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2
ROSEMARY
I know I should be listening to what is being said, but I can’t help but stare at the family sitting across the hospital conference table in Seattle.
The woman, I mean, my biological mother has dark auburn hair and the same green eyes as me. She hasn’t spoken a word since I walked in the room and she gasped out loud like she just saw a ghost when she saw me. My biological father took her hand and led her over to the table to sit down. It’s only then when I noticed the young woman who looked my age. The one who was living my life and I was living hers. She was watching me with skeptical eyes. The expression on her face now matching the tone of her voice when I called her the one and only time a few weeks ago.
I don’t know what I was thinking.
After a genetic lab in Spokane confirmed what the DNAPlus results had already told me, I was consumed with trying to find out whose life I was living and what my life should have been. The hospital didn’t want to release the name of the other baby I was switched with, but after a few pestering calls and a fake threat of a lawsuit while talking to the hospital administrator’s assistant, he accidently let slip her name—Hazel Davenport.
“She’s a second-year law student at U-Dub,” I told Chasen in the barn after spending a few hours scouring the internet for any information about her. He was working to muck out one of the stalls when I burst in. “She probably has a trust fund and has never worked a day in her privileged princess life.”
“Rosie,” Chasen chided.
“Oh and I forgot the best part,” I said unable to hide the frustration in my voice. “She was a freaking model!”
I held up my phone to show him her picture. Chasen was quiet when he looked over the image of the beautiful curvy blonde. After a moment, he cleared his throat and returned back to his work without saying a word.
“I have to talk to her.”
“No.” Chasen stopped working. “You can’t do that.”
“Why not? I’m sure I can track down her number.”
“For one, the hospital said that they were going to inform the other family themselves. For another, she’s not going to believe you.”
“I have the test results.”
“Which could easily be faked if someone had ulterior motives. The Davenports are a powerful and influential family in Seattle. He’s running for office. Do you honestly think they are just going to take the word of some stranger from Fatesville, that you are their real daughter?”
Chasen tried to stop me from calling her but I couldn’t help myself. I needed to hear her voice. I needed some sort of confirmation that this wasn’t just some horrible nightmare that I wasn’t waking up from. And he was right, she didn’t believe me.
I bet she believes me now.
“I’m sure we can all agree that no one wants this situation to get out of hand,” the hospital administrator’s voice penetrates my thoughts. “We believe there was a mix-up with the ID bracelets. Unfortunately, the individual we believe is responsible, no longer works here.”
On so many levels, this never should have happened. We live on a farm in the small town of Fatesville, Idaho, just on the other side of the Washington state border. I was only born in Seattle because my mother was having complications with her pregnancy and this hospital had the closest specialist who could take care of her. It’s in this moment that I realize that she wasn’t having complications with me—but with Hazel.
At every turn, it feels like my identity suddenly isn’t my own anymore, it’s like a sucker punch to the gut. I don’t know what’s up and what’s down. I know that I set this train of destruction in motion, but now all I want to do is get off of it.
I push back from the table, drawing all the attention in the room. I lock eyes with my biological father for the first time. His square jaw is clenched tight, but his expression is mixed with surprise and—interest? I don’t understand the contradiction.
“I need some air,” I say and grab my bag.
“Do you need me to come with you?” Mama asks as she stands up.
“No, Mama.” I pause, flinching inwardly at the word.
It’s like a needle on the record player scratches and everything in the room halts. My gaze flicks between the woman who raised me to the woman who gave birth to me. They are both watching me with expressions of hurt and sadness on their faces. And there is nothing I can say to make it better. I don’t think there are words that can somehow make this terrible situation less painful.
Mama slowly sits back down. I know I’ve hurt her, but I can’t take care of her right now. I need to figure out what’s going on in my head first.
“I’m okay.” I back away towards the door. “I just need a moment.”
No one says anything more as I walk out. The sterile scent of hospital cleansers in the hallway hits me the moment I’m out of the conference room. My stomach churns the waves of nausea moving through me. I practically run for the exit. I need fresh air.
I find my way out to a small courtyard that looks to be a spot where patients can visit with their families. I sit down on one of the empty benches and look around. There are brave smiles on the faces of everyone around me, but the happiness doesn’t reach their eyes. Suddenly the roller coaster of emotions that I’ve been feeling so strongly since I found out the truth levels out. Perspective and reason are finally able to penetrate my head and my heart.
