When we’re comfortably seated and the waitress has taken our order, Mam sits forward in her seat, leans her elbows on the table and stares up at me. ‘Marcus, there’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you.’ She coughs awkwardly and an impending sense of dread seeps into my bones. Is she sick? Is it cancer? Is Dad ok?
‘What is, Mam? Spit it out. You’re worrying me.’ I force a laugh to insinuate that I’m joking, but the gnawing in my stomach is increasing with each passing second.
‘It’s nothing to worry about but I thought you should probably know. Given your sporting profile and fame, you won’t be hard to find and there’s a possibility you might be approached.’ Her eyes bore into mine, with a concern I can’t work out.
‘By who?’ The waitress returns with our drinks and the interruption is killing me. It seems to take light years for her to place them in front of us and move along. When she eventually does, and Mam is able to answer, it’s not the response I was imagining.
‘It’s your real family, son. They’re looking for you.’
Saliva clogs in my throat. Thirty-six years have passed, and the woman who birthed me, then gave me away without a backwards glance, is now looking for me.
Mam sits quietly observing me from across the table, waiting for some sort of response.
Swallowing my shock, I ask, ‘Did someone contact you directly or through the agency?’
Mam closes her menu and places it gently on the table. ‘Does it matter? I said I’d run it by you and get in touch if you’re interested in reconnecting.’ She reaches across the table, her frail hand patting mine. ‘You know, son, your dad and I won’t be offended in the slightest if you want to find your real family.’
A growl rumbles in the hollowest part of my chest. ‘Youaremy real family.’
She pats my hand again and nods once in acceptance. ‘It’s natural to be curious about where you came from. Whatever you decide, you’ll always be my son.’
‘The decision was made the second she left. I’d rather not talk about it anymore, if you don’t mind.’
The waitress returns to collect our order and thankfully, that’s the end of that conversation.
