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It’s time.
Time for me to find out why my own father abandoned me.
Why I wasn’t enough for him to stick around.
Reaching across my desk, I pick up my wallet and pull out the picture I’ve kept hold of for this exact moment. I take a beat to examine it again, to look at the young smiling faces of my mother and father. Of the people who abandoned me.
I hate that they look so happy.
Throwing it on the desk between us, George’s eyes land on the faded picture. The corner of his mouth tips up and my nails dig into the leather on the arm of my chair in an attempt to keep myself anchored. Now isn’t the time to launch myself at him. I need answers.
“Where did you get this?” he asks. His eyes flick to me before returning to the photo.
“It’s the only possession of my mother’s that I have.”
My statement permeates the air and yet he still doesn’t look up at me, too lost in the picture.In the past. He’s probably remembering how he abandoned us when he came swanning back to America. I’m over here hanging on by a thread, and he’s having fun going down memoryfuckinglane.
George’s voice breaks through the silence, filled with amusement as he says, “You know, you and he are very alike. William always did have a way with women, but when Eliza came into the picture, that was it for him.”
William?
My brow pulls together in confusion as I try to comprehend what he’s saying. My middle name is William. Who is he talking about?
He lifts his eyes to mine. “Where did you get this picture?”
Although his focus is no longer on the picture, I don’t miss the way his thumb strokes over it almost lovingly.
I clear my throat as I say, “It was in my belongings when I went into care in England. It’s of my mother and father. Ofyouand my mother.”
He’s silent for a moment as if he’s trying to put together the puzzle pieces. His eyes search mine, looking to see if what I’m saying is the truth.
George lets out a low chuckle as he shakes his head. “Oh this isn’t me, son.” His voice grows somber as he continues, “This is my brother, William. He died in a car accident with his wife, Eliza, back in England, nearly thirty years ago.”
He has to be lying. I know that’s him. Every bit of research I’ve done over the last fifteen years has told me that it’s him. There’s been no mention of a brother, or him dying in a car accident. Surely there would have beensomething. I don’t understand. If what George says is true, then everything I’ve believed for most of my life is a lie. Did they die? They didn’t just abandon me? They didn’t throw me away like last week's rubbish? My mind races with questions I can’t form on my tongue. Was I in that car? Did theyloveme?
My chest constricts with the weight of this revelation. The room spins and I grip the armrests on my chair, needing it to steady myself.
No! He can’t be right.
Iknowthat what he’s saying is not right.
“I… Wh…” I clear my throat in the hopes that it will help me get the words out. “What do you mean they died in a car accident?”
With one last look, George puts the photo back on my desk, leaning back as he rests his arms on the chair.
George’s gaze searches over my features as if seeing me for the first time. It almost looks like he’s struggling as much as I am with this information.
Softly, he says, “We didn’t know he’d had a child.” His eyes glass over as he turns his head away to look over the credenza. “I’m ashamed to say we’d lost touch over the years.” His tone holds all the memories I’m certain that he’s reliving. “A silly fight and someone’s left holding a grudge.” His shoulders droop and I watch as the man in front of me is overcome with remorse.
“Miriam and I went to the funeral, but nobody ever reached out to say there was a child. Thatyouneeded us. I’m so sorry, Sebastian. Sorry that you were left behind, that we didn’t know about you.”
“Why didn’t you know about me? Surely the police or social services could have gotten in contact with you when you went to the funeral?”
George scrubs his hand over his face, his features downturned. It’s like he doesn’t want to share what he’s going to. “We saw Eliza’s brother at the funeral. The rest of her family was long gone, so he was all she had. He seemed shifty. His pupils were dilated and he didn’t seem to be taking care of himself. I told Miriam my suspicions about him, but I convinced myself that it was down to having lost his sister.”
“What do you mean, you had suspicions about him?” I lean forward, needing to know.
I didn’t even know I had an uncle, let alone two.
