Beyond Eighteen(105)
Nick moved to Palo Alto and took over running the Northern California division of Browler’s Burritos. So they’re still together. Slowly J and I have been working on Nick and Max, and they are coming around. They can actually shake hands now, and hold conversations about sports and cars; we’re taking it one day at a time. I’ve gotten past the incident between Nick and me. Matter of fact, we’ve both forgiven each other for what happened. We’ve chalked it up to a mistaken moment and bad judgment. I like Nick, and I like seeing J so happy with him.
I can actually say my life is pretty close to perfect right now. There’s just one thing I still need to do.
“Are you going to keep fiddling with that, or are you going to get out of the car?” Max asked.
“No, I’m gonna go up there...I just, well, I’m just a little nervous, that’s all,” I stuttered as I adjusted uncomfortably in the passenger’s seat of our rental car and continued to twist my ring around my finger. Any time I was going to do something that I wasn’t too sure about, I would start spinning my ring around my finger. It hadn’t taken long to create the habit.
Max caressed his hand across my cheek before nesting my chin between his pointer finger and thumb. Gently, he pulled my head toward him, his eyes greener than usual, glimmering with a glint of anticipation.
“She loves you just as much as I do. Think about it, babe, she’s probably in there right now, feeling the same anxiety about finally seeing her daughter again.”
I felt a rock hard bubble in my throat as I struggled to swallow. I won’t lie; it felt good when he called me Candice’s daughter. It has been ten years since I was someone’s daughter. Sure, Nancy gives me what a family is supposed to feel like, but there’s something different about belonging to someone who shares your DNA.
I turned and looked across the impeccably groomed lawn fenced with small, waxy green shrubs trimmed into a perfect train like rectangles. A cement pathway curved its way to the small but inviting porch.
“I can’t believe I’m here, in Seattle with you, getting ready to actually see her for the first time in over ten years. It almost doesn’t even seem real to me.”
Over the last six months, with Max’s and Joanie’s persistence, Candice and I have been communicating and building a relationship with the security of it being long distance. She told me that she doesn’t go by Candi anymore. That person disappeared when she became clean and sober seven years ago. I told her it’s going to take me some time to work out everything that is flying through my mind. The betrayal and pain that grew from misconstrued stories and age-old apprehensions were still very raw to me. She understood, and was willing to do whatever it took to rebuild our relationship. So we’ve been working on forgiving my grandparents for their good intentions gone bad. I’m learning to let go of the anger I feel when I think back at how much of my childhood I missed with Candice and the years I missed with my brother, Connor.
We stood on the tiny stoop infested with spider plants. Terracotta pots crowded with green and white leaves, countless shoots of matching plantlets swaying in the air as they hung from beige macramé plant holders. On the railing, a line of smaller clay pots filled with black earth, giving life to tiny bursts of miniature green and white. I looked down at the welcome mat, burnt orange and bristly, and noticed the clumps of dried mud that clung to the worn edges. Next to the mat was a small pair of muddy tennis shoes, intentionally left outside. My heart pounded as my diaphragm froze in mid breath. Those must be Connor’s shoes.
I don’t think I can knock. I’m gonna throw up,” I said, trying to breathe deeply.
Max pulled me against his chest, my nose against his silky black button-up shirt. I could smell the comfort of lavender mixed with pine. Perspiration formed across my hairline and down my neck as I felt my stomach take a somersault.
“You’re not going to be sick. Come on, Wilson, you’ve talked to your mom on the phone. You’ve read and re-read every letter she wrote to you for that last ten years. Hell, we’ve even Skyped with her. I think you are stronger than you know. Take a deep breath. You’ve come this far,” Max whispered before he pressed his lips against the top of my head.
“You’re right, I can do this,” I said as I pulled the door knocker back and slammed it against the hollow door three times. My heart climbed up my throat and clogged my airway.
Six months ago my family consisted of just Joanie and me…now with the turn of a knob, and a door being opened, everything will come full circle and change my life forever….again.