And Then I Found You (18 page)

“And you’re positive it’s her? Absolutely positive.”

“Yes.”

“Send me her photo. Right now.”

Jack rattled off his e-mail and Kate sat down at the computer, dragging Emily’s photo
onto her desktop and e-mailing it to Jack as they talked on the phone. She rattled
off facts. “She lives in Bronxville, New York. From the photos, I think she’s always
lived there.”

There were, she imagined, a million rooms in every woman’s heart. Oh, how many doors
had she shut when she handed her child to the social worker, when she closed her eyes
as her daughter left the room? Those doors were now flung open, light pouring in.

“Call me as soon as she writes back to you. Promise?” Jack asked. “I don’t have a
Facebook account.”

“Of course.”

The hours were eternal and timeless as Kate, Tara, and Molly waited for a response
from Emily Luna Jackson, daughter of Kate and Jack, yet daughter of another family.
Hours passed and phone calls were made and the world stood still and spun out of control.
The sisters agreed—Kate would tell their parents in person. But not until they had
heard back from Emily.

Later, when the day was relived as all miraculous days are, the sisters would talk
about what each one did during the delay.

Tara wrote to Emily, “We have loved you since the day you were born.” She paced the
house, cleaning her children’s rooms as if acknowledging their existence and being
grateful even in their mess.

Molly searched the Internet for information and cut and pasted photos, forming a scrapbook
of pictures. She made a list of Emily’s facts, one after the other, as if they could
add up to someone she knew.

Kate browsed through every single photo on Emily’s page, looking for signs of Jack,
for symbols with as much import as a feather or snake in the wilderness.

Deductions and assumptions were made. Emily had two younger brothers (But Kate had
thought the mother couldn’t get pregnant? Had they adopted more kids?). They lived
in Bronxville, New York. She had strawberry blond hair. Her parents were married still.

During the chaos, Kate’s Facebook message in-box finally glowed with a
1
. Kate held her breath, and clicked to read the note.

Hi, I’m happy that I found you. I have always wondered what you look like and where
you were. You have a beautiful family and your sisters already wrote to me. Love,
Emily Luna Jackson. P.S. This is really weird and wonderful and I’m a little bit nervous,
but my mom said I could write back.

Kate read the e-mail over and over, trying to find a hidden code, a Fibonacci sequence
of words. What did Emily really mean? Was she okay? Did she want to meet her birth
mother or was she merely curious? The questions rattled loose and dangling like wind
chimes in a storm, dissonant and unnerving.

Fingers poised over the keyboard, Kate finally found the sentences she needed.

Most Beautiful Emily, I would love to meet you and your precious family, but I will
leave this up to you and your family. Love, Kate Vaughn.

Notes and messages flew between South Carolina and New York. Emotions were tangled
inside words read over the hours, every syllable analyzed. Phone calls crisscrossed
between the Vaughn sisters. And inside this disorder, a new order slowly unfolded.

eighteen

BRONXVILLE, NEW YORK

2010

Voices echoed from the playroom down the hall as Emily’s brothers played Xbox and
screamed at the screen as if it were a living thing. Emily and her parents—Elena and
Larry—sat on the couch ready to talk.

“Mom, I didn’t want to make you upset. I just wanted to see what she looked like.
That’s all. I’ve always wondered.”

“I wanted to love you enough that you never wondered.”

Elena’s legs were curled up underneath her bottom. A tissue crumpled and wet in her
hand was the only sign of her tears. Emily scooted across the couch and hugged her
mom, throwing one leg over Elena’s lap as if she were a toddler. “You love me more
than anything. For sure this has everything to do with me and wondering where I got
my looks from and stupid stuff like that. I mean, really, Mom, wouldn’t you be curious?”

Elena nodded. “Maybe so, yes. But now she knows you. She knows where you live and
who you are. Her sisters know too.”

“So?”

“They’ll want to meet you. Who wouldn’t want to meet you? I hate Facebook.” Elena
dropped her head into her hands. “I told you Facebook was nothing but trouble.”

Larry hugged his wife and laughed. “Nothing but trouble.”

Fighting over a remote control, Emily’s brothers tumbled into the room to find their
mom, dad, and sister huddled together on the couch as if a tornado had rattled the
home. “What did Emily do now?” Steve, her littlest brother, asked.

Emily looked up at her brother while reaching for a magazine off the coffee table,
which she promptly and accurately threw at his head. Steve ducked and the papers crashed
into the wall, knocking a botanical sketch crooked.

“I didn’t do anything. We were just talking,” Emily said.

“You made Mom cry.”

Elena stood and faced her sons with a smile. “No, she didn’t. Come here, I want to
tell you something.”

The boys glanced at each other finally forgetting who really “owned” the remote. “What?”
They asked in unison.

Elena glanced at Emily and then to the boys. “Emily found some photos of her birth
mother and we were talking about that.”

“And her sisters and family,” Emily said, glancing over the back of the couch to make
faces at her brothers behind her mother’s back.

Ethan, the older brother pointed at Emily. “Does she look like Emily? Does she look
like a mushroom?”

Emily jumped off the couch and ran toward Ethan, who knew that if he didn’t escape,
an Indian burn would appear on his arm.

“You’re dead,” she hollered after him.

“I love you, Sissy,” his voice echoed from the back hallway.

Emily shook her head. “See, Mom. We’re real family. Nothing can change that.”

Elena looked up to the ceiling with a smile on her face. “Oh, Dear Lord, where oh
where did I go wrong?”

Laughter filled the room and Elena walked to the kitchen to begin preparations for
dinner. Emily plopped next to her dad. “What do you think? Should I meet her?”

“I think you and your mom should discuss this.”

“Cop-out.” Emily smiled at her dad and poked his arm.

He leaned forward and placed his hand on Emily’s knee. “Baby, you know we’re your
parents. You know how much we love you. If you want to meet the woman who gave birth
to you, then you should. I trust you. This is hard on your mom because deep down she’s
always been worried about losing you and this brings up all those fears.”

“Lose me? That’s crazy.”

“Not to your mother.” He winked. “And I suggest that you don’t even think about using
that word with her.”

“I won’t.” Emily leaned back on the couch cushions. “It would be interesting, I think,
to meet her. Just see what she’s like. It’s not like I want to hang out with her and
be best friends.”

“Like a country you heard about, but never visited.”

“Exactly.” Emily said, taking her dad’s hand. “Exactly. I don’t want to live there.
I just want to see what it looks like.”

He nodded. “Then you should.”

Emily settled into her dad’s shoulder for a hug. How could they ever believe that
they could lose her?

nineteen

BLUFFTON, SOUTH CAROLINA

2010

The pier was empty that next evening as Rowan and Kate walked to its edge. Rowan carried
a shrimp net and a bucket as twilight flirted with the river. Kate was nervous. After
telling her parents and watching them weep with their own relief, it was time to tell
Rowan.

They sat on a bench as Rowan untied the net. “Hell, I don’t understand how this damn
thing gets knotted when all I do is put it in the bucket. It’s like someone comes
in and tangles it up when I’m not looking.”

“Necklaces do that in a drawer too,” Kate said and took his hand.

He stopped his movements and looked at her. “Is something wrong?”

“I have to tell you something.”

“Why do I feel like this something is a thing I don’t want to hear?”

Kate tried to smile. “Oh, it’s good.”

“Okay, what is it?”

“Yesterday Luna found me. On Facebook. A month ago, she’d sent a friend request, but
you know I never check.”

Rowan dropped the net and took both Kate’s hands in his. “This must be a relief for
you.”

“It is,” she said. “But, it’s so much more than a relief. I want to scream it from
the mountains. I want to fly to New York right now. I want to kiss her face. She’s
beautiful.” Kate took in a deep breath and exhaled everything she knew about her daughter:
her name and age, where she lived, and how many siblings.

Rowan was quiet during this word-torrent, untangling his net while still keeping his
eyes focused on her. “Wow,” he said quietly.

“Isn’t that crazy? I mean; you can’t make up stuff like that. There are all these
weird coincidences. Her last name is Jackson.”

Rowan looked away. “Her last name is Jackson.” He shook his head. “And you aren’t
making that up?”

“No.”

“Sounds like this was all very meant to be.”

“Oh, I hope so. I mean, since the awful day I said good-bye to her, I’ve survived
knowing that I did the right thing. And all the littlest things—like her name—are
little God-hints that I did the right thing, that all is well even when it doesn’t
feel well.”

“Have you told Jack?”

“Yes, of course.”

“So, you told him before you told me?”

“He’s … the dad.”

“I know that part.”

“I’m so sorry this hurts you. Right here is the reason I waited so long to tell you.
I didn’t want this thing between us.”

“What thing between us?” he asked.

“The sad thing I see all over your face.”

“I want you to have
our
child in our lives. I’m not mad. But yes, it’s a little sad for me.”

Kate placed her arms around his neck and held him close, wanting to want him, needing
to need him. Her feelings twisted and pulled. She was unsure of anything but the need
to see her daughter.

“I know this is awful and hard for you,” she said.

“This means you’ll be seeing Jack again.”

“Probably at some point, but that’s okay, right?”

“I hope. I sure damn hope so.”

“It’s not about him. This is about Luna.”

“No, it’s also and most definitely about him.” Rowan looked directly at her. “I love
you, Kate Vaughn, but this
is
about Jack Adams.” Rowan stood and shook the net. “It really is amazing how one thing
can change everything.” He walked to the edge of the pier. “One damn thing.”

“I’m sorry,” Kate said.

“What are you sorry for?”

“Everything.”

He glanced over his shoulder as he gathered the net into his hands, readying it to
toss. “Go find your way in this, Kate. I’ll be here for you, but this is yours and
Jack’s. I hate it, but it’s true.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Yes, you’ve already said that.” He turned his back to her and tossed the net in a
pearl-tinted circle that hovered in the air before splashing. “Go on, Kate. Do what
you need to do, we’ll talk later.”

She kissed his cheek, but by the time Rowan had pulled the weight of his net out of
the water and dumped the shrimp into a bucket, Kate was halfway down the pier with
her back to the water, to Rowan.

*   *   *

Kate bent over the Mimsy computer in the back storage room and clicked on the refresh
button of her in-box. Nothing.

Lida came from behind, laughing. “You gonna check that every five minutes?”

“Probably.” Kate stood and smiled. “Yep, probably. Maybe every two minutes.”

Lida smiled. “I would, too.” Then she held up a gray silk shirt. “Mrs. Plinson brought
this back. She said it itched in the back.” Lida rolled her eyes. “Whatever. She probably
wore it to a party and didn’t get enough compliments.” Lida held up a sleeve. “This
right here.” She pointed to a small spot that looked wet. “That’s where she tried
to clean off a stain, probably bourbon if I know her.”

Kate exhaled. “So how many times do we let her get away with this?”

Lida shrugged. “That’s your call.”

“The last thing I need right now is to argue with Mrs. Plinson. She’s been a great
customer for six years.”

“You are too damn nice, you know that don’t you?” Lida asked.

“I think I’m too damn preoccupied.” Kate turned back to the computer. “Finding Luna—it’s
like those first days after you fall in love.”

“I wouldn’t know.…”

Kate looked over her shoulder. “You will, and when you do, you’ll check your e-mail
every five minutes. You’ll call me to talk about it over and over. You’ll rearrange
your spices in alphabetical order just to have something else to think about. You’ll
start ten things and not finish one.”

“Um,” Lida said. “I doubt it.”

“Just you wait.”

Lida handed the shirt to Kate. “Here. This will give you something to do.” She smiled.
“You know I’m kidding, right? I mean, I totally get why you’re all scattered. This
is a big deal. She’s not even my daughter and I want to know everything.”

Kate sat and clicked on her e-mail again. Nothing.

She turned to Lida. “I wonder if she walks to school or takes the bus. I wonder if
her mom wakes her up or if she has an alarm clock. I wonder—who is her best friend?
What’s her favorite food? Does she like one brother better?” Kate took a breath.

Lida reached down and touched Kate’s shoulder. “You’re going to make yourself crazy.”

“Yes, crazy.” Rowan’s voice filled the room.

“Hey,” Kate said and jumped up, hugging him. It was an awkward embrace, the kind given
to a stranger, or a new friend, not a lover. Kate felt remorse seep into the edges
of her happiness. “I’m so glad you’re here. What’s up?”