Once there, Natalie did her best to steady the turmoil she felt and let the skills she’d learned as a lawyer take over. Having a breakdown wasn’t going to help her find her birth mother. She told herself that if Kyle could focus on the facts of a situation, she could, too. She’d just pretend she was researching a case.
Feeling determined—hungry for more information—she sat down at the kitchen table and lifted the folder out of the box, flipping through it again. There really wasn’t much detail on the pages, mostly legal terminology and discussion of fees paid to the state for the adoption. Her birth mom was referred to as the “surrendering party.” Is that what she had done? Natalie wondered. Surrendered her daughters? Did she surrender her feelings, right along with her rights?
A moment later, her eyes landed on the name of a social worker, Gina Ortiz. Natalie wondered if this woman could help—if she knew more about the situation than the file held. She got up and grabbed her laptop from the coffee table in the living room. Back at the kitchen table, she turned on the machine, and after it had booted up, she opened the browser, then typed, “Gina Ortiz Washington State social worker” into the search engine. She had no idea how old this woman might be, if she was working or if she’d retired long ago. For all Natalie knew, Gina Ortiz could be dead. But if her days as a lawyer had taught her anything, it was that almost every person left a paper trail. All she would have to do was find Gina’s.
Natalie scanned the results on the screen. A link to the Washington State Department of Health’s website was the first to come up, so she clicked on it, wondering if there was a list of individual social workers on the site. She found none, so she navigated back to the results page, where she clicked on another link—an association for social workers who were accredited to provide supervision to those new in the profession. But Gina Ortiz was nowhere to be found on the alphabetized list.
Discouraged, Natalie opened another page and brought up the Department of Health website again, deciding she would just pick up the phone and call them. She pulled her cell phone from her purse, punching in the appropriate numbers. An automated system answered, so Natalie pressed 0, knowing that would at least give her a real person with whom to speak. “I’m looking for a current, or possibly former, social worker,” she explained to the operator. “Her name is Gina Ortiz. I need her address and cell phone, if possible.”
“I’m sorry,” the woman said. “I don’t have access to that information.”
Natalie hung up, frustrated, and drummed her fingers on the table next to her computer, staring at the screen until another idea struck her. She hit redial on her phone, and waited for the operator to answer again. “Hello,” she said, in a much louder, more nasal voice than the one she’d used on her initial call. “Can you connect me with Shelly Philips, please?” Natalie used a name she had seen on the top of the association of social workers list, where Shelly Philips’s title included lead caseworker at the Department of Health. She would have asked to speak with Human Resources, but Natalie worried privacy laws might prevent them from giving out an employee’s personal information; Gina’s supervisor wouldn’t be held back by the same restrictions.
“Of course,” the operator said. “I’ll transfer you.”
“This is Shelly,” a woman’s voice answered.
“I’m wondering if you can help me,” Natalie said, switching back to her normal voice. “I’m a family law attorney who worked with Gina Ortiz on a custody case, and I’ve lost her contact information. Do you know how I can reach her?”
“I’m sorry, but Gina retired several years ago.”
“Oh,” Natalie said. “I didn’t realize. Do you happen to have her forwarding information? I need to touch base with her on some specifics of the case. It’s being revisited by the court.”
“Are you sure I can’t help you?”
“I’m sure,” Natalie said. “She was well acquainted with the guardian ad litem, so I really need to speak directly with her.”
“Let me see what I have on file,” Shelly said. Natalie heard the clacking of the other woman’s fingers on her keyboard, and before she knew it, Shelly was reciting Gina Ortiz’s phone number.
“Thank you so much,” Natalie said as she read back the ten digits, to make sure she’d gotten it right. “I appreciate it. Have a great day.” She hung up, feeling more than a little pleased with herself. Then, after opening another page on her browser, Natalie punched Gina’s name and phone number into a reverse directory and came up with her current address, which she jotted down, as well.
Staring at the numbers, she debated whether or not she should call Gina, or if she should just show up at the woman’s front door. What if she slammed the door in her face? Natalie wondered.
But then again, what if she didn’t?
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