AllFreeNovel
Share Us
She says things like this sometimes, and I’m never quite sure how to respond. Sometimes I want to ask—demand, even—that she elaborate. But I’m not brave enough to hear what she has to say. “Okay. I’ll ask him.” I glance at the clock on the wall and hike my bag further up my shoulder. At the door, I slip my feet into my shoes. “I need to get going.”
Callie gives one more almighty sigh and calls out, “Bye,” as I slip into the hallway.
I’m antsy the whole drive home, holding my breath and only letting it out when I open the garage at my dad’s house and see that his car isn’t there. I should have at least thirty minutes before he gets home, but there’s no time to waste.
I leave my bag in my room and head down the hall to his office. The door is open, and I stand just inside for a few seconds, trying to decide where to start.
Somewhere in this room is my birth certificate. I just have to find it.
I plunk myself down in the desk chair and pull out all his drawers. They’re mostly filled with supplies, things like paper clips and notepads and pens. The bottom left drawer is deeper and has a few folders stacked inside. I pick them up and flip through them, but they all seem to be related to his job. I replace them, making sure to put them back at exactly the angle I found them.
There’s a short file cabinet to the right, and that’s where I turn my attention next. I pull open the top drawer and my heart rate picks up, because these documents appear to be personal. I flip through the tabs labeled “taxes” and “mortgage” and “tuition”, looking for one that might give me what I need.
In the very back of the drawer, so deep I have to wedge my arm in to pull it forward, is a file labeled “Azalea”.
The folder is bulging, and I pull out all the documents and set them on the desk.
Surely—surely,the answer is in here.
Careful to keep everything in the order I found it, I slowly work my way through the pile. There are school grade cards, vaccination records, a report from the child psychologist my dad took me to see when I went through a period of separation anxiety. I skim it, but the information I need isn’t there.
Then there’s a collection of photos, bundled together with a rubber band. I’m about to set them aside when I happen to see the top photo, and I’m stopped in my tracks.
It’s her.
Not just her—it’s her andme, in a hospital bed. She looks exhausted, with big bags under her eyes and a mess of blonde hair falling around her shoulders, but she’s smiling. I’m in her arms, face puckered and red.
This is my first time seeing my mother. I’ve seen lots of baby photos of myself, but never one that included her. I can’t help but take a moment to drink her in, searching for myself in her pale, tired face. Maybe it’s the angle or the lighting or the fact that she just gave birth, but I can’t find any feature we share.
I notice the hospital bracelet on her wrist and squint at it, but the words are a blur. I tug the rubber band off the pile of photos and begin to flip through the others. Some are of her, some of my dad, some of them both. I pause on one where they are standing at Red Rocks in Colorado, somebody else clearly taking the photo for them as they stare into each other’s eyes, wide grins splitting their faces.
They were in love once. We were afamilyonce.
What happened?
I put that picture on the bottom of the pile. When I register the next one, I freeze.
It’s a sonogram.
It’smysonogram.
And in the corner, next to the date—about six months before my birthday—is the name MARIE HALL, clear as day.
I grab my phone and take a picture of the sonogram. Then I carefully reassemble the pile of pictures and documents, setting everything in its original order before sliding it back into the drawer and slipping out of the room as if I were never there.
Chapter Four
Maverick
“Hey,”IcallasI walk into my parents’ house on Saturday morning, letting my backpack slip down my arm and land beside the door. “I’m home!”
“Mavvy!”
My twelve-year-old sister, Lilly, squeals as she appears from nowhere and barrels toward me. I barely have time to extend my arms before she launches herself into them. “I missed you!”
“Missed you too, Lil.” I kiss her head. “What smells so good?”
She gives me one more tight squeeze. “Mom and Dad made Big Breakfast,” she explains cheerily.
