by Lucia Franco
I turned to walk away, but Thomas stopped me. "Ah, Miss Rossi?" His voice shook. "How about I let him know you're here first? You know, in case he's on a phone call."
The hair on my arms rose. Something was up and I didn't like it. "It's okay, I won't say a word when I walk in if he is. Thanks, though."
"I think it's best if I let him know."
I flattened my lips, not liking the vibe Thomas was putting out. Leaning in, I said firmly, "I've never needed permission to see my father, and I don't now. Thank you, Thomas, but you're excused."
Turning around, I pulled my shoulders back and walked toward my dad's office. My keys jingled in my hand and I wondered why there was a strange air in the house. I hated to treat Thomas like he was hired help when he meant so much more to me than that, but in this case, I had to get my point across.
As I drew closer to the doors, voices carried down the hall that caused me to slow my steps. I recognized my father's immediately, but there was a woman's voice I'd never heard before.
I swallowed thickly and cupped my keys into my hand so they wouldn't make any more noise and I listened harder. I heard my name mentioned, but the voices were still too distant to make out anything else. Eavesdropping always caused false assumptions. Still, I couldn't not try to listen.
Standing in front of Dad’s office door, my heart raced a mile a minute, and I felt that impending doom fill my chest. I was a little nervous to demand anything from him, it wasn't exactly my style, but I needed answers. The voices were clearer now, and as I lifted my hand to knock, I heard someone giggle.
"Dad?" I said cheerily, opening the door.
The giggling halted and my gaze immediately landed on a woman who looked awfully familiar. I studied her for a minute, trying to place where I knew her from. She returned the stare, only she looked shocked to death.
"Adrianna?"
I turned toward my dad, who was standing behind his cherry desk looking just as surprised. I smiled and walked slowly toward him, thinking about who this woman was but wondering where Joy went.
"Hi, Dad."
He rounded the desk and put his arms out. "I'm surprised to see you," he said, his voice tense, and pulled me into a bear hug. My heart softened and I felt at home. "Why didn't you call first?"
"I figured I'd surprise you. There's something I wanted to talk to you about that couldn't wait."
Dad pulled back and looked at me, his eyes traveling the length of my body like he was making sure I was okay. "Whatever you wanted to talk about could've been done on the phone, you know. That's a long day of driving for you."
I shrugged it off. "It was actually a peaceful drive and something I needed to clear my head."
The woman to my right shifted from the corner of my eye and I glanced at her. She was still staring at me. Sunlight filtered through the room from the large window behind Dad’s desk and cast over the petite woman. God, she looked familiar and I wished I could place her. I noticed the color of her hair was a dark brown, but when she tilted her head just slightly and the sun hit it at the right angle, there was a red undertone to it.
The same undertone as mine.
Something in my chest immobilized me and my arms went numb, my fingers tingling with iciness.
Dad cleared his throat and I tried to look at him, but my gaze was locked firmly on her cobalt blue eyes. She had porcelain skin, a small but pointy nose, and I thought I caught sight of sun-kissed freckles sprinkled across the bridge of her nose the same way mine were.
She stood up and instinctively I took a step toward my dad. My knees shook and my heart pounded. She didn't move closer, and she looked scared. She was about a couple of inches taller than me but had the same exact body type as I did.
"Dad? Who is this?" I whispered, blindly reaching for him. My voice actually shook, but somehow, in the pit of my stomach, I already knew the answer.
She looked at my dad then back at me, fear showing on her face. Her gaze told a story, and it was one I had a feeling I wouldn't be prepared for.
"Adrianna?" she said, in the softest, gentlest voice I’d ever heard. She covered her mouth. And somehow, someway, I knew who she was in that moment.
I gasped, air lodged in my throat. My heart raced faster than it ever had. I couldn't deviate my gaze from hers, it was impossible when she looked at me like she'd been waiting her whole life for this moment. Breathing in, my chest rose and fell so fast it was starting to ache.
Her eyes watered and she lifted her arm and reached out like she couldn’t believe I was standing in front of her, then she pulled it back. She clasped her hands in front of her like she was struggling to stand in place. A tear rolled down her cheek.
"Adrianna, sweetie," Dad said with a bit of a wavering voice. He moved to stand to the side so he was in my vision. "This is Sophia."
"Sophia?" I whispered, testing the name out and her eyes flickered. "Sophia?"
It was the strangest thing. It was like Sophia and I were in a daze and it was only us in the room. I could feel her reaching out for me, I could feel her need to be closer, but she was scared and didn't know what she should do. Truthfully, I didn't know what to do myself. In some unexplainable way, I knew in my heart who she was the moment I’d stepped into this office, and I didn't know how to feel about that.
"She's your…" Dad paused, and swallowed. "She is your biological mother."
Another tear rolled down her cheek and something inside me chipped away. I was sad. I suddenly felt bad she'd never gotten to see her child in the flesh for nearly seventeen years, and I put myself in her place. I'd want to run to my daughter, wrap my arms around her and never let her go. But she couldn't do that since I was virtually a stranger, even though I gathered that her heart was crying out to. She probably didn't know what the right thing was to do, or how I would react. I wasn't sure how to react. She was the mother I was supposed to have but instead I grew up with Cruella de Vil, for reasons I still didn't know. But something in my gut told me those reasons were not because she didn't want me, not with how she looked like she'd been looking for me my whole life, like I was the missing piece of her heart she’d finally found.
So I took it upon myself and walked over to her until I was standing just a few inches away. I had to look up, but not by much. I put my hand out to touch her hair, and saw the color was exactly like mine. The resemblance was staggering. When I walked in and felt like she looked familiar, it was because we were practically identical. The only difference was the color of her eyes, but everything down to the heart shape of her face, the way the freckles lightly decorated her creamy skin, her full lips that were trembling, and her wide, downturned eyes, was all me.
This was why Thomas wanted to make my dad aware I was home. He’d known Sophia was in here.
"You look just like my sister," she said in awe. She stared, her eyes unblinking. Sophia's voice broke like she was on the verge of a breakdown. "It's startling." There was a slight accent to her words, but I couldn't place it. "There are so many things I want to say to you, but I don't know where to start."
Something inside me perked up. "I have an aunt?"
Her eyes watered again and this time her jaw trembled. "You had an aunt."
"Oh," was all I could say. My shoulders dropped a little.
"Her name was Francesca. She died a month before you were born."
* * *
"Francesca?"
I turned back to Dad for clarification. He walked over to us, nodding.
"This isn't exactly how I envisioned you guys would meet," he said, his voice full of regret. "I'm sorry for this."
I shook my head, baffled. "You didn't know I would be here, and I didn't know she would be either. It was just by chance." And the perfect chance, really, after what I had learned today. Only, I wasn't sure how I would broach the topic now that she was here. Was it acceptable to start digging around about her family history on the first day? Probably not.
I looked back to Sophia. "I'm named after your sis
ter?"
She nodded, but the lingering silence worried me. When she finally spoke, her voice was as soft as a stroke of a feather.
"It's where your middle name comes from. We were extremely close."
"Where does Adrianna come from?"
"Francesca and I picked it together. She loved the name Adrianna Francesca and thought it sounded good with Rossi." Sophia paused. "I can't believe how much you look like her," she said again.
"That's funny because I feel like I look like you."
She covered her mouth and I noted that her hand was shaking. "I've seen pictures of you over the years, but in person…" She shook her head in disbelief and glanced at Dad. "I've watched you do gymnastics for years. Francesca was a gymnast too."
I wasn't sure how she’d seen pictures of me, but that wasn't important right now. Dad stepped closer to her and took her hand in his, helping her sit down. I frowned. It was like they were well-acquainted. In a sense they were, but I didn't expect them to be after all these years.
Just then, Thomas walked in carrying a tray of drinks, thankfully breaking the emotional reunion. Our eyes met and guilt shown in his. I didn't fault him. I just smiled and thanked him silently. He looked relieved.
"I know you said you didn't want your coffee, Miss Rossi, but I thought you could use it."
He handed my dad a crystal tumbler of amber liquid and Sophia a tall glass with fresh mint leaves and slices of cucumber in a clear liquid.
"Is there anything else I can get you?" he asked, almost like he was begging to wait on us. We all declined and he departed the room.
Dad sat near Sophia on the love seat, and I took a spot in the cushioned chair. He crossed his leg over his knee and relaxed casually. I wanted to be angry, I wanted to yell at him and demand answers, like why she was here, why he’d lied to me months ago and told me he had no idea where she was when he clearly did, where she'd been my whole life, but I couldn't find it in me. I wanted to ask why Sophia gave me up, how much money she got for me, and how her family didn't know about me. All things my dad once told me, and yet all of that didn't matter anymore.
"Well, this is weird," I said more to myself, and took a sip of my favorite java.
"Not that I'm not happy to see you, sweetheart, but why are you here? Don't you have practice? Does Konstantin know you're here?" Dad said. "It's not usual for you to show up like this, and it has me worried."
I swallowed. He was right. Reacting on my emotions wouldn't get me anywhere, and I needed to think straight and remember why I came. I shot a nervous glance at Sophia, wondering how this would go since it was about her.
Her lips quivered. "I can leave. You probably need to talk your dad privately."
She moved to stand, but I stopped her. "No, stay. It actually kind of involves you."
They looked in my direction, both bewildered. Couldn't say I blamed them.
"Are you sure?" Sophia asked. She glanced at Dad for guidance, but he was just watching me. I nodded and took a big sip of my coffee and decided to just be out with it.
"So I went to the doctor today, and found out some interesting things." My heart suddenly started jackhammering in my chest. I was more nervous than I thought I'd be. Looking at my dad, I said, "I came home to talk to you about my biological mom to hopefully get some explanation. Imagine my shock to find her here after everything you told me."
His face fell. "Adrianna, I know you're probably upset with me over that, but I can explain."
For some unknown reason, him withholding information from me didn't bother me as much as I thought it would. Maybe when I got home tonight it would, but right now, I needed a different explanation.
"It's okay, Dad. I won't lie and say I'm not upset, because I am. I'm pretty hurt by a lot of things, but there are more important things we have to talk about right now."
Deep creases formed between his eyes. "I'm listening."
Exhaling a huge sigh, I looked down at my mug and watched the steam rise into the air. I stared at it as I spoke. "I haven't been feeling well lately. More tired than usual, headaches, my chest hurts. I thought it was because I was training too hard, pushing too hard, too many competitions and not enough rest—"
"Fucking Konstantin." Dad sneered.
I glanced up, eyes hard and defensive. "It's not his fault. He has nothing to do with this. If anything, he's the reason I went to the doctor in the first place," I said quickly. "I'm going to sum this up. The doctor asked me about my family history and I could only give her one side. At first I was fine with that because I figured there was nothing wrong with me except for exhaustion, until she came back and told me she needed to run more labs." I looked up into my dad's fearful eyes. "She believes I have an autoimmune disease, lupus, and she said my markers aren't adding up, they're still too high. Something about my red blood cells being too low and there’s protein in my urine. She's concerned about it affecting my organs." I paused, feeling my emotions rise. "She said lupus can affect my heart, lungs, and kidneys."
Sophia's glass slipped from her hands and shattered to the floor. Liquid spilled everywhere, the ice rolling over the wood floor, the mint leaves stuck on the sharp edges of the jagged pieces. She broke out in hysterical tears and in turn that made me get teary-eyed. I didn't know if it was because of what I’d just said or because she finally got to meet me and the first thing I said was that I'm sick.
"Soph," Dad said with a tenderness I didn't expect from someone he supposedly never spoke to. Dad pulled her into his arms like they were so familiar with each other and she burrowed into him, searching for comfort. He stroked her back, rocking her while she whimpered. I watched them, lost somewhere between confusion and sorrow. It was like they yearned for each other and I while I didn't understand it, I felt it and it made me so sad. Dad glanced up at me, his eyes bloodshot.
"When is your next appointment?" he asked, his voice hoarse.
"I get blood drawn tomorrow, then when I get back from camp I'll see her. So three weeks."
Sophia sniffled and wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. "I'm sorry." She cried again.
"Francesca," Dad started gently, "when she passed, it was because she was sick."
Goose bumps trailed down my arms and I looked at Sophia. Her soft cries were killing me. Dread formed in the pit of my stomach.
"Sick with what?"
Sophia looked at me. Her eyes were glossy, drowning in grief. She took a deep breath and looked at my dad. He dipped his chin like he was giving her the courage she needed to speak.
"Francesca had type 1 diabetes, but she also had another autoimmune disease on top of that." Her words shook and I felt myself on the verge of breaking down. "It was a terrible and rare one. Mixed Connective Tissue Disorder. But the diabetes is what ultimately took her life."
My lips parted in sadness. I may have only just met Sophia, but that didn't stop the tears from filling my eyes. I saw that autoimmune earlier on my phone when I was doing research, but I hadn't looked into it.
"How old was she?" I asked, nervous to hear the answer.
Her jaw quivered. "Francesca lived longer than expected," she said. "But her death was rough on me, and I think it's why I fell into such a deep depression after your birth."
"How old?" I asked again, almost afraid to learn the answer.
"Twenty."
"Twenty," I whispered. I wasn't too far from twenty, only a couple of years. Terror filled my veins and I thought back to how Sophia had just said her sister had lived longer than expected. I shifted my gaze. Swallowing thickly, I said, "Dad, you didn't think it would be important for me to know this at some point in my life?"
"I hadn't given it much thought, to be honest."
My jaw dropped, chin quivering. Tears threatened to spill over again, so I glanced up at the ceiling of his office, trying to hold them back. Learning life-altering news for the second time in one day was a lot to take in, especially when it involved death. The anxiety tightening the walls of my chest allowed this
damp, dark loneliness to intrude and take up space. I didn't like the way it felt and I wanted it gone as quick as it appeared.
"But autoimmune is hereditary. How could you not—"
"I forgot she had an autoimmune, Adrianna. I just remember the diabetes and how bad it was for her. Have you had your blood sugar checked?"
"Ah, I think so? I know the doctor ran a bunch of tests. If not, when I see her, I'll let her know about the family history."
Family. It was a word I didn't know the meaning to anymore, or who my family even was.
"Are you sick too, Sophia?" I wasn't sure if I was supposed to call her Mom or not. It felt weird just thinking about saying it. Even though she gave birth to me, she was still a stranger.
"No, I'm checked often. I'm perfectly healthy."
"Guess I'm the lucky one," I said.
We spent the next hour or so talking about Sophia's family, where I learned more about Francesca and how close they were. They were twins, actually, which was surprising. I'd once read that when a twin died something inside the surviving twin died too, that there would forever be a piece missing. Like a void. I couldn't fathom that kind of loss and my heart ached for her. She had a few old photos on her cell phone she showed me of when they were young. Sophia had been right—I did look so much like Francesca that I could have been a triplet. It was surreal.
When I left, I gave her a hug and she held on like she was afraid to let go. Her hands shook and she cried. She asked me if she could see me again, and I said yes. Dad stood to the side and watched us. He wasn't smiling or frowning, he just seemed like he was really far away, absent. I almost asked him what he was thinking about but I decided not to. I got the impression his feelings were private and he didn't want to share them.
I wasn't sure when I would see Sophia again based on my upcoming gym schedule, but something inside my heart told me it wouldn't be too long from now. It wasn't easy keeping it together. I felt bad for Sophia and the aunt I would never get to meet. But the truth was, I was terrified even more now for myself and what this could mean. It was like the universe was aligned for once in my life and some higher power knew I needed answers immediately.
