Chương 13
She gave a small, ashamed smile.
“I had seventy-three dollars.”
Emma looked down.
“I kept thinking somebody would ask whether I wanted to try.”
“Did anyone?”
“Not really.”
“That’s not the same as being forced.”
“I know.”
Rebecca’s eyes sharpened.
“I’m not saying it is.”
Emma nodded.
Rebecca took a breath.
“I signed because I was scared that keeping him would prove everyone right about me. Then after I signed, I was scared wanting him back would prove I was selfish.”
Emma remembered being twenty-seven and waiting for the agency to call.
She remembered wanting the birth mother to sign.
She remembered hating herself for wanting it.
“Did you try to revoke consent?”
“No.”
“Why did you tell Daniel you thought you could get him back?”
Rebecca closed her eyes.
“Because I was angry.”
Emma waited.
“My mother told me before placement that if I changed my mind quickly, there were procedures. I turned that into something bigger in my head. By the time I talked to Daniel, I had spent years rehearsing the story where everybody tricked me.”
She rubbed her forehead.
“The paperwork doesn’t say that.”
“You’ve seen it?”
“Yes. I requested copies.”
Emma looked at Marisol.
Marisol said nothing.
Rebecca continued.
“I’m not trying to undo his adoption.”
Emma realized how tightly she had been holding herself.
“What do you want?”
Rebecca looked directly into the camera.
“I want him to know I didn’t forget him.”
Emma’s eyes burned.
“He asked if you didn’t want him.”
Rebecca covered her face.
For several seconds she could not speak.
When she lowered her hands, she was crying, but quietly.
“No.”
Emma looked away.
“I told him that.”
“Thank you.”
“I also told him I only knew what I had been told.”
Rebecca nodded.
“That’s fair.”
“He said maybe it was wrong.”
Rebecca almost laughed through her tears.
“That sounds like a kid.”
“That sounds like him.”
They both smiled.
It was the first thing they shared.
Not motherhood.
Not history.
A seven-year-old’s suspicion of adult certainty.
After the call, Emma sat alone for ten minutes.
Then she went upstairs.
Noah was awake beneath his blanket with a flashlight and a book he was pretending not to read after bedtime.
“You talked to her?”
“Yes.”
He sat up.
“What did she say?”
“A lot.”
“Did she know Eli?”
Emma smiled.
“She named you Eli.”
His eyes widened.
“Why?”
“Her grandfather.”
“Was he cool?”
“I didn’t ask.”
“You should have.”
“I had other priorities.”
He considered that disappointing.
Emma sat on the edge of the bed.
“She wanted you to know something.”
“What?”
“She did not place you for adoption because she didn’t want you.”
Noah stared at his blanket.
“She loved you.”
“How do you know?”
“She told me.”
“People lie.”
Emma felt a sad pride she did not entirely want.
“Yes.”
“Do you believe her?”
Emma thought of Rebecca’s face.
The bowl of oranges.
The way she refused to rewrite the adoption as kidnapping or generosity.
“Yes.”
Noah nodded.
“Okay.”
After a minute he asked, “Can I talk to her?”
“Eventually.”
“When?”
“We’re going to do it with Marisol.”
“Who?”
“The therapist I told you about.”
“Oh.”
He frowned.
“Do I have to tell her feelings?”
“Only if you want to.”
“Good.”
Emma stood.
Noah grabbed her hand.
“Mom?”
“Yes?”
“If Rebecca is my mom too, does that make you less my mom?”
Emma sat back down.
“No.”
“How?”
There was no elegant answer.
She tried anyway.
“Because love isn’t a job opening.”
He looked confused.
“That was bad.”
“Yeah.”
Emma thought.
“You know how Grandpa is your grandpa and Dad’s dad is also your grandpa?”
“Grandpa Joe smells weird.”
“He uses too much aftershave.”
“A lot.”
“The point is, one relationship doesn’t erase another.”
“But moms are different.”
“Yes.”
“So?”
Emma smiled tiredly.
“So maybe we learn what it means instead of deciding tonight.”
Noah nodded.
“That one was better.”
“Thank you.”
Three days later, Daniel arrived at Robert and Helen’s house unannounced.
Emma saw his car through the front window.
Her body reacted before her mind did.
Tight shoulders.
Cold hands.
A quick scan for Noah.
He was upstairs with Chloe playing a video game.
Lauren was in the kitchen with Helen.
Robert was at the hardware store.
Emma stepped outside and shut the door behind her.
Daniel stood beside the driveway.
He looked thinner.
He had shaved.
For years, Emma had been able to estimate how long he had been sober by his face. The first week made him puffy and irritable. The second sharpened him. By a month, he looked like the man she remembered marrying.
She hated that she still noticed.
“You can’t come here without messaging first.”
“I did message.”
“Twenty minutes ago.”
“You didn’t answer.”
“That does not turn silence into permission.”
Daniel looked toward the house.
“Is he here?”
“Yes.”
“I want to see him.”
“No.”
His jaw tightened.
“I’m his father.”
“Then use the parenting app and follow the temporary schedule.”
“The schedule you keep changing.”
“It was changed once because you missed the alcohol test.”
“I had work.”
“You knew the appointment.”
He rubbed his face.
“I’m not doing this on the driveway.”
“Then go.”
“Emma.”
She waited.
He looked toward the house again.
“I heard what happened at the party.”
“From Lauren?”
“Yes.”
“And?”
“I’m sorry.”
“For which part?”
“All of it.”
Emma almost laughed.
“That’s ambitious.”
Daniel shoved his hands into his pockets.
“Did you contact Rebecca?”
“Yes.”
His face changed.
“You shouldn’t have done that without talking to me.”
Emma stared at him.
He realized it as soon as the sentence left his mouth.
“Okay,” he said. “That sounded bad.”
“It sounded accurate.”
“I meant because she can be unpredictable.”
“You hid her from me for eighteen months.”
“I know.”
“Then you told Lauren enough to make her suspicious.”
“I didn’t tell Lauren anything.”
“You used Rebecca’s name.”
“I was angry.”
“Everyone’s angry lately. It’s becoming a boring excuse.”
Daniel looked exhausted.
May you like
“I messed up.”
“Yes.”
