Dear Emily (Forever Family) (8 page)

“Yeah,” he answers. “It’s my band’s name. Epic Fail. But it means a bit more to me.” Now I’m intrigued, and I want to know more about him. Immediately.

Our waitress interrupts us by slamming our ice waters between us. He pulls his hands from mine and pushes back against the booth, away from me.

I quickly grab my water and begin drinking it.

He shifts his eyes around again, looking everywhere but at me.

What the hell?

I guess my advances weren’t appreciated. I shouldn’t have touched him, held his hand. Does he just want to be friends with me? That’s fine I guess. I read this whole thing wrong. Of course. Ugh. Besides, whom am I kidding? It’s only been a few
weeks
since I gave up Sara. Since I ran away from Tony. This can’t happen.

I take a deep breath and push back into the booth on my side. “Well, Alex, it’s late, and I had a rough day. I won’t keep you any longer. I’m sure you have to get ready for your next set or something.” I take another sip of water, almost choke on an ice cube, and start to get up from the booth.

He grabs my wrist and my defensive flinch is automatic. His touch burns me, and I feel it all over. I start to tremble and pull my hand quickly from his grasp. God! Why did he do that? I start to back out of his reach.

“I’m sorry,” he says. “I didn’t mean…”

I’m backing away now, and I can’t stop myself.

“No, I’m sorry,” I say as I start to turn. “Thanks for the water.”

I’m now running.

Out of the club.

Why did I freak out like that? What is wrong with me? He’s not Tony, and he wasn’t trying to hurt me. Right?

I sprint down the block toward the city bus that’s idling at the corner. I look behind me. No one.

Shit. Why would I expect he would chase after me? He doesn’t even know me.

I don’t even know me anymore.

I get onto the bus, swipe my card, and throw myself into the first seat. I involuntarily touch my scar, drop my head back against the seat, and close my eyes.

The bus pulls away, and I don’t look back again.

A total epic fail.

Pun intended.

Fuck.

Philadelphia, Pennsylvania

Present

Age 29

I arrive
at the restaurant where I’m meeting Tabitha and sit at a table with a lovely view of the city street. I’m early again, and I’ve already ordered my drink, unsweetened iced tea with a lemon twist. My favorite. It reminds me of my Aunt Frankie.

My Godmother, my angel.

This was her favorite drink, and she always had a pitcher brewing. I smile. God do I miss her. What would she think about everything that Kyle and I are going through? I remember the last conversation that I had with her.

I left work early one night and decide to stop in to see my Aunt Francis, ‘Frankie’. She had just made the most difficult decision that she could make. She is stopping chemotherapy. She has leukemia. It had been in remission, but it came back with a vengeance. She can’t take the medicine, doctors, and nausea any longer. She is now placing her fate in God’s hands.

I arrive at her house around four-thirty PM and find her in her favorite room, the sunroom. She is sitting on her comfy couch with a full glass of iced tea in front of her, untouched. I sit down next to her, and we quietly stare at the news on the television. We sit like this for a while, in comfortable silence.

After a while, she turns to me and whispers, “Carly, I’m afraid.” A single tear rolls down her cheek.

I look up at her and say, “Don’t be afraid Aunt Frankie. There is nothing to be afraid of. Your Dad will be waiting for you with open arms.” Really? I don’t believe a word that I’m saying. I’d be terrified if I were in her place.

I’m terrified of death. Finality. Nothingness.

Hell, I’m even afraid of being buried, closed in a casket. I know I’ll be dead and won’t know where I am, but the thought of being closed in and buried six feet down seriously disturbs me. I have no rational thoughts about death and only think of it in terms of something macabre.

I’m afraid of losing everything and everyone that matters to me. Holy shit, I’m afraid for her and for what she is going to miss out on. What she is going to lose. Her family. Her children. Her grandchildren. Her future. This isn’t fair. I take a deep breath as I try to conceal my own sadness and panic.

She asks how my last in-vitro fertilization treatment was. She already knows that it didn’t work because she speaks with my mother, her sister at least once a day.

“It didn’t work Aunt Frankie.” I frown as I briefly explain our latest trials and tribulations.

She smiles softly and says, “Car, you will have a family. I just know it. You and Kyle are meant to have loads of happy, bouncing babies.” She holds my hand. Her grip is loose, and her hand is so cold. She is a shell of herself and has given up on her own fight. But yet, she has such hope for me. I can’t begin to understand where her hope for me comes from and wish desperately that she would turn that hope into something positive for her own healing and recovery.

“The family you dream of is around the corner,” she says softly. “I just know it.”

I continue to hold her hand as we watch the latest news in silence. I spend about an hour with her, and I am reluctant to leave. Eventually, I get up and kiss her cold, sunken cheek. “I love you Aunt Frankie,” I whisper to her.

She died the next day.

My eyes are full of unshed tears as I think about Aunt Frankie and the fight that she lost. God I miss her. She believed in my ability to be a terrific mother. I smile as I think of all that she fought for, and I can only hope to make her proud as Kyle and I raise Emily.

I look around the restaurant and I see a family sitting at a table across the room. They all look so happy. Their little boy, who couldn’t be more than two, is sitting in a high chair, and he is thoroughly covered in marinara sauce. He’s got spaghetti wrapped around his little fingers, and he’s smiling ear to ear. His parents are softly talking to each other while their little boy is enjoying his meal. Perfect. Simple.

I didn’t notice Tabitha slip into the chair across from me. She is smiling tightly and quietly says, “Hi.”

“Oh, hey!” I say quickly.

She realizes that she interrupted me eavesdropping on the family across the restaurant. “I’m sorry,” she says.

I smile quickly and shake my head. “No worries. I was just watching that cute little boy over there. He’s a mess!” I giggle a little as I gesture toward the family.

She cranes her neck to see the family that I’m stalking. “Adorable,” she says.

We sit awkwardly and quietly for several minutes before she speaks up.

“Are you ready? I mean, ready for the baby?” she asks.

“Yes!” I exclaim. “We are so ready, Tabitha. Gosh, the room is ready and painted pink!” I take my phone out to show her the pictures I took of Emily’s room. She scrolls through the photos while turning my phone to get a better look at the room.

“Wow, it’s awesome!” she says. “I love her name painted in white on the pink walls. It’s such a nice contrast. Her crib is beautiful.” It’s an off-white crib with flowers carved into the woodwork. We’ve set up the bedding that is a gorgeous Wendy Bellissimo pattern with flowers and safari print. It’s a perfect combination of girly and modern. I fell in love with it as soon as I saw it and immediately ordered everything from the collection. I definitely tend to over-do it sometimes.

She hands me back my phone and turns to the waitress who just arrived at our table. We order our meals and sit quietly facing each other. GAH! What are we going to talk about? I’m feeling slightly awkward that I just showed her pictures of her daughter’s room. I hope I didn’t make her as uncomfortable as I feel.

“So, how are you feeling?” I ask. That is original, not making this any less awkward!

“I’m good. I’m getting more and more tired as the days go by. I’m huge! I wasn’t this big with my first pregnancy.”

What? First pregnancy?

“Oh,” I say. What else can I say? She just dropped a bombshell on me. Another pregnancy?

“I should explain.” She stops to gather her thoughts. “I had Sara, my other little girl, two years ago. I had to give her up.” Her eyes are darting all over the restaurant, and I realize that she didn’t mean to tell me this, and now she’s nervous. I’m so confused and disturbed by her revelation that I start to fidget in my seat and rub my hands on my jeans.

“I couldn’t keep her. I was in a really bad place. I don’t even know where she is, who her parents are. I didn’t get to choose them like I did you. I didn’t tell the agency about this because, well, it’s embarrassing. I mean who gives up
two
children?” She looks down at her napkin and she starts pulling it apart unconsciously. Tearing little bits of paper from the napkin and leaving them on the table. She chose us though, and that’s what matters.

“I’m sorry, Tabitha. I can’t imagine.” I speak the truth. I really can’t imagine giving up a child. Not to mention two!

“It’s OK, really.” She stops and looks at me. “I know that Sara is in a better place. Happy. Safe.” She pauses as she says, ‘safe’ as if she means to emphasize its significance. Her eyes are glistening, and I need to change the subject. I’m feeling selfish right now. What if remembering her first daughter makes her change her mind. Shit! I start to feel vulnerable.

“You did what you thought was best, I’m sure.” What else can I say?

We sit in silence for a few minutes as the waitress brings Tabitha her drink.

“So, what else do you have for Emily?” Tabitha asks quickly.

She changes the subject to indicate that our conversation about Sara is over. I stiffen a little as I answer.

“What
don’t
we have?” I chuckle. “I’m a bit compulsive when it comes to getting her room ready. Her room, as you saw, is completely furnished and decorated. We have tons of pink clothes, blankets, and stuffed animals. Kyle thinks I’m nuts to go so overboard, but I don’t know any other way.” I’m honest. I really don’t know any other way. If I could buy all of Babies-R-Us, I would. I want Emily to have everything. To give her all of the comforts she deserves. To give her all of me.

Tabitha smiles a big smile this time. She almost seems relieved. Good!

“That’s awesome, Carly. I’m sure that Emily will be so happy in her new room.”

Now I feel bad. I’m flaunting everything we are giving to Emily. Everything that she
can’t
.

Shit.

I change the subject.

“So, how did you and Seth meet?” I ask.

She takes a deep breath. “He kind-of saved me. I mean, not
literally
, but he was just always there for me.” She looks away and smiles softly. “I was in another relationship when I met Seth, and then I did something stupid to mess that up. Seth was my friend and then just became more.”

I nod and smile at her. “I’m glad Tabitha. We could all use someone to help us through the tough times.” I’m afraid to ask my next question, but I persist. “Is Seth the father? Don’t answer that if you don’t think you can.”

“I don’t know, Carly. He could be. The other relationship I was in… Well… the timing. I don’t know.” She’s struggling with her answer and I immediately feel terrible for prying too much. “The other potential father, Alex, and I met after I ran away from an impossible and dangerous situation in my life. I had just given up Sara and moved across the country, back to Philly. We had a very powerful connection, and we were together for over a year until I messed up.” Her voice trails off, and she looks away. “He could be Emily’s father. I just don’t know. I’ve said too much I think.”

Her tone makes me think that she does know. That she thinks Alex is Emily’s father. She speaks about Alex differently than she does Seth.

As she is sharing this story of sadness and regret, I’m starting to feel nervous that she could change her mind.

“I’m sorry.” Am I? I mean I am sorry for her situation, but I wonder selfishly would this child be ours if the situation were different. If this guy Alex were still in her life, would Emily be coming into ours? I shake my head. God, I shouldn’t be thinking these thoughts!

“I really am sorry, Tabitha. I don’t know what else to say.”

She’s quiet for a few moments. I can’t tell if she’s about to stand up and bolt out of the restaurant.

“I’ve had a very tough life, Carly. I didn’t share this with the adoption agency because I’m profoundly ashamed of my choices. I’ve been running my whole life, and I want to put the running behind me to make something of myself. This is my first step. I’m making this choice for me and for Emily. I need to make sure she has a good life and then I need to straighten myself out. Seth’s not ready to be a father, but he’s ready to help me. I need to let him.”

“Oh.” I say quietly. “I can’t imagine, Tabitha.” It’s the truth. I just can’t imagine.

The waitress returns and we order our lunch. I order a salad with grilled chicken. Tabitha orders grilled cheese and French fries.

We sit silently for a little while as we both watch the family across the restaurant pack up their belongings. The mother picks up the little boy who still has a red stain on his face from the marinara sauce. She is laughing as she holds him up and away from her as she surveys his messy state. He’s giggling and his father starts to tickle his chin. They are so happy, and I can’t wait to experience the same euphoria.

We watch them leave the restaurant.

I turn to Tabitha and say, “Emily will have that. Unconditional love, comfort, laughs. She will have all of that. Kyle and I will give that to her. We will give her everything.”

She laughs a little. “As long as you let her smear marinara sauce all over her face and let her get spaghetti in her hair.” She continues laughing, and for the first time I let out a breath of relief. She’s actually picturing Emily with Kyle and me, and I’m relieved!

“Oh Tabitha, she’ll have such messy spaghetti and sauce, I promise!” I’m picturing our little girl, and I start laughing.

Our lunch is delivered, and we eat in almost silence. But unlike at the beginning, we are comfortable in each other’s presence now. The painful silence that we once looked at each other with is no longer there, and I almost feel content.

As I’m finishing up my salad, I say, “I have pictures of our family if you’d like to see?”

“Yes! Wow! I’d love to see as many pictures as possible,” she answers.

I pull out a small album that I made of both my and Kyle’s families. I go page by page showing her pictures of my parents, brother and sisters, nieces and nephews. Kyle’s family is small with just one sister. Both of his parents are deceased. I tell her stories of birthday parties, anniversaries, and weddings. She is engrossed and hangs on my every word. She seems almost jealous, but I shake off that feeling.

She listens to me tell silly stories about our families for almost two hours! Wow! Time really is flying by. Thankfully, the awkwardness from earlier has eased a bit, allowing us to really connect.

As we end our conversation, she says, “Carly, you and Kyle are going to be perfect parents to Emily. Just perfect. I couldn’t be happier for her, you and Kyle.” She trails off.

I reach across the table and grab her hand. I squeeze. She squeezes back hard and just nods at me.

I pay the bill, and we quietly stand up and walk out of the restaurant. I hand her a card that I wrote for her. A thank you, pour out my guts, heart and soul kind-of card. I put two gift cards in there. One for Target and the other a Visa gift card. She needs to pay bills, pay rent, and buy clothes and food. I want to help her, and this is the way I can.

She doesn’t open the card. She tucks it into her bag.

Before she turns away, she throws herself into my arms and hugs me tight. I can feel her lightly sobbing against me.

“Thank you,” she says.

“No, Tabitha. Thank you. You are giving us this gift, and you are the one that deserves thanks, love and hugs. Everything.” I squeeze her back, and she pulls away.