“Morning, Addison.” His voice was casual. He was becoming more comfortable with his position and with her.
“Good morning,” she replied as she looked up. Perhaps for the first time, she realized how good looking he was. Not in a sexual way – he was fourteen years her junior and she was not about to venture down that road. But, he’d evolved in the short time she’d known him. As his confidence grew, his appearance transformed from boyish to manly. She smiled and nodded as he left.
Her e-mail inbox contained the usual cluttered morning mess. She sipped the latte and relaxed into her chair as she clicked through message after message, methodically and efficiently delegating or deleting each one. Suddenly she froze. She looked twice at the “From” line in the next message. KWOODS. Unexpectedly, she was on the verge of tears. Her memory files from years ago resurfaced. Katherine Woods. She had written it down when she was looking for her mother as a teen. A name she found herself never able to forget.
No, no, no
. How could she have found her? How dare she contact her? Addison’s memory flashed back to when she had seen her, a loving mother with two kids toddling around the front yard. She had been written out of their family. Hadn’t she just talked to the intermediary and indicated she definitely would not permit it? She did not want to be contacted!
No, no, no!
She pounded her fist on the desk causing her coffee to splatter. “Shit,” she said, rubbing the sting away. She wanted to scream, but instead she gritted her teeth in frustration. Despite her initial anger and anxiety she felt compelled to open the message. Apprehensively, she scrolled the mouse over the message and clicked.
Dear Ms. Reynolds,
I know you must receive hundreds of unsolicited e-mails. This might sound crazy, but I have reason to believe we may be related. I wouldn’t attempt to contact you, but this is an emergency. Please don’t delete without responding.
Thank you,
Karsen Woods
Addison reread the name. Karsen. Not Katherine. Maybe it was a mistake. Maybe Karsen was just some crazy stalker who was looking for money. Maybe her last name was a weird coincidence. Karsen. Katherine. The names were too alike. In her heart, Addison knew. She knew from the day she’d gone to their home that she had a sister. What kind of emergency warranted contacting a sister you never met? Addison groaned and covered her eyes with her hands. “Urgh!” She grimaced, conflicted about what to do. They couldn’t just expect her to welcome them with open arms…could they?
“I’m sorry,” she said aloud, as she slid her pinkie across the button. DELETE.
Hanna walked into chemistry lab and was relieved to see Karsen at their station.
“Hey, K. Anything new?” Hanna asked. She looked at Karsen hopefully. She had crossed her fingers and said her prayers hoping to hear something finally was going her friend’s way.
“No,” Karsen responded. With Hanna’s notes and a bit of leniency from her professors, she managed to at least maintain passing grades but the prospect of producing her usual stellar GPA was looking grim. “I tried to e-mail Addison, but I didn’t get a response.”
Karsen opened her notebook, the tear sheet from the magazine was taped to the inside cover. “I know it’s her. She even looks like us.”
“What if it was a shock to her? Maybe she didn’t know she was adopted,” Hanna reasoned noticing the similarities in the photo.
“Maybe? I don’t know.”
“Did you try calling? The e-mail could’ve been blocked by the spam filter, or maybe she has an assistant filter her account and they just think you’re some whacko.”
“I don’t have a number.”
“Oh, gimme a break. When has that stopped you before? You found the e-mail.”
“I don’t know, Han. I’m just too tired. She obviously doesn’t want to be contacted. I’ll just reschedule my appointment. This is all just prolonging the inevitable anyway.”
“Call the magazine. She owns that damn thing. I bet someone there knows who she is. You CAN’T give up now, Karsen,” Hanna urged her.
Following class, Karsen and Hanna found a bench on campus. Karsen dialed the number listed on the editorial contact page. Her heart raced as she waited with Hanna standing supportively by her side.
“
Urbane
magazine. How may I direct your call?”
“Yes, ma’am. I’m trying to reach Addison Reynolds,” Karsen said, trying to sound as sophisticated as possible.
“One moment, please.”
Her heart continued to pound as she listened momentarily to music on hold as her call was put through.
“Hello, thank you for calling
Urbane
. This is Marjorie.” Her routine answer sounded rushed as if twenty calls arrived at once and she had only a moment to attend to each, which wasn’t much of an exaggeration.
“Yes, um…may I speak to Addison Reynolds, please?”
“Who’s calling, please?”
“Karsen Woods.”
“Is she expecting your call?”
“Yes,” Karsen lied with confidence.
“One moment, please.” Marjorie punched the hold button and clicked Addison’s line to announce the call. Another call beeped in simultaneously on line two, so she hit transfer, putting Karsen through before Addison knew who it was.
“This is Addison.”
Karsen froze.
“Hi. Yes, this is Karsen Woods,” she said hesitantly. “I don’t know if you received my e-mail…”
Furious at being caught off guard, Addison cut her off.
“Ms. Woods, I’m not sure who you think I am, but I’m certain I’m not that person. I wish you the best, but I have to go now.”
“But, wait. Please give me a moment to explain...”
“I’m sorry. Now, I…”
“Please!” Karsen pleaded.
“I’m sorry, but I can’t help you.”
“But… you don’t know that. You have a choice and you’re choosing not to listen. Choices are made every day. Some bear no consequence. Others have life-altering results. I should know. My mother made a choice. She kept a secret. Her intentions were pure. With every beat of my heart, I believe she thought keeping her secret was in everyone’s best interest. She thought the secret would be buried with her, never to be revealed. She thought wrong.”
“Unless I’m mistaken, you’re breaking the law by contacting me.”
Karsen gasped with relief.
“It is you!”
Addison said hurriedly, “Please don’t call again,” and abruptly hung up. Tears flooded her eyes. Her intention certainly was not to hurt anyone. She simply wanted to be left alone.
Karsen’s heart and mind raced. She couldn’t understand why her sister would push her away. Wasn’t she at all curious about her? About their mother? Didn’t she care at all? Was Addison really that cold? Karsen was simply a bystander. It was her mother that chose adoption. Not her.
“What did she say?” pressed Hanna.
“She said I was breaking the law. She said I was breaking the law by contacting her. She knew. Hanna, it’s her. Addison Reynolds is my sister.”
“Holy Shit, Karsen!” Hanna said excitedly. “What are you going to do?”
“I’m going to meet her.”
Emily arrived at Addison’s office and smiled at Marjorie who waved her on without hesitation. Emily knocked gently before opening Addison’s closed office door. She peered in through the crack before entering. “Who was that?” Emily asked, witnessing the end of the one-sided conversation which clearly had upset Addy.
“No one. Just business.”
“She called you, didn’t she?” Emily knew Addison would never handle a business call in that manner. She’d only seen Addison cry a handful of times and never over business.
“Who?”
“Your biological mother.”
“No, not my mother.”
“Then who, Addy?”
“Karsen, my sister,” Addison said. She didn’t care what Emily knew anymore. She was tired. Tired of feeling abandoned. Tired of hiding the truth.
“You have a sister?”
“Apparently, yes.”
“Any other Jerry Springer news I should know about?”
“I have a brother, too.”
“And you’ve known this?”
“Yes.”
“For how long?”
“Since I was fourteen. I basically ran away from boarding school to try to find my biological mother, except when I got there she looked like her family was complete. So I turned around and went home.”
“You aren’t even curious about them?”
“Why should I be? I was the one discarded, remember?”
“Aren’t you even interested in finding out why?”
Addison shook her head. She grabbed a tissue to dry her eyes.
Emily thought about what she would do if she were in her friend’s position. A part of her understood Addison’s hesitation, but she’d rather know the truth. And to get to the truth meant speaking to the source.
“Addy, maybe you’re being too harsh,” Emily said tentatively.
“Harsh? She gave me away, Em. I made peace with it a long time ago. I know I may look like an ice queen, but what do they think? That we’ll meet and hug and live happily ever after? It’s been thirty-nine years.”
“Wow, you’re almost forty,” Emily poked.
“Shut up.”
“What if you got pregnant as a teenager, Addy? What would you have done?”