Dear Tabitha (18 page)

“Today has been overwhelming enough. I’ll call her tomorrow morning, okay?”

I won’t sleep a wink tonight. Her words sink in, and help me realize the whole situation. I don’t know what lies ahead with Sara. But I do know Kirsten’s words are true.

I’m free.

Free of fear.

Free of lies.

But can I be free to hope?

Present

Age 24

A
S THE
wind picks up in the cemetery, shivers run down my spine. I place a pink rose on the headstone and run my fingers along the cool marble still damp with the morning dew.

Marlene Treadway

Our Angel

June 6, 1950 – November 20, 1994

I wish she were here with me right now. Would she know what to do? Could she help guide me through this?

“Hi, Mom,” I whisper into the cool air. “I’m sorry I haven’t visited in a while, but I just got back to town.” I trace her name with my fingertip. My chest tightens as I picture her icy blue eyes that used to be so full of life. “The band is doing great and we just finished a two and a half year tour.”

Why am I making small talk? I need to get to the point. I gather my thoughts for a few moments, and then try to speak the words that I need her to hear.

“I found out yesterday that I may have a child. A little girl. Her name is Emily.” I picture the beautiful little girl that might be my daughter. “You’re a grandmother,” I say softly. “I mean, you
could
be a grandmother.”

Silence.

“Tabby gave birth two years ago and put her up for adoption.” I try to suppress a sob. “I didn’t know, Mom. I didn’t know.” I let my tears fall freely. “She didn’t tell me. She didn’t want me to know.” My shoulders shake as I cry harder than I have in years. The last time I remember crying like this was at Mom’s funeral when I was just a kid. “She didn’t try to track me down. I just don’t understand.”

More silence.

“Mom, what should I do? How do I deal with this?” I dry my face with my shirt, and picture my beautiful mother sitting next to me on the bench, her arms around me, whispering in my ear that everything is going to be okay. I imagine her fingers in my hair, massaging my scalp like she would do to soothe me to sleep.

“Do you think I could have been a good father? Or am I destined to be like
him
?” I need her to tell me that I would never be like Pops, but her answer isn’t coming.

“I didn’t even get to say goodbye.” This realization hits me the hardest and more tears slide down my cheeks.

“I wish she would have told me. Tried to help me understand why. I would have done anything to support her. God, I loved her!” I still love her. I never stopped. “Is it wrong to still love her? After everything she’s done to push me away?” I just need to hear my mother’s voice. I need answers.

Silence.

“Mom, please. What should I do?” I beg, knowing I won’t get an answer.

I lay down on the bench and close my eyes, picturing Emily and her cute little smile. She has Tabby’s smile. Did Tabby know what was best for her? For all of us? Maybe she knew me better than I knew myself. She knew the type of man I was back then, and she knew I was in no place to be a father. Hell, I may not ever be fit to be one.

“Should I trust that she made the right decision for all of us? Maybe she was afraid to tell me, Mom. Was she afraid of what I may do? Did she think I’d try to fight for my daughter? If she
is
my daughter.” I hope that Seth isn’t Emily’s father.

“I wouldn’t have done anything to stop the adoption. Mom, Emily looks so incredibly happy with her family, the Finnegans. They belong together.” I shake my head at the irony of my emotions. I’m actually
happy
that Tabby chose well. She chose the perfect family for Emily, and it was the right thing to do. For her and for me. And for Seth. I cringe as I picture that asshole with her.

“Do you think Seth said goodbye to Emily?” I clench my fists at my sides. Shit. I wonder if he was there when Emily was born. I fume thinking about the time he spent with Tabitha. Jealous of the love he showed her while I was away. Dammit, she was mine. She was meant to be mine forever.

“I’m sorry, Mom. I’m all over the place. I just…” I look toward her grave. “I just wasn’t prepared for the feelings that rushed back when I saw Tabby again. And now, I don’t know how to deal with this loss that I feel over a child I’ll never know.” I look toward the sky. “Please, tell me what to do. Please, Mom.” I beg, but there’s still no response. She’s not going to give me any answers because she’s gone. My angel is gone forever.

How am I going to cope with this? I could call my sister, but I know that she has her own problems, and I don’t want to be a burden on her. I can’t imagine how she would even react to find out that she might have a niece that she will never know. No, I’ll tell Reagan another time.

Somehow, I need to deal with this on my own.

I sit up and look at my mother’s final resting place. I stand up and approach her headstone.

Our Angel.

“I wish you were here to tell me what I should do. How I should feel. How do I move on from this, Mom? Would you forgive Tabby? Should I? God, I still love her so much and I’m really trying to understand why she made the decision that she did.”

I’m desperate for guidance. Desperate for answers. As I touch her headstone, a soft, warm breeze comes from nowhere. It blows my hair to the side and it almost feels like my mother’s fingertips brushing against my scalp. I exhale slowly, close my eyes and let the warm air envelope me.

“Mom,” I whisper. The warmth comforts me and I almost feel at peace. I see Tabby’s face behind my closed eyes. She looks scared and alone. I know what I have to do. I need to hear her out. Understand why.

“I miss you so much, Mom. I wish you were here to make everything better. See you soon. I love you.”

I walk out of the cemetery knowing that I have to find Tabby. I need answers and she’s the only one that can give them to me.

She’s probably at work by now, so I head to the bookstore. I run through the thoughts and questions in my head to prepare myself for more answers. I have so many freaking questions! I want to know about her pregnancy and Emily’s birth. I want to know about her father, Kyle, and what he’s like. What’s Carly like? Has Tabby seen them since? What type of adoption do they have? Can I meet them? Can I meet Emily?

I don’t want to scare her with my questions, or worry her that I’m going to do something crazy. Because I’m not. I won’t try to disrupt the only family that Emily knows. I just need to know these things for my own piece of mind. She owes me that much, right?

I visualize my mother’s calming eyes and take a deep breath. I need to approach this conversation with a positive attitude. I know one thing for sure, I still love Tabby. I just
need
to understand.

When I reach the bookstore, I peer in through the window. Kirsten sits on the couch next to Tabby who is clutching a crumpled letter and shaking her head. She’s clearly upset and agitated. Kirsten rubs her back in soothing circles. She hands the phone to Tabitha, but Tabs shakes her head and pushes Kirsten’s hand away. What’s going on? She must be encouraging her to call me, and Tabitha is refusing. Well, I’m here, so no need to pick up the phone.

I open the door, which causes the chimes to ring. Startled, they both look up.

“Alex. This is not a good time,” Kirsten says looking at me with concern

Wait. Now I’m confused. I could swear she was just encouraging Tabs to call me. What is going on here? I get agitated and blast some attitude her way. “I’m sorry, but I just found out that I may or may not have a daughter who Tabby gave up for adoption. When would be a better time for me to get some questions answered?”

Tabby turns toward me. “Alex, I’m sorry, but I’m dealing with something else right now. Can we talk later?”

“Not really. I want to get some answers now.” I don’t back down or give in. I’m determined to find out more. I need to know.

“I just can’t. I have to make an important phone call. Please, just give me a little while. Can you call me or come by later?” She grabs the phone from Kirsten and walks into the back office.

I look at Kirsten. “What the hell? What is that all about?”

She furrows her brows looking into my eyes. “Are you okay?” she asks and I realize that I may still have tears in my eyes from my conversation with Mom. She pauses and reaches for my hand.

I shrug and rub my eyes quickly. “I’m fine.”

“Okay, just checking,” she says quietly. “Listen, it’s best if she tells you what’s going on. It’s not my place. I’ll just say that she found out some news today that is shocking, to say the least. If she’s up to it, hear her out later. Just please, give her some space right now. That phone call is probably one of the most important calls that she will ever make.”

Really? I turn without saying a word and stalk out. The most important phone call she will ever make? What the fuck? That should have been made to me a few years ago when she found out she was pregnant. She should have stalked me until I knew. How can
this
phone call be more important than that? God, I’m so stupid. I can’t believe I let her blow me off. Today, I’m getting the answers that I need. And then I’m done. Again.

Motherfuck.

Past

Age 19

I
T’S BEEN
a few weeks since I embarrassed myself in front of Alex and the members of Epic Fail. The first time that Alex kissed me in the back room of the bar, I had a panic attack and passed out cold. Since that happened, we promised each other that we’d start out slow, take our relationship one step at a time. But our pull toward each other is magnetic. Whenever I’m around him, I want him to devour me. He’s been incredibly tender and tries not to trigger my panic episodes. I picture his arms around me. His warm lips on my neck. His body pressed against mine. He affects me in ways that I’ve never felt before. I feel it in my bones. I need him, and I can’t admit that to him or anyone.