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I smiled. “That would mean the world to me. I’ve always wanted to see it.”
We talked casually for a few minutes as we ate, but things had begun to weigh on me. I had so many questions, and I got the feeling he did, too. This was nice, but I wanted to know more.
“Can I ask you a question? It’s a little heavy,” I said.
He’d just finished his food and took a drink from his water bottle. After nodding, he said, “Of course. I’m sure you have lots. I do, too, but I wasn’t sure if now was the time.”
I paused and played with the hem of my skirt. “What was my biological mother like?”
“Hmm.” He thought for a moment, staring at a large puffy cloud as it passed by overhead. “She was smart. Beautiful. You looksomuch like her. You have her eyes actually. Her name was Anna. I fell in love with her the moment I met her in college. She had long, jet-black hair, tan skin, and she was strong. Anna had a personality that could build you up or tear you to pieces. She was fierce.”
He didn’t look at me once while talking about her. It was like he was off in his own world. It seemed like he missed her. “You must have loved her very much,” I said.
His eyes finally met mine, and they almost looked shiny. “I did. I do. I always will.”
“What happened to her? Is that inappropriate to ask?”
He huffed lightly and shook his head. “That’s your biological mother. It’s as much your history as it is mine.”
Every time he mentioned my adoptive parents, he almost always called them my “parents,” and when he spoke of himself or my birth mother, he almost always said “biological.” It was probably just a little thing to him, and maybe even one that hurt him to differentiate between, but it meant something to me. It showed how much he tried to respect the bond I had with them. He hadn’t tried to undermine it or belittle it.
With a sad sigh, he continued. “We went out to a dinner one night. It was some charity event; one I wish we’d never stepped foot in. It was dull until some psycho snuck in. We thought he was there to voice some grievances at first. No better place than an event full of politicians, right? But it became very clear he wasn’t there for peace. Your mother stood up to him and told him to leave. She told him he’d regret it if he tried to hurt anyone there. He said something to the effect of, ‘I’ll be back for you later.’ He had no weapons, so he couldn’t be arrested. Not really.”
“Seriously?” I said. “He threatened you guys. I don’t know what your title was back then, but that seems illegal enough.”
He shrugged. “He would have been held overnight, but a lawyer would have had him out first thing in the morning. Without any evidence that there was a greater threat, there wasn’t much that could be done. So, I called in more security for the event and for our address, and we went home. We had security outside our house and a security system, so we felt safe nothing would happen. I went to take a shower, and your mother went down to the kitchen to make herself something to eat. Shehatedeating at those events. She said the food tasted like ass.”
A smile spread across his face at the memory, but I had a feeling that things were about to get darker.
Inhaling deep, he said, “After my shower, I went downstairs to find her, but she wasn’t there. All I found was a blood-soaked knife and smears of blood all the way to the back door. To be honest, we have no idea what happened after that. All we know is that we found a burnt van with your mother’s body inside,” he paused, swallowing hard. “She’d been burned so badly she couldn’t be identified. However, the coroner said there were deep grooves on the hip bones. Someone had made cuts there, and it was obvious the woman had been pregnant because of the pelvic bones. However, no evidence of fetal bones were present, meaning the baby didn’t die with her. She would have been close to full term, same as your mother. He managed to get a couple bone samples that weren’t too destroyed and identified her through DNA. He said in his expert opinion, he believed you’d been cut out of her.”
What ahorribleway to die. What ahorribleway to lose someone. “Was… Was she alive when they cut me out of her?”
His mouth opened and then closed for a moment before responding. “Alive.” I couldn’t help my sharp intake of breath. “He… he thought she was still alive. If they’d killed her first, they would have risked depriving you of oxygen, and it was obvious they wanted you alive. So… cutting you out first made a lot more sense.”
“I’m so sorry,” I said, reaching over to squeeze his hand.
When he looked into my eyes, tears glittered in his. A sad smile crossed his lips as he squeezed my hand back. “You might not remember it, but you lost her, too. I’m sorry for you, too. Your whole life changed that day.”
I nodded. Several quiet moments passed as we both sat, thinking about what he’d said. Finally, I shook off the sadness and forced a smile at him. “I think that’s enough for today. We’ll have lots of time to talk about the past. Let’s talk about something lighter.”
“I’d like that,” he said.
We discussed some of our favorite hobbies, movies, music, and more. We didn’t have a lot in common, but we both liked comedy movies, which was awesome. He really liked superhero movies, too, so we thought it would be fun to have a Marvel marathon or something. That seemed to perk him up.
We talked about my parents more, and I told him my dad taught me how to work on old cars. Rick seemed pretty impressed. He didn’t see that one coming. Of course, most people don’t from an eighteen-year-old girl.
“You rebuilt a 1970 Chevelle?” he asked, his brows furrowed as a large smile grew.
“Oh, yeah. We redid a ’64 Ford Fairlane, too. It was cherry red. Beautiful. I loved that car, but that Chevelle was my favorite. He promised that car to me when I turned twenty-one, but he ended up falling on hard times and had to sell it.”
“Oh, I’m so sorry,” he said. “Tell me all about it. What color was it?”
“It was black with white racing stripes. Looking at me, you’d probably think that would be what I’d want, but I was secretly planning to paint it charcoal grey with black racing stripes. It wasso loud!We had a detached garage, and every time he’d start it and rev the engine, the house windows would rattle. It was awesome.”
We talked for about twenty more minutes before cleaning up, putting our masks back on, and heading back to the house. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d had such a peaceful day. It was the first time in a long time I had hope everything would turn out okay.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
