Missing Pieces of My Forever-Heart

by Janet Grosshandler

  “Maddie didn’t know where I went. No one did. My parents wanted to keep it a secret.”

  “Where did you go? I wondered about that like crazy.”

  “I’m not getting into the whole story. So why do you need to see me? What information do you think I can give you?”

  “I’d like to know where and when he was born, do you know his name, and what adoption agency you used.”

  “Why? What would you do with that information if you had it?”

  “I don’t know. But I have no other children. He’s my only one. Hopefully I’d be closer to finding him. He’s what, 26-years-old now? God, I don’t even know his birthday. Maybe he’s old enough to decide he wants to know us.”

  “He was 26 on January 1st. I had him in Tallahassee, Florida. I used the county adoption agency. His adoptive parents named him Michael.”

  Then I saw something I had never seen before in my life. Jame Patterson had tears in his eyes that were spilling over.

  “Oh God. Oh God, Cath. Just like that?”

  “What do you mean- just like that?”

  “You knew all this.”

  “Yeah, Jame, I was there, remember?”

  “How do you know that they named him Michael?”

  The photos in the white box in my attic burned my conscience then.

  “I just know.”

  “OK, OK. This is great. This is wonderful. Thank you so much, Cath. Thank you.”

  “And what are you going to do with this information, Jame?”

  “I’m not sure. Have a lawyer look into it or a private investigator.”

  “What? How dare you intrude on his life! He isn’t searching for you or me. He has a life. Leave it alone, Jame.”

  “I can’t, Cath.”

  “Why the hell not?”

  “I have cancer.”

  His revelation stunned me. I lost my breath, choking and gulping it in.

  “What? Cancer? Oh, Jame? Oh, God.” I started to cry.

  “Wait! Wait! No, no, no.” Jame ran over to my side of the table and gathered me in his arms. The years of pain and disillusionment and sadness erupted in a torrent of tears that I just couldn’t stop. Jame held me tight and murmured, “Please, Cath. Please, Cath. Please, Cath, don’t cry.”

  I cried for the 18-year-olds that we were, for our parents who did the best they could for their children, and I cried especially for our son, that innocent little boy that I, we, gave away because we didn’t know how much that action would affect our lives forever.

  The years melted away as Jame cried with me, wiping away my tears with his fingers, sitting forehead-to-forehead as we did many years ago.

  “No, no. Cath. I’m not that sick. I’m in the beginning stages of melanoma cancer, but there’s all this protocol for it now so I’m pretty sure I’m going to be fine.”

  “Yeah?”

  He laughed and smoothed my hair behind my ears like he used to do. “Yeah, Cath, I‘ll be all right. But hearing ‘cancer’ made me stop dead in my tracks. It really cranked up my imagination about maybe my only son wanted to meet me and I could finally connect with him and get to know him. I realize this might never happen, but I just got this fire in me to find out all I could, which wasn’t much, and I knew you’d be the key to unlock that door for me. Michael, huh?”

  “Yes, Michael.” I stood up. “I think you need to come home with me, Jame. I have something to show you.”

  Chapter 26

  The dusty white box sat on my kitchen table between us.

  Jame sat there cradling the steaming cup of coffee in his long graceful hands. His basketball player hands and ones I held so many times so many years ago. A niggling feeling of worry crept around my heart as I sat awash in too many memories. Maybe I shouldn’t have brought him here.

  He should at least see the photos. But then he’ll get even more focused on finding Michael. But he has cancer and this is his only child. But he never was a father in any sense of the word. Back and forth like a ping-pong ball, my thoughts ricocheted around my mind.

  I took a drink of coffee wishing it was something stronger and opened the box. Jame watched me quizzically, not sure what this was about.

  “I’m not doing this because I feel that you deserve this. You walked out on me and our baby and left us to fend for ourselves. It was the goodness and the money of my family, especially my cousins that got me through all this.”

  He nodded his head gravely. “And I will never be able to make up for that. I was a selfish kid, high on himself and believing his own hype about how he was God’s gift to basketball.”

  “Yeah, well you did pretty well there at Rice, I heard. I don’t know that personally. It hurt too much to watch you on TV.”

  “Yeah, but I also broke every promise I made to you.”

  Come on Cath. Keep it together. He’s finally saying the things you wanted to hear from him. “Yes you did. And that was unforgivable.”

  “I don’t expect forgiveness. Hell, I don’t deserve forgiveness. I just appreciate you talking to me and helping me find our son.”

  “I’m NOT helping you find our son. “

  “My lawyer advised me to put my name on all the websites like the National Adoption Registry and a bunch of others. Some are probably bogus but I didn’t care. I’ve been on all their websites for weeks now. Maybe a contact will come out of that.”

  “Yes, but you said something about hiring a private investigator or a lawyer to track him down. Please don’t do that.”

  “I don’t want to make you another promise I can’t keep, Cath. Not to be morbid but what if my cancer gets really serious? I want to be able to at least see him, even if it’s from a distance and he never knows me. Just to lay my eyes on him…would be a miracle to me. I want to see you in him and I want to see me in him. Just once. If anything more comes out of that, then my happiness would be off the charts.”

  Jame gestured to the box. ”My curiosity is killing me. What’s in here?”

  Taking a deep breath, I ripped off the tape and lifted the lid.

  “Michael’s stuff is in here.”

  Jame almost jumped out of his chair. “What? You’ve been in touch with him?”

  “No. No, I didn’t know it at the time, but my cousin worked out something through the adoption agency that his parents would send a photo every year around his birthday. His mom was very nice. She sent more than just photos. “

  I braced myself as I always did when I looked into Michael’s box. A pile of 15 photos, a clear plastic sleeve with a lock of his baby hair, a kindergarten drawing, and newspaper articles of his middle school and high school volleyball games.

  Jame sat in silence, studying each item as I spread them out on the table in front of him. His face was unreadable until…he burst out laughing when he saw the newspaper articles.

  “Ha! He plays volleyball? That’s too funny! I love it! Look at his face, Cath. Am I imagining it or does he look like a little like me?”

  “He is the spitting image of you, idiot, and you know it!” Our laughter broke any tension that was left lingering between us.

  A yearning to share the little of Michael I knew with Jame, made the rest easier. “I went to stay with my cousins in Tallahassee, one was a nurse and the other did something for the county government. They helped me through my pregnancy and were there with me when he was born.

  When the baby came out, they let me hold him for, God, what seemed like only seconds, and he was long with long legs and long hands, long fingers. When he looked up at me and opened his eyes, he was you, Jame. He was you.” Yeesh, would these tears ever stop?

  Jame grabbed one of my hands and rubbed it as he spread out all 15 photos from “Michael, age 1’ all the way to “Michael, age 15.’

  “Cath, I can’t even think straight right now. I’m seeing so much of myself as he gets older in the pictures here. But they stop at 15, why?”

  “I don’t know. It could be because my one cousin sold the house where his
Mom sent them and they didn’t get forwarded or maybe they were returned to her so she stopped. Or any of the crazy other reasons my mind came up with that were too hard to think about.”

  “Like what? I remember your very creative mind. What were you thinking?”

  “Oh, like he finally asked about me and she told him I was getting photos every year and he asked her to stop because he hated me…or that his mom died and no one knew what she was doing…or that something had happened to him…”

  Jame got up, came around and wrapped his arms around me. “He’s fine. Nothing happened to him. Just some kind of mix-up.”

  “Well, we’ll never know.”

  “Maybe we will. I can get someone on all this stuff right away. The newspaper clippings tell so much- his full name, where he went to high school, what he looks like. An investigator should be able to pull it off.”

  I shook my head. “No, Jame. Do not send an investigator to talk with him. Or a lawyer either or any stranger. That would be a horrible way to disrupt his life. Promise me you won’t and you damn well better keep this promise!”

  “OK. OK. Could I have copies of these just so I can maybe have someone trace him? Not talk with him, just trace him so we have current information about him in case…”

  “In case what?”

  “In case he wants to meet us.”

  I knew Jame and I knew it was inevitable. He gets so focused on something he won’t let it go. Nothing stands in his way (including pregnant me) when he’s lasered on a goal.

  He followed me into my office while I made copies of everything in Michael’s box. While I worked the copier, he looked around my office reading my awards for various human-interest articles and a few series I had done.

  “You know, I followed your career. It wasn’t easy. There was no Google in those days.”

  “Yeah, I heard stuff about you too even though I didn’t ever want to hear your name again. Here, this pile is yours. Keep it very safe and I’m begging you to tell no one about what you’re doing. Nobody in your family, no friends, no one. You hear me?”

  “Just you, Cath. Just you. I’ll let you know every little piece of progress I make.”

  And then since I’m always stupid about Jame (will I ever learn?), I invited him to stay for dinner and we talked for hours over a bottle of wine. He asked me about Sam and Erin and Kaitlin, my work, what I’m doing now, how I interview, where do my ideas come from.

  I grilled him on every step of his life from the moment he got on that plane to Texas until he came to my house that first night. It was like we couldn’t get enough of each other. We wanted to fill in every blank, cover every second that we lost together.

  Maybe it was the wine, maybe it was my years of loneliness, maybe it was just that he was Jame and he was here. But we ended up sitting very close on the couch in front of a blazing fire. He took the glass of wine out of my hand, put it on the table, and lifted my hand to his lips.

  “Remember this?” He started kissing each of my fingers on the tips and then traced kisses over my palm and to my wrist. I shuddered with longing and memories of all the times he had done that to me.

  As the saying goes, ‘Stupid is as stupid does,’ I got stupid. I reached up to drag his face, his lips down to mine and kissed him for all the years we never kissed.

  It was exactly the same- heady, heart-jolting, sexy, hot. Jame, Jame. Jame. Holymarymotherofgod, it was fabulous and I didn’t want to stop. Apparently neither did he because we melted into each other like we used to. Finally he yanked me to my feet, pulled me upstairs and frantically looked around for my bedroom.

  “This one,” was all I could get out as he covered my mouth with his again and danced me into my room and over to my bed.

  No words were needed. Moans and kisses and touches and the years peeled away. We were 18 again. We were 45, moving in such unison that we could have been together for years. It was bliss and I didn’t want it to end.

  Chapter 27

  Morning sex is sometimes even better than dark of night, wine-induced sex. Waking up naked, cuddled next to Jame, snuggling deeper into him and feeling him get aroused turned me on all over again. This time, I initiated our lovemaking but I didn’t hear any objection from him.

  “Mmmmmmmm, Cath,” Jame said, as we lay spent and satiated, limbs intertwined and hearts connected.

  “Mmmmmm what?”

  “I feel like I’m gonna say something stupid here and totally embarrass myself…”

  I put my hand over his mouth. “Then don’t say it. No promises. No what if’s. Just now, today, this moment.”

  He started kissing my hand when I saw the clock. I jumped up. “Yikes, gotta get up, it’s after 10!”

  “Why?”

  “Why what?”

  “Why do we have to get up?”

  “To shower, eat, do stuff.”

  “Cath, come back to bed. We have all the time in the world. I need you. I’ve needed you for years and now that I have you, I’m taking advantage of it.”

  There were those molten, chocolate brown eyes again. I couldn’t resist. I didn’t want to resist. I went back to love Jame.

  It was after 11 o’clock by the time we finally showered and got downstairs for coffee and breakfast. I had thrown on my sweats and his shirt was half buttoned. We were both barefoot fixing our coffee and cereal when I heard the front door open.

  “Mom! Hey, Mom! Surprise! I didn’t go to Boston after all. The tickets didn’t work out so we thought we’d surprise you. I smell coffee!” Kaitlin rushed into the kitchen where Jame and I stood stunned and embarrassed.

  “Whoa, Mom!” Kaitlin looked us both over and yelled, “Hey Erin, get in here.”

  Erin walked into the room and burst out laughing. “No wonder you didn’t mind Kait not coming home this weekend, Mom! And we came to see you because you were so LONELY.”

  “Girls, I uh…” I looked at Jame.

  “Hi Erin. Kaitlin. Your Mom’s told me a lot about you. Who’s who?” How could he be so calm when I was blushing from my toes up to the crown of my head?

  “I’m Erin and I’m the oldest. “ Erin reached and poured two more cups of coffee, one for Kait and one for herself. She sat down at the kitchen table and watched Jame and me expectantly, still laughing.

  “So who are you?” Erin asked Jame straight out with a wide grin. “And you have to know we are shocked, absolutely shocked that our mother has a boyfriend. Ha! Mom, you’ve been keeping a secret from us!”

  Kait sat down too, “Yeah sit down, Mr. Boyfriend and tell us all about yourself.”

  “Girls, please. I didn’t know you were coming home…” I stammered.

  “That’s obvious, Mom. So how long have you two been going out?” Erin asked.

  Jame laughed, “Since freshman year in high school.”

  “Are you kidding? Get out of here!” Kait screamed, “Mom, is this your high school boyfriend? This is amazing!”

  “Yep, she is amazing,” Jame reached over and tousled my hair.

  “Stop it, all of you! Girls, I am so sorry…”

  “We’re kidding, Mom. We think it’s great. And we’re happy you’re not lonely anymore!” That was from Kait.

  “Are you living with my mom, Mr. High School Boyfriend?” Erin grinned some more.

  “I’m Jame Patterson. I’m pleased to meet such funny young ladies who obviously love their mother very much and no, I’m not living here. Your mom and I just got reacquainted after too many years apart.”

  Kait pulled the white box that still sat on the table over to her side. “What’s this?”

  I grabbed it from her, closing the lid on tight, “Nothing, just high school stuff.”

  “Oh let’s see! Pictures of you guys in high school?”

  “No, just stuff, I’ll show you some other time.” I took the box with me, calling over my shoulder, “and Jame was just leaving.”

  “Ok, I guess I am. Nice meeting you girls. Hope to see you again.” Jame said as I
reached back and pulled him into the living room.

  “Where’s your pile of his stuff?” I frantically look around afraid it was out in the open where Erin and Kait would have seen it coming in.

  “It’s all in your office and I’ll get it. Then I need to find my shoes since I guess I’m leaving.” Jame walked down the hall to my office. I ran upstairs, shoved the box in the back of my closet and grabbed his shoes and socks from under my bed.