“Oh my god,” Natalie said. “That’s terrible. I’m so sorry.”
Kyle shrugged, but Natalie could see the emotion clouding his dark eyes and it made her long for a way to comfort him. “It is what it is,” he said. “We get along on the surface now, but it’s probably a good thing he moved to L.A.” He cleared his throat, looked away for a moment, and then spoke again, returning his eyes to hers. “Most of the time, I feel like an only child, too.”
Natalie reached across the table and took his hand in hers. “I was adopted when I was six months old,” she said, surprised to hear the words coming out of her mouth. She hadn’t specifically planned to share this piece of her past with him, but it seemed like the right thing to do, especially after he’d just related such a raw, honest aspect of his relationship with his brother. There was something about Kyle—something that made her feel like she could tell him anything. “I lived in a car with my birth mother until she decided to give me up. My parents didn’t tell me anything about it until I was ten.”
“Why not?” Kyle asked, giving her hand a gentle squeeze. His grip was warm and reassuring; Natalie felt like she never wanted him to let go.
“I don’t really know. My mom hated whenever I brought it up after that, so I learned it was better to not talk about it at all. With anyone. I felt like it was something I needed to hide.”
“But you’re telling me.”
Natalie pressed her lips together and bobbed her head, once.
“That must have been hard, keeping such a big fact about your life to yourself.”
“It is what it is,” Natalie said, repeating the statement Kyle had used about his situation with his brother. “I don’t really think about it much.”
“Have you ever tried to find your birth mother?”
“No. It would break my parents’ hearts.”
“What about your heart?” Kyle asked, and Natalie’s eyes filled with tears, already sensing that the man sitting across from her was the one with whom she’d spend her life. He saw right through to the very core of her, and she saw into him, too. When he proposed a few months later, he took her back to that restaurant, got down on one knee, and said, “I want to build a family with you, Natalie. I want you to be the mother of my children, my partner in everything we do.” He choked up then, but didn’t bother to blink away the shine in his eyes. “I can’t fathom choosing anyone else but you.”
Now, remembering that moment nine years ago, Natalie felt an overwhelming surge of affection toward her husband. “That’s part of why I want to tell the kids,” she said. “I don’t want to hide anything from them.” She swallowed, hard, to keep the tears down. “We’ll keep it simple. On a level they can understand. But I need to tell them. Okay? I don’t want to lie to them about who Brooke is when she comes over for dinner this week.”
“Okay.” The next evening, after Kyle got home from work, he and Natalie sat down with the kids in the living room. Henry clambered up onto his father’s lap, and Hailey settled right next to Natalie, who wasn’t exactly sure how to start.
“So,” she finally said, “your dad and I have something we need to talk with you about.” She felt a strange sense of déjà vu, remembering how her parents had similarly sat her down in their living room to tell her that she was adopted.
“Are we getting a kitten?” Hailey said, her voice bright.
“I want a dog!” Henry said, wiggling excitedly on top of Kyle’s legs.
“Hold still, buddy,” Kyle said, clamping his arms around his son. “You’re hurting Daddy’s legs with your bony butt.”
“Bony butt! Bony butt!” Henry chanted, and Natalie flashed Kyle an imploring look.
“That’s enough, kiddo,” Kyle said, nodding at Natalie, which she took as encouragement to continue.
“Mommy needs to tell you something about herself, actually,” Natalie said.
“What?” Hailey asked, bouncing on the cushion, causing Natalie to jiggle, too. She put a hand on her daughter’s shoulder, stopping the movement.
“Well,” Natalie said, “you know how Azim was adopted by his parents?”
“Azim is E-thi-o-pian,” Hailey said, carefully pronouncing the country’s name. “That’s in Africa.”
“That’s right,” Kyle said. “But why don’t we stop interrupting Mommy and let her finish. Okay?”
“Okay!” Henry shouted.
“So,” Natalie said, “the first part of my news is that when Mommy was a baby, she was adopted, too. Gramma and Grampa chose me to be their little girl.” Her throat closed around these last words, remembering how she’d felt the first time her parents had spoken them to her.
“But, Mommy, what happened to your real mom?” Hailey asked, looking up at Natalie with her big round eyes.
“Gramma is my real mom, honey,” Natalie said. “She’s the one who raised me. The woman who carried me in her tummy is called my ‘birth mother.’?”