But my conscience wouldn’t let me do it. My belly was getting bigger by the day, and I felt little flutters sometimes. That part was pretty wild. Whether she was yours or someone else’s, it didn’t seem right to punish her for it.
So, I kept her and prayed and prayed and prayed that God would help me get clean.
I promise you, I tried. But I don’t know how to survive without the drugs. I hate myself for it. I hope you don’t hate me for it too. Every day the guilt pushes me to keep using. If I die, I deserve it.
Sunny doesn’t deserve it though. That’s what I named her. Sunny River Moore. Isn’t that beautiful? I knew if you got to vote, you’d pick that one. Her name makes me think about the happiest moments of my life.
Oh, I guess I also need to tell you that I’m going by Tracy Moore now. Dad said something about “never being able to get away from him,” so the first thing I did when I left was file to change my name. Honestly, I was right surprised the judge allowed it. I hate the name Tracy, but I figured I’d remember to respond to it since it sounds so close to my given name. Hope the last name is okay with you. You always said we’d be married one day.
When Sunny was born, she was having withdrawals. A lady from DSS came to talk with me about taking Sunny into foster care while I tried to get clean.
I know I’ll never get clean. Putting her in foster care might mean that one day she learns the pain of displacement and not knowing who her family is, whereas giving her up meant she could be adopted and have a family who loved her right from the start.
So, I relinquished her. It was the worst day of my life. They took my—our—daughter and with her took the last bit of hope and fight I had left in me. But I did it for her.
I took one look at her round eyes and cheek bones, and I knew she was yours. I wished with all my heart I could be more for her. Love her and take care of her for you. But I’m depending on soup kitchens for my meals these days, rubbing elbows with strangers who aren’t thinking straight. That’s not good enough for a baby. Sunny has a chance at a better life without me.
But she’s out there somewhere. I know if you get this letter, you’ll find her. You’ll make sure she’s got a family and is being well taken care of. I don’t know what’s going to happen to me. Hopefully, I’ll be fine and we will be looking for her together when you get out, but just in case, I wanted to write this and let you know.
Her name is Sunny River Moore, although if she got adopted, her last name probably changed. Her birthday is January 30th, 2009. She was born at St. John’s Hospital in the Emergency Room. Hopefully that’s all the information you need to track her down. It’s all I have.
I’d do anything to turn back time. I hope you aren’t angry with me for any of this. I’ve done the best I know how to do. I’m so sorry.
Now that Daddy’s gone, I plan to come see you soon. I miss you.
I think of you every single moment. Sometimes when I close my eyes, I can hear the river flowing and the ropes on the hammock creaking as we swing. I feel you next me and remember what your laugh sounds like when my head is on your chest. Hearing your laugh bubbling up from your heart was always one of my favorite things.
In case we never cross paths again, go on to be happy and do all the great things you were meant to do. Buy some land, start your business, have a happy family. If anyone deserves that and much more, it’s you.
Patrick Timothy Moore, you’re forever in my heart and constantly on my mind. I love you. Always have. Thank you for loving me like no one else ever has and probably ever will.
Gracie
TWENTY-EIGHT
Patrick
Iinterrupted Val’s sunbath with a snappy command. “Valiant! Come on!” He shot up and ran after me. I couldn’t get to the truck fast enough. Gracie’s ashes would have to wait for another time. I set the urn on the console and whipped the Tacoma onto the quiet street. Pretty sure Danny saw me burning rubber out the drive and thought I’d gone off the deep end.
The urn tipped as I cut the wheel right. I lurched to grab it before it rolled into the floorboard. At the stop sign, I threw the truck in park and reached behind the console, folding the urn inside my blanket for safe keeping.
I was glad I chose not to say goodbye yet. The stagnant river wasn’t right and now there was so much left undone.
I had adaughter. Wehad a daughter!
Finding her was my new mission. My hands were sweating. Actually, all of me was sweating. I bumped up the AC as dozens of thoughts battled in my mind.
What if I couldn’t find her? What if she was adopted? I had a criminal record. Surely, no adoptive parent would agree to having me around. What was she like? Did she look like me and Gracie? I considered her birthday. I had ateenageddaughter. She was going on fourteen years old. Would I have the chance to meet her?
I had a family member. Hot tears burned my eyes at the thought, and I choked on a fist of emotions lodged in my throat. The road ahead blurred.
Sunny.
What a beautiful name! I smiled and chuckled through my tears. Not sure what the other options were, but Gracie was right. I would’ve voted for that one hands down.
Anticipation and nerves swirled in my gut, producing nausea, adrenaline, the works. I didn’t even know where I was going. Rushing back to Nashville like a madman wasn’t going to find her. I hit the steering wheel with my fist and pulled into the parking lot at the Mexican restaurant.
Valiant whimpered at the window. I rolled it down for him, and his tail wagged.
