Seeking Sarah

by ReShonda Tate Billingsley

  “Awww, I am so sorry, Brooke.”

  The memory hurt all over again. “I tried to tell myself that she was just a hell of an actor and knew who I was but my gut tells me she didn’t. She didn’t know her own child,” I said, fighting back tears. “Then I went to see her husband, Anthony, yesterday.”

  “What?” April exclaimed. “Why?”

  I shrugged. “I don’t know. I’m just trying to make sense of this. Understand what it is about them that made her walk away from us.”

  “Ask her, Brooke. Just go ask her.”

  I wiped away the lone tear that had found its way down my cheek. “That’s what I came here for. I was so excited, and now, just seeing everything . . . this life she’s created . . .”

  I could tell April felt helpless. “I hate this, Brooke.” She paused. “Trent does, too. He called me and he’s devastated about everything and thinks you’re taking all of this too far. Now, listening to you, I think he may be right. I don’t know if this whole thing is a good idea, especially this following her around. That’s slow torture. I think you need to go confront her, then come on back.”

  “I think you need to stop thinking,” I replied, irritation replacing my impending sadness.

  She pointed a finger at me like she was jabbing the screen.

  “I understand this is a difficult time for you, so I’m going to let you make it. But you have one more time to snap at me . . .”

  I sighed. “I’m sorry.”

  The sympathy returned to her face.

  “I’m just saying, you don’t sound like yourself and we all are really worried. You’re getting all cozy with her stepson, who, I know you don’t want to admit, is really feeling you, based on what you told me last time we talked. And now you’re meeting up with her husband?”

  “It’s not like that. I just wanted to find out more about their family.”

  “How did you even hook up with him?”

  “We didn’t hook up.”

  I told her about the PR contract and how I finagled a meeting.

  “So what about Alex?”

  “What about him? I’ve gotten all the information I’m going to get from him.”

  “Then why are you still fooling with him.”

  “Look, it’s lonely here. Alex is good company. That’s it.”

  April shook her head, her face cloaked with worry. “You know how I feel about playing with people. I was just telling Symone that today. She got her revenge on Paul and that chick he was messing with, but now she needs to move on because playing with people’s emotions can have you end up hurt.”

  “Well, I’m not Symone,” I replied. “And it was just one meeting. But you don’t have to worry because I am going to confront Sarah sooner rather than later.”

  “So what is your game plan exactly?” she said.

  “I’m going to go talk to her. Soon. I just, I swear, I don’t know if I can take her rejecting me again. I don’t know what I will do if she does . . .”

  “Brooke, just be careful. Too many people could end up hurt, not just your mother.”

  “Thanks for the warning,” I said. “Now I really gotta go. I’ll call you later.” I pushed END before she was able to lecture me anymore.

  CHAPTER 21

  * * *

  Atlanta had gotten lonely. Work had been taking up a lot of my time and my mother consumed what was left. The only socializing I got was my time with Alex, which I had come to enjoy, though not in any kind of sexual way. He just was good company. Though he was nearly ten years younger than me, in another lifetime I could’ve seen us being real friends.

  “So, I know a lot of people make jokes about my literature degree, but I’m hoping to go back into the school system and be a teacher and ignite a love of reading in young people. In the technology age, that seems to be one of the main things we’re losing.”

  I leaned back and smiled. Whenever Alex talked about literature, he had a light dancing in his eyes. That darkness I had seen the other day with his ex was nowhere to be found. Maybe he was right. Maybe it was only brought on because of his contentious relationship with Jada.

  “You make me want to read more,” I admitted. That wasn’t a line. He really did and once I got my mind back right, I vowed to get back into reading.

  I had stopped by the bookstore after Alex called and begged me to come have coffee and pick up this new book. Since Nina J. and her drama had been stressing me out no end, I welcomed the diversion.

  My compliment caused his cheeks to redden. “Wow, that means a lot. But that’s what I’m hoping to be able to do with children.”

  He proceeded to tell me about some of the literacy programs he was working with, including one he had actually started at the YMCA with Kara.

  “What happened with you and Kara?” I asked, cutting him off.

  He stopped, seemingly taken aback by my question. “Ah . . . it just didn’t work out.”

  “I know you said you thought she cheated, but do you know that for sure? I saw it in her eyes. She seems to really care about you.”

  He shook his head. “Nah, she doesn’t.”

  “Please. I saw the expression on her face when I told her we were dating. That was like a dagger through her heart.”

  His eyes widened. “You think so?”

  I nodded. “I know so. I know women and that woman loves you. I mean, you can tell me, is it you that cheated?” I flashed a sly smile.

  His body stiffened and he was obviously offended by my question as he slammed his hand down on the table. “I am not a cheater. I despise cheaters.”

  “Whoa,” I said, raising my hands in defense. “Sorry. I wasn’t trying to imply that you were.”

  He relaxed, then shook his head like he was trying to shake away any residual anger at Kara. “No, I’m sorry. It’s just that I . . . I don’t know. Kara was my first love. And I got really upset because of that relationship with her study partner. Then things got a little rough between us and she bailed. I tried to get her to come back to me, and well . . .” He sat up. “You know what? I don’t want to talk about Kara.”

  His words had such a finality that I decided to leave it alone.

  “Well, thanks for the book. Do I need to pay for this?”

  “Did I make you mad?” he asked, a worried expression across his face.

  “No. I just need to get back to work.” I’d told him that I worked at a PR agency, but I let him believe I was just a receptionist.

  “Oh. Well, no, I already paid for the book.” An apologetic look swept his face. “I really am sorry.”

  “It’s okay, Alex.” I stood.

  He stood as well. “But my mom is bringing me dinner. I was hoping you’d get to meet her.”

  I froze.

  “What?” I muttered.

  “My mom should be here any minute now. I’ve told her all about you. I’d love for you guys to meet.”

  It took everything in my power not to freak out. I wasn’t ready to face my mother! If she didn’t recognize me again, I didn’t know how I would react.

  “That’s nice, but I really have to go,” I said.

  I was about to do a Usain Bolt out of the door when Alex said, “Well, at least you’ll get to meet her before you go.” He looked over my shoulder. “Hey, Mom.”

  I remained frozen in place. Fear paralyzed me and kept me from turning around. I would make a scene if I ran.

  Knowing I couldn’t avoid the inevitable, I took a deep breath and turned around to face my mother. I had never been so nervous. I don’t know why, maybe because deep down inside I was hoping that the coffee shop was a fluke and my mother would take one look at me and know. Or that she’d been thinking about me since she’d seen me in the coffee shop and she’d finally put two and two together. But judging from the huge grin on her face, I was being delusional.

  “Well, I’m so glad to finally meet you,” she said, reaching out to shake my hand. “Alex has been raving about this new friend of his and I was beg
inning to think she was a figment of his imagination.”

  “Mom, can you not embarrass me, please?”

  “You’re pretty.” For the first time, I noticed the little girl standing next to her. Her long black ponytails hung past her shoulders. Her rosy cheeks and her unusually long eyelashes made her look like she belonged on the cover of an American Doll magazine. She was even prettier than her picture.

  My sister.

  “She is pretty, isn’t she,” my mother said, snapping me out of my trance.

  I struggled to recover. From both the shock of coming face-to-face with my mother again and the fact that she still didn’t recognize me.

  “Th-thank you,” I managed to say. I felt the anger bubbling inside me.

  She studied me for a moment. “Have we met, though?”

  “Mom, this is Mona,” Alex said, thankfully taking her attention off me. “Mona, this is my mother, Sarah, and my sister, Sunny.”

  He took his food, which she had in a purple portable cooler. “Thanks so much for bringing me dinner.” He turned to me. “Mom is an excellent cook.”

  “So I’ve been told.” She chuckled. “Mona, you’ll have to come over for dinner sometime. I’d really like to get to know more about you.”

  I had to squeeze my purse strap to settle my trembling hands. My mother was standing in my face. Inviting me to dinner. And she didn’t recognize me. How could you not recognize the child you gave birth to? The thought made me want to throw up.

  The moment she took one look at me, shouldn’t she have known? The pain in my heart from the fact that she didn’t know was unbearable.

  “So Alex tells me you’re not from around here,” she said.

  My first instinct was to lie. Lie, then run. But I sucked in as much air as my lungs would hold and said, “No, I’m not from around here. I’m from North Carolina.”

  She blinked. Then blinked again. And I just knew that was the moment.

  Yet she relaxed, smiled, then said, “Well, what brings you to Atlanta?”

  “Work.” Then I don’t know what made me say, “I’m a dancer.”

  Alex looked at me in shock. “What? You never told me that.”

  I shrugged, never taking my eyes off my mother. She had a surprised expression as well and I could see the wheels churning in her head.

  “Mommy is an awesome dancer,” Sunny said. “She used to be a famous dancer.”

  “I don’t call being a backup dancer for Mariah Carey a noted dancer,” she said with a slight chuckle, though it was filled with uneasiness.

  A backup dancer, I thought. You left me to be a backup dancer? “Wow,” was all I could say. “With Mariah, huh?”

  Either she was the greatest actor ever, or she had brushed off whatever seemed to be creeping into her mind. She smiled as she continued: “Yes, back in my heyday, I spent a little time on the road. I wanted to do something a little more classical, but I enjoyed getting to experience a little bit of my first love.”

  “She still teaches dancing on the side,” Alex proudly said. “She has an amazing studio.”

  I glared at her. The studio she didn’t want my daddy to open.

  “That’s nice,” was all I managed to say. I turned to Alex. “Well, I really need to get going.”

  “You can’t stay and have dinner with us?” Alex said. “It’s my birthday and Mom brought me these homemade enchiladas since I had to work.”

  Again, that word. Mom. And again, I felt sick to my stomach.

  “It’s your birthday?” I managed to say. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  He shrugged. “Mom always makes a big deal about it. But it would really mean a lot if you stayed and ate with us,” he said.

  As much as I would have loved to, if I stayed in my mother’s presence for five more minutes I would have lost it.

  “I’ll have to take you out for a private celebration later,” I said.

  “Ooooooh,” Sunny said, giggling.

  “See you, later, Alex. And Sunny.” I walked away without saying a word to my mother.

  CHAPTER 22

  * * *

  The evening air outside the bookstore greeted me, engulfing me as if Mother Nature knew I needed comforting.

  My chest heaved and I fought back angry tears as I leaned against the side of the bookstore trying to compose myself. I couldn’t believe it. My mother hadn’t recognized me again. I was being rejected again. And now I was on the verge of losing it. I just knew the “dancer” comment had gotten to her. And still nothing.

  No. Whether I was ready or not, it was time. I couldn’t live in this space between anger and hurt anymore. I needed to know why she left and what that meant for me now.

  I paced up and down the sidewalk in front of the bookstore, waiting for her to come out. I didn’t really want to do this in front of Sunny, but I couldn’t go one more day.

  The time was now.

  “Mona?” she said when she spotted me. “You’re still here?”

  “Umm-hmmm,” I muttered, shifting uncomfortably as I glanced down at Sunny’s hand, which was gripped tightly by my mother. “I was hoping we could talk.”

  When she hesitated, I thought she was about to protest. But she looked down at Sunny. “Sweetheart, go back inside to the kids’ section and read a book. Mommy will be in to get you in a moment.”

  Sunny scurried back inside so we could talk.

  “Yes, send your precious daughter back inside.”

  The coldness in my tone caused her to say, “Okay, did I do something to you, because I don’t understand this vibe I’m getting from you.”

  I couldn’t help but laugh. “This vibe. This vibe.”

  I moved closer to her. I know I was frightening her because she tensed up. “Take a good look at me,” I hissed.

  She stared at me and shook her head as nothing registered. “Should I know you? You look vaguely familiar.”

  “Just, wow.” I swallowed, silently demanding the tears not to surface. “Vaguely familiar? I look vaguely familiar.”

  A perplexed expression crossed her face, and then, the moment that I’d been waiting for—recognition.

  Her eyes widened in shock as her hand went to her mouth.

  “Oh, my God. Brooke?” she gasped.

  “Oh, so now you finally know who I am.” I silently cursed because my tear ducts weren’t cooperating and a wetness filled my face.

  “Brookie, I can’t believe it’s really you.” Her voice was just above a whisper.

  “Don’t call me that!” I snapped. “My name is Brooke.”

  She had the nerve to reach out to touch my face. “You’re so beautiful. You’ve grown into such a—”

  I slapped her hand away. “Don’t you dare touch me.”

  My slap didn’t faze her, because she stepped toward me, like she was still in shock.

  “I—”

  I couldn’t even give her a chance to form her lie. I just said, “I thought you were dead!”

  If she was hoping the tears welling up behind her eyelids were going to get any sympathy from me, she was definitely wrong.

  “I’m so sorry,” she whispered. “I . . . I, oh, my God, I can’t believe you’re here.”

  “You know, it’s funny. I always heard that mothers had a bond with their daughters. But you would’ve never left if you had any kind of bond with me. You would’ve never left if you loved me. But hey, why worry about me? Just move to another city and make another me.”

  She was quiet as her hands shook.

  “I can’t believe this. I can’t believe you’re here.”

  “Yeah, I’m here because I just needed to see the woman who abandoned her own flesh and blood. I had to see her up close and personal. I needed to understand why. So imagine my surprise when I got here and saw your wonderful perfect life. Your woman-of-the-year, mother-of-the-year Brady Bunch life.”

  She looked like a child being scolded.

  “I guess you’ve really fooled all of these people,” I contin
ued. “They don’t know the real you.”

  “I’m a different woman now.” Her voice was soft, almost desperate.

  I glared at her. I had replayed this scenario countless times. Each time ended with me going off. Yet, when I opened my mouth, the only words that would come out were, “Why did you stop loving me?”

  That’s not the question I had hoped to ask. I had planned to curse her out.

  Her eyes never left mine. “I never stopped loving you. Ever.”

  “Bull,” I said. “Mothers who love their children don’t leave.”

  She let her tears fall. “I left to save my life. I was miserable. I was dying. I don’t expect you to understand, but I was no good to you the way I was.”

  “You’re right,” I said, stopping her before she could continue. “I don’t understand. I’ll never understand a mother who leaves her child.”

  Her shoulders rose, then fell, then she began fidgeting with the belt on her dress. “It was your father.”

  I jabbed a finger in her face. “You don’t get to mention his name,” I said, cutting her off before she got his name out. “He lived his life mourning you while you were up here living it up with some other man.”

  “Jacob is a good man,” she said, ignoring my admonishment.

  “Was,” I corrected, disgusted that she didn’t even know my father was dead.

  Her hand went to her mouth. “My God. Jacob is dead?”

  I refused to give her any details and simply said, “Don’t act like you care.”

  Her shoulders sank. “I know you may not believe it, but I do.”

  I wasn’t going to let her talk about my father, so I redirected my venom. “No, you can’t believe I infiltrated your perfect little life; that’s what it is, isn’t it?” My words were pierced with twenty-five years’ worth of hatred.

  “I-I don’t know what to say. It’s so much more complicated than you could ever imagine.”