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Paige
***
I’ve been too much of a chicken to be at work the last couple of days. Just knowing that he could have already seen the candy gram Margie and I sent him... well, she sent it to him from me, or rather, from his secret admirer. God, the nerves in my belly are going crazy.
He texted me earlier today, and I’ve totally ignored him. I don’t know what to say. He thinks I’m sick... yeah, I’m sick all right... sick to my stomach from the nerves inside.
Margot thinks I should just go to work tomorrow and act like nothing has happened, like I don’t know a thing. I guess that’s the best thing to do, but I’m going to have a hard time facing him and lying about it. Shit, I’m such a loser when it comes to guys. Why couldn’t I have been born with the same confidence she has?
I step into the kitchen and see Margie scooping some mint chocolate chip ice cream into two bowls. Uh-oh. Whenever she’s scooping that much ice cream into bowls at ten o’clock at night, I know something is up.
“Hey, Margie. You OK?” I ask as I pull up a chair at the table.
Her dark brown eyes meet my baby blue ones. Fuck, she’s been crying. She shrugs and drops down into the chair to her right.
“What’s wrong, Margot?” I get up from my seat and walk over to her. I kneel down to be at eye level with her and place an arm around her shoulder. Immediately, the spoon she was holding falls on the table, and she’s wrapping her arms around me. She starts bawling uncontrollably into my embrace, her body shaking with each breath. “Girl, what’s wrong?” I try again. I’m worried about her. Margot doesn’t cry like this unless it’s something serious.
When she finally composes herself, she pulls back from me and looks into my eyes. She shrugs once more and then replies, “I found my mother.”
My eyes widen. “Your mom? Really? That’s great news, Margie... isn’t it?”
Margot has been looking for her mother since before she could remember. Apparently, her mother had given her up for adoption when she was born.
About two years ago, Margot signed up with an agency that specializes to help adoptive children find their biological parents. She got word right away that her biological father had passed away even before she had been born. His parents hadn’t even known he was going to be a father. But Margot’s mother was alive, and they would begin searching for her. Now I guess Margot finally got the answers she had been hoping for all along.
Margot had amazing adoptive parents, but still, she had always felt like there was that part of her that had been missing. She had always wondered what it would feel like to meet and know her biological mother.
“It is,” she chokes out, “but I’m afraid of meeting her.”
“What? Margie, she replied?” I inquire.
“Dana is her name. The agency told her that I have been trying to find her all these years, and she agreed to a meeting,” Margot says, standing up and wiping her eyes with a Kleenex.
I’m confused. This was what Margot had wanted for so long. Why is she so upset?
“So, isn’t that a good thing?” I try once more.
Shrugging again, she says, “P, she’s over fifty-years-old... she has grown up since she gave me away when she was just fifteen. Why the hell didn’t she come searching for me? Why the fuck did I have to be the one to look for her? She obviously doesn’t want anything to do with me and probably only agreed to meet me so that she can clear her conscience.”
Margie pushes one of the bowls my way and then takes the other and sits down. She stabs her spoon into the bowl of ice cream and shoves it into her mouth. She’s so pissed.
I grab the bowl and pick up a spoon off the table. Fuck, I need to calm her down somehow. But what can I say? I can’t help but wonder the same thing she’s been thinking. If I knew I had a daughter out in the world, I would definitely want to try my best to find her. God knows what type of situation her mother was in, but I don’t care. If that was my kid, I’d want to find her no matter what. Still, I need to try and say something, anything, comforting. “Well, maybe she was just nervous about meeting you... maybe she always felt that you resented her for giving you up.”
She looks at me and smirks. “I didn’t... ‘til now.”
Shit.
“You know, I was kind of hoping they would have told me she was dead right alongside the bastard that got her pregnant with me. At least then I would understand why she didn’t come searching for me. But to know that she’s out there living her life, not giving a fuck about me, really gets me fuming.”
I nod, but I try once again to steer the conversation into safer grounds. “So, when are you supposed to be meeting her?”
“In two days.”
“On Valentine’s Day?” I ask.
She nods. “Yup. Fucking Valentine’s Day. That’s what she fucking wanted. She’s lucky I don’t have a man, and I have no plans.” She shoves another spoonful of ice cream into her mouth, and after swallowing, says, “Anyways, forget about the bitch. I’ll deal with her when I see her. What about you? How are you feeling?”
I make a dubious face. Why is she asking how I feel? I’m fine. She knows the reason why I had skipped work the last two days.
“Me? I’m fine... why?”
As if she weren’t just bawling her eyes out into my shirt, she bursts out laughing.
“What is so funny?” I ask.
She catches her breath and gasps. “You mean, you really don’t know? Shit, P. I thought you knew. If I were you, I would have been checking that shit.”
“What shit? What are you talking about? What don’t I know?” I feel so lost and am ready to explode. What the fuck is going on?
“Mr. Perfect got the candy gram. Today. It was delivered to his house this afternoon, so I’m sure by now he’s opened it and seen the note. Shit, he’s probably licking that lollipop up and down right now... kinda makes you wish it were you he was doing that to, don’t you? Well, two days and he will be!”
“Margie!” My mouth goes agape. Her capability of going from one extreme to the next is insane.
“What? It’s true. If all goes according to plan, which it will, he’s not going to be able to keep his hands off you on Thursday night. Like I said before, you should totally go into work tomorrow and act like you don’t know a thing. Again, you’re welcome.” Margie smiles and digs right back into her frozen treat.
I shake my head back and forth. I can’t believe this woman, but she’s right. He’s probably already read the note and wondering who sent it. I need to go to work tomorrow and act like I know nothing.
“Margie?”
“Yes, P?” She bats her eyes at me, and I want to laugh.
“I’m going into the office tomorrow.”
“That’s a good girl,” she says. “Now, eat your ice cream, and let’s go try on some outfits.”