To her fourteen-year-old self, the news hadn’t been happy. Instead of the delightful fairy tale of them searching for their perfect little girl, the reality was they couldn’t be bothered togo find a child. Instead they waited until one was basically left on their doorstep.
“Oh look, Milton. A baby. We talked about having one and taking this one means we don’t have to bother with looking. One’s as good as another.”
All these years later she could hear herself screaming at her mother that Ava hadn’t really wanted her. Obviously she’d been a mistake—she and Ava were nothing alike. Victoria had told her parents they should have sent her back.
Her mother had told her not to be dramatic, but her dad had held her, promising her she was loved and wanted. But in that moment, she’d known she was just some random baby. A convenience, not a gift.
Only now she knew the truth was so much worse because her parentshadgone looking for a child. They’d found one. They’d done all the things to get their tall, blonde little girl. But the deal had fallen through, no doubt devastating her parents. Then the maid had turned up pregnant.
“She’s the one, isn’t she?” she asked, her back to her mother. “The child you wanted.” What she thought but didn’t say wasIt was never me. Because she’d known—even as a young child—that her mother didn’t love her the way other mothers loved their children. There was always a sense of something missing—no, something held back. Only not with Milton. Never with him. With him, she was sure.
After a few seconds of silence, she turned. Ava stood in the center of the pathway, her face pale, her eyes unreadable.
“We were looking to adopt,” her mother affirmed, still staring straight ahead. “It’s not an easy process. Everyone wants a baby. We met with so many young women, but it was never right. We both wanted a connection. And then we met Cindy.”
“You could have been sisters.”
Her mother looked at her then and nodded. “Yes, that’s true. We were mistaken for sisters more than once.”
“That must have made you crazy, Mom. With Shannon, you wouldn’t have had to always explain.” Because that was what her mother had done when someone commented on how different Victoria look from Ava and Milton.
Oh, she’s adopted.
“You wanted a kid that looks like you. It makes sense.” Victoria told herself she didn’t feel anything. That none of this mattered.
Ava shook her head. “You’re wrong. That wasn’t a consideration. I needed to have a relationship with the birth mother. I wanted her to be part of her baby’s life. With Cindy, I had a real connection.”
“That’s so much bullshit. You didn’t quote, unquote, have a relationship withmybirth mother. She worked for you and after she gave me to you, she left.”
Her mother flinched. “It wasn’t supposed to be like that. Everything changed.”
“When you didn’t get the baby you wanted. When you were stuck with your second choice. Because I’m not just the maid’s baby, Mom. I’m the one you took when you couldn’t have Shannon.”
A single tear rolled down her mother’s cheek, shocking Victoria. Ava never cried. She got annoyed or tired or impatient, but there were never tears.
Victoria turned away. She wanted to feel bad, but there was too much going on inside of her, too many memories filling her head. The times her mother had wanted to know why she had to be so difficult and why she couldn’t act “right.” The forever trying to make her dress differently or be less loud. Her frustration with how Victoria’s dark hair had natural waves that refused to be tamed.
They’d always butted heads about everything, but Victoria had assumed that was just natural. Now she wondered how muchdisappointment had played a role in their relationship. Because she wasn’t Shannon.
She started for the car, wanting to walk away from all she’d learned. Only with the crutches, she couldn’t move quickly, and even if she could run, she couldn’t outpace her thoughts.
Ava quickly caught up. “You’re overreacting. You’re my daughter, and I love you.”
“Do you, Mom? Do you?”
“Of course. You know that.”
“What I know is you wanted another child. A different one. A girl who looked just like you. And what you got is me. That had to be disappointing, and it explains a lot.”
Ava got in front of her and came to a stop, forcing her to do the same. “You weren’t our second choice.”
“Really? Did you lose Shannon before my birth mom came to you or after?”
Ava looked down at the ground. “Before.”
“That’s what I thought.”
She maneuvered around her and continued to hop-step toward the car. She had to get home. Once she was alone in her room, she could think. More importantly, once she was alone she could try to deal with the way her heart had been sliced open and left to bleed out. Because she’d always told herself that when it came to her relationship with her mom, it was only difficult because they were so different. That of course she was loved and wanted, and she was being dramatic to assume otherwise. Now she knew she hadn’t been wrong to wonder about the very foundation of what she’d always believed. The question was, what was she supposed to do about it now?
