Chapter 21
Weeks later, Mariah’s hands trembled and she squeezed them into fists, balling the soft silk of her dress in her palms, willing they would somehow stop shaking, but they didn’t. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She released the breath slowly through her lips when the voice of the taxi driver filled her ears.
“Are you getting out or not, lady?” her eyes flew open to meet the confused glare of a middle-aged man through the rearview mirror. He was dressed in a white dress shirt and his shoulder-length salt and pepper hair was glossy and held in a neat bun behind his head. Though his question sounded rude, Mariah saw he didn’t mean to sound so. He just wanted to know what was happening.
His eyes flicked to her trembling hands and on instinct, she let go of her dress and busied her hands with reaching for her bag and jacket, but it did nothing to stop the trembling.
Then he spoke again, “If you don’t want to be wherever you need to be,” she heard hesitation in his voice. “You can always not show up. You don’t have to—”
“But I do,” Mariah sighed, and looked out the window at the building they were parked in front of. “I have to show up, for my sanity,” When her godparents had called her to their house and told her about what they had found about her ancestry, she had burst into tears.
It had taken them over an hour to calm her down and get her calm enough to read the documents that they had obtained. They had also shown her pictures provided by her extended family members who had reached out to the agency that had worked on her case.
Mariah let out a soft chuckle. “I have to go see… she is my relative,” she smiled weakly and pushed the door open, welcoming the cool fall wind.
“Family, eh?” the driver chuckled. “I understand the hesitations. Relative or sibling?”
Mariah’s eyes met his through the rear view mirror. She had been surprised when she had found out that she was related to a family of red heads like her. Mr. Singer had said that the agency he had worked with were the best and that they had reached out to her relatives, The Abrahams in Florida.
In the photos, some of the Abraham sisters looked similar to her, pale, small boned and had a head full of red locs.
“Relative. One I think. Maybe there will be more. I’m not sure,” she said the word out loud for the first time since Veronica had fussed and prepped her earlier in the morning for her meeting with the Abraham sisters. Veronica had told her that one of the sisters wanted to meet her.
“You’ll be fine,” the driver chuckled breaking her out of her thoughts. “The worst that can happen is an aunt heckling you about being single—you are single, right?”
Laughter bubbled out of Mariah’s mouth at his question. To think he had guessed that she was single. She assumed he had been a driver for a while and hence was able to read people well.
“You are,” he laughed alongside her. “Then get ready for questions. Your uncle might be the one on your side—uncles are like that—and cousins? Most are nice, some brag about themselves so that they like the brightest star in the room. Stand your ground and make sure they don’t make you feel like a loser, no matter who they are or what they do.”
“I”ll keep that in mind,” Mariah smiled as she slipped on her dark green trench coat and pulled her matching bag to her thighs. “Thanks,” she said and stepped out of the car onto the curb, her heels making a clicking sound on the asphalt. She shut the door and bent her head to look at the man in the driver’s seat.
“No matter how annoying they can be,” he said, in a voice that spoke of years’ worth of wisdom. “Family is family. You’ll be fine.”
Mariah nodded and stood up straight. With a honk, the engine of the car roared and the car drove slowly off the curb. Raising one hand to give the driver a wave, she gasped in shock. Her hand wasn’t trembling anymore. A wide smile spread on her face and she marveled how an everyday taxi driver could be such a blessing.
She stood on the curb for a minute watching the street. It was a high end one lined with luxury apartments and brand stores. It was the kind of place she would expect to find people like James. She shut her eyes tightly at the thought of James and memories flooded her mind—old and recent—causing her knees to go weak.
Mariah! She pulled herself back to the present. She had spent the entire summer thinking about James, uncertain of whether to contact him or not. She had longed to be by his side again. Weeks ago her memories were coming back, and she realized that he was the only human connection she had found to her past.
She also thought about him because she had wanted to apologize for how she had acted when he told her she was Anastasia. But she hadn’t reached out. The more she had fussed about her situation with James, the more anxious she had become. Eventually she had decided to focus on herself first and maybe reach out to James at some point in the future.
She thought about him often, especially whenever he sent a message, photo or video, keeping her up to date with what he was doing on his summer vacation.
Amid all her raging emotions towards James, Veronica had advised her to use this time that he was abroad to settle her thoughts and decide on her future, with or without him, and that was what she was set on doing.
Opening her eyes, she looked at the building again. Room 1101, top floor, she whispered directions to herself and walked toward the gleaming glass rotating doors. The building was as luxurious as she had predicted.
The reception had a gold and cream theme and the floors gleamed, reflecting her outfit as she glided across it. It made her appreciate Veronica’s effort to dress her up even more.
Her god-sister had dressed her in a cream knee length silk shift dress, with matching coat, bag and pumps, and made her let her red curls run free, held by pearl pins, away from her eyes. The effect made Mariah look and feel like a celebrity.
She saw the way people glanced at her as she walked towards the elevator. She felt like she looked fabulous, confident and beautiful. She wished James could see her now. His green eyes would light up and he would make a quip about how the green in her outfit matched his eyes.
Smiling at her thoughts, she entered an empty elevator and made her way to the top floor. After a few minutes, the elevator door pinged open again and she saw a brightly lit foyer with red velvet carpeting. There were two wide hallways that led to the east and west wing and a small desk where another receptionist sat.
Mariah walked to her, asking for directions and was pointed to the east wing. There were only four doors on the east wing and room 1101 was written in gold cursive on the first door. She took a deep breath and felt a sheen of sweat on her forehead.
Lifting her surprisingly steady hand, she knocked on the door, once then twice, and waited. She had seen the pictures of the sisters and had heard Ariel’s voice on the phone, but she still couldn’t recognize which sister was which.
There was noise behind the door and Mariah’s breath caught in her throat when the knob turned and her imagination ran wild. What if the Abrahams weren’t the kind of family she expected. What if Ariel didn’t approve of her.
She considered giving up and bolting back to her apartment when the door was thrown wide open and she was standing face to face with a woman shorter then her. For the first time, Mariah was not the shortest in the room.
She stared openly at the woman, just like the woman stared at her. The woman was dressed in a tie-dye halter dress that had an empire line and flowed down to pool around her ankles. Her bare shoulders and arm were on full display, showing off pale skin. Her fiery red curls were in a pixie cut.
It suited her, putting her heart shaped face on display. Her bright brown eyes twinkled with hidden joy, just like James’s. Mariah saw herself reflected in the woman’s eyes and a rush of familiarity ran though her veins, same as the one she had gotten when James showed her the photo of her parents.
“Ariel?” she croaked, her throat feeling dry all of a sudden.
The woman nodded. “Mariah?” the woman asked and Mariah nodded.
A bright grin broke on Ariel’s face and she squealed, pulling Mariah into a tight hug. “It’s so good to finally meet you!” she broke the hug, but still held onto Mariah’s hand. “Gosh! You are so beautiful.”
“You too,” Mariah found herself saying with a grin. The sing-song accent she had heard over the phone was much more prominent now. It only made Mariah smile even more.
“Nah,” Ariel laughed. “Bethel is the beautiful one. Like Marilyn Monroe’s kind of beauty. I’m just the loud one.”
Mariah’s eyebrow rose in shock. She found Ariel stunning. She looked like she belonged in a movie where she played the ethereal elf queen, and according to her she wasn’t the most beautiful sister. Mariah laughed as Ariel pulled her by the hand through the threshold of the apartment door.
“Come in, come in,” Ariel beamed. “We’ve been waiting all morning.”
Mariah took in her surrounding as she followed Ariel in. The apartment was definitely designed for a woman, who loved the cream and gold theme, just like the apartment reception. The living room was filled with a set of plush of cream sofas with a round glass coffee table in the center.
By one of the floors to ceiling windows that lined the east wall was a set of antique armchairs and a small white wooden table. Underneath her feet was a soft cream carpet the same color as the sheer curtains hanging by the tall windows. They danced in the breeze, shielding the room from the bright sunlight.
There was no demarcation between the living room and the dining room. Mariah’s eyes caught the gleam off the crystal chandelier that hung over the glass table. The golden glow highlighted the gold on the chairs that were arranged around it.
“We?” Mariah asked, as Ariel tugged at her hand, infected by her cousin’s energy. “I thought you were the only one in DC.”
“I was,” Ariel ran a hand through her short curls. “Bethel and Deborah came in yesterday. Mom and the others are en route here as we speak. Their flight should touch down soon.”
Mariah listened and nodded, quite unsure of how she should process this information. She had lived at an orphanage for most of the childhood that she remembered clearly. Though they had tried to live like family, she had never had the luxury of seeing people who looked and sounded like her. It felt different, in a good way.
“Bethel and Debbie are sprucing brunch up—well, brunch for us, lunch for my mom and sisters. Here let me get your coat,” Ariel said, already tugging the shoulders of Mariah’s coat. Like instinct, Mariah pulled back and Ariel’s eyes widened. “Oh, I’m so sorry. Elizabeth always said I invaded her personal space a lot—I thought that’s how all older sisters see their younger ones, but now I see—”
“It’s fine, Ariel,” Mariah’s lips curled into an easy smile. “I think you are just fine. It’s sisters—related by blood—that I have never had. Not even when my parents were around.”
Ariel’s bright eyes turned glassy and she pulled Mariah into a hug. ”Well, now you have nine sisters. Although we grew up together, you’d find each of us is as different as can be.”
“Well, I think the two of us are very similar, sis,” A soft voice said in a southern accent thicker than Ariel’s. Ariel broke the hug and Mariah was allowed to see the bearer of the voice. Mariah’s eyes studied the new sister.
She was petite and had well defined curves, that were beautifully accentuated by the blue jean shorts and red plaid shirt she wore. She wasn’t pale like Mariah and Ariel, instead her skin glowed with a tan. Mariah wondered if she spent all her days in the sunshine—she certainly looked like she did.
Her hair was the same color as her shirt and was held in a curly ponytail. Some tendrils framed her symmetrical face, softening her sharp jawline—a face very different from Ariel’s heart shaped face. Her perfectly plucked brows sat above big bright eyes, a button nose, and full pink lips.
Mariah’s eyes widened at the lady. “Bethel, right?” The lady nodded and a grin erupted on her face, revealing a set of pearly white teeth. “Ariel’s right. You do look like Marilyn Monroe.”
“Why thank you,” Bethel giggled, crossing the distance between the living room and the dining room in elegant strides, like she wasn’t barefooted and the room was a runway. “And you look so gorgeous. Finally! Another fabulous relative,” she wrapped Mariah in a big hug. “I mean just look at that dress? Is it Armani?”
“I…” Mariah blinked wondering how she would tell Bethel that it was not her dress. Veronica had dressed her up and made her swap her glasses for contacts. “I have no idea,” she gave a nervous chuckle to which Bethel smiled.
“Humble too,” she nodded. “Mother always said a humble fabulous woman is the best kind.”
“Mother said that to make you remember to stay humble,” another voice spoke. Mariah looked up as a third sister emerged from an open doorway.
She was dressed in a grey woolen sweater and blue jeans. a pink apron hung over her neck. She had Ariel’s heart shaped face and Bethel’s long red curls. Out of all the three sisters, this one looked most familiar to Mariah.
“Don’t bother Mariah with your life lessons.” The sister Mariah was assuming was Deborah said before she traversed the space between them. She peeled Bethel off Mariah’s arm and ordered her to check up on the chicken in the oven.
Bethel grumbled but obeyed. She watched Bethel with a stern face muttering how actresses should know how to cook their meals. When Bethel disappeared past the wall hiding the kitchen entrance from view, Deborah turned and gave Mariah a big grin.
“Mariah, we’ve been eager to see you since the agency reached out us. I wondered if you would remember me. As a child, you had spent a summer with us at Jacksonville. Before you had arrived I remember I had been excited to play with my cousin Anastasia—my soon to be friend. The night before you arrived, I had barely slept.”
Mariah looked at Deborah as she talked and like with Ariel, she felt a vague familiarity with the woman standing in front of her. But that was all she had—a vague feeling. Her memories of relatives weren’t restored yet.
“I… I don’t remember much, but I feel like I know you. Like I know you all,” Mariah explained.
“We may not understand what you went through—what you are going through still—but you have a family now, a big one.”
Mariah laughed at Deborah’s comment and initiated the hug this time. After the revelation of her identity, she had felt like she had been uprooted from all she had never known and had been left floating in an abyss. But now, a warm feeling seeped through her after each sister’s introduction.
“Thank you,” Mariah said, “For accepting to talk to me about my mother’s life and history. It means a lot to me.”
“It means a lot to us too,” Deborah hummed. “We cannot imagine living all those years thinking you had no real relatives. We are here now and we Abraham sisters don’t shake off easily.”
“I can see that,” Mariah laughed and broke the hug. “You can call me ‘Anastasia’. That’s the name you probably know me as.”
“Yeah… but we kinda like Mariah.” Bethel popped her head into the room from the kitchen doorway. “It’s Spanish for Mary, right? We have an Elizabeth, a Sara, a Ruth, a Judith, a Deborah, one Ariel, one Rebecca, a Hanna. Yours truly, Bethel and now we have you, a Mary.”
“Yeah,” Mariah beamed, tears welling up in her eyes. “A Mary.”
“Oh, don’t cry now,” Ariel cooed. “Not until Mother gets here. She always knows what to—”
A knock on the door broke the conversation. From outside the door, Mariah heard the ruckus of many voices, and her heartbeat sped up. If what Ariel had said earlier about the rest of the family coming over was true, then the noise was them.
“Aren’t they an hour early?” Bethel blanched. “The chicken isn’t ready yet. Mother is gonna freak.”
“There’s an explanation for this, I’m sure,” Ariel shook her head then her eyes fixed on Deborah with a glare. “Did you trick me with their arrival time?”
“Maybe,” Deborah chuckled and walked over to the door. “Prepare to meet—” she said with her hand on the doorknob. “—the rest of us. We are quite the sight,” With that, she opened the door and seven women, all different shades of red hair filled the room. They spoke all at once and Mariah slowly shrunk to the background.
Deborah, Ariel, and even Bethel who appeared out of nowhere, were giving hugs, receiving kisses, and taking bags off hands. Mariah was content to watch them. A deep sense of belonging filled her. Her cousins all looked and sounded somewhat like her and even though they all seemed like different people with beautiful personalities. But it was exactly what she had wanted in an extended family, different yet alike.
A few seconds into the boisterous reunion, Mariah noticed that Ariel looked at her. Clearly Ariel had just realized that Mariah wasn’t caught up in the pleasantries. Mariah shook her head and cringed when Ariel raised her voice and said, “Mother… sisters, we have a special someone in our midst.”
The room fell silent as all eyes fell on Mariah. She squirmed in her heels. Aside from Deborah, Ariel and Bethel who had big grins on their faces, the other women looked at her like they were seeing a ghost.
None spoke until the lady with light red hair streaked with gray walked up to her. She assumed she was Eleanor Abraham, her aunt. The agency and Veronica had ensured she had some information about the Abrahams prior to their meeting.
Eleanor was dressed in a beige dress speckled with patterns of white dandelions. Mariah flinched when Eleanor took a hold of one of her cold hands. Eleanor’s hand was warm. She cupped Mariah’s face with her other hand. Mariah leaned into the touch with a smile, seeing herself reflected in Eleanor’s bright eyes.
“You look just like my little sister,” Eleanor said, tears welling up in her eyes. “Allison had cut us off after her disagreement with my dad. We never got to see you again little one. We didn’t know that something tragic had happened. The least we could have done was find her and where she ran to with you.”
“It’s okay, Mother,” a woman placed her hand on Eleanor’s shoulder. “It’s not your fault Aunt Allison went kinda off the grid. She… she needed space to think, I guess.”
“We might not meet her again until heaven if God permits.” Another one of the sisters spoke this time, one that looked like Ariel with longer curls. “But we have you now. Through you, your mother’s legacy lives on.”
Mariah’s eyes stung at the kind words and she developed a sheen that she quickly tried to blink away. The incoming tears weren’t listening and she felt them pool in her eyes.
“It does,” Eleanor said, wiping the tears that pooled in Mariah’s eyes. “Mariah is still Anastasia and Anastasia is an Abraham now… if she wishes to be.”
Despite Rose’s attempt to abate them, tears flowed freely from Mariah’s eyes. The Abrahams were extended family and for their first meeting, Mariah had anticipated a cold one sided conversation after formalities were out of the way and they had sat down. She was thrown off guard with the instant introductions and camaraderie.
Her throat felt tight and a lump rose with each tear that fell from her eyes, keeping her mute, else she start wailing. She nodded instead with a teary smile and the sisters cooed, before encircling her and wrapping her in a group hug.
“Welcome to the family, Mariah,” Eleanor announced, “it feels so right to have you back.”
Silence filled the room as Mariah soaked in the moment, asking herself how she got so lucky. It didn’t matter if it might take a while before she got to know each sister properly. She felt accepted and understood. That was all she ever wanted to feel at that moment.
Slowly, but surely, the intensity of the group hug began to wane and a sense of peace enveloped Mariah and the lump in her throat began to disappear—she was ready to speak. Before she could do so, Bethel spoke up in alarm.
“Do you smell that?” She asked sniffing the air. Her eyes grew wide and she broke out of the hug first. “My chicken!” she cried and bolted for the kitchen.
The hug broke apart as laughter and quips about her terrible cooking filled the room. Deborah and Ariel laughed hard as they followed Bethel’s tracks to the kitchen where brunch was apparently burning. Eleanor who was still standing beside Mariah placed one hand on her shoulders with a smile on her lips.
“When you are with us, except a lot of new memories to be created, okay? And a bit of terrible cooking. Now tell us how you’ve been all these years.”
“I wouldn’t want it any other way,” Mariah smiled and took hold of Eleanor’s hand. Together they sat on the biggest couch and the remaining sisters followed suit, taking seats across the room, wanting to hear what Mariah had to say about her past.
She trembled as she spoke but they listened with rapt attention in their bright eyes and in their smiles. She found something she found mostly in James. Kindness, pure and sweet kindness.