eighteen

BRONXVILLE, NEW YORK

2010

Voices echoed from the playroom down the hall as Emily’s brothers played Xbox and screamed at the screen as if it were a living thing. Emily and her parents—Elena and Larry—sat on the couch ready to talk.

“Mom, I didn’t want to make you upset. I just wanted to see what she looked like. That’s all. I’ve always wondered.”

“I wanted to love you enough that you never wondered.”

Elena’s legs were curled up underneath her bottom. A tissue crumpled and wet in her hand was the only sign of her tears. Emily scooted across the couch and hugged her mom, throwing one leg over Elena’s lap as if she were a toddler. “You love me more than anything. For sure this has everything to do with me and wondering where I got my looks from and stupid stuff like that. I mean, really, Mom, wouldn’t you be curious?”

Elena nodded. “Maybe so, yes. But now she knows you. She knows where you live and who you are. Her sisters know too.”

“So?”

“They’ll want to meet you. Who wouldn’t want to meet you? I hate Facebook.” Elena dropped her head into her hands. “I told you Facebook was nothing but trouble.”

Larry hugged his wife and laughed. “Nothing but trouble.”

Fighting over a remote control, Emily’s brothers tumbled into the room to find their mom, dad, and sister huddled together on the couch as if a tornado had rattled the home. “What did Emily do now?” Steve, her littlest brother, asked.

Emily looked up at her brother while reaching for a magazine off the coffee table, which she promptly and accurately threw at his head. Steve ducked and the papers crashed into the wall, knocking a botanical sketch crooked.

“I didn’t do anything. We were just talking,” Emily said.

“You made Mom cry.”

Elena stood and faced her sons with a smile. “No, she didn’t. Come here, I want to tell you something.”

The boys glanced at each other finally forgetting who really “owned” the remote. “What?” They asked in unison.

Elena glanced at Emily and then to the boys. “Emily found some photos of her birth mother and we were talking about that.”

“And her sisters and family,” Emily said, glancing over the back of the couch to make faces at her brothers behind her mother’s back.

Ethan, the older brother pointed at Emily. “Does she look like Emily? Does she look like a mushroom?”

Emily jumped off the couch and ran toward Ethan, who knew that if he didn’t escape, an Indian burn would appear on his arm.

“You’re dead,” she hollered after him.

“I love you, Sissy,” his voice echoed from the back hallway.

Emily shook her head. “See, Mom. We’re real family. Nothing can change that.”

Elena looked up to the ceiling with a smile on her face. “Oh, Dear Lord, where oh where did I go wrong?”

Laughter filled the room and Elena walked to the kitchen to begin preparations for dinner. Emily plopped next to her dad. “What do you think? Should I meet her?”

“I think you and your mom should discuss this.”

“Cop-out.” Emily smiled at her dad and poked his arm.

He leaned forward and placed his hand on Emily’s knee. “Baby, you know we’re your parents. You know how much we love you. If you want to meet the woman who gave birth to you, then you should. I trust you. This is hard on your mom because deep down she’s always been worried about losing you and this brings up all those fears.”

“Lose me? That’s crazy.”

“Not to your mother.” He winked. “And I suggest that you don’t even think about using that word with her.”

“I won’t.” Emily leaned back on the couch cushions. “It would be interesting, I think, to meet her. Just see what she’s like. It’s not like I want to hang out with her and be best friends.”

“Like a country you heard about, but never visited.”

“Exactly.” Emily said, taking her dad’s hand. “Exactly. I don’t want to live there. I just want to see what it looks like.”

He nodded. “Then you should.”

Emily settled into her dad’s shoulder for a hug. How could they ever believe that they could lose her?