Girls in Trouble (35 page)

Jack’s face grew slack. “So he lives in Pittsburgh,” Jack said finally. “So he didn’t sign the papers. What difference does it make now? You were sixteen. You were babies.”

“You don’t understand! You aren’t listening! It means the adoption wasn’t legal, it means Anne is mine—”

“Sara. That’s ridiculous. Let it go.”

“No. Never,” Sara said. “Did you know about this?” She wiped her tears with the flat of her hand. “He said he came to the house and you and Mom threatened him! He said he sent me letters and called! Why didn’t you tell me any of this?”

“You would have ruined your own life!”

“How do you know that?”

“I know! Believe me, I know!”

“It was my life to ruin!”

“Now you just wait a minute before you start shouting at me or accusing me of things,” Jack said. “A father protects his kids, and that’s just what I was doing! Why is that so terrible? Yes, he came to the house, like some
wild thing, and yes, I told him to leave because he was acting so crazy. And you were in a state yourself. I didn’t want you married and with a baby at sixteen and no future at all. Who stays married to their high school sweetheart? And you have a man who loves you now, you have a job you say you like. Things are good now, aren’t thev?”

“Things are unfinished!”

“You wait until you have experience. You’ll see I was right.”

“I loved him—” she said, and Jack held up his hand.

“Love,” he said. “The love that counts is the love for your child.”

Sara stopped. “Did you hear what you just said?”

But her father was buttoning his suit jacket, gathering his things to go back to work. “You’ll see I was right,” he repeated.

After her father left, Sara sat on the couch, trying to sort things out. Sara put both hands over her face. She couldn’t let it go, no more than she could let go of her own heartbeat. She thought of Danny and Charlotte, bathed in light. She thought of Frances, in the house, not coming out.

Danny might not have thought he had helped her, but he had, by telling her he hadn’t signed the papers. But Jesus, who had? And who had known about it? She thought of Eva and George, the way they had pulled back from her. Margaret. She thought of Margaret, the adoption lawyer at the agency. She could find her and see what had happened. Except Margaret hadn’t exactly been on her side. But back then, Margaret hadn’t known the adoption was fraudulent. Margaret had clearly fucked up—if anyone was at fault, surely it was an attorney who didn’t know enough to get the right papers signed at the right time, an attorney who made a terrified kid feel as if she had no recourse in the world but to trust her. The agency would have to help her find them now.

But when she called, Margaret was no longer there. Instead, she spoke to a woman named Lorna Chase, who went to get Sara’s file.

“What can we do for you?” Lorna Chase said, and then Sara began talking.

Lorna Chase sighed. “Well, this is very unfortunate, but as far as I can
tell, this agency acted in good faith. It’s not our job to get a handwriting analysis done, too.”

“It wasn’t his signature,” Sara insisted. “It was fraud. My daughter was stolen from me.”

“Stolen’s a very strong word. And can you prove that? Will the father go to court and say it wasn’t his signature?”

“I don’t know—” Sara lied.

“Sara.” Lorna Chase’s voice was weary. “Don’t think I don’t sympathize, because I do. I really do. But your daughter would be a teenager now. What’s to be gained by this? You’d have to take this to court, the birth father would have to testify, too. Maybe even the process server, if you could find him, which you probably couldn’t. And even then, what are you going to do? Did you do anything Anne’s whole first year to try and overturn the adoption? Did the birth father? Look, anyone can petition the court to hear anything, but whether you have a leg to stand on is another story. The person who should do something is the birth father, not you. And even then, the courts rule in the best interests of the child. Do you really think your daughter might want to leave the only family she’s known? Do you really want to disrupt her life at this late stage with a court case? That’s not in her best interests. The most you could hope for would be for the courts to order visits between the birth parents and the child.”

“She’s my daughter. If you don’t know where they are, can you give me the Social Security number so I can look myself?” Sara pleaded. “Please.”

“No can do. Against the law,” Lorna Chase said. “Surely you know that.”

“I was fifteen when I got pregnant, sixteen when I had her,” Sara said. “They made me part of their family. I loved them. I loved my baby. And then they disappeared.”

Lorna sighed again. “I’m very sorry, Sara. If I had a forwarding address, I’d give it to you. Or I’d contact them myself.”

Sara hung up the phone and went to Abby’s computer, switching it on. She wouldn’t give up, she just wouldn’t. She hadn’t tried to find George or
Eva in years, hadn’t thought she had a right to. Now there were a million new ways to find people, and now, she had money, too.

She found two different sites that looked promising, but both wanted fifty-dollar fees.
“We find anyone,” the
sites said. Sara typed in her credit card. She’d be here for a few more days. That evening, and the next day, she was back and forth to the computer so many times, Jack teased her about which sites she was going onto, but the day after that, she logged on, and there it was: George and Eva Rivers, Boca Raton, Florida. And there below it was an office phone number. And a home phone. There were two addresses.

She glanced at the phone. One in the afternoon. George would be at work. Anne at school. She’d call the office. The phone rang twice and a woman said, “Doctor’s office,” and Sara chewed at a thumbnail.

“Is George there?” Sara said, and then Sara heard George in the background, a voice so familiar it sent a pulse of longing through her body.

“Who’s calling, please?” the woman said, and then Sara hung up.

Suddenly, she had things to do. She called work and told them there was an emergency, that she’d be gone a few more days. “Sara,” said Hal. “We need you here.”
Hope,
she thought. It didn’t die the way people thought. It just went underground and then reemerged.

She knew, but she couldn’t worry about that now. She felt fueled, so energetic, she couldn’t sit still. Everything had a new meaning. She booked a cheap flight so she could be there in the morning, she started to pack and then the phone rang, jolting her, and she picked it up and there was Scott’s voice. “I finally got you!” he said, and she slunk down on the bed again.

“I found us a place!” he exulted. “It just fell into my lap. A client of mine told me he’s giving up his place and did I know anyone who might want it? Sara, it’s a two-bedroom, right in the West Village, and it’s got a sunroom and a little deck and a kitchen as big as Jupiter. I know the building, Sara, and it’s perfect—so I told him yes, sight unseen.”

“Scott.” Her throat was so parched she could barely speak without it hurting. If he’d been there, she would have gone over to him and rested her head along his shoulder, she’d have placed his arm about her, making him hold her tight.

“What, are you mad that I made the decision without you? Don’t be, Sara. I had to say yes, but nothing’s been signed. And I know you’re going to love it. And Sara, I was a fool before. I just want to be with you. I—I want to marry you, Sara. I know I shouldn’t spring this on the phone—”

“Scott!” She rested her head against the receiver. “I have to go somewhere first.”

“First? What are you talking about? What’s more important than this? Go where?”

He was silent the whole time she was telling him, things so stunning even she couldn’t believe them. Even when she started to cry, when she was telling him about what Danny had said to her, he didn’t speak. And when she was finished, she grew afraid.

“You went to find this old boyfriend?” he said, stung. “Is this something I’m going to go through again?”

“It’s nothing like that. I told you I was just riding around.” She heard him breathing. “Scott? What are you thinking?”

“I don’t know. I—Sara, I thought you were over this. What does it mean?”

“It means I have a daughter. It means I have the right to see her.”

“You’re going to just spring yourself on her? After all these years? Surely, you must know that would be disaster. Sara, you studied psychology—”

“And I gave it up!” Sara said. “Because it doesn’t always help. It doesn’t always make things better.”

“Sara—”

“I know, I know everything you’re going to say. But I’m not a psychologist now. I’m a mother. And she’s my daughter.”

“I don’t understand.” She heard his breath through the wires. “Why do you even have to go down there? Why can’t you take it slow? Write her first. Or call.”

“I can’t risk taking it slow. I don’t know if her parents want me knowing her—if they’d disappear again—”

“Well, there you have it,” Scott said, “you shouldn’t do this, then, it’ll be a mess.” And he suddenly sounded so relieved that she felt something tighten inside of her.

“I have to see her.” Sara hesitated. “Come with me, Scott.”

“Sara, I don’t know this girl and neither do you! She has parents, Sara, she has her own life and you’re going to disrupt it. What do you think is going to happen?”

“I can have a relationship. Maybe I can move down there and be nearer to her.”

Scott was quiet for a moment. “I don’t want to move there. My work is here.”

“Well, maybe she can come here—who knows what can be arranged? I just want her to be a part of my life. I just want to see her.”

“What about my life?” he said. “What about our life together?”

“This is our life together”

“No, it’s your life. Your decision.” His voice was so far away, floating from her. “If you have a relationship with this girl, then don’t I have to have a relationship with her, too? What if I’m not ready for that? What if I just want it to be me and you?”

“She’s my daughter!” Sara stared at the phone. She thought of the place they were planning to get together, big and sunny, filled with light, and then she thought of her daughter, a girl who had been frozen in time for years and years.

“We’re either a couple or we’re not,” he said.

“What does that mean?”

“It means don’t go,” he said.

“I have to.”

“Sara,” Scott said, and his voice was suddenly so sad that it worried her. “This is too much for me. You call me, Sara, when you’ve figured out what you need to do.”

She put both hands around the receiver. Was this a mistake? Was this just dreaming, Sean Young aching over her worn photographs of a mother who never existed? “Scott,” she said, and then the silence grew and they both hung up the phone.

The house ticked and settled, and then she got up, and her whole body felt so heavy, as if she had thickened in the space of the conversation. She
would finish packing, and by the time her parents came home, she would be gone. No one could tell her she wasn’t doing the right thing. She would miss Scott, but by the next morning, she would be in Florida and she would see her daughter.

A
nne stood outside the high school, waiting anxiously for Flor and June, clutching her journal to her chest. They used to all walk home together, the three of them giggling and carrying on, gossiping about school and clothes and the boys they secretly yearned over. The Triple Threat, they called themselves. Lately, though, they were more like the Double Trouble, and she was the odd girl out. Though she had casual friends at school, Jasmine in her algebra class whom she sometimes ate lunch with, Ryan in history who regaled her with tales of the computer game he was developing that he hoped would make him rich, when she walked home most days, she walked alone.

She rubbed at her bare arms, wishing she had worn more than a T-shirt, that her legs were in jeans rather than bared under a short plaid skirt, but changing this morning would have involved going back into the house, having Eva trail after her and ask her questions.

She spotted Flor, languidly climbing down the stairs, walking as if she were Miss America, nodding her head at the other kids who were staring yearningly up at her. What would it be like, Anne wondered, to feel that way about yourself? To be that lucky? Flor’s eyes roamed the crowd and then met Anne’s, and instantly Anne perked up. “Flor!” she called, waving, and Flor hesitated, looked around some more, and then ambled over.

“Want to go to the park?” Anne asked. “Or want to come to my house? Hang out?”

Flor considered. “What’s June doing?”

“She went home during history. Period cramps.”

“That rat! She doesn’t have her period! We’re on the same schedule. She should have told me! I would have skipped out, too.”

“She skipped?” Anne said. June had been doubled over at her desk, had winced when anyone even looked at her. And more importantly, June hadn’t let Anne in on the ploy.

“That June is really something,” Flor said admiringly.

“So, do you want to hang out?”