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Authors: Jessica Gibson
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smiled when Mia met her eyes, and pushed the chair back from the dining table.
“ I’ll go and get the box ” she said, with a knowing nod in Mia ’ s father ’ s direction “ would you two mind just clearing the table while I go and get it? We are going to need the space ” she smiled again, as if to reassure Mia, and then walked out of the room.
“ Come on then, Pumpkin ” her father said, as he too pushed back his chair and stood up “ better do as she - your mum - says ” . He started gathering up the plates, and gestured to Mia to start tidying away the condiments and napkins. As she worked, Mia surreptitiously watched her father, wondering what box her mother had gone to fetch, and how her parents really felt about doing this.
The only thing that betrayed her father’s discomfort was his use of the name he had called her when she was a very small child, and the fact that he had qualified that he meant her mother when he said “she”. Other than that, he seemed to be very calm and collected and normal . He certainly did not look as though his only daughter had broken his heart, and Mia’s relief was palpable.
Mia and her father had finished clearing the table and were sitting in silence when her mother returned, bearing a plastic packing box which was covered in dust and more than a few cobwebs. Her mother set the box down on the table, then carefully removed the lid, screwing up her face in disgust as her hands got coated in a grimy layer of dust, and cobwebs floated off and clung to her clothes.
“ This is everything we know, everything we have about your beginnings ” she said with a deep breath “ of course, we would have given it to you when you turned eighteen, your Dad and I agreed that when we adopted you. We also agreed that we would never withhold it from you if you asked for it, isn ’ t that right, Joe? ” Mia ’ s father nodded, his eyes still focused on his daughter. Regardless of blood, she would always be his daughter, he thought to himself. It didn't matter that he and Mary were not her real parents. She was their little girl, and always would be.
“ Well, come on then honey - come over here and go through this stuff with me. This is yours after all. It may not be much, but it’s all we have - I ’ m only sorry it isn ’ t more. I don ’ t think it will tell you much, but I ’ ll let you be the judge of that ” her mother smiled.
Mia remained in her seat, and looked back and forth between the smiling faces of the people she had called her parents all her life. At that moment, she regretted asking. She didn't want to know who she might have been, in an entirely different set of circumstances. She wanted to just be her , who she was, who she had always been - she wanted to forget she was even adopted, she wanted to just be a family. But something within her told her she had to know. It was important for some reason, although the reason was not clear to her.
All this fuss and upset, over a stupid dream, she thought to herself harshly. Still, there was no going back now. She stood up slowly, and peered over the edge of the box and into it. Her mother had been right, there wasn’t much in there. Mostly it looked as though it was a collection of papers, a piece of fabric peeked out from beneath a newspaper cutting, it looked as though it might have been a blanket, but there was nothing else in there.
As Mia simply stood and stared into the box, as though the box contained a monster waiting to bite her hand off. Her mother took the initiative and began removing things from the box, one by one.
“ This ” said Mia ’ s mother, holding up one piece of paper “ is your adoption certificate. That was undoubtedly the best day of our lives, Mia, the day you became our daughter ” she smiled, and Mia could tell the smile was genuine, and returned it. But it was not information about after she came to be their daughter that she needed, it was before that she needed to
“ I’ll go and get the box ” she said, with a knowing nod in Mia ’ s father ’ s direction “ would you two mind just clearing the table while I go and get it? We are going to need the space ” she smiled again, as if to reassure Mia, and then walked out of the room.
“ Come on then, Pumpkin ” her father said, as he too pushed back his chair and stood up “ better do as she - your mum - says ” . He started gathering up the plates, and gestured to Mia to start tidying away the condiments and napkins. As she worked, Mia surreptitiously watched her father, wondering what box her mother had gone to fetch, and how her parents really felt about doing this.
The only thing that betrayed her father’s discomfort was his use of the name he had called her when she was a very small child, and the fact that he had qualified that he meant her mother when he said “she”. Other than that, he seemed to be very calm and collected and normal . He certainly did not look as though his only daughter had broken his heart, and Mia’s relief was palpable.
Mia and her father had finished clearing the table and were sitting in silence when her mother returned, bearing a plastic packing box which was covered in dust and more than a few cobwebs. Her mother set the box down on the table, then carefully removed the lid, screwing up her face in disgust as her hands got coated in a grimy layer of dust, and cobwebs floated off and clung to her clothes.
“ This is everything we know, everything we have about your beginnings ” she said with a deep breath “ of course, we would have given it to you when you turned eighteen, your Dad and I agreed that when we adopted you. We also agreed that we would never withhold it from you if you asked for it, isn ’ t that right, Joe? ” Mia ’ s father nodded, his eyes still focused on his daughter. Regardless of blood, she would always be his daughter, he thought to himself. It didn't matter that he and Mary were not her real parents. She was their little girl, and always would be.
“ Well, come on then honey - come over here and go through this stuff with me. This is yours after all. It may not be much, but it’s all we have - I ’ m only sorry it isn ’ t more. I don ’ t think it will tell you much, but I ’ ll let you be the judge of that ” her mother smiled.
Mia remained in her seat, and looked back and forth between the smiling faces of the people she had called her parents all her life. At that moment, she regretted asking. She didn't want to know who she might have been, in an entirely different set of circumstances. She wanted to just be her , who she was, who she had always been - she wanted to forget she was even adopted, she wanted to just be a family. But something within her told her she had to know. It was important for some reason, although the reason was not clear to her.
All this fuss and upset, over a stupid dream, she thought to herself harshly. Still, there was no going back now. She stood up slowly, and peered over the edge of the box and into it. Her mother had been right, there wasn’t much in there. Mostly it looked as though it was a collection of papers, a piece of fabric peeked out from beneath a newspaper cutting, it looked as though it might have been a blanket, but there was nothing else in there.
As Mia simply stood and stared into the box, as though the box contained a monster waiting to bite her hand off. Her mother took the initiative and began removing things from the box, one by one.
“ This ” said Mia ’ s mother, holding up one piece of paper “ is your adoption certificate. That was undoubtedly the best day of our lives, Mia, the day you became our daughter ” she smiled, and Mia could tell the smile was genuine, and returned it. But it was not information about after she came to be their daughter that she needed, it was before that she needed to
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