological father. But there’s nowhere else I’d rather be.
My tears come so fast, they quickly soak through the patch of T-shirt where my face is buried in his chest. This man whom I never knew, yet I feel like I’ve known him all my life. At least, I should have known him.
Maybe then I wouldn’t have felt so different. So alone. I chose to major in business at NC State because my mom scoffed at my suggestion that I should major in music. And now I see that she didn’t discourage me because she thought pursuing a career in music is impractical. She’s known who my biological father is all along.
My brother plays the guitar. My father is a famous musician. And he gives the warmest hugs.
I push away gently as this shameful thought crosses my mind. “I’m sorry. I just…” Caleb steps forward and wraps his arm around my shoulder, giving it a light squeeze. “I’ve been begging my parents to tell me your names and… now I know why they didn’t and I don’t know if I’m more angry or glad. I’m sorry.”
“You don’t have to be sorry. Actually, I apologize that I didn’t introduce us by name. I’m Chris and this is Claire.”
“I… I know who you are,” I say, suddenly feeling a bit embarrassed.
Now I understand why my mom always tells me to change the song when she passes by my room and hears me listening to a Chris Knight song. I thought she just didn’t like his music, though I did find a couple of his old albums in the music library on her laptop. I just assumed she had grown out of that kind of music.
He smiles at me and I get a weird feeling as I recall how I once discussed his hotness with Amy when we were talking about handsome older men. That is so gross. I think Amy even talked about the things she would do with him. Blech!
“You know, you can call us whatever you want. You can call us Chris and Claire. You can call us Mr. and Mrs. Knight. You can just say, ‘Hey, turkey!’ whenever you see me. Whatever makes you comfortable.”
Claire smacks his arm then shakes her head. “You can call me Claire or whatever you feel most comfortable with. I… I grew up in the foster care system, so I never really knew how to address the foster parents who took me into their homes. I understand this is probably very weird for you.”
I nod and press my lips together to keep from getting emotional. How is it that these people whom I’ve never met already know me so well?
“Did my parents talk to you about me?”
Chris’s face screws up a little as he shakes his head. “No, they didn’t communicate with us at all after your first birthday. The only contact we had with them were the photos and videos we exchanged through a safe-deposit box.”
“I saw those,” I whisper, thinking of the picture I saw of my sister holding a photo of me.
Claire tilts her head. “Do you have the pictures with you? We can go through them with you, if you’d like.”
I shake my head. “I don’t have them.”
I don’t feel good about this lie, but there’s no way I could sit by and quietly listen as she explains to me all the happy memories that go with each photograph. But there’s no nice way to explain that. And, for some odd reason, I really want to be nice to them.
I want to be worthy of the love they have obviously carried for me all these years.
Chris nods toward the kitchen. “Come on. I’ll make you guys some lunch.”
Caleb finally speaks up. “We just ate a couple of hours ago.”
“Actually,” I begin. “Do you mind if I go outside to make a phone call?”
“You can make a phone call in here,” Claire replies quickly. “I mean, unless you want some privacy. Of course, go ahead. We’ll… be right here.”
I look up at Caleb then nod toward the front door. He leads the way and we head outside. I know she’s not behind me, but I can feel Claire’s desire to come after me. Even from across the room and with my back turned. Her desperation is palpable.
As soon as we’re outside and Caleb closes the front door behind us, I call Amy. She picks up on the first ring. When Caleb dropped her off at her house, I told her I would call her as soon as I opened the safe-deposit box. That was more than two hours ago and she’s probably freaking out.
“What happened?” she shrieks, unable to contain her excitement.
“Amy, I’m here… at my birth parents’ house.”
“WHAT?” she yelps.
I hold the phone a couple of inches away from my ear as I continue. “Their contact information was included on a memory card in the box, along with a bunch of pictures. I can’t tell you everything or you’ll freak out, but I need you to tell my parents that Caleb and I went to his apartment and he’s taking me back home tonight. Just tell them I needed some time to cool off.”
“Abby, what are you doing? Are you trying to buy some time so you can get a new identity and leave the country with Caleb?”
I laugh. “Just please tell them that. I just need some time to process everything. Okay?”
She’s silent for a moment. “Okay. But you’d better tell me everything when you get back. I hate being in the dark.”
We say our good-byes and Caleb is smiling at me. “What?”
“You… I don’t even know how to say this.”
“What? Just say it.”
He lets out a soft chuckle and shakes his head. “You’ve known them for, like, two seconds and…”
My smile disappears as I anticipate he’s going to criticize me for being a bad daughter.
“It’s like…” he continues, still trying to find the right words. “Like you’ve always belonged here.”
I slide my phone into my pocket and try to focus on taking deep breaths. “This is all so weird. I never, ever in a million years expected this. I never expected to…” I can’t finish this sentence. I can’t say that I never expected to be wanted.
Just as this thought crosses my mind, the front door opens and I’m not surprised to see Claire standing at the threshold. “Is everything okay?” she asks as she steps outside.
I nod, but I don’t say what I’m thinking. What I’m really thinking is that everything is not okay. It’s nowhere close to okay. And I’m totally okay with that.