Holding On (Hooking Up) (2 page)

“Do you honestly think she would have contacted you if she didn’t want to see you? She wrote to you, remember?”

“After Isamu found her. I have no idea how he even did that.”

“But she didn’t have to write. You had no idea who she was. I’m positive Isamu wouldn’t have said anything against her wishes. She wants to meet you.”

“Yeah, I suppose you’re right,” I allowed. And he was. I hadn’t really stopped to consider all this stuff before, being too wrapped up in my own thoughts and misgivings to realize she would probably be thinking the same things and worrying about blowing it with me.

“You always make me feel better,” I told him, walking over to him and wrapping my arms around his waist. I buried my face in his neck and inhaled deeply, cataloguing the smell of him, all musk and male and delectable cologne, for a later date. He smelled good enough to eat.

“That’s my job, Mrs. Ashford. Certified Mood Elevator.” He kissed me deeply and backed us up against the counter. He leaned against it and pulled me with him, tipping me forward until I was reclining against the warm length of him. Being this way, all close and comfortable, was a balm to my ragged nerves.

“Ew! That’s gross, you guys,” a little voice piped up from behind me. Ryan released me reluctantly and I turned to face my stepson.

“Hey, Benjie, my man. How did you sleep?” I asked, ruffling his sandy curls and smiling down into his precious little face.

“Ok. Like a dog.”

I grinned. He was so funny sometimes. “Do you mean like a log?”

“Yeah, a log. What’s for breakfast?”

“You men,” I teased. “All you think about is food. How ‘bout some cereal?”

“Ok. Sugar Rings?”

I smiled. It was always Sugar Rings. “Coming right up.” I poured him a bowl and watched as he practically inhaled his food. I had no idea where the kid put it, but he finished the serving in record time and angelically asked for seconds. After he hoovered another bowl, he sprang from the table and galloped to the living room to watch Saturday morning cartoons.

This was another part of marriage I absolutely adored. Benjie was a great kid, and it surprised me how easy it was to love him. He wasn’t mine and we both knew that, but I loved him like he was. I often thought about his mother, the frigid bitch Nancy, who chose marriage to a snazzy stockbroker over her only child, and pitied her. It was her loss. But she chose her path, and Ryan and I couldn’t be happier that we had the exuberant little boy with us full-time. However, loving Benjie as I did made me feel even more confused about my birth mother. I couldn’t imagine throwing away a child, something small and sweet and totally dependent upon me. But she did, and although she ensured there was someone who took over for her, it still bothered me.

The phone rang and I jumped and glanced at the clock. Nine-twenty. Who could be calling? Was it Maria, calling early?

“Hello?” I yelped into the phone, nerves getting the best of me.

“Daughter, you sound as though you have goldfish swimming in your stomach,” Isamu informed me with a smile in his voice.

“Sorry, Sensei. I can’t settle. I’m wound up. This is it— the big day.”

“Daughter, do you remember how you used to feel at karate tournaments?”

“Yeah, like there were goldfish swimming in my stomach,” I said wryly.

“Do what I taught you to do when you were young. Meditate. Think positive thoughts. Visualize what your heart desires and make it happen.”

I agreed and hung up the phone. Meditating was a great idea.

I went to the living room and sat down on the floor on the plush rug in front of the sofa. I closed my eyes and pictured the way I wanted things to go. It was a little hard to concentrate with the television blaring and some creepy cartoon character giggling madly and shouting every six seconds or so, but I managed. Ryan came up behind me and massaged my shoulders, which served to further relax me. It would be fine, I just knew it.
I hoped.

I finished meditating and, refreshed, decided to do some housework. I whirled around like a madwoman with my dust rag and vacuum, using the physical activity to burn off some of the nervous energy still flowing through me even after an hour of meditation. By eleven forty-five, the house had never looked or smelled cleaner. I had to laugh at myself, cleaning house for telephone company, but it just felt like the right thing to do.

At noon, the phone rang promptly but my hand froze as I reached for it. My heart stopped. This was it! It was really happening. My birth mother was on the other end of the phone and at long last I’d get to hear her voice. It was too much to take in and my hand shook as it hovered over the phone. Nerves got the best of me and I just couldn’t force myself to take the last step and pick up the phone. Ryan, sensing my inner struggle, grabbed the handset neatly off the receiver and answered it.

“Hello? Yes, she’s right here, and a bit nervous, I think.” He paused, listened and chuckled.

“Yes, she has been, too. Here she is.”

I shook my head wildly. I wasn’t ready. What if I sounded like an idiot? What if she hated me? Oh God, what if I started speaking in tongues or gibberish or—

And then the phone was in my hand, and the voice on the other end was one so intrinsically familiar, it felt like I’d heard it a thousand times.

“Caitlin, this is Maria. How are you, my dear?”

I collapsed into happy tears and soaked in the voice of Maria across the phone lines. All tension, all trepidation melted away, and I said something I’d dreamed about since finding out about her.

“Hi, Mom. Where’ve you been?”

Chapter 2

The chuckle on the other end of the phone line was filled with wonder and merriment. “Oh, sweetie, I’ve always been here. It’s so good to hear your voice. It sounds like mine.”

“Yeah, but you have an accent.” I teased. She was Southern?

“That’s funny—I thought you had the accent. Anyway, I’ve been in Florida. I grew up here, and you were born here, in Kissimmee.”

“Wow, so I’m Southern, too?” Cool. Maybe that explained my love of heat, the hot, sticky, humid variety that wilted almost everyone else.

“Sure are. It’s so wonderful to hear your voice. It sounds like mine. I often wondered.”

“I have, too.”

Our conversation stalled quickly. Exchanging emails was one thing, rather impersonal and noncommittal, but having a telephone conversation with someone was a big step.

“Well, since we’re here,” she said quietly, “is there anything you’d like to ask me? I know you’ve been holding back in your emails.”

“How could you tell?”

“Because I was too,” she said.

“Wow. OK. Yes, I was. I guess I’m just confused, you know? Why are you so happy to hear from me now? I mean, you got rid of me.”

“Oh, Caitlin, I hate using that phrase. I know how you must feel, but it wasn’t how you thought it was.”

“No, you really don’t know how I feel, and if it’s not what I thought it was, then what was it?” I said quickly, the anger in me flashing hot and sudden like lightning. Ryan’s hand on my shoulder served to calm me temporarily, but the flood of temper I felt was too strong to bury for long. It appeared the inner crazy was on its way out. Try as I might to rein it in, it seemed to have a mind of its own.

“You’re right. I don’t. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. This isn’t going the way I thought it would.” She sighed heavily.

“How did you expect it to go? Hi, Catie. It’s me — Mom. Sorry I haven’t been around for the past twenty-nine years. How did those alternate parents work out for you?”

She dissolved into sobs on the other end of the phone line and I felt terrible for baiting her. After my initial outburst, the anger sizzled away. It didn’t do either of us any good to carry around that kind of poison, that anger and guilt. I’d been victim of it before, and I knew just how painful it could be. I couldn’t bear it if she hung up, and I knew I’d regret it forever if she never talked to me again.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that, either. In case you haven’t noticed, I’m kind of a bitch sometimes, and maybe just the slightest bit erratic.”

I glanced at Ryan in time to see him smile at my admission and I punched him playfully on the arm. I held my breath, hoping she’d hear the genuine regret in my voice.

I was relieved when she laughed and said, “Me, too. And it’s alright. I deserved it all, and truthfully, I admire your temper and your guts. I think you get that from me.”

“Yeah? What else did I get from you, besides the obvious?” I had sent her a picture of me via email, and it was clear we looked a lot alike.

“Well, you’re athletic and so am I. Not in karate like you, but I was a ballet dancer when I was growing up. I love to read, and I love to be outdoors.” I had told her those things about myself during our email conversations.

“Weird.” And it was, at least to me. Obviously, I had half her DNA, so we’d be similar in a lot of ways, but it was still strange to know there was someone out there I resembled, both physically and emotionally. It brought up some very good questions about what pieces of our personalities are made, and which are inherited. I was excited to learn more about my birth mother, realizing it was something that might teach me more about myself.

“Mom, can I ask you a question?”

“Sure, Caitlin. Anything.”

“Who’s my father?”

“I don’t know.”

“Excuse me?” I shrieked, incredulity dueling with frustration and raising my voice nearly an octave. I could practically hear her wince through the phone at my outburst.

“He was a one-night stand.”

“Well, holy shit.” Had an earthquake opened up a crack in the middle of the living room and swallowed me whole, I wouldn’t have been more surprised, and a nervous giggle burst from my lips.

She forged on, apology and regret ripe in her voice. “Caitlin, understand, please. I was in college, and my parents were very strict. The boy was a fraternity brother in one of the houses I partied at with my sorority. We met, sparks flew, and next thing you know, we were up in someone’s bedroom. I was drunk, he was drunk, and neither of us thought to look for a condom.” Her voice was mildly defensive.

“Wow. OK. Wow.” What do you say to that? I wondered. “Wow. Uh … I … Wow.” Yeah, that was all I had. My mother just told me I was an alcohol-induced, frat party mistake. ‘Wow’ seemed to about cover it.

“Catie, can you say something other than ‘Wow’?”

“Not right now,” I answered, almost dizzy. I sank into a nearby leather chair and doubled over, my head between my knees. I took a deep breath to try to steady myself. I raised my head and Ryan looked at me quizzically, but I shook my head. I’d tell him later. For now, I had to let this sink in. “Well, I wanted to know, didn’t I? I asked for it, so tell me, then what happened?”

“My parents found out I was pregnant, and demanded I either abort you or give you up for adoption. I couldn’t stand the thought of killing you. I wanted you, you see, but they wouldn’t let me keep you. I had no choice if I wanted you to live. So I gave you away.”

I felt a little better after her admission. She had wanted me, regardless of the fact I was a mistake. Instead of obliterating me, she chose to let me go so I could live my life. It didn’t feel clichéd to me, or like a cop-out. It was the truth, and I was grateful. There was only one thing that seemed right to say.

“Thanks.”

I meant it, and suddenly, the adoption seemed so much less of a big deal than it did before, after I realized she chose the lesser of what she considered two evils. She wanted me to live, so she ensured I could.

“I chose your parents myself. Shelly and Keith were so sweet. They cried when they told me how much having a child meant to them. They felt so slighted that they couldn’t conceive children, and so hopeful and grateful someone would give them a chance to be parents. I had to let you go, and I chose them because I knew they’d love you enough for me, too.”

“They were great. I miss them every day,” I told her. Blood or not, they were my parents, and their untimely death had crushed me. It had crushed my Gran, too, and she and I were still at odds because of it.

“You never told my real father about me?” I wondered aloud.

“I never saw him again. After I found out about you, I went back to the frat house, but he wasn’t there. Apparently, there had been a group of guys from other chapters who were visiting from out of town. There were about twenty of them, all from different states and colleges. It was a national fraternity with hundreds of chapters. No one knew names or even what towns they’d come from. I had no idea where to even begin.”

“Oh.”

“I’m sorry. I realize it’s tough to take in, and I’ll understand if you want some time before you speak to me again, if you even do.”

“Why did you contact me now?” I was curious about it.

There was silence for a minute. Then she spoke, sweetly and slowly. “It was time. Isamu told me what a wonderful woman you’d become, and how you never knew about me. He told me your parents were gone, and I wanted to set the record straight. Caitlin, you’re the only family I have left. My parents are both gone now, and I was an only child. Family is something people should never take for granted. Family is a gift. I wanted to reclaim you, to let you know more about your past, and to make plans for the future, if that’s alright with you.”

“Yeah,” I said slowly. “I think it is. I’m glad I got to finally talk to you.”

“Me, too. You have no idea how long I’ve dreamed about this day.”

“Can we meet in person?”

“Absolutely. And I want you to know, I’ll be moving to Pennsylvania next month. Let’s plan something for then.”

“Wow, really? That’s great! Where in Pennsylvania?”

“Pittston. I wanted to be close to you.”

Tears flooded my eyes again, and I felt my heart beat double-time. I’d get to meet Maria. And soon. She wanted to be near me. She
wanted
me. It was so hard to describe the feelings that gave me. It was like winning the lottery and realizing every dream you ever had was coming true. It was the biggest feeling I think I’ve ever had, and it welled up inside me like a geyser racing toward the sky. It was incredible.