Skeletons Out of the Closet

by M. Katherton

  I nodded and trudged back upstairs, doubting Mom would wake up five hours from now and magically forgive me.

  All day at school I worried about what was to come with Mom. She got home from work about 6:30 and sent Ross, Macy, and Spencer to a movie. She stayed in her bedroom for a while, presumably on the phone with Kathleen, then emerged about half an hour later while I ate a bowl of cereal for dinner at the kitchen table. She sat down across from me, clearly pissed.

  “Why did you go to Kathleen?” She asserted despite that I had already told her that it was because she herself never provided the information I needed.

  “I didn’t want to hurt you.” I mumbled, feeling smaller than Spencer’s red toy car sitting on the table.

  “So you thought going behind my back wouldn’t hurt me? I never told you about your bio dad because I wanted to protect you! He is bad news, Jessica. You have a dad. Ross is your dad. It doesn’t matter that it’s not biological. I don’t know why you can’t just accept that. I don't know why that's not good enough for you.”

  “I was just curious!” I defended. “I knew you wouldn’t tell me so I went to Kathleen. I was tired of getting shut down!”

  Mom rolled her eyes as if the accusation was untrue. “I don’t know why it matters to you. He’s nothing.”

  “But why can’t I make that choice for myself?”

  “Whatever. You have everything you need. Ross and I give you everything you need. I don’t want to hear that cliché missing piece of the puzzle story because you have everything! He was nothing but the sperm donor!”

  “You can’t tell me what I have and don’t have!” I argued, my voice cracking halfway through despite my efforts to be tough.

  “That’s bullshit, Jessica! Nothing is missing from your life! James wants nothing to do with you!” Her face heated up at mention of his name.

  “How do you know?!” I retorted, defending the man who wanted to abort me. “Maybe he changed his mind!” I thankfully caught myself before mentioning I had Facebook stalked his wife and found pictures of their baby.

  “Oh, I’m sure.” She snarked. “How about you go find him and ask him to support you? See how that goes.”

  I pressed my lips together tightly, trying to keep the tears in my eyes. Who was I kidding? She was probably right. I stared down at the table, unable to look at her.

  Mom took a deep breath and straightened up the napkin holder in the middle of the table. “Sorry.” She finally admitted after a minute of uncomfortable silence. “I had a long day at work and I’m taking it out on you. Let’s get it all out on the table now and then we can never talk about him again. What do you want to know about your sperm donor?”

  A week ago, I would have been thrilled for this opportunity to ask her questions but now I wasn’t going to humor her after she had freaked out on me. After years of walking on eggshells around her temper, I was not letting her get away with it anymore. Instead of asking how they met or how long they were together or any of the predictable absent parent questions, I sassed,

  “Why did you have sex with him if he’s such an asshole?!”

  She jolted backwards like I had slapped her across the face, her eyes wide with disbelief for a few seconds before the shock transitioned to anger.

  “That’s it! I’m done with this!” She stood up from the table, not bothering to push in her chair despite conditioning my siblings and me to do it from an early age. She stormed off to her bedroom, slamming the door dramatically behind her, providing me with a perfect example of why I had not come to her in the first place.

  Instead of going up to my room and crying about it like I had the other night, I got on my computer and searched for James Owenby’s work email. Though I believed everything Kathleen had told me, I doubted my father was actually the monster my mother claimed he was. There were two sides to every story. I pasted James' email in the recipient line and started typing, my heart pounding like I was watching a horror movie.

  Hi. My name is Jessica and I'm Vanessa Landreth's daughter. I was born in November 2001 and I think you're my father. I understand if you don't want to talk to me but I figured I would reach out to you just in case.

  Before I could chicken out, I hit send.

  Wednesday, January 23rd, 2019

  Mom indefinitely grounded me from my phone and my computer for being disrespectful but thankfully not until after I cleared the search history on both devices. She would scour through all of my texts messages and apps, hoping to dig up more reasons to punish me, but she would be sorely disappointed.

  Instead of listening to Kendra whine about whatever her minor annoyance of the day was at lunch, I went to the library to check my email. Though technically the computers were for research purposes, the two librarians were off gossiping at the service desk instead of monitoring computer usage so I logged into my email. At the top of my inbox was a response from James Owenby.

  Jessica,

  I just thought of Vanessa the other day and wondered what became of her and you. Do you still live in the DFW area? I would love to meet you for coffee or something sometime if you’re up for it.

  My hands shook over the library keyboard that was outdated ten years ago. He seemed like a nice, normal human. Maybe Mom’s story was twisted and she fed the abortion story to Kathleen and others just to make him look bad. My dad wanted to meet me. I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t know what to do. I typed out at least five different emails but finally settled on,

  I would love to meet you sometime. I’m a junior at Seaview High School. I’m pretty busy with school the next few weeks but I’ll let you know when I have time. Thanks so much for responding to my email. It means so much.

  The busy at school part was a cover up for not wanting to tell him Mom had grounded me for being disrespectful. Though I doubted he had positive feelings about my mother, I didn't want him thinking I was some brat child that refused to clean my room or do the dishes. I couldn't believe he responded. I wanted to tell someone so badly but I had no one to turn to. Kathleen would tell Mom, Kendra would want to get involved, and Ross would probably be hurt that I wanted to meet my biological dad. The anxious-excitedness bubbled up inside of me like a shaken soda can. Though everyone else in the library was doing research, playing games, or goofing off on social media like it was just an ordinary day, this was one of the most defining moments of my life so far.

  Mom refused to even look at me that night so I spent the evening alone in my room working on homework and watching TV. Ross brought me dinner: overcooked porkchops, boxed mashed potatoes, and canned green beans leftover from family dinner. I didn’t know if Mom had given him the rundown on what had happened or if he just detected she was upset and steered clear but he didn’t seem upset with me.

  “You doing okay up here?” He asked after delivering my food.

  “Yeah, thanks.”

  “Just give your mom some time. Work’s got her really stressed out right now.”

  I wished I could believe that it was solely the real estate agent life wearing Mom down. While the inconsistent schedule, long hours, and griping clients did contribute to her chronic irritability, she would probably be just as pissed at me without all of that. Mom had spent my whole life shielding me from my father and I had shattered the protective wall. Things would never be the same.

  Thursday, January 24th, 2019

  I went to the library for lunch again to check my email and once again found another unread message from James Owenby. He told me to let him know whenever I was free and included his phone number in case that was easier for me than email. Once I got my phone back, I would save it under a fake name in case Mom ever looked through my phone.

  “There you are!” Kendra’s shrill voice echoed through the quiet library, turning every head. Startled, I closed the browser, bringing back up the library home screen which was a fuzzy picture of the exterior of the school. “What are you doing? Looking at porn?”

  “No, of course not.” I whispe
red, contrasting her extra-loud volume. “My mom grounded me from my phone and my computer. Came to check my email.”

  “Oh. I thought you were mad at me. Haven’t heard from you in days.”

  “Nah, just disconnected.”

  “Come to lunch! Drake Foster brought his puppy in his backpack and it’s so cute! Plus, I have so much to tell you about Chase and Faith! They got caught skipping class and making out by the vending machines in the gym hallway. Both got suspended for a day!”

  The last thing I wanted to listen to was Kendra’s petty problems but I didn't have the stamina to fight her on it. Being on Mom’s bad side was enough. I could not have Kendra mad at me too.

  Mom took Macy and Spencer to my grandparents’ house for dinner and didn’t invite me. She would probably give Grandma and Grandpa some phony excuse about how I had to study or that I was hanging out with friends. Ross stayed home and I didn’t know if he had also done something to get on Mom’s bad list or just didn’t want to go. He heated up leftover porkchops for dinner and we ate together at the kitchen table. After his routine questions about school and my day, he confessed,

  “For whatever it’s worth, I think you deserve to know about your biological dad.”

  Not only was I shocked that apparently Mom had told him but also that he took my side. I figured he wouldn’t want me to know about my dad in fear of being replaced.

  “I tried to tell that to your mom and now she’s mad at me too.” He continued when I didn’t say anything. “I know they have quite the past and I guess that still hurts her but it’s not fair to act like he never existed. My childhood best friend was adopted and his parents withheld everything about the birth parents and it led to so much resentment later on. I don’t want to see that happen to you and your mom.”

  I nodded as a lump formed in my throat. I had to tell Ross. Maybe he would tell Mom but I honestly didn’t have much to lose at this point.

  “Can I tell you something?” My voice shook.

  Ross nodded as he took a sip of water.

  “I’ve been emailing with him. And he wants to meet me.”

  Ross’ expression shifted from calm, supportive stepfather to looking like a grizzly bear had wandered into our kitchen and started digging through the fridge. My stomach dropped, fearing he would lose it too and I wouldn’t have any allies in the house. Instead he took a deep breath and asked,

  “Are you going to meet him?”

  “There’s no plans yet. But I would like to. He seems nice through email.”

  “Are you gonna tell Mom?”

  I shook my head. After her blowup about Kathleen telling me the backstory of my father, she would never speak to me again if she found out I was meeting him.

  “I don’t know how I feel about this, Jess. I don’t know this guy. Or hardly anything about him. What if he’s dangerous?”

  “He seems harmless. I did extensive research. He’s on a bowling team, a web developer, and has a wife and infant son.”

  Ross pursed his lips, a recurring nervous habit he had passed along to Macy. “Does he want you to go to his house?”

  “No. He suggested a coffee shop or something. I wouldn’t go to his house. At least not the first time I met him.”

  “Good.”

  “I just want to make a judgment about him for myself. Mom’s biased everyone around her.”

  “That’s fair enough.” Ross nodded. “I just want you to be careful, okay? If you meet him and anything seems off, it’s okay to not see him again. Just because you share genetic material doesn’t mean you have to keep him around if something about him makes you uncomfortable. And don’t be afraid to call me if you need help or get in a pinch.”

  I nodded. “I’ll be careful. I promise. But please don’t tell Mom.”

  Ross pursed his lips again, considering my plea to conceal this sensitive information from his wife. I waited for him to tell me he couldn’t keep that from her but instead he finally said, “okay.”

  Monday, January 28th, 2019

  Mom gave back my phone and my laptop in exchange for me getting my siblings off the bus and driving Macy to dance. Mom still wasn't thrilled with me in general but shelved the silent treatment since she had to work late and needed a babysitter.

  Macy had taken dance classes since she was two and had competed on her studio’s competition team since she was six. The first few years she had been a background dancer but after some intensive camps last summer, she blossomed into one of the better dancers in the group, always in the front row. Mom constantly griped about the money and how there was so much drama with the other parents but Macy loved it so she continued to send her back.

  “Why is Mommy mad at you?” Macy inquired on the half-hour drive to her studio. Mom thought my siblings didn’t pick up on a lot of the adult conversations she had with Ross and me because they were kids but they were smarter than she gave them credit for, especially Macy.

  “It’s a long story.” I replied, not about to permanently embroider my name on Mom’s shit list.

  “Did you get a bad grade in school?”

  “No. It’s complicated grown up stuff. One day you’ll understand.”

  “I’ll be ten in May.” She bragged as if that magically made her mature.

  “I know. This is grown up stuff though. Let’s talk about something else.”

  “Fine.” She sassed, readjusting her blonde ponytail that she had already redone at least three times, exhibiting her perfectionist tendencies. Though Spencer and I were both spitting images of Mom with dark brown hair and brown eyes, Macy looked just like Ross when he was a kid with the dark blonde hair and bright blue eyes.

  I planned to just drop Macy off at the studio and Ross would come get her later tonight but as we neared the studio, she asked if I would come in and watch her rehearsal. The request caught me off guard. Sitting through a nine-year-old dance rehearsal was the last thing I wanted to do after finally getting my phone and computer back.

  “Doesn’t Mom usually just drop you off?” I asked, confused as to why Macy wanted me to come.

  “Yeah. She’s always too busy.” Her glum tone made me change my mind about lying to her about how I needed to go home and finish my homework. If two hours of my time gave Macy the validation she needed to think her dance rehearsal was important then I would suffer through it.

  Macy’s dance studio had a sitting room with a window outside the classroom for parents to watch. It was not anything like the reality show Dance Moms where the parents sat around trash talking the teacher and each other. One Mom flipped through a magazine, occasionally looking up to watch her daughter and another loudly chatted on the phone with somebody named Lori like no one else was in the room. Rebecca Mason, the mom of Macy’s best friend Zoey, sewed sequins on a costume, probably wanting Zoey to outshine all the other girls because she thought her child was the star of the studio.

  Tonight the dancers took some sort of tumbling class. Macy made the cartwheels and handstands look so easy. I didn’t know much about dance as I had never taken it myself but my sister was easily one of the best dancers on the team. She was well-rounded: great at many styles of dance and had great stage presence. However, despite her effortless gymnastics, when the teacher let the students take a break, I watched my sister perfect her handstands in the corner while the other girls chatted in groups. Usually she hung out with Zoey and her crew but I had not seen her acknowledge any of them the entire rehearsal.

  On the drive home, as Macy chugged her water bottle to rehydrate after an intense rehearsal, I fished around about why she didn’t hang out with Zoey and company anymore.

  “You looked really good out there.” I started off, despite my lacking knowledge of dance.

  “Thanks.”

  “Looks like you’re giving Zoey a run for her money.”

  Macy’s expression shifted completely at mention of Zoey’s name, confirming my suspicions that something was up. Instead of dropping the subject and quietly mention
ing it to Mom later, I pushed harder.

  “Haven’t seen her at our house in a while. Are you guys still friends?”

  “I don’t want to talk about it.” She mumbled, holding her water bottle back up to her mouth.

  After respecting my choice to not talk about my situation with Mom earlier, I let her off the hook. Despite the weirdness between Mom and me, I would talk to her about it when we got home just to make sure she was aware. If Macy was being bullied and I did nothing, I would never be able to live with myself. However, when we got home, Ross was watching TV in the living room and Mom was nowhere to be found. When Macy went upstairs to shower, Ross told me Mom had a long day at work and locked herself in her bedroom and that now was not the time to bother her. Though I could have told him about Macy’s situation, I stuck it in my back pocket for another time.

  As I got ready for bed, I connected the dots that perhaps Macy wanted me to go to her rehearsal because she wanted someone to notice something was wrong. Mom was so wrapped up in her work that I doubted she had been to dance lately and Macy was too much of a people pleaser to outright admit something was wrong. Though I had also felt a little worthless lately due to everything that happened with Mom, my little sister was counting on me to help her out which both warmed and hurt my heart at the same time.

  Tuesday, January 29th, 2019

  I didn’t know why the Macy and Zoey thing bothered me so much. Perhaps nothing happened and they had just drifted apart as friends often did. However, I doubted it was that simple when they danced together four days a week. I wished Macy would have given me more to work with but I understood that ending a friendship was painful and that talking about it was hard. When Emelia and I fell out, I didn't want to talk about it either. Mom repeatedly tried to convince me to call her and try to work through it but I knew our friendship was unrepairable.