Page 28 of Wish I Were Here
I shake my head. “Dr. Gupta is really mad. And I can’t blame him. I’m supposed to teach four classes, plus I have three committee assignments and a roster of twenty-eight students to advise. Not to mention the fact that we were going to collaborate on several research papers, the first one due in October. If I can’t do the job, who is going to cover all that?”
“If you can’t do the job, who cares who’s going to write your research papers?” Luca scoffs. “Maybe instead of being mad, this Dr. Gupta could offer a little bit of support.”
It’s not much of a different sentiment than what crossed my mind just a few minutes ago. But Luca doesn’t get it. They chose my application out of hundreds of qualified candidates. I sat through three interviews, conducted a teaching demonstration, and presented my research to select mathematics faculty. It’s not easy to go out and find a replacement. If I don’t locate that birth certificate, if I can’t prove that I exist, I’ll be leaving them in the lurch.
And I’ll be in the lurch, too. But I can’t think about that. I can’t think about how everything I’ve worked for my entire life is about to add up to a big, fat zero. Or the fact that Dad let me down, again. Because if I do, I might just sit down in the grass and cry.
To my great mortification, the tears well up anyway.
“Hey,” Luca says, stepping into my line of sight, his face creased with concern. “Hey, it’s going to be okay.” Once again, he takes my arm, and this time he tugs me over to a bench on the edge of the lawn. “We’ll figure this out. We just need a plan.”
I give a watery laugh at the irony of Luca lecturing me about plans. I always have a plan, a to-do list, charts and graphs and spreadsheets. But right now, I have absolutely nothing.
Luca sinks down next to me. “It sounds like your mom has your birth certificate. So we just need to find your mom.”
“That’s impossible.”
“Nothing’s impossible.”
“This is. I don’t know anything about her except that she walked away on the day I was born, and she never looked back.” I swipe at my wet cheeks.
Luca leans forward, propping his arms on his knees so he can look me in the eye. “What about your dad? What has he told you about her?”
I shrug. “He’s never talked about her. He’s never said a single thing about who she is, or where she comes from, or why she left. When I ask, he does the same thing you saw him do today. He closes up and walks away.”
“And you have no idea why?”
“No. Over the years, I’ve imagined all sorts of scenarios.” I stare at my hands. “Maybe she left us because she has a top-secret government job and had to move overseas to fight terrorists and save the world. Or maybe she’s an infectious disease doctor, living in a remote jungle, stopping viruses that could wipe out humanity. Or maybe she’s in Antarctica researching the polar ice caps, figuring out how to keep them from melting and turning Kansas into beachfront property.”
I realize what I’ve revealed, and my gaze flies to Luca’s. This missing identity really is messing with my head, because I’ve never told anyone my secret fantasies about my mother.
He’s looking at me with an expression I can’t quite decipher. It’s probably pity.
“But,” I continue. “The truth is, she’s probably nothing more than a deadbeat. Just an ordinary woman who didn’t care enough about her daughter to stick around.”
Luca abruptly sits up. “I guess there’s only one way to find out.”
I look at him sideways. “What are you suggesting?”
“Your dad says she has your birth certificate. You need that birth certificate to save your job. So I’m suggesting we find her.”
“Like I said, that’s impossible. I know literally nothing about her.”
“You know what’s on your birth certificate. You know her name and the city where you were born. That’s not nothing.”
Before I can answer, my stomach growls so loudly I know Luca can hear it. Breakfast was supposed to be served at the orientation this morning, and since I got up so early, I didn’t eat before I went. And then, of course, I wasn’t invited to sit down at the faculty luncheon. So the only thing in my stomach is the cup of coffee I drank from my travel mug while I waited for orientation to begin.
Luca’s eyebrows rise. “Let’s get you a snack.”
There’s a food truck parked next to the lawn that’s selling smoothies and bubble tea. He stands, reaching in his pocket and pulling out his wallet. “How about a smoothie? You strike me as a blueberry acai kind of girl. Lots of antioxidants. But if you want chocolate and peanut butter, just say the word.”
I wave him off. “Let me get it. You’ve been driving me all over town.”
I approach the food truck counter, and when it’s my turn to order, Idorequest a blueberry acai, because antioxidants are good for me. And then I order a chocolate and peanut butter for Luca because… obviously.
The cashier tells me my total, and I slide my bank card into the machine. After a moment, it beeps and the words on the screen tell me to remove my card. But instead of processing my payment, the screen flashes with one more word.
Declined.
