Love Unrehearsed
Page 91
- Background:
- Text Font:
- Text Size:
- Line Height:
- Line Break Height:
- Frame:
“Oh baby. Everything will be okay. I’ve got you. Shhh . . .” He let me cry for what felt like ages, rubbing my back and soothing me with comforting words.
“Come on. Let’s get out of here. Let’s go get some air.” He put his arm around my shoulders and walked me slowly, patiently, to the beach.
The breeze coming off the ocean tossed our hair and tinged my nose with the familiar salty air. We walked for a while before he sat us down on the hardened sand. He put me between his legs, gently combing my hair back.
“Whatever names are on that paper doesn’t change who you are.” New tears streamed down my face. I felt empty and twisted inside. “But it does. It changes everything. Everything I thought was real isn’t.”
Ryan shook his head, cocooning me with his body. “You can’t look at it like that, hon.
The people who raised you are your parents.
They loved you. Just because someone else gave birth to you doesn’t change who you are.”
Nothing would ever be the same. “My entire life has been a lie.”
“No, it hasn’t.”
I wiped my cheeks with my sleeve. “I don’t know why I’m so surprised. I always knew I didn’t look like either one of them. Eyes, nose . . . I used to stare at my face for hours trying to find a piece of them in me.”
I snuggled into his shoulder, feeling the chill off the ocean mix with the chill ripping though my body. My face felt sticky from crying. The waves rolled in, misting the air, mimicking the push and pull of my own emotions.
As I watched the gulls fly and land, guilt crashed over me. “I can’t believe this. I’m sure everyone knew except me. Well, I guess this explains why my mother and her sister stopped talking to each other. Now I know that I was the cause of that fallout.” Ryan rested his chin on my head. “Don’t start blaming yourself. They were adults who made their own paths. You had no influence over that.”
I took the paper out of my pocket, showing Ryan my original birth certificate. I left the official adoption papers back at my apartment with all of the letters. “According to the papers, my birth parents were both sixteen when I was born.” I wiped my face and blew out a cleansing breath, trying to pull myself together. “I remember my mom telling me that the reason I was an only child was that because I was so special, she only needed one. It’s always bothered me why I didn’t look like either of them.” Ryan sighed and squeezed me with his arms. “Your mom and dad did a fantastic job caring for you. There are plenty of people out there who are unfit parents. You said it yourself; they were just kids, Tar. Probably scared shitless.”
“Joe went into the army after he got his GED. I was three or four, I guess. Sent me money in every letter, trying to do right by me. I just feel like I have so many questions now.”
He pulled me in tight. “You do what you have to to resolve this but remember, the people who raised you are your mom and dad.”
“They should have told me.”
His eyes narrowed, almost reprimanding me. “Why? What would you have gained from that knowledge?”
“I never had a chance to get to know the people who brought me into this world. I really think my cousin Joe wanted to know me. My parents kept that all from me.” Ryan swiped a thumb across my cheek, wiping away a tear. “Maybe they had their reasons. Look, I know you feel torn up.
Anyone would. But your family kept you in the family. They are still all related to you by blood. I’ve seen pictures of you growing up and I can tell you that those two people who raised you adored you.”
As we walked back to the pub, I made the decision to find out what those reasons were.
I knew making this phone call would be difficult. My heart clenched when she answered the phone.
“Hi, Aunt Joan. It’s Taryn.” I was greeted with silence and for a moment I thought I’d need to tell her who I was again.
I heard her breath hitch and then she stuttered. “Taryn?”
“Yeah, it’s me.”
“Oh. Sorry, I’m a bit shocked. I never thought you’d call.”
There was no sense stalling. “I found a copy of my birth certificate, the original one.”
She gasped. “The original? You . . . you know?”
“Not everything. I do know that you’re my grandmother.”
She didn’t try to hide her tears, breaking down audibly in my ear. A few tears of my own dripped. Ryan walked by, pausing to kiss my forehead and drop off a box of tissues before giving me privacy again. I knew he was just around the corner listening. It gave me comfort to know that he was only a breath away.
“Come on. Let’s get out of here. Let’s go get some air.” He put his arm around my shoulders and walked me slowly, patiently, to the beach.
The breeze coming off the ocean tossed our hair and tinged my nose with the familiar salty air. We walked for a while before he sat us down on the hardened sand. He put me between his legs, gently combing my hair back.
“Whatever names are on that paper doesn’t change who you are.” New tears streamed down my face. I felt empty and twisted inside. “But it does. It changes everything. Everything I thought was real isn’t.”
Ryan shook his head, cocooning me with his body. “You can’t look at it like that, hon.
The people who raised you are your parents.
They loved you. Just because someone else gave birth to you doesn’t change who you are.”
Nothing would ever be the same. “My entire life has been a lie.”
“No, it hasn’t.”
I wiped my cheeks with my sleeve. “I don’t know why I’m so surprised. I always knew I didn’t look like either one of them. Eyes, nose . . . I used to stare at my face for hours trying to find a piece of them in me.”
I snuggled into his shoulder, feeling the chill off the ocean mix with the chill ripping though my body. My face felt sticky from crying. The waves rolled in, misting the air, mimicking the push and pull of my own emotions.
As I watched the gulls fly and land, guilt crashed over me. “I can’t believe this. I’m sure everyone knew except me. Well, I guess this explains why my mother and her sister stopped talking to each other. Now I know that I was the cause of that fallout.” Ryan rested his chin on my head. “Don’t start blaming yourself. They were adults who made their own paths. You had no influence over that.”
I took the paper out of my pocket, showing Ryan my original birth certificate. I left the official adoption papers back at my apartment with all of the letters. “According to the papers, my birth parents were both sixteen when I was born.” I wiped my face and blew out a cleansing breath, trying to pull myself together. “I remember my mom telling me that the reason I was an only child was that because I was so special, she only needed one. It’s always bothered me why I didn’t look like either of them.” Ryan sighed and squeezed me with his arms. “Your mom and dad did a fantastic job caring for you. There are plenty of people out there who are unfit parents. You said it yourself; they were just kids, Tar. Probably scared shitless.”
“Joe went into the army after he got his GED. I was three or four, I guess. Sent me money in every letter, trying to do right by me. I just feel like I have so many questions now.”
He pulled me in tight. “You do what you have to to resolve this but remember, the people who raised you are your mom and dad.”
“They should have told me.”
His eyes narrowed, almost reprimanding me. “Why? What would you have gained from that knowledge?”
“I never had a chance to get to know the people who brought me into this world. I really think my cousin Joe wanted to know me. My parents kept that all from me.” Ryan swiped a thumb across my cheek, wiping away a tear. “Maybe they had their reasons. Look, I know you feel torn up.
Anyone would. But your family kept you in the family. They are still all related to you by blood. I’ve seen pictures of you growing up and I can tell you that those two people who raised you adored you.”
As we walked back to the pub, I made the decision to find out what those reasons were.
I knew making this phone call would be difficult. My heart clenched when she answered the phone.
“Hi, Aunt Joan. It’s Taryn.” I was greeted with silence and for a moment I thought I’d need to tell her who I was again.
I heard her breath hitch and then she stuttered. “Taryn?”
“Yeah, it’s me.”
“Oh. Sorry, I’m a bit shocked. I never thought you’d call.”
There was no sense stalling. “I found a copy of my birth certificate, the original one.”
She gasped. “The original? You . . . you know?”
“Not everything. I do know that you’re my grandmother.”
She didn’t try to hide her tears, breaking down audibly in my ear. A few tears of my own dripped. Ryan walked by, pausing to kiss my forehead and drop off a box of tissues before giving me privacy again. I knew he was just around the corner listening. It gave me comfort to know that he was only a breath away.
