“I’ve never actually seen one of these,” Lane said while handling my burgundy Colombian passport. “Your mom is Colombian, right?”
I nodded my head. “She married an American and convinced him to move there with her.” I flipped through the pictures until I found one of my parents. I smiled as I let myself think about them. So deeply in love, yet so naïve as to how to raise or care for a child. They were young, free spirits, who lived only for themselves. Having a child cramped their style.
A thought suddenly occurred to me that I’m sure should have crossed my mind sooner. “Did anyone contact my parents? You know… after?”
“They were contacted for information, yes. I remember your father being pretty upset.”
“We never really spoke much, but I should call them soon and let them know. If they even remember me.”
“Don’t be ridiculous, Rae,” Lane scolded. He thought I was being overly dramatic, but the truth was that I used to have to remind my parents when it was my birthday. Once I called my mom and she didn’t even recognize my voice. Our relationship was distant at best. “When did you move here?” he asked.
“I was about eleven when our neighborhood started having an increase in drug crime. It continued to escalate and my dad demanded we all leave. My mom refused and he wouldn’t leave without her, so he sent me to live with his sister in Brooklyn. My Aunt Lisa should never have been responsible for a child, but then again, neither should my parents.”
“If you lived in Colombia for eleven years, I would have thought your accent would be heavier,” Lane said, looking through the pictures with me.
“That was my Aunt Lisa for you. She was more concerned with having a best friend and teaching me how to catch men. She also berated me for my accent and constantly taught me to speak with more of an American pronunciation. Guess it stuck.” I shrugged my shoulders because I really could have cared less. I’ve always had kind of a struggle with my heritage. I had no idea what I was. Was I Latino or Caucasian or both? Was I Columbian or American? What was my title? I had dual citizenship, but what did that really say about who I was?
I turned another page and ran my finger over a picture of myself taken when I was nineteen. I remember I had been waitressing in a diner over by the bridge, and my uniform consisted of a white button-up and a little, striped skirt. It had been summertime and the other waitresses and I were all out back in the summer heat on a smoke break. I had unbuttoned the bottom half of my shirt and tied it up high so my midsection was revealed.
“How old were you here?” Lane questioned quietly. His fingers grazed the photograph.
“Nineteen,” I replied. If I remembered correctly, it wasn’t long after that when I met Braden’s dad, falling head over heels for his charm. I really should have kept that shirt down.
“God, I am a pervert!” he groaned.
I laughed, “Hey, I was legal.”
“Barely, babe.”
I backhanded him in the chest and turned the page. This light banter between us felt nice. I was never able to speak to any of the adults at the Flores’ house. Not that I had wanted to anyway. But speaking to someone over the age of five provided almost immediate stress relief. Finally, I could have adult conversations!
Just then, the door across the hall opened and out sauntered a smiling Braden. I was instantly calmed to see that he was cheerful and didn’t appear to be distressed by the interaction at all. I stood from my seat and moved quickly toward him. Charlie walked back into the room behind Braden.
“Hi, baby!” I smiled and knelt down to pull him in for a tight hug. “How was it talking to the lady?”
I felt Lane’s presence behind me, and then from the corner of my eye, I watched as he squatted down next to me as well. I appreciated his care and concern for Braden more than ever in that moment.
“Hey, bud,” he said softly.
“It was so fun, mama. I painted pictures, built towers out of wood, read a cool book we’ve never read before, and she even gave me this!” He twirled a blue lollipop in his fingers and I laughed at his easygoing attitude.
Kate skipped over to us and shouted, “My turn, right!?” We all shrank back from the volume of her voice. She had obviously had those ear buds in for too long.
Lane’s face dropped slightly, but he picked it back up quickly when he turned to face her. “You’re right, Kit Kat. I’ll miss you.”
Kate brushed her hands down the sides of Lane’s strong jaw and spoke sweetly to him. “I’m gonna be right back, okay, daddy?” I smiled at the way she was trying to console him.
He opened his arms and pulled her into his embrace. She tucked her face in his neck and he began whispering in her ear. She nodded her head and then eventually turned to whisper back in his. It was probably the sweetest thing I had ever witnessed.
He stood up and escorted Kate toward the lady standing in her doorway. “Same goes for her,” he said sternly. “If at anytime she’s uncomfortable, she comes out.” There was no arguing with that tone… this was the daddy bear in full force. The lady seemed to take it in stride as she nodded her head and quietly closed the door behind them. I was sure she’d experienced her fair share of protective parents.
I wanted to ask Braden everything. I wanted to know what she had asked and how he’d responded. I wanted to know what he’d colored and what he’d built. I wanted to know what the story was called that he’d read. But I didn’t want to overwhelm him at the same time. I knew he would be hungry soon and that I should probably wait to ask all of my questions when I had both of them back.
“You feel better, mama?” Braden asked as we all settled back on the couch.
“Now that you’re here, I feel great.”
“Lane carried you like Superman carried that lady in my book,” he laughed.
“I don’t think it was quite that dramatic,” Lane joked from the other side of Braden. At the thought of him holding me, my eyes immediately zoned in on his arm. The arm that was, of course, not in a sling.
“Let me check your stitches,” I sighed dramatically.
Lane shrank back and noticeably moved his shoulder away from me. “I’m good. I swear it’s okay.” He spoke too quickly, and for some reason that just made me want to check all the more.
“You helped me, now let me return the favor. You probably injured yourself carrying me up here.”
“No seriously. The nurse that helped you, she looked me over. Said I was perfect.” He smiled brightly but still oozed guilt.
I leaned over him and he gave in half-heartedly. I pulled his shirt collar to the side and noticed a new bandage. That was good because we both had needed it. I pulled one little corner back so I could peep without exposing it. I looked underneath and then sealed it back shut against his skin. When I sat back down, he visibly relaxed, obviously thinking he was off the hook.
“That’s a lot of blue stitches.”
“Yeah, I can’t wait to get ‘em out. They itch like crazy,” he said while looking through my photo album again.
“Interesting how the stitches you had last night were black, though.”
“Busted,” Charlie boldly sang out from across the room.
- NINE -
LANE -
After what felt like a lifetime, Kate skipped out of the counselor’s office with a smile on her face, just as Braden had. Now that all three of them were back with me, I finally felt the tension in my chest release its strangling clutch.
We tried to grab a quick bite to eat, but Kate and Braden were so enamored with the restaurant, it was just too entertaining for Raegan and me to make them leave. They found it fascinating that we could go to a place and order what we wanted and eat around other people eating their meals as well. We stayed late and let them soak it all in.