called.
“My tongue is dry,” I said, standing up. “Can I have a glass of water, please?”
“Of course. I’ll be back right away,” he said, stepping out.
I glanced around the room. My eyes settled on a framed photograph on the nightstand. As I drew near, I saw it was a photo of a little girl with braces and auburn hair, holding a teddy bear.
“Is this your sister?” I said when Joshua came in with a glass of water. “She’s so pretty.”
“Was pretty,” he said, turning his back to the photograph. “And I really don’t want to talk about it.”
“I’m sorry,” I said.
“I told my mother not to put it in here, but she just won’t listen.” He took the photograph from the shelf and put it into a drawer without looking at it.
“Sorry again. Let’s finish what we started, okay?”
I took a deep breath and, guided by my previous victorious presentation, I dialed Sarah’s number. Six long signals, each of them fortifying the pounding of my heart, separated me from an indifferent female voice.
“Sarah’s not here, she’s out,” she said. I could tell by the tone of her voice that she was filing her nails or peeling an apple. She told me to call again in half an hour.
Those were the longest and most discouraging thirty minutes of my life. Joshua was in such a bad mood that I even wondered whether I should just leave him alone and call Sarah from my own home. We barely spoke. When I took the phone again, my confidence was rather feeble.
“Sarah speaking.”
I felt my heart climbing up to my throat. I can’t remember what I said exactly. Now it seems to me like all the words commingled into one big, screaming word salad, and I’m pretty sure I sounded rather schizophrenic. I remember saying “birth mother”, “hospital”, and “say goodbye”. But what Sarah said was sobering. It slapped me in the face like a heavy, cold palm of rancorousness.
“I don’t want to hear about that woman ever again,” she said in a perfectly cold voice.
How foolish of me was not to take into account the possibility of Sarah not wanting to get in touch with Mrs. Wheeler. From the beginning of this venture, all I saw as possible hurdles were the inability to find Mrs. Wheeler’s daughter and my lack of confidence. I never thought that she wouldn’t be willing to even hear about her birth mother, let alone visit her while she was on her deathbed. What reckless romantic force made me think that we lived in a world where abandoned children shone the light of forgiveness on their parent’s last days on Earth? Too many movies perhaps?
I called Sarah’s number one more time.
“Just leave me alone, please.” That was everything that I heard before she slammed the phone down.
I was defeated.
“It seemed too easy; I knew it wasn’t going to end well,” I said, stretching my shaky hands to take the glass of water again.
“So what are you going to do now?” Joshua asked, staring at his toes. Despite his question, he didn’t seem interested in Mrs. Wheeler’s destiny, her daughter’s destiny, or even mine.
“I don’t think there’s anything more I can do.”
“You’re just going to give up, right?” he said with a strange, bitter look on his face.
I moved my hand to catch the sunbeam that was dancing above the floor.
“I don’t want to, but I don’t know what else to do.”
We sat in silence for more than a minute before I decided to break it.
“Let’s go spend some time with your mom”, I said, taking his hand. It was warm and moist.
He raised his eyes toward me, slowly shaking his head.
“We promised her,” I said.
“Okay.”
He guided me to the living room, pulled the door open, and said, “Mom, Ruby wants to talk to you.” Then he turned to me. “You’ll find me in the park… if you want.”
“Sit down, honey,” Joshua’s mother said. “And don’t take it personally; he’s just sad, and he doesn’t know how to deal with it. I know he likes you.”
My
“My tongue is dry,” I said, standing up. “Can I have a glass of water, please?”
“Of course. I’ll be back right away,” he said, stepping out.
I glanced around the room. My eyes settled on a framed photograph on the nightstand. As I drew near, I saw it was a photo of a little girl with braces and auburn hair, holding a teddy bear.
“Is this your sister?” I said when Joshua came in with a glass of water. “She’s so pretty.”
“Was pretty,” he said, turning his back to the photograph. “And I really don’t want to talk about it.”
“I’m sorry,” I said.
“I told my mother not to put it in here, but she just won’t listen.” He took the photograph from the shelf and put it into a drawer without looking at it.
“Sorry again. Let’s finish what we started, okay?”
I took a deep breath and, guided by my previous victorious presentation, I dialed Sarah’s number. Six long signals, each of them fortifying the pounding of my heart, separated me from an indifferent female voice.
“Sarah’s not here, she’s out,” she said. I could tell by the tone of her voice that she was filing her nails or peeling an apple. She told me to call again in half an hour.
Those were the longest and most discouraging thirty minutes of my life. Joshua was in such a bad mood that I even wondered whether I should just leave him alone and call Sarah from my own home. We barely spoke. When I took the phone again, my confidence was rather feeble.
“Sarah speaking.”
I felt my heart climbing up to my throat. I can’t remember what I said exactly. Now it seems to me like all the words commingled into one big, screaming word salad, and I’m pretty sure I sounded rather schizophrenic. I remember saying “birth mother”, “hospital”, and “say goodbye”. But what Sarah said was sobering. It slapped me in the face like a heavy, cold palm of rancorousness.
“I don’t want to hear about that woman ever again,” she said in a perfectly cold voice.
How foolish of me was not to take into account the possibility of Sarah not wanting to get in touch with Mrs. Wheeler. From the beginning of this venture, all I saw as possible hurdles were the inability to find Mrs. Wheeler’s daughter and my lack of confidence. I never thought that she wouldn’t be willing to even hear about her birth mother, let alone visit her while she was on her deathbed. What reckless romantic force made me think that we lived in a world where abandoned children shone the light of forgiveness on their parent’s last days on Earth? Too many movies perhaps?
I called Sarah’s number one more time.
“Just leave me alone, please.” That was everything that I heard before she slammed the phone down.
I was defeated.
“It seemed too easy; I knew it wasn’t going to end well,” I said, stretching my shaky hands to take the glass of water again.
“So what are you going to do now?” Joshua asked, staring at his toes. Despite his question, he didn’t seem interested in Mrs. Wheeler’s destiny, her daughter’s destiny, or even mine.
“I don’t think there’s anything more I can do.”
“You’re just going to give up, right?” he said with a strange, bitter look on his face.
I moved my hand to catch the sunbeam that was dancing above the floor.
“I don’t want to, but I don’t know what else to do.”
We sat in silence for more than a minute before I decided to break it.
“Let’s go spend some time with your mom”, I said, taking his hand. It was warm and moist.
He raised his eyes toward me, slowly shaking his head.
“We promised her,” I said.
“Okay.”
He guided me to the living room, pulled the door open, and said, “Mom, Ruby wants to talk to you.” Then he turned to me. “You’ll find me in the park… if you want.”
“Sit down, honey,” Joshua’s mother said. “And don’t take it personally; he’s just sad, and he doesn’t know how to deal with it. I know he likes you.”
My
Similar Books
