Lost & Found

by Raquel De Leon

  Their eyes met. Selma gently squeezed her arm. She could never fully understand what Piper was going through, but she could imagine, just a little.

  “I'll let you know when I'm ready,” Piper finally finished, green eyes a little unfocused.

  As Selma searched for something to say, a gruff voice sounded from further in the house. “Supper's ready! Let's get to the table, children!”

  Both women chuckled as Piper stood up and motioned for Selma to do the same.

  As Selma sat down at the table and observed how comfortable Piper was with the Tates, she was glad to confirm that Piper wouldn’t be going through this without support. She hoped she could be of some help, too.

  Chapter 3

  Piper was pacing in the kitchen. The previous night inviting Selma over to talk more had seemed like a good idea. There were lots of things she still wanted to know but hadn't had the courage to ask in front of Dot and Mark. Some could only be answered by her biological parents—but the thought of speaking to them so soon was terrifying.

  Selma was at least nice and somewhat familiar. She wasn't nearly as scary as the thought of meeting Karen and Derek, though Piper had a feeling Selma could be intimidating when she wanted to be.

  Mark walked into the kitchen, almost immediately choking back laughter.

  Piper frowned at him. “What are you laughing at, pipsqueak?” She shot him a fake glare.

  He grinned. “Why are you so nervous?”

  “Me? Nervous? I'm not nervous, I don't know what you mean.” Her voice was several octaves too high.

  Mark rolled his eyes. “Suuuure.” He examined Piper carefully, his cheeks flushed. “Is it 'cause Miss Flores is really pretty?”

  Piper's face twisted in confusion. “What? No. I mean, not that she's unattractive, but no. It's more the thought that if I'm talking to her I might be talking to… Karen and Derek soon.” She couldn't bring herself to call them her parents. She hummed to herself and sent Mark a sly look. “So you think Miss Flores is pretty?”

  He scowled. “I didn’t say that!”

  “I… You—” Piper gaped at him, wondering when he was going to get over his embarrassment over noticing pretty women. It was Miss Houston all over again.

  Mark puffed up his chest. “But she’s not bad looking.”

  “Yeah, okay, sure.” She rubbed her face as she did her best to suppress her irritation.

  He blew a raspberry in her direction. “No wonder you’ve never had a girlfriend.”

  Piper stuck out her hand. “Whoa, wait, no. I’ve totally had a girlfriend. Besides, what do you know? Let’s talk about something else.” She mussed his hair in an effort to distract him.

  Mark playfully smacked her hand away, rolling his eyes. “Fine. You big chicken.” He sighed and walked over to the refrigerator. “So what are you making for lunch?”

  Piper stilled. “Lunch?”

  “Yeah, you invited her over for lunch. What are you making? And did you get Dottie's permission? I thought you were banned after setting that pot of boiling water on fire. I didn't even think that was possible.” His face grew thoughtful, as if he was pondering the wonders of the universe.

  “Ugh, your level of curiosity seriously scares me, kid. Besides,” she coughed, “technically it only caught on fire because there was paper stuck to it. Crap,” her green eyes widened in horror. “You think she likes peanut butter and jelly?”

  Mark burst into laughter. Piper scowled.

  Before Piper could come up with a better plan, there was a knock at the door.

  “Crap,” she repeated. She was frozen to the spot. Mark grinned at her and dashed out of the kitchen. Piper grudgingly followed, needing to be sure it wasn’t some paparazzo.

  “Who is it?” Mark called loudly through the wood of the door.

  “Selma Flores,” came the muffled response.

  The door abruptly opened and Mark grinned up at Selma. “Do you like peanut butter and jelly?”

  Selma didn’t bat an eye. “Oh yes, of course. My son loves it. We have it as a special treat now and then.” She entered the cottage, the motion of removing and hanging her coat a habit after a couple of visits.

  Mark eyed her speculatively. “Piper thinks you’re pretty.”

  The blood drained from Piper’s face. Though she'd noticed how nice Selma looked in today's white blouse and tapered gray slacks, that had been a cursory acknowledgement. “You’re the one that—” she snapped her jaw shut, not wanting to say the wrong thing.

  To her relief, Selma only laughed and sent her a wink.

  The blood came rushing back to Piper’s cheeks. She cursed her pale complexion that made blushes really stand out. Silently, she vowed to get Mark back.

  Selma put her hands on her thighs and leaned towards Mark, scrunching her face in curiosity. “Are you going to be making the peanut butter and jelly sandwiches?”

  Mark’s cheeks flushed as he looked away. “Um.”

  Piper felt a small moment of victory and raised her hand. “I can do at least that much.”

  Selma laughed again. “I look forward to it.”

  “Okay.” Mildly abashed, Mark looked back at her. “So, you have a son?”

  Piper was glad he’d asked; the revelation had also made her curious

  “Yes, that’s right.” An odd look crossed Selma’s face, and then she cleared her throat. “Shall we go find our peanut butter and jelly?”

  Mark smiled at her and then grabbed her by the hand, leading her to the kitchen. Piper trailed several paces behind, wondering at his apparent confidence. He was still barely functional around Miss Houston, even after almost a full school year.

  As soon as they were in the kitchen, Mark turned to Selma. “You can sit next to me.”

  Piper snorted and tried not to roll her eyes. “Smooth move, kid.”

  Selma laughed. “It's alright, Piper.” She quirked an eyebrow. “So, why peanut butter and jelly?”

  Mark piped up. “She's not allowed to use the stove since she caught a pot of boiling water on fire.”

  “Well, that is a feat indeed.” Selma pursed her lips. “You must get that from Karen. The cook barred her from the kitchen twice for causing the toaster to spontaneously combust.”

  Mark laughed hard but Piper only smiled. There was an odd feeling in the pit of her stomach. She rubbed her forehead. “Let me make those PB&Js.” She made a point not to look directly at Selma, instead gathering the ingredients to put the sandwiches together.

  Out of the corner of her eye, she watched as Mark grabbed Selma’s hand and guided her to the breakfast nook, and by extension, the dining table. She wondered what Selma thought of the lightly scarred wood; the table and matching chairs had certainly seen better days.

  “So how old is your son?” Mark asked as soon they were sitting.

  Selma gave him a warm smile. “Four.”

  He chewed on his lower lip. “Are you married to his dad?”

  Selma opened and closed her mouth. She sent Piper a discomfited glance. “Ben lost both his parents when he was very young. I took him in and eventually adopted.”

  Mark's dark eyes went wide. “Your son is adopted?” He gulped. “He's so lucky.”

  Piper could almost see Selma melt, her expression becoming affectionate. “We’re lucky to have each other.”

  Uncomfortable with the forlorn look on Mark’s face, Piper focused on putting the finishing touches on their sandwiches.

  “Dottie says that when I'm a little older I can decide if I want to be adopted,” Mark said quietly.

  Piper broke the mood, striding over to the table and setting two sandwich-laden plates down. “The finest peanut butter and jelly sandwiches this kitchen has ever seen!” she pronounced.

  Selma hadn't said anything wrong, but Piper could remember all too well how broken she'd felt when other kids had been adopted and she hadn't. After so much rejection, she’d denied Dottie’s offer of adoption when she was fifteen. She hadn’t needed to be adopted t
o be a part of this family and, at eighteen, had legally changed her name to Piper Tate.

  She went to grab her own plate and sat opposite of the quiet pair. “So, I was thinking that I'd like to bring Mark with me when I meet my—Karen and Derek for the first time.”

  Mark immediately perked up, eyes wide. “Really?”

  Selma gave her an encouraging smile. “That sounds like a wonderful idea.”

  Mark whipped his head to look back and forth between Selma and Piper, still in disbelief.

  “That’s right, Mark. I mean, none of us would know I was… who I am if it wasn’t for you.” Piper made a point to smile.

  “I'm sure Karen and Derek would love to thank you,” Selma added.

  Mark's mood was boosted, and he tucked into his sandwich with gusto. Both Piper and Selma chuckled at his enthusiasm, their eyes briefly meeting. Piper cleared her throat and focused on eating her sandwich.

  After they finished, they sat quietly.

  The quiet proved too much for Mark. “I'm going to go read. My book is getting really good. Later!”

  He stomped off rapidly, and it seemed Selma couldn't help but smile. “He's certainly something else.”

  Piper chewed her lip nervously, “Yeah, he's great.” She rubbed her face with one hand. “Listen, I don't know when I'm going to be ready. I've been thinking about it a lot. They’re strangers and I… don’t need anymore parents.”

  Selma tapped her lip with the tip of her index finger. “I don't want to try and force you to do something you don't really want to do. They don't want to pressure you either. However, I want you to know they're good people.” She tucked some hair behind her ear and straightened. “When I was fourteen, my mother and I started having some problems. When it seemed like things were irreparable between us, she was going to send me away to boarding school on the other side of the country. Your parents were friends of the family and volunteered to take me in so I wouldn't have to move away from everything I'd ever known.”

  Piper restlessly ran a hand through her hair and her leg started to bounce. “That does sound nice of them. I just don't know.” Her breathing grew erratic. “Maybe I'm a little more scared that they won't like me.” Against her better judgement, she and Shelly had looked up her biological parents online. Intimidated didn't begin to describe how the Berings’ accomplishments made her feel.

  Selma reached over the table and brought a hand to rest on Piper's forearm. “Piper, take a deep breath.”

  The warm weight of the hand distracted Piper from her panic. She did as instructed and the world felt just a little steadier.

  “Don't worry about getting to know them as parents—how about you just start off like any other people wanting to make new friends? Perhaps we can arrange for you all to do something together or go somewhere everyone likes the first time.”

  Piper's breathing had slowed almost to normal. “Yeah, maybe. Will you be there too? You're kind of at least a bit familiar.”

  “If that's what you want,” Selma agreed with a nod.

  “Mark has spring break in a week and a half. Maybe we might try sometime then. Dottie will probably be okay with that.” Piper watched Selma intently, trying to discern if it would really be alright.

  “I'm sure we can figure something out,” Selma replied. The corners of her mouth were turned up in a small smile.

  The thought of meeting the Berings was still terrifying but, as Selma’s hand lingered on her arm, Piper thought that maybe it wouldn’t be so bad.

  *****

  Selma had barely walked through the door of her spacious townhouse when her phone went off. She frowned at the unfamiliar number but dutifully answered. “Selma Flores,” she said in a professional tone.

  “Miss Flores, this is Dorothy Tate.”

  Her eyebrows arched. “Yes, Mrs. Tate? How can I be of assistance?”

  “I'm afraid we've had a bit of a problem with those reporters.”

  Selma frowned. “Please, go on.”

  “Piper tried to head out of the house today. Seems like they were waiting. They crowded her in and blocked her car. I’m afraid she had a bit of an anxiety attack.”

  “Oh, no. Is she alright?”

  “Yeah. She had the presence of mind to give me a call before it got too bad.”

  “Good, I’m glad she’s alright.” Selma pinched the bridge of her nose. “I would say I can’t believe they’d do something like that but I’d be lying.” Selma sighed. “Did you call the police?”

  “Yes, of course.” There was an audible pause. “I don’t know if you’re aware of her history, but Piper really doesn’t respond well with things like that.”

  Selma nibbled at the inside of her cheek, knowing the understatement for what it was. “I… did rather thorough research before contacting Piper,” she said carefully.

  Dottie sighed. “Then you know. It could have been worse. You’ve got to do something about this, please.”

  “You’re right. This situation is completely unacceptable. I assure you that I will do my utmost to ensure this doesn’t happen again, at least around your home.” Selma felt a pang, wishing she could promise more.

  “Good,” Dottie's said gruffly. “Then I’ll leave it to you. Goodbye.”

  Selma murmured her own farewell and then lowered her phone. She tapped away at it for a few minutes, smiling as her efforts proved fruitful.

  Another few minutes later, she dialed a number.

  “Mayor Trimby’s office, how may I direct your call?”

  Selma was back in business mode. “Yes, this is Selma Flores and I’m an attorney calling on behalf of Karen and Derek Bering.”

  Even a state away, she knew the names would be recognized. Karen and Derek were very involved in politics.

  “Just one moment, please.”

  She smiled to herself, satisfied in the knowledge that she was about to get Piper’s problem fixed.

  “Mayor Trimby speaking.”

  “Yes, Mayor Trimby. My name is Selma Flores, the Berings’ family attorney. First I'd like to thank you for taking the time to speak to me. I’m not sure if you’re aware, but there’s been a recent turn of events that may be putting one of your constituents at risk…“

  Thirty minutes later the call was over and Selma was grinning.

  She’d been lucky to find the obscure ordinance that was rarely enforced, but Mayor Trimby had been quite amenable to making sure that would change. Thanks to overaggressive panhandlers in the 70’s, non-residents weren’t allowed to loiter in private neighborhoods.

  Emergency taken care of, Selma went about putting her things away. She should call Karen, have Ben brought back over.

  She took her phone out and hesitated, dialing a new number instead of pressing Karen’s speed-dial.

  “Piper,” came the flat greeting.

  Selma softened her voice. “Piper, it's Selma. I just wanted to call and check on you. Dorothy called me earlier to explain what happened.”

  A loud breath was expelled into the phone. “I'm alright. I just really, really wanted to punch those guys but I knew I couldn’t. They pissed me off.”

  A half smile tugged at Selma’s lips. “Well, I'm glad you didn't. They would have had a field day with you if you'd lost your temper and hit one of them.”

  “How the hell do they get away with crap like that all the time? I feel a little sorry for celebrities now. I mean, sure they live in the public eye, but what about human decency?” Piper sounded more than a little frustrated.

  Selma hummed. “Yes, well. The assumption there is that those vultures are a) human and b) decent. I'm afraid most in that line of work fall short in both areas.”

  Piper snorted.

  “I did want to let you know that, at least around your home, that shouldn’t be a problem anymore. Unless some wanna-be-reporter wants to get arrested.”

  She heard Piper draw in a sharp breath.

  “Thank you so much. I don't think Mark really understood the consequences of
his actions when he sent that letter in, and he was freaked out when he heard what happened. I hate to make the kid feel worse, you know? Plus… it'll probably keep me from being arrested for assault.”

  Selma laughed. “Well, if you do have trouble with the law, please do remember my number. I'm licensed to practice in your state.”

  “Will do. I have to get back to work now, Shelly's giving me the evil eye. Thanks again!”