Chapter 45 #2
“My cousin Margaret called me. Your brother’s daughter.
She picked up. When I told her who I was, the line went quiet for what felt like two full minutes.
” I move the grass with my shoe. “I told her who I was. She started crying. She asked if I remembered her, and I felt so bad. I told her about the memory loss, and that only made it worse. Her voice shook over the phone. She also told me how hard things had been for her parents back then. Her father had lost his job. They couldn’t afford to take either Abuelita or me in.
Eight months later, when things had steadied, they looked for me.
” I wipe a tear. “But by then, it was a closed adoption. My name had already been changed.” A gentle kiss on my head keeps me from falling apart.
“I’m sorry, Abuelita.” Margaret also told me that Abuelita had passed four months later from a heart attack. Everyone says she died of a broken heart. She would call for my mother and me every day. I hate that she felt guilty about having to let me go.
I assured Margaret that I was fine. Everything turned out like it was supposed to.
Twenty minutes later, Max and I drive home. “So, when are you and your cousin going to meet?”
Taking a sip of water first, I answer him. “We’re not sure yet, but maybe once the twins are born, it will probably work out. And you have your fight coming soon, and I have school. When we do, it will be on the weekend.”
“Whatever works for you, amor. I’m just happy you’re finding what you have been searching for.” Max clasps his hands in mine, dragging them on his lap. “Are you okay?”
“Yes. Knowing where they’re buried, being able to fill in those missing pieces—it’s helped me understand where I come from.” I give his hand a squeeze. “Thank you…again.”
“You’re welcome. Anything for you.”
Before going home, we make a quick stop at Needs for Teens. Max wanted to drop off his monthly donation and help Mrs. Debbie with any work she might need. And I also wanted to give her the good news.
Mrs. Debbie’s long gray hair sways as she moves to unload her groceries. Max jogs up to her. “I got you.”
She raises her head. “Oh, my sweet boy.” Her eyes sparkle. She sets her bags back into her car and opens her arms. I imagine her doing this to him when he was a child. Max embraces her warm arms. “How are you doing, honey?”
“Doing good. I’m ready for the babies to come. I already have the nursery ready for them. God, I’m ready to breathe normally.”
That he does. We spent the last month getting all ready.
We have the bassinets set up in our room, and when they are big enough, their rooms are ready.
It’s so crazy how a year has passed since Max brought me to his home and pointed out that the rooms were for our kids.
This man knew what he was doing from the beginning.
“Wonderful. I have gifts for the little ones.” Mrs. Debbie turns toward me. “Sweetheart, look at you. You’re glowing and tired.” She pulls me in for a hug, then rubs my belly. She waves me inside, letting Max carry the bags.
“I’m so tired. I would much rather have them in my arms than have a war in me.” I laugh. “I’m not sure if I have asked you, but do you have kids?” I don’t recall if Max had mentioned it. She clearly is a mother figure to all. There is a warmth to her that seeps into you.
“No, not by blood, but I’ve dedicated my time and heart to this place.
I have had so many kids who’ve walked through these doors that I’ve loved and protected as if they were my own.
” She looks over my shoulder at Max, who’s unbagging.
“These children need me. Maybe it’s a warm shower, clean clothes, a bed to nap on, a place to hang, a warm meal, or even a warm hug.
I’m here for them.” In all my life, I have never met a woman with such a big heart.
My eyes water, and my heart liquefies. “You are someone I would look up to. It takes a special person to change the lives of many. When you are ready to retire, Max and I would love to take over. I know I have big shoes to fill. I meant what I said before. I would like to continue your legacy.”
She clasps her hands with excitement. “My heart would be at peace if you two took over.”
Max disappears to fix the loose door hinges he’d noticed on the way in and leaves money on the counter without making a thing of it. My wing necklace brushes against my collarbone. I hold on to it and think of those I’ve lost. My parents, grandmother, Leo, and my adoptive mom.
“How have you been feeling? In here.” Mrs. Debbie points to her heart and temple.
“Much better than the last time you saw me when Leo and I came.” Leo. Damn, I miss him.
It’s always easy to talk to Mrs. Debbie, so I tell her about therapy and my cousins, and I also mention visiting my parents’ grave.
I’ve been circling around this for a while now.
Months really. “I have a letter my adoptive mom wrote me before her passing. She gave it to her attorney and asked him to wait for the right time to hand it to me. I’m sure my adoptive father didn’t know about it. ”
“Have you opened it?” she asks.
“My therapist advised me to open it when I’m ready. I’ve had so much going on to even think about it. You would think I’d be eager to read it, but the truth is I dread it. I don’t want a setback.”
Mrs. Debbie digs into her purse. Then ties her hair into a bun.
She peers at me with her warm irises. “I agree with your therapist on this one. Your adoptive mother should have handed this to you when she was on her deathbed. It’s odd she didn’t.
The only person you can trust is your husband.
Have him read it, and if it’s complete bullshit, toss it.
No need to dwell on questions you’ll never get answers for.
You have a family—one that needs you now.
Don’t let them take more than what they’ve done. ”
She’s right. I’ve made progress, and I didn’t expect to recover from it all overnight. I’m at a good place in my personal life. I’m married, and two beautiful kids will be here soon.
“I heard you and Mrs. Debbie talking about the letter Jenna left you,” he says as we drive back home.
“So much has happened that I put it aside. After Leo’s passing, I didn’t have the energy for it.”
He nods. “I can look it over or just toss it.”
I had asked Justin if he knew anything about it. He didn’t. “Read it,” I tell him. “Then burn it. If there’s something in there I need to know, tell me. Otherwise, don’t.”