Page 39 of Jam and Jingle Bells
“Well,” I began, swallowing over the dry lump in my throat, “you know I’ll be twenty-six in a month.” She nodded and her eyes went slitty, as though she knew something was about to change. “In light of the fact that I’m a grownup, I have my own business, and I’m a responsible adult, I was hoping you’d finally tell me what my father’s name was.”
She swung her head back and forth instantly. “No, I told you, I’ll never tell you his name.” Her arms crossed over her chest in finality.
“I know you did, but Mom, listen. I don’t care about him. I’m not trying to have a relationship with him, but what if he had other kids? I could have siblings out there I don’t even know I have.”
“Half siblings,” she corrected and I shrugged.
“Family is family and family means everything, Mom.”
“I’m your family. Stan is your family. Mel, Mason, Holly, Ivy, they’re your family. That’s all you need.”
“And you are all wonderful, but having extra family never hurts. Not to mention, I’d like to know if there are any genetic conditions that run in the family before I have children. Look at Ellis, he has a syndrome that nearly killed him.”
She tipped her head and suddenly looked interested again. “What syndrome?”
“Romano something?”
“Romano-Ward?” she asked and I snapped my fingers nodding. “That’s a condition that messes with the electrical system of the heart.”
I laughed, but not in an amused way. “It sure did. Damn near killed him. He has a pacemaker now. Please, don’t distract me with talk of Ellis. My point is, I want to know if I could pass something like that on to my kids before I have them.”
“I can tell you he doesn’t have any other kids, Addie, and now he’s too old to have any.”
I licked my lips, not done with the conversation. “You keep track of him?”
“I used to,” she admitted. “I wanted to make sure he didn’t come after you.”
“When did you stop checking on him?”
“When you were sixteen. It no longer mattered when you were that close to being an adult. Once you were an adult, I couldn’t stop him from contacting you. I didn’t think he’d bother though, and I was correct. He doesn’t care about us, Addie. Don’t open this can of worms.”
“You’re telling me the last time you checked on him was almost ten years ago. A lot can change in ten years. Besides, men are never too old to have children. He’s only in his forties.”
She shook her head. “Let me be clear because this won’t change, you’ll never know his name.”
“Mom, I know you think you have to protect me, but you don’t. I’m a grown woman and I have no intention of asking him to be part of my life. I just want to know about the piece of me that’s missing. If you knew someone out there had a piece of information that would put to rest all the questions you’ve asked about yourself for years, wouldn’t you do anything to get that information?”
“Let it go, Addie. He was a sperm donor, nothing else.”
“You’re wrong, Mom,” I hissed, my chin trembling with anger more than anything. “He was my father. I know he hurt you when he walked away and I would never disrespect the pain, anger, and hard work you had to go through to raise me alone, but he was something to me. I’m only here because of him and I think I deserve to know his name.”
“No, you want to know his name, there’s a difference.”
“There’s also a difference between protecting and disrespecting, Mom. When I was a kid, you were protecting me. Now, you’re just disrespecting my wishes and needs in order to protect your own.”
She sat back against the booth as if I’d physically slapped her. “Addison Nicole Collop, now who is being disrespectful?”
“Still you, Mom,” I said, my voice steely cold. It had to be or I was going to break down in tears and never get answers to the questions that had eaten at me slowly for years. “I understand that you’re with Stan now and the idea of my father walking back into our lives scares the ever-loving crap out of you, but what does it matter at this point? It’s been twenty-six years. He had plenty of chances to walk back through that door and he never did. He doesn’t want us.”
“That’s what I’m trying to tell you!” she exclaimed loudly, too loudly.
Ivy glanced at us sharply and I held up my hand to keep her from coming over.
“And I’m trying to tell you I understand that I’m not going to have arunning through the field of flowers reuniting with himscenario. I’m after information, nothing else. If I do a dig and find out he has no kids, then I’ll do some public record searches to see what his relatives have died of in the past and make a list of possible issues. If there’s something glaring, like a large number of family members dying of the same thing, then there might be a concern for a deeper contact to find out why. I can do the initial digging without him ever knowing. That’s why we have the internet.”
“There’s a reason he’s not on your birth certificate, Addie,” she answered as if she hadn’t heard a word I said.
“I know, so that I wouldn’t know his name, who he was, or where he lived. It was also so I wouldn’t ask questions you didn’t want to answer when your heart was already broken by him. I get it, Mom. I’ve never claimed not to, but that doesn’t change the fact I only know half of myself. The rest of me feels like a mystery I can never solve if I don’t know his name.”
