Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 88290 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 441(@200wpm)___ 353(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88290 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 441(@200wpm)___ 353(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
“No, no, no. There will be no more asking Aaron for anything. He already bought that house your brother was living in in Palo Alto to give them a home, and I’m worried that if he can’t sell it, then––”
“It’s sold already,” Kola said, squinting at me. “And it sold for more than he paid. He’s fine with everything, and he told me that we did a good job on the yard.”
My kids would never learn anything if Aaron just paved the way for them in gold.
“Well, we’re going to find an apartment the old-fashioned way,” I informed them both.
“On the internet,” Hannah said, cackling.
Kola was laughing then, and it was a good sound.
“I love you,” I told him.
“I love you back,” he said, still chuckling. “So stop worrying about stuff.”
I promised I would, and once he hung up, I found my daughter eyeing me.
“What?”
“You know, I wanted to do the DNA thing. Uncle Aaron said he would do it privately so other people couldn’t see my results, but I thought, what’s the point of that? Then I’m the only one who knows something, and only I can make contact with people who are biologically related to me? I mean, that hardly seems fair.”
“Sure.”
“If you’re going to do it, then do it, yes?”
“Yes.”
She took a breath, then continued. “But then I thought, do I want to do this? Because really, what will it accomplish?”
“You might need a liver or something,” I replied drolly.
Quick shake of her head. “Like you and Dad wouldn’t find me a liver.”
I would. She was right. I would do anything for her.
“So it’s not that. In fact the whole medical thing, unlike Kola who’s far more logical than me, never even entered my mind.”
“Okay.”
“But I thought, why? What am I hoping to accomplish? Is there something missing in my life? Will knowing precisely where I came from help me in some way? I mean, I know what town in Uruguay I was born in. I know when. Chasing down an answer if I needed to know wouldn’t be that hard.”
“You’re right.”
“But the more I thought about it, the more I thought, it’s not necessary. I’m me, they’re them, and I’m not upset about being put up for adoption. The reason isn’t important to me because my life has been great. I’m very blessed and I know that, and the thing is, if I could change it, I wouldn’t. I want you and Dad. I don’t want different parents. I mean, I remember years ago when we watched that movie with Meg Ryan about how she looks at an old man and wishes she was him just so she wouldn’t be scared about being young and making mistakes—I don’t remember, it’s something like that, but it turns out the old man was thinking he wanted to be young again at the exact same time.”
An old movie, Prelude to a Kiss. I didn’t remember even liking it, but apparently it had made some sort of impression on her.
“After I saw that movie, I always worried about thinking oh I wish I had that bike or that car or that necklace, because what if someone was looking at me at the same time and then suddenly, we got switched. And they would get to live with you and Dad and Kola and I’d be left alone without my family.”
She looked forlorn, so I walked over and hugged her. I was surprised at how tight I was squeezed and the slight tremble that went through her.
“We’ll always be with you, you know that. Even when your father and I are no longer here, the love remains.”
She nodded, not letting me go, and when Sam came in the back door minutes later, he found us both crying.
“What the hell?” he growled.
She turned from me and lunged at him, arms around him, face pressed into his chest, and he instantly clutched her tight.
“Why is she crying?”
“Why are you asking me in that accusing tone?”
“Is this about you worrying that they would have been better off with a mother growing up instead of the person that loves them the most, along with me, in the world?”
“I don’t do that anymore,” I insisted.
“You do, and then you think you need to celebrate motherhood with all your friends to make them feel appreciated, and you do too much.”
“See,” Hannah said, sniffling. “You do do that.”
God.
“Make this the last one,” Sam told me. “Send everybody cards next year. Christ.”
I sighed deeply.
“Do I think mothers should all be thanked more? Hell yes. Do I think all parents should be better appreciated? Fuck yeah. But I also think teachers should make a lot more money and get a ton more fuckin’ support. If I was in charge of everything, so many things would be different. But at the moment, in this house, we’re doin’ pretty good. and you’ve been a kick-ass parent, okay?”