Page 2 of The Torment of Two

Except…there’s neither.

It’s filled with papers and pictures.

A laugh bubbles out of me. I knew it! Stupid Dax is wrong! I’m about to close it when a picture catches my eye. It’s the window from my room. I love that window. Dad says it’s original to the house and really, really old. The stained glass is pretty to look at.

I pull the picture out from beneath some papers to inspect it closer. It’s not my room, though. Well, it is, but it’s missing the Legos on the shelves. And where are the model airplanes Pops helped me build? They’re usually hanging by dental floss from the ceiling.

My eyes leave the shelves in the picture and land on the color of the wall. Pink. Ew. Why is the wall pink? It’s supposed to be navy blue like it is now.

In the center of the room, my bed isn’t there like it is now. There’s a baby’s crib with frilly pink blankets instead.

Above the bed, it says, “Gemma.”

My stomach starts to ache. I don’t like the gross feeling I’m having. Something doesn’t feel right.

Maybe this picture belonged to the family before us who lived here.

Or maybe I had a sister and she died.

I don’t like that thought. There could be more pictures to give me clues. I set the picture down to dig in the trunk some more. I find the adoption papers from when my dads took me home when I was just two years old. Since I don’t care to learn anything about my birth mother, who clearly didn’t love me enough to keep me, I’m not interested in reading all those boring papers.

An envelope under the pile of papers sticks out. It’s pink and written in girly handwriting, addressed to Dad and Pops.

Dearest Leo and Grant,

I’m so sorry, but I’ve decided to keep the baby. I know you were so excited to start your family and this will ruin everything. I’m gutted for you. Believe me, I’ve cried a lot over this because I know how badly the two of you want to be parents.

When we started this whole process, I didn’t think Nathan would choose to stay with me if he knew I was pregnant. But he did, and we’re planning to get married. I’m going to be the best mom, I promise. I believe you’ll find a different baby to love and care for that was meant to be.

Please find it in your heart to forgive me. I never meant to hurt you. If it will make you feel any better, I decided to keep the name you chose for her to honor you both if it turns out to be a girl like Leo’s psychic said it would be.

As sad as this is, I think it’s best if we don’t contact each other again. It’s too painful for everyone involved.

Sincerely,

Jamie Booker

They were going to adopt a baby girl before me? I was their second choice. Dad and Pops always tell me I’m their entire world. But I almost didn’t get to be a part of it.

When they adopted me, I was no longer a baby. I was young, though. So young, I didn’t even know my own name. The only word I’d say was “two” at the time of my adoption, which is how I came to get the nickname Two.

Did all the families before my dads want a baby? Why else would I be fixated on that word? Was I asked my age a lot? Did my dads feel sorry for me and adopt me even though I wasn’t the baby they wanted?

This is much worse than discovering Santa isn’t real. All the loving, happy stories my dads told me about the magical creation of our family was more of a fairy tale than Santa.

They lied to me.

They didn’t tell me there was a girl before me who they wanted badly enough to decorate an entire room for her.

I’m going to be sick.

My cheeks grow wet with tears and I shrivel inside. Dax never cries, but I cry over the stupidest stuff. This certainly feels stupid.

I’m second best.

Two seems fitting of a name for a kid no one ever wanted.

The sound of the garage door opening has me jolting. I quickly shove everything back into the trunk, close the lid, and move the coats to hide it once more. By the time I exit their bedroom, Dad is coming through the garage door into the house. I swipe all the tears off my face and force a neutral expression.

---