That Was Then...

Home > Literature > That Was Then... > Page 13
That Was Then... Page 13

by Melody Carlson


  “You’re right.” I’m looking at the photo again. And even though this woman is in her forties, she’s still very good-looking. “You really think I’m prettier than her?” I ask Cesar, instantly wishing I hadn’t.

  He laughs. “Oh, you know that I think you’re pretty, Kim. I’ve told you before that if I was into dating, you’d definitely be on my A-list.”

  I shake my head. “Too bad.”

  He nods. “Yep. Too bad.”

  “Would Chloe still be on that list?” Don’t ask me why I say this. Maybe I’m just stalling before I have to leave this warm place and face the elements on my way home.

  “Chloe’s heart belongs to Jeremy Baxter,” Cesar says. This is old news, of course, but not anything that I’ve heard Cesar talk much about.

  “And you’re okay with that?”

  “Of course. Chloe and I have only been friends for several years now. I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

  So then I ask Cesar about where he’s going to school next year, and he mentions several possibilities, including Bible college. “I think God might be calling me into some kind of ministry,” he says quietly.

  “Really?”

  “I haven’t actually told anyone, besides Josh. Because I’m not sure. Maybe I’m just hoping. Anyway, I’d appreciate it if you kept that under your hat.”

  “No problem.” I slip the letter and things back in the envelope. “Maybe the same with me. Not that anyone would really care about my birth mom. But I think I’d like to keep it quiet for a while. Until I can figure out what I’m going to do.”

  Cesar grins. “And like any other trustworthy bartender playing therapist, your secrets are safe with me.”

  I finish my coffee and notice that it’s five-thirty. “Well, my dad will be getting home soon. Guess I better go.”

  “Be safe out there,” he says as I pull on my coat.

  “You too.”

  “Yeah. I might even close early if it’s too comatose.”

  But when I get home there’s a message from Dad on our machine saying that he has to work late and to go ahead and eat dinner without him. I leave him a plate in the fridge, then come to my room to write in my diary, do my homework, and think about this new development with my birth mother.

  And as much as I hate to admit this, I’m really resenting her intrusion into my life. Every time I look at her photo, I imagine this very smug, self-centered woman who only thinks about herself. And then I wonder if she could be lying about the whole thing. Maybe she’s really just dirt-poor and pathetic but doesn’t want me to know. She could’ve had someone else write this letter. But how do you explain the business card? Of course, I’m sure anyone can get anything printed if they want.

  Maybe she has ulterior motives. Maybe she thinks we’re rich and she can hit us up for money. Or maybe she’s not my birth mother at all. Oh, I know I’m being ridiculous. But it does make me wonder.

  Dear Jamie,

  I just made a new friend, and she is so cool. We have such a great time together, and I think we could maybe even become best friends. The problem is that her family is pretty well-off. I mean, they are rich. But my parents are divorced, and I live with my mom, and we are not rich—not even close. But I’ve been hiding this from my friend. In fact, I’ve acted like we’re rich too. I even came up with an explanation for my clothes, which are not designer labels, saying that my mom and I refuse to support the corrupt fashion industry by wasting money on expensive clothes—like this is our personal political protest. And I think my friend believes me. But I know I can’t keep this charade up. What should I do?

  Fake Friend

  Dear FF,

  I think you already know what to do. Tell your friend the truth. The sooner the better. And if she’s as cool as you think, I’m guessing she’ll forgive you for lying and not hold any lack of material wealth against you. You sound like a smart person who’s fun to hang with. Hopefully she already recognizes this, and you guys will be friends for a long time to come.

  Just Jamie

  Fifteen

  Monday, January 29

  I still haven’t responded to the letter from my supposed birth mother. But I did tell my dad and Nat about it, and although they both encouraged me to correspond with her, they also agreed that it was my decision to make and that I should ultimately do whatever I’m comfortable with.

  “It’s possible that your gut instincts are telling you something,” my dad finally said. “You need to listen to your heart, Kim. There might be a reason you feel the way you do.”

  “Like this woman might be a fraud?”

  “It wouldn’t be hard to find out,” he told me. “I could even put one of my researchers on her. Make sure she’s the real thing before you get involved.”

  “Would you do that, Dad?”

  “Of course. I’d be glad to. There are a lot of exploiters out there. I certainly don’t want you getting involved with one.”

  So I figure this buys me some time for now. When Dad gets back to me with the facts, I can decide what to do.

  “Aren’t you curious?” Nat asked me on our way home from school today. “I mean, wouldn’t you love to talk to her, to see what she’s like, and to ask her questions about why she gave you up?”

  “I don’t know…”

  “You used to be obsessed with finding your birth mom,” she reminds me. “Remember how you did that exhaustive Internet search? You were relentless, Kim.”

  “That was then…” I told her. “Back when I was trying to figure out who I was and why I was here and all those questions that hammered away at me in my early teens. I think I’ve grown up a lot since then.”

  “So you really know who you are now?” Her voice had a teasing edge to it.

  “Well, not completely, but it is getting better. Finding God made a pretty huge difference too.”

  “So you’d really be okay never knowing the woman who gave birth to you, the one who’s genetically responsible for who you are?”

  “I think God’s the one who’s genetically responsible for who I am, Nat.”

  “I know, I know. But I guess I like to think about the part of me that’s in my baby…even if I never get to see her again. I mean, it’s so amazing to think that there’s a little girl out there who—” Then Nat’s voice broke, and I could see tears in her eyes.

  “I’m sorry. Maybe we shouldn’t be talking about this.”

  “It’s okay, Kim. It’s not your fault. Steph keeps telling me that it’s going to take time, maybe the rest of my life, to get over this.”

  “How’s the counseling going?” I asked, ready to change the subject to something more comfortable for both of us.

  “Steph is great. She’s really helping me to work through this. Hey, maybe you should go talk to her about this thing with your birth mom. I’ll bet she’d have some ideas.”

  “I’m going to wait until Dad finds out whether or not she’s legit.”

  “Yeah, that’s probably smart. But I think she’s the real deal, Kim. That letter sounded sincere to me.”

  I didn’t point out to her that it could’ve been created to sound sincere, that con artists are usually good at tricking people. I think it’s better to just wait and see. In the meantime, I’m not really thinking about it much.

  Thursday, February 8

  “Good news,” my dad announced when he got home from work tonight. “My researcher informed me that his resources confirmed that Lee Jin-Soon is who she says she is. And he’s even discovered birth records that match Lee Jin-Soon’s claim to be your mother. Other than a DNA test, which is the only way to be 100 percent sure, this woman appears to be telling the truth.

  “Oh.”

  “Aren’t you glad to hear this?”

  “I guess.” I looked down at my hands.

  “You know, it doesn’t change anything, Kim. It’s your choice whether or not you respond to the letter. I think the only reason she took the liberty to write you is because the Korean orp
hanage knew that you’d tried to locate your birth mother several years ago. Otherwise, you probably never would’ve heard from her at all. Don’t you think?”

  “I suppose. But I was only fifteen when I was trying to find her. I didn’t know what I was doing.”

  Dad laughed. “You’ve always known what you were doing, Kim. You were just born that way.”

  I had to smile at that. “Maybe, but I’m not sure I really want to write back. Not yet anyway.”

  “Does this have to do with your mom?”

  “Partly. But it’s more than that. I mean, I know Mom would want me to get to know this woman. But I also know she wouldn’t push me.”

  “I’m not pushing you, honey. At least I hope not.”

  “You’re not, Dad.”

  “You’re a smart girl, Kim. I know you’ll figure out the right thing to do. I have complete faith in you.” Then he handed me a large manila envelope. “Here’s the research. You might want to just file it for a later date.”

  And so that’s what I did. But something about Dad’s statement—about having complete faith in me—reminds me that I haven’t totally put this thing with my birth mother into God’s hands. And I think it’s time that I do. First I spend some time reading my Bible, and then I actually get down on my knees. And believe me, I don’t always do this, but it amazes me how awesome it can be. I pray that God will take the whole birth mother dilemma and show me what to do. Finally I say, “God, if you want Lee Jin-Soon to be part of my life, then I am willing. Just help me to know Your will, and help me to do it. Amen.”

  Saturday, February 10

  I wrote to my birth mother yesterday. It wasn’t a terribly personal letter. In fact, it reminded me a lot of the one she wrote me. So maybe we are related, after all. It was a one-pager with very brief descriptions of who I am and what I like to do. Almost like a résumé. But, hey, it was better than nothing. Also, I included a photo. I just picked up my senior photos, which aren’t bad.

  I mailed the letter today. Maybe this will be the end of it. We’ve exchanged photos and some bare-bones information. Maybe that’s enough. The only reason I wrote the letter yesterday was because I’d gotten this very definite impression that God wanted me to do this. And in the last paragraph of my letter, I told my birth mother about how I had looked into Buddhism and how it didn’t work for me. Then I told her about how I found God and how my life has been changed ever since. I also told her that God loved her and wanted to have a relationship with her as well. So, if nothing else, this woman has at least heard a bit of the gospel. Even if it is just a sliver. Who knows?

  Wednesday, February 14

  We had a Valentine’s party at the Paradiso last night. It was Cesar’s idea originally, but a bunch of kids from youth group helped out. We called our little gathering The Lonely Hearts Club, but that was only because we were doing it for kids who weren’t going to the Valentine’s Dance.

  And as it turned out, it wasn’t such a little gathering. The coffeehouse was pretty jam-packed. But it was fun. In fact, I think it was probably better than the dance. The theme was the seventies, and everyone who dressed up received a free chocolate heart. Chloe hired a DJ, and some of us even danced. It was really an awesome evening. While in the restroom, we actually heard one girl say how she was surprised that a party without booze could be this fun.

  “And with no hangover,” I pointed out.

  “And no arrests,” added Allie.

  Go figure.

  Wednesday, February 21

  I received another letter from my birth mother today. This one was sent through regular airmail and was very short and somewhat shocking. I’m not even sure what to think. Or how to respond.

  13 February

  Dear Miss Kim,

  Thank you for your letter of 7 February. It was a great pleasure to hear from you. I plan to travel to the United States the following month for business and pleasure. I would like to meet you and your family if this is convenient to your schedule.

  If possible, I would like to communicate with you through electronic mail. Do you use the Internet? If so, please respond to me at the following address.

  [email protected]

  Sincerely,

  Lee Jin-Soon

  Okay, now what? It’s one thing to agree to write to her—like maybe one or two letters. But do I really want to meet this woman in person? I’m not so sure. But instead of freaking, I go straight to God. I put it in His hands and ask Him to lead me. And when I say amen, I know that it’s going to be okay. Well, mostly. I guess I still feel a little nervous.

  When Dad gets home, I tell him the news. And he seems just fine.

  “That’s great, Kim. I would love to meet her.”

  “You would?”

  “Of course. She’s your birth mother. You’re my daughter. Why wouldn’t I want to meet her?”

  I nod. “Okay…”

  “But it’s up to you. It’s your call, sweetheart. If you’re not comfortable with this, you just explain to her that it’s not a good time.”

  “I don’t even know when exactly,” I admit. “She only said March.”

  “Well, why don’t you e-mail her for clarification? If it makes you feel better, don’t commit to anything yet. Just let her know that you’re considering it.”

  “That’s a good idea.”

  But it’s getting pretty late when I finally get around to e-mailing her. First I do my homework and practice my violin, and then I play about seven games of spider solitaire, all of which I ace. Finally I figure I might as well get this over with. So I go online and find a world time chart, which indicates that Korea is about twelve hours ahead of us, which according to my calculations means that it’s mid-morning there by the time I start writing my message.

  Dear Lee Jin-Soon,

  I’m responding to your letter. As you can see, I do use e-mail. And I prefer it to regular mail, which we sometimes call “snail mail” since it’s so slow. What dates are you thinking about for your visit in March? It’s possible that we won’t be home.

  Sincerely,

  Kim Peterson

  Okay, I know that’s not totally true. But on the other hand, it’s not a lie either. It’s entirely possible that Dad and I will go somewhere during spring break. Who knows? To my surprise, I’m still online when I see that I’ve got a new mail. And, of course, it is from Lee Jin-Soon.

  Dear Miss Kim,

  Thank you for your e-mail. My travel dates in March are flexible. What dates will you be available to meet with me? I will adjust my travel to fit your schedule. Thank you.

  Sincerely,

  Lee Jin-Soon

  Dear Lee Jin-Soon,

  My spring break at school goes from March 22 to March 30. It’s possible that we might be gone during this week. Other than that, I think we will be home.

  Sincerely,

  Kim Peterson

  As soon as I hit send, I know that there’s no way to get out of this. But even so, I pray that God won’t let her come unless there’s some really good reason for her to be here. And I’m hoping that’s not going to be the case. I wait at my computer, expecting her to respond immediately, just like last time. But after about twenty minutes and winning four more games of solitaire, I decide that she’s probably not going to respond. Well, good! I’m about to sign off and shut down my computer when I see the little flag indicating that new mail has arrived.

  Dear Miss Kim,

  I have checked my calendar, and I would like to come see you during the second week of March. I will arrive on 10 March. I will make my own accommodation arrangements. If it is possible, I would like to take your family to dinner on 11 March. Is this acceptable to you?

  Sincerely,

  Lee Jin-Soon

  Well, I have to admit that she doesn’t seem to be asking too much of us. But then I wonder if this could possibly be some kind of set-up. Could she be pretending that she’ll only be here briefly, and then decide to move in for good and empty my dad’s b
ank account? Okay, that’s pretty paranoid. Besides, Dad said his researcher confirmed that she’s really who she claims to be. Maybe I should just agree and get this thing over with. But before I e-mail back, I check with my dad first. Just to make sure he doesn’t have other plans. Unfortunately, he is free March 11. It seems I have no more excuses.

  Dear Lee Jin-Soon,

  The dates you mentioned appear to work for us. We look forward to seeing you on March 11. I have a question. I’ve noticed that you refer to me as “Miss Kim” in your letters. Should I call you Miss Jin-Soon? Or Miss Soon? Or Miss Lee Jin-Soon? I don’t know what’s proper in Korean. By the way, you may just call me Kim.

  Sincerely,

  Kim

  Dear Kim,

  It seems odd to call you “Kim” without Miss in front of it. But I will try. I am guessing that your first name is not Peterson because that sounds like a man’s name. And I remember now how Americans put their family names after. So is your personal name Kim? My family name is Lee. But my personal name is Jin-Soon, and my close friends call me Jin. I would like you to call me Jin too, if you are comfortable with this. I must admit that this is all very strange and awkward for me. I am not used to thinking that I am a mother of a nearly grown young woman. So far, I have told no friends about my American daughter.

  Sincerely,

  Jin

  For the first time, this woman is beginning to sound more like a real person to me. I feel relieved that she’s not comfortable with this new relationship either. It actually gives me hope. And so I write her once more.

  Dear Jin,

  This is strange for me too. Although my friends know that I’m adopted, I have only told a couple of friends about you. I do want to meet you, but I should probably tell you that my mother (the woman who raised me) died last year. And I think that although she would want me to meet you, it is bothering me a little. Because I know that no one will ever replace my mother. Her name was Patricia, and she was the kindest woman I’ve ever known.

 

‹ Prev