Chasing Abby (6 page)

I lift the lid on the box and the first photo is of Claire Knight holding Abby in that conference room more than seventeen years ago. I didn’t know they had taken photos of Abby while they were in there. I’m not sure how I feel about that.

I take a few breaths to calm myself, then I flip to the next photo in the stack. My heart races when I see another picture from that meeting in the conference room, but this one is with Abby and Chris. They’re both smiling as she reaches for his mouth. She has his brown eyes, the feature of her appearance that made her question why she doesn’t look like Brian or me. 

I set the pictures back in the box and replace the lid. I can’t do this. Brian will have to return the photos to the safe-deposit box without me. I don’t have the strength to look through these hundreds of pictures while suffering such feelings of inadequacy.

We’ll never be as young or wealthy or good looking as the Knights. And I know it’s ridiculous to envy a woman who obviously has emotional issues after dealing with the suicide of her mother, but I do. I envy Claire. I don’t know how she got Chris to forgive her after she gave Abigail up for adoption without his knowledge. All I know is that this adoption nearly broke Brian and me more times than I can count. I won’t allow a box of photos to deliver the final blow.

A
MY
RIDES
HOME
with Caleb and me after school. An April storm swooped in while we were in third period. The smell of the rain and the sound of the drops tapping on the vinyl convertible top is soothing after a long day of fake smiles. Amy and Caleb are the only people who know about the significance of today’s date. Everyone at school was wishing me a happy eighteenth birthday, completely oblivious as to how unhappy today actually is.

I haven’t told Caleb or Amy, but I’ve already made my decision about opening the safe-deposit box.

Caleb pulls into the driveway, next to my dad’s silver pickup truck, and turns off the engine. The silence that follows brings a smile to my face. They’re both waiting for direction from me.

“Let’s go. I’m sure my mom is pacing the living room, waiting for me to walk through the front door.”

Caleb laughs, but Amy shakes her head. Her wavy brown hair is damp at the ends from the rain and the light freckles on her nose are showing through her makeup, but she still looks great. My makeup is probably all gone.  

“Is your mom going to freak out?”

I push the passenger door open and a few raindrops fall on my arm. “Amy, this is my mom. Of course she’s going to freak out… on the inside. On the outside, she’ll pretend like everything is okay.”

Caleb grabs my shoulder as we stroll up the front walk, then he gives it a soft squeeze. “Whatever you choose is the right choice. Don’t let anyone make you believe otherwise.”

I smile and, for some reason, the $4,000 guitar lying in his trunk comes to mind. Of course Caleb thinks that whatever I choose is the right choice. He thinks I’m so special I actually deserve a $4,000 guitar. I could probably run away tonight and Caleb would tell me I made the right choice. Of course, if I ran away tonight I’d probably end up spending the night with Caleb at the apartment he shares with his twenty-three-year-old roommate. So that’s a bit obvious.

“Is your dad supposed to be home right now?” Amy asks as I reach for the doorknob.

“No, he probably left work early. It’s a big day for them, too.” Pushing open the front door, I’m a bit surprised to find my dad standing in the foyer, as if he were waiting for me. “Hey, Dad.”

He clears his throat and smiles. “I know I wished you a happy birthday this morning, but I’m going to do it again.” He extends his right hand forward and I see the gold key lying flat in his palm. “Happy birthday, sweetheart. This is yours now.”

I draw in a few deep breaths, then I reach forward and take the key from his hand. I curl my fist around the sharp metal, squeezing as it digs into the soft flesh of my palm. Looking up into my father’s blue eyes, the barely disguised grimace crinkling the skin around the corners, I tuck the key into the front pocket of my jeans.

“I’m not going today,” I say, smiling so he doesn’t think this was a difficult decision to make. “I don’t know if I ever will, but thank you for trusting me to make the decision on my own. I love you, Dad.”

I wrap my arms around his thick waist and he squeezes my shoulders so tight it hurts. “I’ve always trusted you, sweetheart. I know you’ll make the right decision for you.”

“What’s going on?”

My mom’s voice is soft and laced with worry, but it still grates on my nerves. I love my mom, but her inability to trust that I would make the right decision has broken something between us. I don’t know if I’ll ever hear her speak and hear the same voice that sang me to sleep every night until I was eight years old.

“I’m not going,” I say, letting go of my dad.

Her eyebrows knit together, but there’s a spark of hope in her eyes and a slight curl to her lips. “Why not?”

I blink a few times to hold back the tears. “Because I’m afraid of hurting you.”

“What? That’s silly.”

“No, it’s not. I can see how much you want me to leave that part of me in the past. Even if you don’t say it, I can see it in your eyes.”

“I’m sorry, Abby. I just—”

“No, you don’t have to explain, Mom. I understand.” I sniff loudly as I wipe the tears from my face. “You don’t want to lose me. And I’m lucky to have you. I know that… I don’t want to lose you either.”

She shakes her head and takes my face in her hands. “Oh, honey. You’re not going to lose me. You’ll never lose me.” She kisses my forehead and tucks my hair behind my ear. “Yes, I’m afraid of what this will do to our family going forward, but it’s natural. We fought so hard for you, Abby. I just want to protect you. I want to protect this family.”

“From what?”

She presses her lips together as she considers this question. “I don’t know. But please don’t let my fear influence you. This is your decision, honey. Your father and I will support you no matter what you choose to do.”

I nod and she takes me into her arms. I allow myself to cry on her shoulder for a moment, before I excuse myself to my bedroom with Caleb and Amy. Closing the door behind us, I immediately take a seat on my bed while Amy sits at my desk and Caleb sits next to me.

“She’s hiding something from me,” I say as Caleb grabs my hand.

“Our parents probably hide more things from us than we do from them,” Amy replies, opening up my laptop. “Do you want me to respond to all your birthday greetings on Facebook?”

“Yes, please.”

“Not the ones from guys,” Caleb adds, and I shove him. “Are you sure you don’t want to see what’s inside that box?”

I nod quickly. “I’m not ready. I’m actually glad my mom made me wait. I don’t know if I’ll ever be ready to face the people who gave me away.”

“What if they had no choice?” Amy says.

“No choice? In what kind of world would they have
no
choice? Of course they had a choice. Maybe it was a difficult one, but it was still the choice they made. Why do I even want to meet someone who didn’t want me? My parents want me. They’ve always wanted me and now I’m going to risk hurting them just to satisfy my curiosity? It doesn’t make sense.”

“You’ll know when you’re ready,” Amy says, an automatic response as she scrolls through my Facebook profile and responds to hundreds of birthday wishes.

“That’s bullshit.”

I look up at Caleb and he’s staring straight at me. “What?”

“That’s bullshit,” he repeats. “You’re not going to hurt your parents. And you know that.”

I try to let go of his hand, but he tightens his grip. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I know better than you do. I had a mother who didn’t want me.
Really
didn’t want me. But you… you don’t know what your birth parents felt about you and I think that’s what scares you the most. Not knowing.”

The soft tapping of Amy’s fingers on the keyboard of my laptop stops. I bite my lip as I try to deny that what Caleb just said is true, but I can’t. He’s right. I’m not afraid of hurting my parents. I’m afraid of hurting me.

CHAPTER NINE

Two months after

I
KNOW
THAT
, technically, I’m doing nothing wrong. I’m an adult. I have the right to decide where I want to spend the night. But lying to my parents always makes me anxious. Still, I don’t think it’s the lie that’s got me so worked up. I’m afraid to spend the night with Caleb.

I shouldn’t be afraid of spending the night with him. We’re not going to have sex. At least, I don’t think we are.

“So Amy is going to keep her ringer on all night in case they call, right?” Caleb asks as we drive toward the apartment he shares with his roommate, Greg Lawson.

I’ve hung out with Greg plenty of times and he’s agreed to spend the night at his girlfriend’s house to give us some privacy. But I can’t help but feel weird about this whole thing. Even knowing that this will be our apartment soon.

Greg graduated from UNC Chapel Hill two years ago. He was the only person Caleb found who was willing to take a chance on a seventeen-year-old roommate after Caleb’s dad died last year. Caleb absolutely did not want to get placed in foster care at his age. He asked for more hours at the tire shop where he works to bring in some more cash, and he’s been living with Greg ever since. Until Greg gets married and moves out in July. Then, Caleb and I have agreed we’ll take over the lease. 

Caleb and I are going to live together.

It feels surreal as he turns left off Stanhope, into College Crest. College Crest is a neighborhood just east of NC State and Meredith College, mostly inhabited by college-age residents. Greg took over the lease on this apartment when his friend from NC State moved to Seattle after graduation. Two years on, and now Caleb and I will be assuming the lease. It’s hard to find a vacant apartment in College Crest.

“Yes, Amy is going to keep her phone on and she’s going to answer,” I reply, sliding my right hand between the seat and the passenger door to hide it as I wiggle my fingers. I run the fingers of my left hand through my hair to disguise the same action. I don’t want Caleb to know how terrified I am right now.

He reaches across and grabs my hand out of my hair as he turns into the parking lot on Stanhope. “Are you panicking?”

He rubs his thumb over the top of my hand and I close my eyes as I draw in a large breath. 

“A little.”

He pulls his car into an empty space near the back of the lot, but he doesn’t turn off the engine. “We don’t have to do this. I’ll take you home right now and you can decide what you want to do later… Or now. You can tell me right now if you don’t want to live here. I’ll find another roommate… Or I’ll give you this apartment and find another place.”

“Caleb, stop. We’ve discussed this. I’m not taking this apartment without you, and I’m not going to try to find another roommate. No one else will understand me the way you do.” I look down at his hand in mine and smile. “I’m going to live with you. Nothing else makes sense.” I look up and he’s not smiling. “But that doesn’t mean I’m not really nervous about tonight.”