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“I run a hut on the beach that serves drinks to tourists. I lease it, but it’s mine to run. I’m saving for whatever’s next.”
She smiles, seeming unaware of my feelings or else glossing over them, and the corners of her eyes smudge from her wet eyeliner. “And how is Taralyn?”
“She sells candles in the tourist market. She was the director of a conservation firm, but she retired a few years ago and mainly does her crafts now.”
“I remember that. She was quite a bit older than me. And was she married?”
“No. She says I’m the only man for her.”
Sadness flashes across Anita’s face. “So, no father. But she was a great mom?”
“The best.”
Anita nods. “You’ve turned out so beautifully. I’m so grateful you came to find me.”
I have no idea where to take this next. I wasn’t prepared for the anger, the fire, the pain. I want to escape it. I turn to Tillie.
“You ready to go?” she asks.
“I think so.” We stand up.
Anita rises with us. “I work at the Central Library if you ever want to find me. Or online.”
I’m not sure what I want other than to get away and think. “Okay.”
She nods, tearing up again as if she might get it now, that I’m not interested, that there was no absolution, no reason to leave me other than mistakes, panic, and fear. “Thank you for letting me see you.” She steps forward for an embrace.
I hesitate a moment. It feels wrong to hug this stranger. To give her what my mother earned all the years she raised me. I stiffen, but then Tillie meets my gaze. She’s emotional. She’s feeling something. And she knows where I’m at. She’s been in this place. Worse, even. She faced it day after day, the closed door of her father’s room, the misery ignored.
So I take a step toward Anita and let her wrap her arms around my shoulders.
When she’s close, there’s something about her that isn’t foreign at all. Her hair tickles my cheek. Her heart slams against my chest. I once knew these things about her. Somewhere, deep in the recesses of my subconscious memory, I felt that hair. I heard that heartbeat. It was the first sound I knew.
We hold on longer and more tightly than I think we will.
She has a hard time smiling when we part. “Good luck, Gabe. I wish you both well.”
Tillie takes my hand as we walk away. I don’t look back.
“You did it,” she says. “How do you feel?”
“I was mad.”
“That’s fair. She left you.”
“Then shocked that all the rumors were true.”
She nods. “Those were hard things to learn about your mother.”
“Birth mother.”
Tillie squeezes my hand. “Right.”
“Do you think she regrets leaving me behind?”
“Yes. I do. It’s affected her all her life. Today was hard on you, but I think it was pure misery for her, even though she did get to see you.”
I stare up into the clear blue sky as if the clouds will arrange themselves into answers. “Should I have stayed away?”
