Page 100 of You're So Vine
“I was adopted out as a baby,” Debra tells us. “I had a great childhood, adored my parents. Never felt the need to trace my birth family. Until I saw that photo. In that moment, I became obsessed.”
A short, husky laugh turns into a cough. Shelby picks up the water. It’s in a lidded plastic beaker with a straw. Shelby carefully helps Debra drink. We wait, all of us barely breathing, until she’s okay to continue.
“I didn’t want to upset my parents,” she says. “So, I searched for my adoption records without telling them. Found my adoption was closed. My birth mother was likely single and young, maybe even underage. Likely her own parents wanted her to be able to start a new life without the shame hanging over her.”
“Very likely,” says Frankie. I remember that she’s just started practising as a family lawyer. “You were born in the 1960s, when there was still a huge stigma around being an unwed mother. They called it the Baby Scoop Era; closed newborn adoption was at its highest ever. Wasn’t until the mid-1970s that they figured this wasn’t healthy for anyone.” She adds in a mutter, “Just another example of how hard the patriarchy sucks.”
Debra smiles at her, and then at Lee. “Smart women in our family.”
Tyler and Jackson exchange a look. That Frankie catches.
“Feeling a little shrinkage in your manhood region?” she asks with a grin. “Don’t worry, boys. We’re coming for the system, not the individuals.”
I hear Ava chuckle and know if my sister were here, she’d be applauding. If Ava and I have daughters, they’re going to rule the world.
“And now, back to Debra,” says Jackson pointedly.
“I don’t know whether you want to hear this next bit,” she says, raising an eyebrow. “Doesn’t paint me in a good light.”
“We’re all weirdos here,” says Shelby. “So don’t you worry about that.”
“Speak for yourself!” protests Nate.
“Sweetness, you’re as weird as they come,” says Shelby affectionately. “That’s why I love you.”
Nate seems about to object, but then he blinks, shuts up and sits back.
“Weirdos of the world unite,” murmurs Ava, and I try not to laugh.
“All right, here goes,” says Debra. “I stalked your mother. At first online, and then in person. From her Instagram, I knew your mom had moved to the coast, but I also knew she spent a lot of time back in Flora Valley, in Verity and at the vineyard. There was a job going at Martinburg High, so I applied for it. When I got it, I quit my job in San Francisco, sold my apartment, and bought a property just out of Verity. Moved here over the summer…”
She pauses and, for the first time, looks uncertain.
“I went a little crazy. Dyed my hair and wore dark glasses so no one would spot the resemblance. Worked out what your mom’s schedule was, followed her whenever I could. Started asking about her around town in Verity. I wanted to know what kind of person she was…”
Her eyes cut to Lee. “I never did ask who tipped you off?”
“Iris at the Cracker Café,” replies Lee, with an apologetic half-smile. “She thought you might be from the IRS. Iris has a deep distrust of all forms of governmental authority.”
Nate scowls. “She distrusts the whole of humanity. I still have to double-check whether she’s slipped ground glass in my key lime pie.”
“Iris is a pistol, all right,” says Debra. “If I weren’t an English teacher, I’d add ‘literally’.”
Tyler speaks for the first time. “I’m a teacher, too. Elementary.”
He was always the quiet kid in the family. Guess when you have Jackson for an older brother, there’s no point in competing for attention.
“Enjoy it?” Debra asks.
“Love it,” is Tyler’s reply. “Though I’m still trying to come to grips with TikTok.”
“I refused all forms of social media on principle,” says Debra. “Until I started to stalk your mother. Then I was all over everything like a rash.”
“Mom, what did you think when Iris said there was someone asking about you?” asks Frankie.
“I didn’t know what to think,” says Lee. “I had no idea who it could be.”
“Why don’t you take the story from here?” Debra suggests.
