Unwanted Stars (26 page)

"She said that I was her daughter. That she's...that she's my birth mother."

"That's ridiculous," Jason said.

"Do you remember when I was born?" I asked, hopeful that Jason held the memories I needed to squash this ridiculous fantasy cooked up by a wacky Harrods’ employee.

"No," he said, his voice apprehensive. "I was like three when you were born. I don't remember anything before you. What about Maya?"

"No way. I can't trust her. Not with this. She hates me."

"No she doesn't," he said, but I ignored him.

"Whatever. Just...please find the picture, okay?"

"I will, I promise," he said, his voice calm and sensitive.

"Thanks."

"It's gonna be okay."

"Yeah I know," I said. My words were completely disingenuous. Something you say to make the
other
person feel better, knowing they were just trying to help. I didn't want Jason to worry. I didn't want this horrible woman to mess with my family. It was one thing for her to try to trick me, but to involve my family? Unforgivable.

After hanging up with Jason, I felt restless and not at all sure what to do. The voice of reason inside my head (it might be extremely quiet most of the time, but it's there) told me to call Campbell. To beg him to come back. To ask him to help me sort things through. But the truth was, I couldn't do it. I couldn't let him see me like that. I was mortified, I was confused, and for the first time in my life, I was completely and utterly frightened.

I wished I'd never walked into that store, that I'd brought enough makeup to last the year. That Nan had never showered me with Clinique makeup when I was twelve. None of this would be happening, and I wouldn't be sitting on the cold wood floor of my apartment, tracing her features in my head. Remembering her curly hair, her long eyelashes, her full lips...lips that looked so much like my own.

What if she was telling the truth?

Then that would mean only one thing: my entire life had been nothing but a lie.

I didn't sleep at all last night. Instead, I sat on my couch, searching my brain for answers, searching my gut for a feeling. Hoping for the phone to ring. But it didn't. Which meant only one thing. Jason had looked for the photo and came up empty-handed. He had no idea how to tell me and decided to sleep on it. I knew my brother very well. I knew bad news was coming my way today. My hands wouldn’t stop shaking as I stared at the phone on my kitchen counter. I knew who I should call. I knew who had the answers, but I was just too scared to do it. I was too scared to think there was a reason why I never quite fit into the puzzle that was the Kelly family. My piece was different—it belonged in a different puzzle.
It didn't fit. I'd never fit. And now I knew why.

It's funny how staying awake all night and searching for memories within your brain made you start to accept what only hours ago seemed unfathomable. You started to accept ideas that were impossible to process when first delivered.

Deep within myself, I knew it to be true. I just did.

But why?

So many questions, it was ridiculous, but they all started with that word:
why.

Why did she give me away?

Why did my parents agree to raise me?

Why did they keep that from me? From Jason?

Why did she suddenly reappear in my life?

When Campbell returned last night, I didn't answer the door. He knocked, waited a few minutes, and knocked again. I sat on the couch, tears streaming down my face, staring at the door, my stubborn feet glued to the couch. When the silence became deafening, I knew he'd left for good. Maybe I'd lose him, maybe I wouldn't. I was too numb to care.

How could he possibly understand what a mess my life was? He was a thirty-two-year-old, successful doctor from an incredibly close and
functional
family. A family that welcomed me with open arms just a few short weeks ago. But if they really knew who I was, where I actually came from (that's assuming I ever found out myself), would that still be the case? Campbell deserved better. He deserved better than an orphan. And that's what I was. That's how I felt. And the numbness wasn't leaving me. Maybe it never would.

When the clock struck eleven, I forced myself to leave the comforting confines I'd created from the couch cushions. Like a zombie, I walked to the shower, bathed, dressed myself, and brushed my teeth. After brewing a cup of tea, I sat back down on the couch, which was quickly becoming my own little fortress of solitude. I felt safe on it, like it would actually protect me as I stared at the clock above my refrigerator. Watching it, studying it, begging for it to bring me peace. But it didn't.

Blowing on my tea, I heard the noise of something sliding along the floor. It startled me at first, and my eyes darted to the door. A simple matchbook was all that I saw, and my heart fluttered. Picking it up, I instinctively opened the cardboard and read his note.

Still
here? He never left? Overcome with emotion, I opened the door to see a disheveled Campbell sitting against the wall of the stark hallway, shoulders slumped, cell phone in hand, same clothes he'd worn the day before.

"Did...did you stay here all night?" I asked, tears of bewilderment streaming down my cheeks.

"Yeah," he said, climbing to his feet, stretching out his torso. "I couldn't leave you."

"Oh my god, that has to be..." My words failed me. I stared at him with appreciation in my eyes.

"What?"

"The nicest thing anyone has done for me. Ever."

"It was nothing." He shrugged.

"You slept in a hallway...for me," I whispered, completely overwhelmed by the gesture.

"And I'd do it again," he said, brushing my cheek with his thumb.

"Ugh, I'm awful, aren't I? Throwing you out like that."

"No," he said, smoothing my hair, his eyes sullen. "Just upset, overwhelmed. And I pushed too hard, too soon."

"No, you didn't. I...I'm mortified. You deserve better."

"Better than what? Than
you
?"

I nodded.

"Never," he said. "What happened yesterday...it was surreal. You did the best you could. Honestly."

"I know, but—"

"No...I'm not going to judge you. Not about this," he said, cupping my cheeks with his hands. "What she told you, and the possibility of it being true, I can't even begin to imagine."

"Thank you for trying to understand," I said, giving him a small peck on the lips before taking his hand in mine. "Now come inside. You need a shower and something to eat. You must be exhausted."

"I'll be fine," he said, closing the door behind us. "Did you sleep? Your lights never went out."

"I couldn't turn my brain off," I said with a shake of my head.

"Makes sense."

We walked, hand in hand, into my tiny kitchen. I brewed a pot of coffee and placed some bread in the toaster. Campbell retrieved mugs and plates from the cabinet and set our places at the breakfast nook.

We picked at our food in silence. Campbell ate his entire breakfast with just one hand. His other hand was placed comfortably on my thigh like he couldn't let go.
How did I get so lucky to find this wonderful man?

Just as the last of the crumbs were scraped from my plate, the phone rang. Campbell and I locked eyes before I glanced at the caller ID.

"It's my brother. He might know something."

"Do you want some space?"

"No, please don't. I need you here."

He nodded as I put the receiver to my ear.

"Hey," Jason said. "How are you today?"

"I don't know. I'm kind of a zombie."

"Well, I, um...I did what you asked. I looked and looked. Three different boxes of photos, five different photo albums..." He hesitated.

"Just say it."

"
I'm sorry, Aud. I couldn't find anything. Not a thing."

My eyes closed tight and I nodded. "Okay."

"I found dozens of her pregnant with Maya, even more of her when she was carrying me. But you...nothing. The first photo I could find is from when you were a baby."

"Where was it taken?"

"London. It's in Nan and Granddad's sitting room. You're tiny. Like, really tiny."

"I know the picture," I said, remembering the photo of my parents holding me on Nan's rigid couch. My father's arms were wrapped around my mom and me, her smiling down at me. The tiniest of babies, wrapped in a pink cotton blanket. It was one of my favorites. And I'd always assumed it was the first time they'd taken me to meet my grandparents.

Apparently not.

"Mom wrote on the back. It just says, 'Auden, three weeks.' Nothing else. I just... I have no idea what to say, sis."

"Thanks," I said, feeling myself go numb again. "Does mom suspect anything?"

"No, I told her I was working on something for Marty. Needed to see baby pictures. She didn't bat an eye."

"Good."

"You'll have to talk to her eventually..."

"Not yet. I can't."

We sat in silence for several moments.

"Tell me about her—the woman."

"I don't know much," I said with a shrug. "Her name is Tabitha and she works at the makeup counter at Harrods."

"Does she...does she resemble you?"

"Yeah. Similar features, same hair."

"I just...I can't even believe this. None of this makes sense. Why didn't they tell you? Why didn't they tell
me
?" I could hear the betrayal in his voice. I could hear it in the way his voice cracked, in the way it deepened in anger.

"I have no idea. And I'm sorry to drag you into this."

"No, don't be. We'll figure this out. We'll fix it."

"Some things can't be fixed," I said.

"Don't talk like that. We're a family."

"Maybe...then again, maybe not."

"You're my sister, brat. Nothing can change that. And nothing will."

"You say that now, but,who knows how you'll feel a month from now, a year from now. Anything can happen."

"Only if we let it. And I'm sure as hell not going to."

"Thanks. I, uh, I'd better lie down. Haven't slept yet. And I have another tour starting in a few days. But I'll see you in July for your big day."