You Were Always Mine

by Nicole Baart

  “Max?” Jess tried to shout, her voice reedy and weak beneath a universe of cold. “Max, are you here?” Her words were swallowed by the night.

  Jess choked on a sob and thrust her hand into her mouth so she could clamp down on her mitten. She bit her fingers so hard that she yelped, but the pain also brought her to her senses. Max’s footprints were gone, but as she stood there on the verge of hysteria, she realized that though there were no longer runnels where his boots had hewn through the snow, the landscape was not the same.

  Yanking off her mitten with her teeth and letting it fall to the ground, Jess fumbled in her pocket for her cell phone. Her fingers were stiff, but she managed to locate the little icon that turned on her flashlight. In seconds, she had a narrow beam of bright light trained on the field before her.

  At the place where Max’s footprints vanished, there was a smooth line in the snow. Beyond that, there was a thick band that had stamped a uniform pattern and then another smooth, straight line. The entire flat track sat above the snow in a way that Max’s erratic progress simply couldn’t. It was as if whatever had made the mark was suspended.

  A snowmobile. Max had been picked up by a snowmobile.

  The flashlight beam on her telephone didn’t reach very far, but Jess could see that the snowmobile tracks ran east to west. Or west to east. Back into town or leading away from it, she didn’t know. But there was only one person Jessica knew who owned a snowmobile.

  Jess texted her father two words: home now

  No caps, no punctuation, but it was the best she could do, given the circumstances. She would have called from the edge of the field, but she was trembling from head to toe and was afraid that she’d drop her phone in the snow and lose it beneath the frigid carpet. So she let her dad and Gabe know where she was headed and started back the way she had come, hoping and praying that her hunch was right.

  “Did you find him?” Henry asked, hurrying into the garage at almost the same moment that Jess stumbled through the back door. Gabe was in his arms, his cheek folded against his grandpa’s broad shoulder.

  She shook her head, dislodging errant flakes that had shaken loose from tree branches and alighted in her hair. They landed on her nose, her eyelashes, and didn’t melt. “No,” Jess said. “But I think I know where he is.”

  They didn’t bother taking off their gear but huddled in the mudroom while Jess dialed the number. The tension was palpable between them, hope and fear pressed side by side as Jess put the phone on speaker and held it so that everyone could hear. It rang twice before Meredith picked up.

  “Hey, Jessica!” she said. “What do you think of this snow?”

  It was as if they had never fought, but Jess could hardly remember that they had argued anyway. Everything paled in comparison to this. “Is Max with you?”

  “No . . .”

  Gabe whimpered and Jess tightened her grip on the phone. “He’s gone, Mer. We can’t find him and—”

  “Wait a second,” Meredith interrupted. “Jess, hang on. I think you may have misunderstood me. Max isn’t with me right now, but I know where he is. He’s with Todd.”

  “Thank God,” Henry breathed.

  Jess couldn’t speak at all.

  “Do you mean to tell me that you didn’t know?” Meredith’s voice cracked.

  “No.” Henry reached out and gently took the phone from Jessica. She had started shaking but put her arms out for Gabe so that she and her father could switch tasks. Gabe went willingly to his mother, wrapping his legs around Jess’s waist and nuzzling his nose in her neck. She held him so tight she feared he’d pop.

  “He left without a word,” Henry said. He had switched the speaker phone off and stepped out of his boots so that he could finish the conversation in the warmth of the living room. As Jess followed mindlessly in his wake, she heard him continue: “No, no note. Nothing. Jessica is pretty shaken up.”

  Jess sank to the couch with Gabe still curled around her. He was uncharacteristically quiet, the tension of the last half hour pulling him taut as a cable. Sometimes he exploded in shouts and screams and bursts of frantic, nervous energy. And sometimes he tunneled in, becoming almost catatonic as his little mind shut out all stimulus. This reaction made Jess uneasy, but it was easier to cope with than the whirling dervish that Gabe sometimes transformed into.

  “They’re bringing Max home,” Henry said, dropping onto the couch beside Jess. He set her phone on the coffee table in front of them and then laid his head back against the cushion. Rubbing his eyes with the heels of his hands, he sighed.

  “Thank you,” Jess managed. She wanted to say, For helping with the driveway and for helping me look for Max, but words felt like altogether too much work.

  “You have nothing to thank me for.” Henry gave her knee a warm squeeze.

  He was smiling, but Jess could tell her father was exhausted. “We’re fine, Dad. You should head home. I’m sure Roy would like to have his truck back.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Positive.”

  He gave her a skeptical look but leaned in to give Gabe a kiss on the cheek. Pushing himself up from the couch, he said, “Meredith is bringing Max over as soon as he and Todd get back from snowmobiling. It shouldn’t be long.”

  “Was it Todd’s idea or Max’s?” Jess asked.

  “Max’s,” her dad admitted after a heartbeat. “Apparently he texted Todd, asking for a ride. Todd and Meredith assumed you knew and approved.”

  Jess nodded once.

  “It’ll get better,” he told her. “Don’t be too hard on him. He’s not thinking clearly.”

  “I know.”

  After a moment Henry added: “He’s not trying to hurt you.”

  But that was hard for Jessica to believe.

  When her father was gone, Jess stood up carefully and carried Gabe upstairs. He was deadweight in her arms, exhausted and emotionally drained, and she didn’t even try to put him in his own bed. Instead, she carried him into her room and deposited him on Evan’s side of what was now her ridiculously oversized king bed. Gabe would end up there anyway.

  “Are you mad at Max?” Gabe asked as she pulled off his jeans and switched them out for the plaid pajama pants that he had left crumpled on her floor. Normally he’d fuss and insist on the football pants, but he was tired and his skin was still clammy to the touch. He didn’t complain.

  “Yes,” Jess said. Lying wouldn’t do her any good. Gabe struggled in some areas, but spotting a falsehood was not one of them. He seemed to know her inside and out.

  “Why?”

  “Why do you think?”

  “Because he ran away.”

  Jess sighed. “Max didn’t run away. But he left without telling me where he was going.”

  “He always does that.” Gabe put up his arms to let Jess pull his sweatshirt over his head. She patted the pillow and, when he settled in, pulled the comforter up to his chin.

  “Tonight was different,” Jess said. “It’s dark and cold. We just had a big storm. Do you think it was smart of Max to disappear like that?”

  Gabe shook his head gravely, dark eyes fixed on her. “It wasn’t very nice, either.”

  “No, it was really rather awful.”

  “I’m sorry,” Gabe said. He sat up and wrapped his arms around her neck, squeezing her close.

  “Thanks, buddy.”

  Jess stayed with him for a few minutes, rubbing soft circles on his bare back until he went completely still. Gabe wasn’t asleep, not quite, but close enough. She kissed his temple, inhaling his sweet little boy scent, and snuck out of the room on tiptoe. On the landing, Jess realized that she had forgotten to make him brush his teeth or even go to the bathroom. But she couldn’t force herself to care.

  The house seemed unnaturally still after the drama of earlier. There were blankets strewn all over the floor and half hanging off the couch. Max and Gabe had left plates on the end tables, mugs with an inch or two of sludgy hot cocoa on the mantel. Evidence of their
snow day littered the entire living room, but at least one thing was as it should be: the fire log that Henry had started in the fireplace was crackling merrily. The cheerful orange flames didn’t match her mood, but Jess was grateful for the warmth. She opened the glass doors and cautiously added two split logs. Almost immediately the frayed edges of wood began to glow.

  Jess had the house set in order by the time a car pulled into her driveway. She could hear the slam of doors, and after a few seconds the creak of the garage door opening. Neither Max nor Meredith said a word as they slipped off their shoes and came into the living room.

  Jess was leaning against the dining room table, watching them as they entered her space. Max had his hands stuffed in the deep pockets of his gray joggers, and he refused to look at her. But he walked right past her on his way to the stairs, and paused long enough to give her a tepid, one-armed hug.

  “Sorry,” he muttered.

  “We’ll talk later,” she said. “Go get ready for bed.”

  He didn’t argue, even though it was just nine o’clock and bedtime was one of his favorite quarrels.

  When Max was out of earshot, Jess turned her attention to Meredith. Her friend stood there, hair pulled back in a messy ponytail and eyes tired behind her glasses. They were slipping down her nose, but Meredith didn’t try to right them or wipe the look of abject regret off her face.

  “I am so sorry,” Meredith finally said. “I can’t even begin to tell you how sorry I am.”

  “It’s not your fault.” But Jess didn’t make a move to welcome Meredith in or ease her discomfort in any way.

  “I should have asked,” Meredith said. “I should have checked with you.”

  “Things aren’t always as cut-and-dry as they seem, are they?” Jess stared until Meredith gave a heavy sigh.

  “You’re right.” Meredith took a few steps toward her. “Life is messy.”

  Jess’s arms were crossed over her chest, but when Meredith reached out, she let her friend hug her.

  “I’m sorry,” Meredith said again. “About tonight and about not defending you the way I should have. You’re an excellent mom. The best. I know that, and I should have shut down anyone who tried to say otherwise.”

  “Yes, you should have.” Jess pulled away and headed toward the kitchen. She was still angry and needed some time to cool down, but she was grateful that Meredith was willing to apologize. It was a start. “Would you like a drink?” Her kids were both home safe and sound, and although she had to work in the morning she knew a glass of wine would help her find sleep. Hopefully.

  “I can’t,” Meredith said, but she followed Jess into the kitchen anyway. “I have to get home. But you should definitely have one. No, have two.”

  There was a bottle of red uncorked on the counter. Jess snagged a wineglass from the cupboard and poured herself a tiny amount. A few sips couldn’t hurt. Leaning against the sink she took a sip and hung her head, rotating it slowly from side to side in an effort to work out the kinks.

  “I’m getting you a massage for Christmas,” Meredith said.

  “I’d prefer a beach vacation.”

  “Maui.” Meredith closed her eyes, a smile playing on her lips.

  “Santorini.”

  “How about Bora-Bora?” Meredith laughed a little. “Can I come?”

  “I’m not going alone.” Jess took a swig. “But I highly doubt a tropical beach is in my future.”

  “Hey, someday.” Meredith looked concerned. “This is a stage, okay? A season. I’ve got your back. You’ll get through this.”

  Jess wasn’t so sure. But if there was anything that she had learned in the last couple of days, it was that she couldn’t continue letting life happen to her. Jess knew what she had to do, but she wasn’t sure if she wanted Meredith to be a part of it or not.

  “Do you have plans for Thanksgiving?” Meredith asked when the silence became strained.

  Jess was glad that she was looking at the floor instead of at Meredith. Surely the surprise on her face said it all. She had forgotten about Thanksgiving entirely. But it was this week, of course. In just a couple of days.

  “My dad and Anna are serving a meal at the nursing home,” Jess said, composing herself. “They’ve done that for a few years now. Evan and I always had a little celebration with just the four of us.” And Bradford. Evan picked up his father and doted on him in the most tender way. Jess remembered wishing that he would shower her with that sort of affection. But none of that mattered now.

  “Come to our house!” Meredith touched Jess’s shoulder to make her look up. “We’d love to have you. Seriously. It’s just going to be us and Todd’s sister’s family. They have two kids in college.”

  Jess was already shaking her head. “No thanks.”

  “I insist.” Meredith was already heading toward the door, clearly determined not to take no for an answer. Jess knew that it was her way of apologizing, of doing penance for the pain she had caused.

  “Fine.” Jess wouldn’t win and there was no point in trying. “What do you want me to bring?”

  “Absolutely nothing. A healthy appetite and your gorgeous kids.” If she was laying it on a bit thick, Meredith didn’t seem to notice. She was obviously utterly taken with the thought of making up for her shortcomings with something as tangible as a feast.

  “Okay,” Jess said, lifting her wine to her lips yet again. It was gone and she set her empty glass on the dining room table a little self-consciously. “Thanks for bringing Max home.”

  Meredith tiptoed over the carpet in her shoes and pulled Jess into a quick hug. “Thank you for forgiving me.”

  Jess smiled, but she hadn’t done any such thing. Not yet. And whether or not she found it in her heart to forgive Meredith at all depended on how her friend responded to Jess’s plan.

  “I’m going to need your help,” Jess said. The demand was out of the blue, a gauntlet thrown in the midst of what had somehow become a cheerful reunion. Jess knew she was messing that up, but she didn’t care. “I know you think I’m crazy, but there’s more to Evan’s death than meets the eyes.” She studied Meredith, waiting for a reaction that didn’t come.

  “Okay.” Meredith’s expression looked deliberately blank.

  Jess wasn’t sure what to make of it, but she pressed on. “He was keeping a file. I’m going to find it.”

  Meredith nodded; there was a hitch in the movement. A hint of skepticism. All the same, she said, “Of course. Whatever it takes.”

  * * *

  StolenAtBirth.com

  Home Page

  The truth about adoption is far more complicated than people imagine. While the Baby Scoop Era of the ’50s, ’60s, and ’70s is considered to be behind us, the fact remains that adoption is a flawed system and a for-profit industry. As such, it becomes evident that, like any commodity, demand informs production. This creates a dynamic in which the transfer of parental rights can be assigned a price tag. To assume that all adoption is the result of a benevolent desire to protect children from foster care, institutionalization, or abuse is naive at best and deliberately ignorant at worst. It is important that we shed light on unethical and inhumane practices so that we can make positive changes for the benefit of all parties involved in adoption.

  Coercion is the simplest, most extensive tool used in forced adoptions. Shady practices and misleading information can result in the separation of children from their birth parents—even when giving up the child for adoption is not the birth parents’ first choice. Some birth parents do not have the financial means to battle adoption agencies in the courts of law. Others do not have the resources to overcome the insurmountable pressure to give up or revoke their parental rights. They are taken advantage of, fed false information, and pitted against one another as the industry seeks to line their pockets and feed the adoption machine.

  Cultural views of adoption further undergird the narrative that “unwanted” children are rescued from the gutter and placed in loving homes. And while
many adoptive families may have no idea about the dark underside of adoption, they willingly accept that adoption is always in the best interest of a child.

  We must advocate for birth parents, provide the necessary counseling, support, and information so that they are empowered to make well-informed choices. We seek truth in difficult circumstances and fight for children to remain within their families of origin whenever possible. We believe in reunification and the sovereignty of birth parents as they make decisions that will impact their children and themselves for generations to come. We seek truth and justice and whole, healthy families.

  Angel P.

  27, African American, HS diploma

  Chin-length natural hair (twists), morbidly obese. Kind, maternal, beloved.

  Friend knows.

  CWIK, 49m, 2y pp

  CHAPTER 20

  SCHOOL THE NEXT day was a free-for-all. The buses ran late because of the snow and ice, and kids filtered into school high on excitement and the promise of a short week.

  “Only a day and a half!” Dayton Cummings, one of Jess’s favorite seniors, said when he threw his backpack down on his desk before first period. “That’s just over ten hours of school. I don’t even know why we bothered this week.”

  Jess gave him a rueful smile, but she felt the same way. She would have happily abandoned her lesson plans and strict schedule for the freedom of more time to research.

  After Meredith had left the night before, Jess had gone upstairs to do more internet stalking. Max had been in his room when she checked on him, and for once he didn’t pull away when she cupped his face and kissed his forehead. He wasn’t quite contrite, but he clearly felt bad for causing such a fuss. “You scared me,” she said. “Please don’t ever do anything like that again.” He nodded, and she caught a whiff of his freshly washed hair. Cedar and sage and essence of Max. His nod wasn’t an apology, but it was a good place to start. It was easy for Jess to forgive him, if only because she was so grateful for the way he let her hold him close for just a moment.