Family Pieces (30 page)

Hanna picked up the phone and articulated the only words that came to mind, “Mr. Woods, I’ll have Karsen call you later.”

21

M
onday morning, Addison arrived at the office before dawn. She couldn’t eat. She couldn’t sleep. A mere twenty-four hours ago she was enjoying breakfast in bed with Russell. The scene repeated again and again in her mind with the outcome always the same. She and Russell were over and no matter how much she hated to admit it, she hurt. She had ignored the two messages Russell had left on her cell phone since she asked him to leave. She listened with a heavy heart to the last of the three messages she now found from him in her office voice mail.

“I’ve called five times, Addison. I won’t call again.”

Addison pressed delete.

She scrolled through the proposals for the new issue, tracking her revisions in red. An hour – maybe more – passed, and she started hearing her staff roll in and the office outside her door start to bustle with activity.

“Good morning, Addy,” Marjorie poked her head through the door. Immediately noting her employer’s unusually lackluster appearance, she shook her head and said, “Shit, Addison. You broke it off with him, didn’t you?”

Addison looked up from her desk with an expression clearly warning Marjorie not to go there.

“You’re going to end up alone like me,” Marjorie muttered under her breath just loud enough for Addison to hear. She nodded her head and backed out of Addison’s office, closing the door behind her.

Addison kept cover in her office the majority of the morning, speaking only to Jacob via online messenger. It was getting close to lunch time when Marjorie’s voice came through the intercom.

“Line 1, Addison.”

“Who is it?”

Marjorie hesitated, knowing she’d decline.

“Emily.”

“Tell her I’m busy.”

“I’m not going through this again, Addison. She’s already called twice. You tell her.” She transferred the call.

“Hello?” Addison answered disgruntled.

“Addy, what are you doing?”

“Working.”

“No, you know what I mean. Russell called. Are you really this stupid?”

“Stay out of my business, Emily. I’m a big girl.”

“Then perhaps you should start acting like one. He loves you.”

“What makes you think I love him?”

“Because I know you,” Emily said.

“You think you know me. Perhaps you should stop meddling in my business,” Addison vented. “What did you tell him anyway? I trusted you.”

“You didn’t trust me. You blurted it out by mistake. Besides, I didn’t tell him anything except that you have a history of pushing people away.”

Addison didn’t respond.

“Addy,” Emily softened her voice. “You can hate me. You can shut me out, but I’m your friend, your best friend – maybe your only friend – and I won’t sit around silent while you destroy your chance at happiness. I love you and I can’t live with that.”

“I’ve got to get back to work,” said Addison dismissively. “Can we talk about this later?” she asked, meaning as in never.

“You tell me when you’re ready. And, Ad, please call Russell before it’s too late.” Emily hung up the phone.

Addison stewed. She knew Emily was right. She would lose him. But that was for the best, no matter how much her heart ached.

Monday passed slowly for Brad, Hanna, and Karsen. Hanna attempted to call Brad, but he avoided her calls. At the same time, Karsen avoided all of his.

Brad’s anger swelled. His foundation – his family – was crumbling around him. He felt betrayed, first by his mother’s secret and now knowing Karsen’s. Pregnant? How could she allow that to happen? And now? The timing couldn’t be worse. He was supposed to leave for the audition any day. How could he depart for Hollywood and leave her alone? Even if he did, his focus would be compromised. His natural instinct to protect and help her as he always did now conflicted with a growing resentment. “Damn it, Karsen!” he shouted, picking up a framed family photo and flinging it across the room.

The glass shattered against the wall.

Karsen opened her purse and pulled out the photo of the baby she’d brought from home after her recent visit, realizing now that it was that of her sister. She held the photo to her lips feeling as though it could speak to her. Karsen knew “Lily” had been adopted as an infant. She wondered, though, if her sister knew about her, if she knew she had another family other than her adopted one. Or if she knew she was adopted, would she even want to find her birth mother? Did she resent her mother’s decision? Would she welcome at her age – Karsen figured the now-grown woman to be in her late thirties – the fact she had a brother and sister? Maybe their mother felt she couldn’t or shouldn’t seek out her first born, but Karsen had to know the answer to these and so many other questions. She had to know how Lily felt about her life. Was she happy? Did she love her adoptive family? In her heart, Karsen needed to know whether giving her baby a chance at life was worth it even if she couldn’t be in it.

With a sense of urgency, Karsen pulled her laptop off the counter and booted up the system. She wasn’t sure where to start searching for a person, but in her blog readings on the
ancestry.com
site Karsen recalled remnants of advice. The first was to trace the person through the state they were adopted in. Each state had different laws regarding access to adoption records. She also remembered something about intermediary services. She logged on to the web and searched for “adoption in Indiana.” What if the adoption had taken place elsewhere? She reasoned she had to start somewhere. Her stomach churned thinking she very well may be on a impossible quest. She wondered also if Brad would approve of her search. Not that she really cared at this point. She was the one in her mother’s shoes, and she needed to know.

The screen brought up the Indiana Adoption History Registry. She clicked on the link and skimmed the text. As a birth sibling she had rights, but consent had to be granted from her sister. She wondered if she had already consented. If she had not, the way Karsen interpreted the information was that an independent party could contact her for consent. The registry offered this service and it was known as a confidential intermediary. She searched for a contact e-mail, but could only find a brick and mortar address for contact. Great, snail mail, she thought sarcastically as she opened up Word to type the letter.

She printed the letter bolding her contact information in the header and then addressed the envelope. Before placing it in the mailbox, she prayed for a rapid reply.

Brad stood outside the science building in the warm afternoon sun. He wore baggy, cargo shorts and brown flip-flops. Heat radiated through his striped polo shirt and he could feel sweat trickle down the middle of his back. He didn’t care. It had already been three days, and he refused to let his sister avoid him any longer. He felt guilty about distancing himself from and ignoring Hanna, too. He knew they would be in class together and headed toward them hastily as soon as he saw them walk out of the door.

“We need to talk,” he said to his sister. Looking at Hanna, he smiled and gave her a quick kiss on the cheek. “I’ll call you.” She nodded and walked away.

He put his arm around Karsen and grabbed her bag.

“Let’s go somewhere more private.”

They walked through campus and arrived at a shaded bench. A few students lounged under trees studying nearby.

“Sit,” he directed her, and she complied. He wanted to tell her how disappointed he was, how he was tired of sacrificing his life to pick up hers. But he didn’t. She was his baby sister, and she’d been through enough.

“I’m sorry,” she said, nervously fiddling with her necklace.

“I know.”