And Then I Found You (10 page)

Words made her crazy really—the way the letters moved around and changed their sounds
just by being next to each other. The teachers and testers called the moving letters
“dyslexia” but Emily called it obnoxious. Now she needed to have one more tutor and
one more hour of school and one more sheet of homework.

Emily raised her hand.

“Yes?” Mrs. Graceland, the teacher, asked.

“Is dyslexia on DNA?” Emily held up the plastic molecule.

“Wow. That is a great question, Emily. But sadly, I don’t know. I will look that up
and tell you as soon as I find out. But usually attributes like that are on DNA; they
don’t know where yet.” She touched the helix as if trying to find the exact spot where
dyslexia would dwell.

Mrs. Graceland turned back to the board, holding chalk like a cigarette above her
head before drawing a chart that would explain how DNA bestowed someone eye color
or hair color or height. “Every attribute in or on your body is coded into this strand.”

Two seats over from Emily, Chaz Ross laughed in that confident way that only athletic,
good-looking boys could laugh, the way that meant they didn’t care what anyone thought
because only what they thought mattered. Emily looked at him and he smiled at her.
“Guess that means that nice butt was coded before I was born.”

“Gross,” Emily said. “You’re disgusting.” But of course that was the last thing she
thought he was. She turned back to her DNA strand and ran her finger across the plastic
and then down to the base.

Sailor Kessler, Emily’s best friend, whispered. “I got my dad’s brown eyes and Mother’s
curly hair. What parts did you get?”

Emily stared at Sailor, who was so confident where every part of her had come from
and why. “I don’t know,” Emily said, lowering her eyes to the desk.

“Don’t know? I mean, are your pretty green eyes from your Mom or dad?”

“I don’t know because I don’t know.” Emily looked up at her friend. “I’m adopted.”

“Really?” Sailor paused as if swallowing a long sip of lemonade and waiting to decide
how it tasted. Then she smiled. “Wow. How cool. How come you never told me?”

“I don’t think about it much,” Emily lied.

Sailor, whose parents not only gave her good looks, but all the money a thirteen-year-old
girl could possibly need, hugged Emily with one arm, almost tipping over their metal
chairs. “Just think,
you
have four parents. I mean that’s something I can’t have, right?”

“But not really. The other two—well one really—gave birth. Birth parents are what
they are. So whatever.”

“Not whatever. It’s like a mystery. Like that book we loved when we were little.”

“Harriet the Spy?”

“Yeah, like that. We could go try and find them. We’d be good at that.”

“I don’t want to find them.” A half truth, which Emily continually convinced herself
was a full truth.

Sailor looked up to the ceiling and sighed. “Oh, you are so lucky. I have my two boring
parents and you have
mystery
parents.”

Mrs. Graceland stopped her lecture on the X and Y chromosomes with her funny chart.
“Sailor, please stop moving your lips and making noise come out.”

The class laughed and Sailor apologized with her batting eyelashes. Class resumed,
but Emily’s thoughts were in the land they often were: Far-Away-Emily-World, her parents
called it.

Mystery Parents. Emily had never thought of it that way—she’d only believed someone
“gave her away.” Now her adoption took on a mystique it hadn’t before.

After school, Sailor and Emily sat on the back steps of the junior high.

Sailor pulled out a pad of paper. “Here, we are going to make a list. I mean, we have
to find out, Emily. What if you finally kiss Chaz and then find out he’s your brother
or something gross like that? Maybe you were saved from a horrible situation or war,
like all those kids Angelina Jolie adopted.”

“You’re wack-a-doodle,” Emily said, smiling through her favorite word.

“Yes, I am, and that’s why you’re my best friend.”

The two girls put their heads together and made a list of all the mysterious reasons
her birth parents couldn’t keep her.

• They were spies on the lam.

• The dad was the President of the United States and needed to hide her.

• The mother was a famous actress and she didn’t want people to know.

• Both parents had to leave the country because they robbed the biggest bank in New
York.

There they sat, Sailor and Emily, designing parents out of nothing, out of imagination
and dust.

Finally Emily folded the paper with the mystery parent list, and tucked it into the
side pocket of her backpack. Together they walked into the village, stopping for a
shaved ice from Brinson’s Pharmacy. When they reached Emily’s home, Sailor looked
up at the brick house. “You are so lucky.”

“Yes, I am.” Emily waved good-bye and walked into the front door, inhaling the smell
of her mother’s cooking in the back of the house. It smelled like pot roast—her least
favorite, but her dad’s very favorite.

Home.

Emiy walked down the back hall, dropping her backpack onto the hardwood floor by the
basement door. “Mom?” she called out, tasting the word as if it were new and fresh,
something she’d never thought about before although she was told it was the first
word she ever said.

“Back here,” her Mom’s voice called from the laundry room.

A bowl of grapes sat on the counter and Emily grabbed a handful before walking to
the laundry room and hugging her mother. “I love you.”

“Well, that’s good,” Elena said, throwing clothes into the dryer. “Because I love
you too.”

*   *   *

Emily’s homework that night was to write a paragraph about the favorite parts of her
DNA and add a pedigree chart showing where those attributes came from: X for mother.
Y for father. The blank sheet stared at Emily until she began to wrap the words around
what she wanted to say.

My DNA gave me green eyes with a few brown freckles inside. My DNA gave me wavy coppery
hair that isn’t really red or brown, but a little of both. My DNA made me short and
strong. My DNA gave me ugly nail beds that go all flat on the sides. My DNA lets me
roll my tongue upside down. There are lots of things my DNA gave me, but my parents
gave me love. I can’t make a chart out of love because there is no such thing. My
parents made me out of love and not a molecule.

Emily 13 years old

Born on March 20, 1997

nine

BIRMINGHAM, AL

2010

Walking into the pizza parlor with Jack and Caleb, Kate felt as if only days had passed,
not years. The restaurant was dim and loud—the perfect combination for boys. Baseball
players tumbled into the restaurant one after the other, taking over the middle section.
Parents clustered around satellite tables.

“Jack,” a man called from across the room. “We’re over here.”

Jack made a motion to indicate he would stay at the corner table where he sat with
Kate. He looked to her. “Unless of course you want to eat with the team parents and
talk about game strategy and batting order.”

“No, really,” she said. “I’m good here with you.”

They ordered a pizza and salad to share. Caleb sat with his teammates, leaving Jack
and Kate to face one another across a cracked linoleum table. “So,” Jack said. “What
brings you to Birmingham after all these years?”

“Well, you know I own that clothing store in Bluffton? My favorite client wanted me
to check out this boutique in Birmingham that won some design award. So, here I am.”

“Really?”

“Yes, really.”

“So that’s why you’re here.”

“No, that’s my excuse for being here.”

He smiled. “Good then.”

The pizza and salads arrived, and the combined noise of boys’ voices and rock music
over the speakers filled the silence until Jack finally leaned forward. “Okay, I’m
really glad to see you and I can’t wait to catch up, but is there something … specific?”

“Yes.” She nodded at him and wiped the pizza grease from the corner of her mouth.
“I want to talk about some … old stuff.”

“Caleb is going to his grandparents’ farm for the rest of the weekend, so we can talk
later, okay?”

“When did your parents get a farm?”

“No, Maggie’s parents.”

“Maggie,” Kate said quietly.

Jack nodded, but changed the subject. “So, tell me, how are things in Bluffton? How’s
the family?”

“All is well in South Carolina. I ran into Hayes at a party the other night. He asked
about you.”

“Wow. I’m surprised anyone even remembers me. It’s been a long time.”

“You’re memorable,” Kate said, smiling.

“I’m not sure for all the right reasons.”

“Well, Larson asks about you. And Norah says hello.”

Jack shook his head. “Sometimes I forget about South Carolina, like I never lived
there. But then, if I close my eyes, I can see the river.…”

“Yes, the river.”

The years melted away and for a breath in and out, they weren’t Jack and Kate in a
pizza parlor, but Jack and Katie on the edge of a river on the first day of spring,
making promises. Then the moment was gone, a passing cloud or whisper.

“So,” Jack said. “Tell me about your clothing store.”

Yes, they would do their very best to avoid the past, the river, and the vows. Kate
dove into his question with relief. “My store.” She smiled. “I’ve written to you about
it. It’s called Mimsy. I named it after a little girl I took care of for a few years.”

He shrugged. “I pictured you doing a lot of things, but owning a boutique wasn’t on
the list.”

“You pictured me?” She teased, smiling across the table.

He laughed loudly enough for the next table to smile at them. “Yes, I picture you
sometimes. Now go … tell me about it.”

“Well, while I was being a nanny during the summer for this family, the mom, Susan
Neal, noticed my eye for detail. She started asking me to shop for her, pick things
out. Next thing I knew I was flying to New York with her, talking about opening a
boutique, and obsessing about new styles and designers. I fell into it like I fall
into most things—accidentally.”

She heard the word slip from her mouth at the same time that she wanted to stop it—
accident.
It wasn’t what she meant to say and its meaning nudged too close to something else,
to all they needed to avoid.

“So this Susan woman started the store with you?” Jack asked.

Kate exhaled. She was being way too sensitive, weighing every word like that. “Yes,”
she said. “Yes. She put up the seed money and is majority owner. I run it and do all
the buying. But you’re right; I never saw myself doing this either. But now that I’m
doing it, I can’t imagine another way. I love it. I really do.”

“You run it alone?” he asked.

“No. Norah works with me part time and a girl named Lida, also.”

“Lida,” Jack said, leaning back in his chair. “How do I know that name?”

Kate looked up to the ceiling. Damn. Minefields existed in every word she spoke. “Lida,”
she said. “Is the girl who was in the wilderness with me right before I left. The
one I stayed for…”

Jack held up his hand. “Yep, I remember.” His eyes closed and for the first time since
he’d seen her on the baseball field, his smile dissipated. Then he opened his eyes.
“So, tell me about your sisters. How are they?”

For the remainder of the meal, they talked about families and siblings, about jobs
and cities, until Grandma came to pick up Caleb. Kate stayed at the table as Jack
walked his son outside.

Alone at the table, Kate realized she’d never told Jack about Lida coming to South
Carolina. How the girl she’d stayed with in the wilderness for all those years ago
was still with her now.

Mimsy Clothing had been open for three years when Lida had shown up at the front door
with a duffel bag. Considering that Kate had thought about Lida almost every day since
leaving her in the wilderness with the new field guide, it took Kate longer to recognize
Lida than it should have. She blamed the complete surprise, like seeing a desert cactus
in Key West.

“Hi, Katie,” Lida said and dropped her filthy bag onto the white slipcovered chair.

In an instinctual movement, Kate picked up the bag and placed it on the floor. “May
I help you?”

“I think you already have,” Lida said, and then laughed that deep, raspy sound that
came from smoking since she was eleven years old.

The remembering came in a sudden wave, and Kate embraced the young girl, hugging her
hard and holding tight. “Oh! I’ve thought about you every day.” She stepped back and
took the girl’s face in her hands. “I tried to find you. I called Winsome, but they
weren’t allowed to give me your information. I’ve wondered…”

“Well, no more wondering.” Lida shrugged her shoulders. “Here I am.”

“How are you? Where have you been? What are you doing here?”