by Gail Haris
We’re seated immediately and I’m grateful for the glass of water the waitress brings. Mrs. Jenkins carries most of the conversation, while Richard and Melissa smile at me misty-eyed. She’s done her research on me as she fills them in on what a bright student I am and my extracurricular activities. When she’s finished, she asks the Randalls to tell me about my siblings.
“You have two brothers and a sister. Trent is the oldest, he’s twenty-one, Landon is barely a year younger than you, and Denise, the baby, is fourteen. Well, she’s not a baby but the baby of y’all.” Melissa grins at me.
I’m not sure how to respond. Awesome? Okay? That’s cool? I nod and take another sip of water.
“You favor Landon so much. Doesn’t she look like Landon, Richard?”
Richard nods and smiles. “You’re definitely a Randall.”
What does that mean?
Melissa reaches in her bag and pulls out an envelope. Her hands quiver slightly as she lifts the flap. She pulls out a photo and hands it to me.
Three strangers smile back at me. Stretching across the table, her manicured nail points to each head as she says, “Trent, Landon, and that’s Denise.”
I examine each face. Trent is definitely what I would picture as a big brother. Even from this photo I can tell he’s strong and his hazel eyes look so tender and caring. I give Melissa a shy smile as I tell her, “He looks like you.”
Pride beams in her eyes as she smiles. “He does. He looks identical to my father. Your grandfather. Dad passed away, but I can show you photos. I have one of him holding you.”
I nod and stare into the brown eyes of what would look like me as a skinny boy. His smile is so wide that I can’t help but smile back at the photo. We do favor each other. If I had brown eyes, short hair, and no curves. We favor so much in appearances, that I wonder if we have other similar traits. This must be Landon.
The final sibling in the photo is Denise. No doubt she’s going to grow up to be a gorgeous woman. She’s a tiny little thing here with braces. However, she has lots of Melissa’s features.
“That’s a year-old photo. Denise doesn’t have braces anymore. And Trent’s even bigger, if you can imagine that? Landon still looks about the same.” She gives a short chuckle. “He’s such a mess.”
Richard groans in agreement. The two smile at each other and then turn their eyes back on me. A sadness has crept into their eyes.
I hand the photo back to Melissa but she holds a hand up. “Keep it. I have some more for you to have. Some of you when you were a baby.” She hands me the envelope. “And some of your brothers and sister.”
“They’d love to meet you.” Richard gives me a hopeful smile.
Mrs. Jenkins clears her throat. “Richard? You work in construction?”
“Yes. I own a construction company, Randall Construction. I also design homes as well as build them…I-” Richard gives a short laugh. “I’m sorry. I’m so nervous right now.”
“It’s alright. Take your time. This is a big moment for everyone.” Mrs. Jenkins gives him a reassuring smile.
“Your father is very talented. He has designed some gorgeous buildings, not only in Lumberton, but in surrounding cities. He’s a very talented artist.”
I smile. “I enjoy art. I’d love to see some of your designs.”
Richard’s eyes turn glassy. “I’d love nothing more than to show you.” A shy smile spreads across his face as Melissa pats his shoulder.
“Melissa? You bake from your home, is that correct?”
“Yes. I love to bake. It’s more of a hobby, but I get quite a few orders for pies, cakes, and cookies for the school. You know, little things.”
“Don’t be modest. You’ve done some amazing birthday and wedding cakes.”
“Oh, Richard. You’re the artist here.” She looks to me and smiles. “Your father is a smart man. He knows to compliment where his meals are coming from.”
I giggle at the two of them.
So these are my parents. They seem nice enough, but they’re trying to get me to live with them also.
Richard leans forward on his elbows. “Honey, we want you to come home. More importantly, we want you to want to come home.”
I look to Mrs. Jenkins. She smiles reassuringly.
You’re definitely a Randall. Maybe it’s time to find out what that means.
When I return home, Uncle Brad and Noah have left. Noah has school and they couldn’t miss their flight. Aunt Andrea must’ve already known I’d be leaving as well, if her somber mood is any indication. There’s so much I want to say, but Mrs. Jenkins didn’t leave as I had expected her to. Instead, she followed me in, offering to help any way she could. A part of me suspects she’s there to ensure my safety in returning me to the Randalls. She’s been pleasant, but her eyes watch Aunt Andrea carefully.
“Don’t worry. I’m going to get everything situated here.” Aunt Andrea tells me. She already has empty boxes in the kitchen.
“I can’t fit all of my stuff in a suitcase.”
“Do you want me to ship it to you? Any of your friends here that you want to give anything to?”
“I’ll leave a box for Angie, if you don’t mind?”
“Of course not. I don’t mind at all.”
We take a moment to just stare at each other. Mrs. Jenkins gently places a hand on my shoulder.
“We need to get your bags packed.”
Once my suitcase and carry-on are full, Mrs. Jenkins tells me she’ll see me bright and early in the morning. She assures me the Randalls will provide everything I will need and not to worry about whether I packed enough clothes or anything else.
I find Aunt Andrea still in the kitchen packing away plates and glasses. “What are you going to do with everything?”
“AH!” I giggle as Aunt Andrea grabs her chest. “You scared me to death! Whew. Let me catch my breath.” She grabs another plate and wraps brown paper around it. “I think most of everything I’ll try to sell. What doesn’t sell, I’ll donate. These plates were our mother’s, so I’m keeping them. I have a woman that’s supposed to do an estate sale or whatever. I don’t even have to pack the stuff. People will come in, buy it, and take it.”
“That’s easy enough.”
“Yeah, I thought so too.”
There’s an awkward pause between us. We never have these. I want to cry and tell her I’ve changed my mind; I’m going to live with her. But, a part of me is excited for this new family, new life.
“I guess you need to get some rest. Early flight tomorrow. Big day.” I hear the slight crack in her armor. She’s trying so hard to be strong right now.
“Wanna watch a movie? In my room? Before…before we go to bed?”
She smiles and narrows her eyes. “Depends…” Aunt Andrea grabs another plate and tilts her head at me as she wraps it. “What movie are you thinkin’?”
“Pretty in Pink?”
“You got yourself a date. I’ll be in there in just a minute.”
I rush to my room and get the movie ready. While I wait for her to finish with the plates, I take out the journal.
March 20
I saw Michael the other day. He was with her. His new blushing bride. I can’t believe he got married so soon. After all we’d been through!
What’s worse is they had a baby. A tiny little girl wrapped in a blanket that had “Karlie” sewn on it.
He must’ve ran right into her arms after me. She gave him a baby right away. That was supposed to be me. That was supposed to be us. But here I am smelling of greasy cheese and pepperoni. I couldn’t help myself so I blurted out that I was expecting as well. I have a rounding belly but not from a baby. It’s from weeks of alcohol, fast food, and lack of exercise. Lack of anything really, except alcohol.
After seeing their disgusting public display of affection and happiness, I drove by the Randall house again.
And there she was.
There she was.
Melissa was pushing her in a stroller as
Trent rode his bike. Right on schedule. Melissa is such a creature of habit. She’s also so self-absorbed. What’s funny is I made it into a picture that she took and posted it on her MySpace page. Her selfie with the kids while walking shows me in my car parked on the corner of the Randall’s street. I think I’ll print it and save it.
It’s my first photo with my new baby girl, after all.
THE NEXT DAY, I HUG Angie and Aunt Andrea goodbye.
“You better not forget about me. Call me soon and tell me all about your family. And tell me about your brothers. Are they hot?”
“Ew. Angie…don’t make this awkward.”
“Hate to break it to you, but it’s already going to be awkward. Send me pics asap of them.” She’s so boy crazy. I roll my eyes. “And tell me all about your new school. I want to hear all the deets as soon as you get home.”
“Alright you two,” Aunt Andrea waves me and Angie apart. “Come on, Luv Bug, before you miss your flight.”
I hug Aunt Andrea again. “I guess I’ll see you in Missouri.” Her only response is to hug me tighter.
I follow Mrs. Jenkins to her car. On the way to the airport she asks, “Do you want them to call you Olivia?”
I’m surprised by her question. Do I?
“Olivia was Cindy’s daughter. I’m going to try and be Melissa and Richard’s daughter. Sarah Randall is who I was meant to be.”
“You are who you’re meant to be. Be you.”
Be me? I don’t even know who I am.
“I’ll be that person when I figure it out. For now, I’m going to try and move on as Sarah Randall.”
Mrs. Jenkins parks the car. The Randalls are waiting for us at the door. She hugs me goodbye and tells me to keep in touch.
I’m seated on a plane in between Richard and Melissa Randall. This is my first plane ride, and I’m disappointed that my first experience is under such bizarre circumstances.
“Doing alright?”
I don’t turn to look at Richard. I keep my head low and nod. I mean, I think I’m holding myself together pretty well considering I’m seated between two strangers that I’m going to live with.
“Do you like to read?”
I nod. Richard reaches into his satchel and pulls out a tablet and hands it to me. “There’s a few mysteries on there.” I take the tablet and can barely hear him mumble, “A few fantasy ones as well.”
I smile and watch his cheeks grow a little pink. “I like fantasy.”
My life seems more like a mystery right now than reality. I swipe the tablet screen but I don’t really look at the titles. I mostly want to distract myself. I wonder if this wasn’t my current situation, where would my first plane ride take me? I see a book cover with a castle. Maybe I’d be on my way to Scotland. Or a castle in Germany. Another cover shows a cityscape. New York City? Los Angeles? Wouldn’t those be amazing places to visit. Never would I have dreamed it would be to Lumberton, Missouri that my first flight would take me. No matter how hard I try to daydream about different circumstances, I still slam back to my reality. Cindy had lived in the same town as my biological parents that she kidnapped me from.
Kidnapped.
Cindy Stevens is not my mother, but had been my captor. I still love her. I hurriedly glance over at Melissa, afraid she might have heard that last thought. I feel like I’m an accomplice to my own kidnapping, which is ridiculous since I wasn’t even a year old. Did I cry for my real parents or did I just immediately take to Cindy? Real parents…Cindy was like a real mom.
Oh no. I’m about to start crying again. I wipe the tear away. I haven’t had the courage to discuss my kidnapping with the Randalls, and they haven’t brought it up. I might learn answers by reading the journal. Once I finish reading it, then I’ll turn it in to the authorities. Maybe.
The captain announces we’re getting ready to land. I hand Richard back his tablet. The plane begins its descent, and I feel my stomach plummet to my feet. I sit on my hands to try and stop them from shaking, but that only draws my attention to how much my legs are shaking. I swallow hard and try to calm my nerves before I vomit everywhere.
I need air. I need to get off this plane. I need air. It’s too crowded. I can’t breathe. I can’t breathe!
A firm hand touches my shoulder. I look at the hand and my eyes follow up the arm to Richard. His eyes soften and he gives me a small smile.
“It’s okay.”
I can only nod as I try to take deep, calming breaths. He nods and gently squeezes my shoulder before dropping his hand. Melissa takes my hand in hers and soothes.
“That’s it. Breathe in and out. It’s going to be okay now. You’re going home.”
Home? Home is the other way. I’m going to a house with strangers. People begin to slowly make their way out of the plane. She nods and gestures for me to get out of my seat.
“When you’re ready sweetheart. I know this is overwhelming.”
I try to stand but fall back down. People are pushing and shuffling their way down the narrow aisle of the plane. Richard uses his body as a shield to give me an opening. This time I make my way into the aisle but immediately I regret it. I feel more claustrophobic than I did before. The pushing and shuffling seems to last forever. I need air. I need to get off this plane. I need air. I need space. I feel the hand on my shoulder and turn to receive a nod from Richard. He’s behind me now and keeping some distance between us. I at least have a little bit of breathing room now. Slowly, ever so slowly, we approach the flight attendants thanking us for flying with them. As soon as I step off the plane and into the terminal, I exhale a sigh of relief, but I’m still nervous as to what I’m getting off the plane to. I have never felt more alone than I do right now.
LUMBERTON, MISSOURI DOESN’T HAVE ITS own airport, so we have a thirty-minute drive after we land. I look out the window and absorb all my new surroundings. It’s a drastic change from the mountains of Colorado. There’s hills and trees until we enter the city limits of Lumberton. The land is flat with farm fields for as far as the eye can see.
I stare in awe at the beautiful neighborhood we’ve entered. Any one of these houses could hold three of the house I grew up in. We drive around a curve and pull into the driveway of a pink brick mansion with four huge white columns. The house is beyond gorgeous with two elegant iron front doors, several balconies, huge windows, and every fine detail shouts elegance. I can only imagine what the inside will hold. I don’t want to exit the car.
I don’t know these people. This is nothing like what I grew up knowing. I want to find Aunt Andrea and go live with her.
What if my brothers and sister won’t like me? They’re probably snooty. They won’t accept me. They’re probably ashamed or disappointed with me.
“We’re here,” Melissa sings.
I contemplate locking the door as Richard and Melissa exit the car with smiling faces. But I don’t lock the doors. I gulp and open the door. I step out into the sunshine and birds chirping. Melissa takes me in her arms again, hugging the breath out of me. Richard gets my luggage and rolls it to us.
He gently nudges his wife and whispers, “She’s home. We won’t lose her again.”
She’s home.
The words feel heavy. This is it. This is my new home. Right now, it looks like a mansion that I’d never imagine as somewhere I’d live, but maybe it will come to feel like home.
That thought evaporates into a puff of smoke as I enter the foyer. The house alone makes me feel like an outsider, never mind the fact that I don’t recognize the name Sarah as me and I know nothing of these people. I may be their child, but I’ve never felt so uncomfortable in a house before. And this is to be my home?
The entryway is all marble with a huge brass chandelier hanging from the ceiling. There are two marble staircases with the most beautiful, elegant iron railings I’ve ever seen. There are three large, open entryways that lead to other areas of the house: one straight ahead that looks to lead to a grand formal living room, one to my left that seem
s like a longer hallway, and one to my right that I can see is a formal dining room in the distance. They lead me toward the left side of the house. This hallway is covered with family photos. I pause when I see a professional photo of a young dark-haired boy holding a baby girl.
The baby girl has wispy blond hair and is wearing a white frilly dress. I’ve never seen a photo of myself so young, but I know that’s me. Next to that photograph are a few more framed photographs of me. Some of me by myself, some are me with a very young Melissa and Richard, and one of them with me and the small dark-haired boy.
I jump when Melissa’s voice is so close to my ear. “I wished we’d taken more photos of all of us together.”
I’m left speechless. What can I say to that?
“I have your shadowbox in my bedroom. The outfit you were brought home from the hospital in and the newspaper clipping welcoming you into the world.”
I still don’t reply. I don’t know what I can say to this woman who is my mother but is also a stranger.
She takes both of my hands in hers, looking me straight in the eyes as she speaks. “She may have taken you from this house, but you’ve always been part of this family. A lot of time was taken from us, but no amount of time nor distance could ever make you any less my daughter. You’re family. And I plan on making up for that time.” Her eyes become glassy. “I can’t wait to fill up these walls with memories of my beautiful daughter with her siblings.”
Richard clears his throat and gestures for us to continue down the hall. “We have time, honey. Let’s not overwhelm her more.”
Melissa gives my hands a little squeeze and shake before releasing them. We enter a very cozy den that’s decorated in a very rustic theme. There’s a large red brick fireplace with a deep brown-colored mantel. In front of the fireplace is a large, dark leather sectional, and the three individuals from the photographs sitting there, looking as awkward as I feel.
“We’ll give you a recap of who everyone is again.” Melissa whispers and winks.
