And then, not for the first time, she wondered if her parents knew more about her birth mother than what they’d given her in the file. She’d read those pages again and again, searching for some detail, some tiny clue, that she might have missed. There was nothing.
Frustrated, Natalie slammed her laptop shut. She didn’t have time for this. She needed to deliver the dessert order. Grabbing her coat and purse, she headed out the door and got into her car, driving toward the Sanctuary at Admiral, where the party was being held. Once she’d unloaded all of the boxes and carried them into the facility’s kitchen, she left, and intended to head home, but instead, she found herself driving in the direction of her parents’ house. Using the speaker function on her phone, she gave her mom a quick call to make sure it was all right for her to stop by.
“Of course,” her mom said. “I’m just getting the auction items ready for the shelter’s fund-raiser.” One of her mother’s charity projects was a local homeless shelter, for which she organized a yearly silent auction right before the winter holidays.
“Great,” Natalie said. “See you in a few.” At the next stoplight, she sent a text to Kyle, asking him what time he would be home, since that would affect how long she could visit her mom. His reply came quickly: “On my way now.”
“Kids should both be home by six. Playdates. Taco makings in the fridge. Going to my parents’.”
“OK,” he replied, and Natalie set her phone back in her purse, waving as the car behind her honked. The light had already turned green.
Her mother’s car was parked in the driveway when Natalie pulled up, but her father’s was gone. Likely he was still at work or out to dinner with clients. Natalie shut down her car’s engine and made her way to the front door, which her mother opened before Natalie had even knocked.
“Hi,” Natalie said, and her mother stepped to the side so Natalie could enter.
“Want something to drink?” her mom asked.
“No, thanks,” Natalie said. “I’m good.” She followed her mother into the family room, and they sat down on opposite ends of the couch.
“How are things going with Brooke?” Her mother smiled, but the muscles beneath the skin of her face twitched, giving away how much effort the question had demanded of her.
“I like her,” Natalie said, trying to choose her words carefully so as not to hurt her mother. “She met Kyle and the kids last week.” She considered telling her mother that Brooke was pregnant but then decided against it, not knowing if Brooke would be okay with her talking about it with someone she had yet to meet.
“How was that?”
“Good, for the most part. A little awkward here and there, which I guess is to be expected.” Natalie didn’t think her mother needed to hear about Kyle’s reservations about Brooke; that was between her and her husband.
Instead, Natalie chose to dive right into why she’d come. “I have to say, Mom, spending time with Brooke is making me think a lot more about my adoption. I just feel like there’s something else I need to know. Something you and Dad aren’t telling me.” Her mother’s eyelids fluttered, and she looked away, which convinced Natalie she was on the right track. She pressed on. “Do you know more about my birth mother than you’ve told me? Do you have more information than that file hidden away somewhere?”
Her mother held a closed fist to her mouth and shook her head, keeping her eyes on the floor.
Natalie fell back against the cushion. “Then what is it? Why are you so against me finding her?” Her mother finally looked up at Natalie, with tears in her eyes. Natalie’s frustration softened. “I know you lost a baby before you adopted me,” she said. “I know it took away your ability to have a child of your own. I can’t even imagine how hard that was for you and Dad to go through. But I’ve told you a thousand times you’re not going to lose me. I’m your daughter. I love you. I love Dad. I just want to know more about the woman who gave me up. Is that so difficult to understand?”
Her mother sniffled, and Natalie reached for a tissue from the box on the coffee table. She handed it to her mother, who took it and dabbed at the corners of her eyes. “I didn’t lose just one baby,” she said. Her voice was barely above a whisper.
“What?” Natalie gasped. “Oh, Mom—” she said, but her mother cut her off by holding up her hand.
“It wasn’t another miscarriage,” she said, “if that’s what you’re thinking.” She looked out the window, and then back at Natalie. “It was a year after my hysterectomy, when your father and I first decided to adopt. The agency connected us to a young girl who was seven months along. Back then, most adoptions were closed, but this girl wanted to meet us. We were so anxious to have a child, we did what she asked.”