“I don’t know. It’s confusing and I can’t think about that right now.”
The truth was that I couldn’t face her, knowing that she had spent the last fifteen years raising our child, mostly on her own. And for all of that time, she thought I was just a selfish asshole ignoring her letters and calls.She had no faith in me.
“I have to stop. My feet are killing me.”
“Well, Jesus, it’s those shoes. They’re unnatural,” I said.
She took them off and shoved them into her bag. “I know; stupid, isn’t it? The things women do in the name of high fashion.”
I put my arm around her shoulder. “You’re all right, you know that? I’m glad my brother married you. Thanks for coming out.”
She kissed me on the cheek, “I love you. Now hail me a cab, would ya? I’ve got some shopping to do.”
I flagged down a taxi and opened the door for her. She ducked her head and got in. “I’ll be at the Waldorf Astoria if you need me.”
Back at my loft I opened the envelope.
Dear Matt,
Our daughter is ten today. I said before that I wouldn’t send any more letters, but I have an important reason this time. I’m very sad to tell you that Dan is sick. He’s been having severe heart problems over the last year, and his condition is likely terminal. He so desperately wants to adopt Ash, and I’m writing to ask you if you would please consider signing over your parental rights, as you were named on her birth certificate. Ash is a wonderful child, witty and beautiful, with a great sense of humor. She is the joy of my life. I never blamed you for the choices I made a decade ago, but now I can change things for her and Dan by making it official with the adoption.
I know you’re very busy, but would you please get in touch with us?
Regards,
Grace Porter
212-555-1156
The life she led, the tragedy, despair, and rejection, was all because of me. I could have blamed Elizabeth, but it wouldn’t matter in the end because Elizabeth meant nothing to Grace. I knew that if you followed the trail of pain, it would lead to me, at least in Grace’s mind, and my pain led to her.
Staring at my phone, a question popped into my head. I shot off a text immediately.
ME: Why were you looking in the Missed Connections section?
GRACE: I wasn’t.
ME: How did you get the note?
GRACE: A student of mine recognized the title “Green-eyed Lovebird” when he was looking for his own missed connection and brought it to me.
ME: So you didn’t really want to find me? Was it just for Ash?
There was no response.
Two hours later, I was on their doorstep, wearing plaid pajama pants, slippers, and a coat. It was six p.m. and the sun was beginning to set. Ash came to the door wearing white flannel PJs with a green turtle pattern on it. She swung the door open wide and announced, “Hello, Father!”
“Hello, Daughter.”
She pointed behind her with her thumb and lowered her voice. “Should I ask if she wants to come with us?”
I shook my head. Ash looked down for a second, as if figuring out what to do, and then yelled, “Bye, Mom! Love you, be back later.”
“Love you. Be careful!” Grace yelled from the other room.
“Ready?”
“Yep.” She bounced out the door.
