Page 68 of Quiet Longing

I stared at my hands in my lap, a short silence falling.

“And what did Dad think?” I asked in a whisper. “Was he on your side or theirs?”

Pain flashed across her features. “Honestly, I think your father was torn. One part of him wanted me to feel secure and happy as your mother while another part he didn’t voice probably thought you should know the truth of where you came from. I could see that conflict in him, but I selfishly let him live with it because I was too fearful and insecure.”

Poor Dad. To me, he’d always seemed like such a cheerful, carefree guy, but he’d lived with a secret conflict for all those years. Maybe it showed how much he really did love Mom even if he still mourned Nadine. He’d started a whole new life with Mom and kept the secret so she could feel safe in our little family.

“I understand if you hate me,” she went on in a watery voice. “It was despicable, keeping the truth from you and taking you away from Jo and her sisters. I let my selfishness and fear take over.”

“I don’t hate you.” It was true. In my mind, she was my mom, the only one I’d ever known. She loved me and raised me, made sure I never had a worry in my mind about who I was or where I came from. Yes, it was a selfish and flawed decision she’dmade, but maybe, ultimately, she wasn’t completely wrong to do it. Maybe growing up oblivious to my birth mother’s illness and suicide was better.

Then I thought of Aunt Jo who was still my aunt, but not by marriage as I’d always believed. How awful must it have been for her, having to lie and pretend like her sister never existed? I remembered the morning when Nuala’s Aunt Julia, who was actuallymyaunt, too, had looked at me like she’d wanted to burst into tears.

Her expression had stayed with me. It confused me, and now, I knew why.

“I don’t know what to say,” I finally responded, and Mom scooted closer, putting her arm around my shoulders, and I let her. I knew it had to be terrifying to tell me all that, just lay everything bare when it was going to reflect so badly on her. With Dad dead, I was all she had in the world, and I refused to reject her despite what she’d done. She’d devoted her life to me when she’d had no reason to. I’d gotten to grow up with both a mom and a dad who loved me, and that was far more than I might’ve had otherwise. So, even though the lie was terrible, and I hated what it must’ve done to Aunt Jo and her sisters, I couldn’t hate Mom for it. Yes, it was terribly selfish, but she’d just been trying to survive the best way she could, forge a life, and lying was the only way she knew how to do that.

“You don’t have to say anything, honey. Just know that I love you. I’ve loved you from the moment I laid eyes on you, and that will never change. As far as I’m concerned, you’re mine, and you always will be.”

We sat quietly after that, staring out at the waves, letting the squawks of seagulls float over our heads. “We should head back,” Mom said after a time.

I glanced at her. “You go. I’m going to walk some more. Clear my head.”

Mom nodded soberly, studying me a moment, her eyes tracing my features as she reached out and stroked a hand over my hair. The look in her eyes had emotion catching in my throat. She looked at me like she might lose me, like I might disappear any second. I didn’t know what to say to reassure her that it wasn’t going to happen. My thoughts were still too muddled to put together the right words.

Finally, she squeezed my shoulder softly and went. I sat there for another while then took a walk along the beach. I walked until my feet developed blisters, but I’d needed the time alone with my thoughts. Time to sort through everything in my head.

When I finally returned to the house, Aunt Jo answered the door, her face etched with concern. As soon as I saw her, I threw myself into her arms and hugged her tight. When I pulled back, her eyes were shiny with tears. I finally knew the truth, and there was catharsis in it for her. Relief. She led me into the living room and served me tea.

Mom came downstairs, and the three of us sat for hours talking, with Jo forgiving Mom and Mom crying that she didn’t deserve forgiveness. Jo gave me a bunch of old pictures of Nadine, and I was glad to have them. Even though I still loved my mom, and nothing would change that, I couldn’t deny there was a curiosity in me about my birth mother. A little fear, too. I felt for her, had great empathy for her condition, even if she did abandon me at the hospital, but I didn’t want to end up like her. Sadly, biology was often a lottery.

After a while, Nuala joined us, and the story was told all over again. My cousin teared up hearing the truth, her hand latched on mine the entire time. We were still cousins, just not in the way we’d thought. Julia came over, and I got to know the aunt I never knew I had. Arrangements for a video call with my other aunt, Faye, who lived in Australia, were made, and it was alla little bit overwhelming. Mom drifted off to take a nap, and I worried about her. I hoped she didn’t feel that just because I was bonding with Jo and Julia, listening to stories about Nadine, that I loved her any less. It was her decision to lie, and though I might not agree with it morally, I could tell it was a weight she’d carried for too long. She’d suffered for it, and I didn’t want her to suffer. We’d already been through enough when we’d lost Dad.

Later that night, I found Rhys playingMario Kart, and just the sight of him was a relief to me. It had been a crazy day, and I still wasn’t sure I’d gotten my head around everything. I felt like I was walking about in a daze.

“Hey,” he said, putting down the controller and straightening when he saw me.

“What are you doing hiding away in here?” I asked as I lowered onto the couch next to him and snuggled into his side.

Rhys scratched at the light stubble on his jaw. “It seemed like there was some intense family stuff going on with your mam and Jo, so I thought I’d make myself scarce.”

“Right,” I said, blowing out a breath. “Intense family stuff. You don’t know the half of it.”

Rhys held my gaze, his hand moving along my hip before rubbing soothing circles into my lower back. “Tell me,” he urged, and just like that, the floodgates opened. I told him everything. He sat quietly and listened, and it was exactly what I needed. Just as I’d been there for him when everything had been going on with his dad, he was there for me in return.

With my mom and my aunts, I’d been trying to be mature, to take the news in a way that didn’t upset anyone else, but with Rhys, I could let my emotions flow. I could tell him all my pain and fear over hearing I wasn’t who I believed I was my entire life.

Rhys was so considerate and understanding. He was the perfect sounding board.

That night when I went to bed, I couldn’t stop thinking about Nadine, my birth mom. I held onto one of the pictures Jo had given me. It was a simple photo of Nadine standing outside the Colosseum in Rome during a family vacation. She looked so happy in it. You’d never guess the fate that awaited her. She must’ve been so terrified when she’d received her diagnosis, so distraught and unable to escape the fears that plagued her. I knew schizophrenia was a scary condition, one that required lifelong treatment, but that was the extent of my knowledge. Most of what I knew came from TV and movies. Those portrayals weren’t likely to be fully accurate, but there was definitely a stigma attached to the illness.

Was that why she took her life? Was she not strong enough to face having a newborn with that kind of fear hanging over her? Strangely, I wasn’t angry. I didn’t hate her for giving up because I wasn’t in her shoes, but I could certainly understand her terror. That same terror was beginning to seep into me. What if a similar future was waiting for me? What if, in a few years’ time, I received the diagnosis that Nadine had?

The questions kept me from sleeping, and when I did, it was fitful.

I spent the next day with my mom. We went into the city and had lunch, strolled through some of the parks and did a little shopping. The atmosphere between us was subdued, and she kept shooting me these worried glances like I was going to turn around and yell that I hated her, that I could never trust her again after she’d lied to me.

I tried to reassure her, let her know that I might have new aunts and new family to possibly get to know, but as far as I was concerned, she was still my number one. She was flawed, but she was mine, and this new information wouldn’t change that. My life had turned out better for her being in it, and I would always be grateful to her for that. Without her, I might neverhave known a mother’s love. The way she’d gone about it was messed up, but that didn’t negate the fact she’d taken a small, defenceless child and given her the care she’d needed.

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