“I did,” Brooke said, feeling the tingle of impending tears behind her eyes. Was this really happening?
“Well, then, Ms. Walker,” Sarah said, “I’m happy to tell you that your sister recently completed a profile on our website and our search engine made a match with the data you both provided.” She paused. “Of course, as we are only a not-for-profit organization and not a legal entity, we cannot guarantee that this woman is, in fact, your sister.”
Brooke’s heart sank. “But you just said . . .”
“I know,” Sarah said. “The data looks very much like a match, but I’m required to tell you that any official verification of relationship, if you so choose it, would be your responsibility.” She waited a moment, and when Brooke was quiet, Sarah spoke again. “I understand this is an overwhelming moment for you. I went through something similar when I received the call about the son I’d given up for adoption. He came looking for me here, and after we found each other, I started volunteering for the organization.”
“Oh,” Brooke said, “that’s nice.” It felt like a lame response, but it was the only one she could come up with in the midst of her stupor. Natalie wants to see me, she thought. After thirty-five years. Or seventeen, if Brooke counted from the moment Natalie turned eighteen and didn’t need her adoptive parents’ permission to search Brooke out. Brooke’s stomach twisted, wondering why her sister had waited so long. Was she sick? Does she need something only Brooke could give her, like bone marrow or a lung? Was she reaching out not because she wanted to, but because she had to?
“Natalie has asked for permission to call you,” Sarah said, interrupting the questions eddying in Brooke’s mind. “I can’t give out your contact information without your approval. She also offered to email first, if that would be more comfortable for you.”
“No,” Brooke said, looking around her tiny studio, wondering what her sister would think of how she lived. And of the fact that, in seven months, she would be an aunt. Brooke swallowed back an itch in her throat. “It’s okay. She can call me.”
“I can give you her number, too,” Sarah said, “if you’d like to call her, instead. She indicated she’s fine with whatever you want to do.”
“Have you already spoken with her?” Brooke asked.
“No, but we’ve emailed. She seems like a lovely person. At least, her emails were lovely.”
The muscles in Brooke’s belly relaxed. “That’s good to know. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” Sarah said. “Let me give you her number and I’ll pass yours along to her. Do you want me to set up a time for the call, so you’ll know when it’s coming?”
“I don’t think so,” Brooke said. “I’ll probably just call her right now.”
Sarah laughed. “I said the same thing about calling my son. I couldn’t dial fast enough.” She gave Brooke Natalie’s number, and wished her luck. “Call us if you need anything,” she said. “We’re here to help.”
After they hung up, Brooke stared at the number she’d written down for a good, long time. It was local, with a 206 area code, which likely meant that her sister still lived in Seattle proper. That she, like Brooke, had grown up here. Close, but not together. Brooke wondered what Natalie’s life had been like, if she had other siblings that had taken Brooke’s place and made her presence in Natalie’s life unnecessary. How would she feel, meeting them? Or meeting the couple that had wanted to adopt Natalie but not Brooke? And what if this woman wasn’t her sister? What if the registry had gotten it wrong? If Brooke did decide to meet her, she could be setting herself up for disappointment, like she had with Claire. Brooke was certain she couldn’t go through something like that again.
But what if it was Natalie who’d found her? What if she didn’t have to be alone anymore? This thought made tears spring to Brooke’s eyes, and she wished she had someone to talk with, but the person she’d been closest to was Ryan, and for all intents and purposes, their relationship was over. And it wasn’t like he knew anything about her past.
Her phone beeped, indicating she had a text, and she quickly checked it, thinking perhaps Natalie had decided that text messaging would be an easier way to connect than having an actual conversation. Her pulse sped up as she read another note from Ryan. “Please call me,” it said. “We have to figure this out.”
Brooke tapped on the reply box and typed in a short reply: “There’s nothing to figure out. I’m having the baby. You don’t want to be involved. The end.” She pressed send, and then decided to say one more thing. “Stop calling me. Stop texting. It’s over. I don’t want to see you again.” She sent that message, too, and when the phone rang in her hands only seconds later, she jerked and accidentally dropped it. It skittered across the hardwood floor.