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I pulled up my shoulders. “I guess not. I know that Zoe was adopted, too. But she went on a search for our birth parents. I’m worried that I’ll have to meet them now because she found them.”
“Are you not ready for that?”
“I don’t know if you are,” I admitted, finally saying what was really bugging me.
Mom shook her head. “Honey, don’t let that hold you back. I’m so happy that you’re thinking of me, but no matter who you meet, I will always be your mom. I adopted you and watched you grow into a beautiful woman. And I will always have you. I’ve had you for all these years, which they didn’t.”
It was true. Just because I knew who my birth parents were didn’t mean I would stop seeing my mom and dad, stop visiting, stop having a lifetime of memories with them.
“Don’t let your worries about how I feel stop you from doing what you really want.”
“I don’t want you to think you’re less important.”
“I never will,” she said. “I was privileged to raise you. I was blessed to have you. None of that will change. I am happy, and what will make me even happier is if you follow your heart.”
The moment my mom said “follow your heart” I thought of Brent. Where had that come from? I shook off the thought.
“Thanks, Mom,” I said. I finally felt better about it.
She smiled at me and nodded, and we carried on gardening as if nothing had happened. We caught up, sharing our lives together as we weeded the garden and pruned some of the bushes.
When it was finally time to leave, my heart was light and I was in the best mood. I walked into the living room to say goodbye to my dad. He had fallen asleep the way he always did, his head hanging to the side and his mouth open, and he was snoring lightly.
I shook his shoulder to wake him up.
“I’m on my way,” I said when my dad jerked awake.
“Of course,” he said. “I was just resting my eyes.”
My mom and I both laughed. My dad had been doing this for as long as I could remember. I hugged him, and my heart burst with love for these two people who had given me a life.
Outside, my mom hugged me.
“Do what you need to do, honey. I just want to ask one thing.”
“What?” I asked.
“Keep me in the loop. Tell me what’s going on. Don’t bottle it up.”
I nodded. “I will,” I promised.
I climbed into my car and headed back home. When I arrived home, I sat down in front of my home computer. I took out the letter Morgan Taylor had sent my mom again. So much had happened since I’d received it. There was so much to wrap my mind around. But maybe this was the right step, after all.
Instead of emailing Morgan like before, I dialed the cell number on the business card she’d given me. This time, I wanted to speak to her in person. I needed to hear if she was relieved about finding out I wanted to meet Zoe or if she was skeptical. I didn’t know how it would make a difference; Morgan’s opinion in the matter hardly counted. But I was nervous to take the next step.
The phone rang a few times before Morgan picked up.
“Morgan, it’s Rena. I’m sorry I’m phoning on a Sunday.”
“It’s not a problem, Rena. How can I help you?”
I took a deep breath. “I would like to meet Zoe. Will you be able to set it up for me?”
“Of course. I’ll contact Zoe in the morning, and we’ll get the ball rolling on this.” She sounded like she was smiling, and I pictured her face again. She had seemed very soft-natured and kind when I had met her. She didn’t seem aggressive or invasive the way I’d always pictured private investigators. So much for stereotypes. “I’ll let you know what Zoe says, and we can set up the meeting.”
“Thank you,” I said.
“Zoe will be so excited to hear that you want to meet her. She’s been looking forward to it for a long time.”
I thanked Morgan again, and we ended the call.
My sister was excited to meet me. It was good to know that she was so positive about it, but I wasn’t sure I felt the same. I hadn’t had as much time as Zoe to process everything, and I felt that maybe she had an advantage. She’d made the choice to find out about me and to contact me; this had been thrown at me out of nowhere.
