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“Is there someplace else you’d like to go?” she asked.
“Living in Canada is great, but I’d really like to go to New York.” It made no sense to me that she was willing to travel all over the world but avoided the country right next door.
“How about Paris?” She suggested looking hopeful that I’d be tempted.
I shook my head. “We did that for my sixteenth birthday, remember.”
“New York is so busy. I would have thought you’d want some quiet place. Lying on a beach and relaxing,” she replied.
“Everybody wants to see New York at least once in their lifetime. Think about all the movies we’ve watched together that were filmed there. Don’t you want to go there, take in a show and do some sightseeing?”
Mom sighed but nodded. “Okay. New York it is. But it doesn’t sound like my feet are going to be getting the break they were looking forward to.”
“I promise not to drag you around to everything. I’ll leave you to sit by the pool while I play tourist,” I smile.And hire a private investigator to find my father's family.
“Okay. You win. But next year we are going to some tropical place. I am really missing the warm sandy beaches,” she said.
That comment struck me as odd. We’d been to the beach before, but not often. Thinking back, she had seemed more comfortable and relaxed there than anywhere else that we’d been. “Yeah. We don’t get a lot of that living in Canada.” She wanted sunny beaches, which I needed to make sure we went to soon, but I yearned for the big city. Is that something my father liked too?Am I like him?
It wasn’t going to be easy, and I didn’t expect it to be quick, but I was going to find out no matter how long it took. The fairytale dreams of what they were like might come crashing down, but at least I’d know, and I could move on.Until then, I can’t plan my future. Can’t think about having a family of my own someday. What would I tell my children? Tell them that I have no idea where I’m from?Because no matter what my birth certificate said, I don’t believe I was born in Canada. I just couldn’t figure out where my home is.
“You look like your mind is a million miles away. What are you thinking about?” she asked.
“New York.” It was mostly true.Because when I get home tonight, I’m going to find a private investigator and schedule a meeting.
“I’ve finished with the books for tonight. Why don’t we go home,” she suggested.
“I have a few more things I want to take care of first.”
“Did you want me to wait for you?” she offered.
“No, Mom. You go. I’ll call you in the morning,” I said.
Mom got up, walked around the desk, and gave me a hug. “I’m really glad you agreed to take a vacation with me.”
“Even though it’s not Fiji?” I asked.
She squeezed me tighter. “Whatever makes you happy is what makes me happy.”
As long as it doesn’t have to do with my late father.
“When do we leave?” I asked.
“How does Monday sound?” she said.
“Sounds like you have some emails to send out to the employees and checks to cut,” I reminded her.
She smiled. “Guess I have a long night tonight too. Talk to you in the morning. Love you MaKayla.”
“Love you too, Mom.”
When she was gone, and the door locked behind her, I went back into the office and sat at the computer. I couldn’t wait until I got home. I needed to start my search now. It was a process and not an easy one. I read reviews and looked at what they offered. Unfortunately, I wasn’t exactly sure what I needed either. But once I found what I hoped was the right agency, I sent an email requesting an appointment. I knew I wouldn't hear back tonight, but I had butterflies in my stomach. This was just the first step.I hope you don’t hate me when you find out what I’ve done, Mom.
“I wish you would just tell me. Then I won’t have to go behind your back.”
The guilt was beginning to fill me, and I hadn’t even spoken to the agency yet. Hiding this from my mother wasn’t going to be easy. Telling her what I was doing would be even harder.
Who knows, there might not be anything to tell anyway.
