32. Lydia
Lydia
I would tell you all about how great graduation was…
but it could easily be summed up into one word—anticlimactic.
So we can skip the recapping of this boring morning.
It was nothing like the one I experienced last week for Simone.
There was no flair, no exciting build-up, no getting all dressed up, no big walking across the stage moment.
Nope. Just me standing in one of the administrative offices of my high school, being handed a piece of paper, the only accomplishment I’ll probably ever have to my name.
At least I felt like Camilla was trying to tell me she was proud, though.
When I walked out of the school doors, I got a whiff of the exact perfume she used to wear.
It hit me out of nowhere, and when I looked around, there wasn’t a single person nearby.
It felt so warm and familiar that I almost believed for a second she was actually there with me.
It felt like it was nothing and everything all at the same time.
It was exactly what I needed in that moment. The only comfort I held onto.
I drove back home, alone, with the windows cracked and the music low. The sky was that perfect, stupid shade of blue that made you believe in fresh starts. Like, because of how endless it is, it could take you anywhere…it could take you exactly where you’re supposed to go.
Walking back into the house, I’m still lost in the cycle of thoughts that are always running wild in my mind—how I’ve been feeling, wondering if things will get easier soon, if stepping away from this place will allow my brain to box away all the memories and pain for a while, let me finally breathe, finally live, finally be happy. Maybe—
“SURPRISE!”
I catch myself on the wall in the hallway, throwing my hand over my chest.
I hear Simone and Huxley laughing, and when I look up—trying to compose myself from the jump scare—I see everyone standing in the kitchen.
I see Mark holding onto Sarah, Simone picking up Huxley so he can see over everyone, and Simone’s parents next to them.
There’s a ‘Happy Graduation’ banner behind them, balloons everywhere on the ground, and a cake on the kitchen island with both mine and Simone’s names on it.
“Happy graduation, girls,” Sarah says, walking over to me and wrapping me in a hug.
I freeze up a little at the contact until I look over her shoulder at Simone, who is giving me a look like ‘hug her back’. I try to put my arms around her, make it feel genuine, like I’m not so awkward, like I know how to receive love—spoiler, I don’t.
I’m still getting used to their affection.
I’ve lived with them for three years now, and I’m still warming up to the idea of them being a real family for me.
I mean, we haven’t always had the best chances to bond since I’ve been here, if I’m honest, mostly due to me, and not their lack of trying.
I wish we were closer. They’re a nice family, and no matter how much I’ve pushed them away, they still keep showing up for me.
Mark places a hand on my shoulder, telling me congratulations and that he’s proud of me, before both Simone and her parents all come over and wrap me in a group hug.
“My girls are all grown up,” Simone’s mom says through choked-back tears.
Once Huxley gives me a hug too and begs for a slice of cake for the tenth time, we all head into the living room.
“Thank you,” I say genuinely to Sarah and Mark. “You didn’t have to do this.”
“You girls graduated high school,” Mark starts. “You should be proud. I know it hasn’t been an easy experience, especially for you, Lydia…” We all just let that hang in the air for a moment before he continues. “You deserve to celebrate more than anyone else.”
Sarah places a hand on Mark’s back as they sit on the couch across from us.
“We know you don’t like it when we do too much or when you have a lot of attention on yourself, so we just went with something simple to try and still celebrate you, girls.
We’re also taking everyone out to lunch.
So go get dressed once you finish that cake, and we’ll leave whenever you’re ready. ”
This all feels…nice? Nice to have people going out of their way for me; it’s strange.
I feel like I’ve pushed Sarah and Mark away so much as my own self-protecting mechanism that I’ve probably blocked a lot of moments like this in the past with them.
Now we’re about to leave for college, and I wonder if I’ll still get the chance to fully connect with them now that nothing and no one is standing in the way of the relationship I could have with them.
A small part of me still doesn’t want to feel like I’m replacing what Camilla was to me—the mother figure she became—while another part of me desperately wishes I could experience what a normal family would feel like, no barriers, no pushing, no fights, and no trauma standing in the way.
“Come on! We’re dolling you up to go out!” Simone shouts while taking my hand and lifting me from the couch.
* * *
Everyone is having a good time at the restaurant, while I’m stuck in my head like always.
They’re all so happy and carefree. It makes me a little jealous.
Simone and her parents have always had this pure and sweet relationship.
It’s always easy for them to be together.
And Sarah, Mark, and Huxley look like they’re enjoying themselves.
Sarah and Mark are deep in conversation with Simone’s parents, and Huxley is drawing superheroes on the paper menu they gave him.
I want this life, the feeling that comes with this kind of life…but why do I never feel like I deserve it, or like it will last? Nothing good has ever lasted.
Simone nudges me from the seat beside me. “You good?”
I look over at her and nod. “Yeah. I…think so.”
She gives me that look like she knows there’s more happening in my head, but she’s not gonna push it right now.
“Enjoy it,” she whispers with a smile.
“I’m trying,” I whisper back, laughing.
Sarah clears her throat, getting everyone’s attention. “Before our food comes,” she says, smiling. “We wanted to give you something, Lydia.”
My heart does a weird flip, and I brace for them to give me some gift I’ll like but also feel like I don’t deserve.
Mark slides an envelope across the table. “Open it,” he says.
I slide a finger under the flap, trying to be careful. I take it out and scan it. I know what it is before I finish the first line.
Final Decree of Adoption.
It takes me a second to understand that the letters aren’t moving. It’s me. I’m shaking.
“We got the finalized documents yesterday,” Sarah says proudly. “It’s done.”
“It’s…done?” My voice catches. “Like…really done?”
“Really done,” Mark says. He’s already out of his chair, already reaching for me, and Sarah follows.
I’m standing before I even realize it. My chair scrapes.
The people in the next booth look over and then look away, the way strangers do when they accidentally catch a special moment for somebody else near them.
Sarah is crying before she even reaches me, and then Mark’s arms fold around both of us.
I don’t know how long we stand like that in the aisle, long enough for the waiter to step around us with a smile and check on the table beside us, silently being able to feel whatever happiness is radiating from us all.
I can see Simone and her mom both tearing up behind them, and her dad giving me a small nod, smiling like he’s proud, like he knows this is something I deserve.
The adoption process has been long for them, and I’ve been along for most of the steps, signing consents and paperwork, all things that just seemed far-fetched to actually lead to anything.
In the back of my head the whole time. I don’t know, I just figured something would stop it.
Something would prevent it from happening.
That they would change their minds. I just thought…
there was never a real possibility of getting a permanent family.
Who would really want a teenager anyway?
In my mind, people adopt kids and babies…
not grown teenagers like me…definitely not ones with this much damage.
I suddenly can’t stop the tears, and Mark hands me a napkin, still keeping us wrapped up in his arms.
When we sit again, the napkin is damp in my hand. Simone slides it out and replaces it with a fresh one, like a little magician—like a sister. “You okay?” she whispers.
I nod. Then I shake my head. Then I laugh, and it sounds a little off. “I don’t know.”
Sarah reaches across the table, palm up.
I put my hand in it because that’s what you do when someone offers you genuine love.
You don’t turn down something precious like that when you know how fast you can lose it.
“Thank you,” I say, and the words barely come out.
“I—thank you for…everything. And…I’m sorry. ”
Mark’s brow creases. “For what, kiddo?”
“For not…being easy.” The shame gets a little louder, but I have to get it out.
I didn’t plan to say this here. I didn’t plan to say it at all.
“I know I haven’t been—” I search for the least pathetic words and fail, “—the best. I’ve never felt like I fit here.
In this town. In school. Anywhere, really.
And I know I’ve been…a lot to handle. I’ve had a lot of baggage.
I know I probably made stuff…hard. I know I’m probably not the picture you had in your head when you signed up for a daughter. ”
Sarah’s face breaks, and she squeezes my fingers. “Lydia,” it comes out so softly. “You are exactly who you’re supposed to be.”
“What you’ve been through,” Mark adds. “None of that is your fault. Not one ounce of it. And nothing—nothing—will ever be held against you in this family. Not by us.”
I just nod, trying to swallow the lump in my throat so I can respond. “Thank you. I…I don’t know. I never thought I’d ever have a real family. I thought…maybe when I turned eighteen and left for college…that would be it. You wouldn’t have to deal with me anymore—”
“Your age means nothing,” Sarah cuts back in.
“I have felt like you were my daughter since the first time I met you. Since that social worker called me, telling us that they had a fifteen-year-old girl who needed somewhere to stay. As soon as they told me everything you had been through… as soon as they told me how many homes you had been in…as soon as they told me your name…I knew. We have fostered many kids before you and Huxley, and I had love for each and every child that came into our home, but with you…and with Huxley…I just knew. It was different. So no amount of hard times could change that.”
I thought this wouldn’t affect me. I thought I wouldn’t care. I thought I wasn’t attached to them, that I would be okay if they didn’t want me, if I ended up somewhere else after a while…but I can’t stop the emotions rolling through me now.
Simone’s mom wipes under her eyes. “You’ve always been like a second daughter to me, Lydia,” she says. “You were the sister I couldn’t give Simone. Don’t you dare think there aren’t people here who love you, who show up for you. None of us are ever going anywhere.”
It’s all a little overwhelming, honestly, as I look at all of them.
At my family. I think about twelve-year-old me and what she would do if she walked into this restaurant right now and saw this girl sitting here with a stamped piece of paper and a family saying words like forever out loud and meaning them.
I think she’d sit down beside me. I think she’d be shocked.
I think she’d hug me and cry into my shirt and ask if it was all real, and I would tell her yes, it is, it really is.
She’d probably be scared, but that’s okay.
I’d tell her I am too, that I don’t normally trust good things in my life.
I never have. But maybe this is different.
The waiter sets our plates down, and the moment reshapes itself around steak, grilled chicken, and pasta with too much cheese.
We eat like normal people, and being normal for an hour is a luxury in itself for me.
I don’t want to think about the fears that are loud in my head, the trauma that fights to tell me this isn’t real. I just want to enjoy…this.