Page 58 of Did You See Evie

“Why are we at an elementary school?”

“There she is,” Nadia says, but it’s like she’s not speaking to me. Her eyes are fixed ahead, staring at a group of children in line at the monkey bars. “You see the girl with the pigtails? Red dress?”

Sure enough, there’s a small child that matches her description waiting in line. The little girl only looks to be about six years old. She fiddles with one of her braids as she waits her turn.

“I see her,” I say.

“That’s my daughter.”

My head turns quickly enough to induce whiplash. I stare at Nadia, expecting her to burst with laughter or deliver a witty one-liner, but she’s staring ahead, a look of bewilderment on her face as she watches the young girl.

“You have a child?”

“I gave her up for adoption six years ago,” she says, eyes still on the girl. “Right before I left for California.”

My mouth hangs open, my eyes bouncing between the child on the playground and Nadia, trying to make sense of what she’s just told me. Nadia was pregnant? My mind tries to recall what life was like six years ago, but it doesn’t matter—we’d lost touch long before then. Still, it’s hard to picture Nadia with a swollen belly, going through labor.

“The father?—”

“Not in the picture,” Nadia says, before I can finish. “From the moment I found out I was pregnant, I knew what I was going to do.”

I look at the little girl again. She’s nearing the front of the line, but starting to get impatient. I can tell by the way she taps her foot against the ground. Her hands move from the ends of her braids to her narrow hips, posing. The longer I stare at her, the more clearly I can see she’s a miniature version of Nadia, attitude and all.

“Are you in contact with her?”

“It’s an open adoption, so I could reach out if I wanted to, but I never have.”

“Why?”

Nadia takes in a deep breath, closing her eyes. “For the same reason I gave her up in the first place. She’s better off without me. You know what our childhoods were like. No matter how hard I tried, I would have ended up repeating the same cycle we grew up in, and I couldn’t do that to another child.”

“You don’t know that,” I say, softly. As much as I want to believe what I just said, I can’t. The way we were raised wasn’t a choice, rather a result of what happens when no choices are left. Our parents were desperate and lacking resources, just like their parents before them, a generational chain that’s difficult to break, and when you’re in the thick of a crisis, it can feel impossible. Nadia never went to college. She never found a decent job that didn’t involve swindling other people. On the surface, she appears put together, but inside, she’s still tethered to that unhealthy dynamic.

When she expresses her fear of not being able to rise above and be better, I know exactly what she means.

“I knew I had to pick the right family. It was the most important decision I ever made. The father is a pharmacist. The mother was a teacher, even though I’m pretty sure she’s a stay-at-home mom now. She’d had an ectopic pregnancy that resulted in an emergency hysterectomy. She’ll never be able to carry a child of her own.”

“That’s awful,” I say. Connor and I have rarely talked about having children. It’s not a desire I’ve ever had, at least not yet, but I can only imagine how devastating it would be to have that choice taken away from me. To be told it could never happen.

“And here I was, young and broke with this perfectly healthy baby. It seemed like the right thing to do.” She looks down at her stomach, as though remembering. “Giving my daughter a chance at a better life. Giving them a chance to be parents.”

“I can’t believe I never knew.”

“We weren’t exactly friends at the time. I didn’t have anyone in my life, really. That’s why I headed straight to California. I enjoyed my years there because they helped me forget about her, about what I’d done.

“When I got back to town and started talking to my brother again, he told me about Evie. The whole reason I chose the adoption route was because I wanted my child to have a better life. I never knew there was already a child in our family suffering the same toxic cycles we did. She was almost a teenager already! I knew I wasn’t ready to be a parent, but I thought I could be a positive influence on Evie’s life. But Crystal wouldn’t let me near her.”

She clenches her jaw, closing her hands into fists. Her regret is visible.

“Now that Evie’s gone, it feels like I’ve missed out on two people in my life.” She lifts her head, looking back at the playground. “Sometimes, I’ll show up here after school, just to watch her. I might be a stranger to her now, but when I see that smile on her face, I know I made the right decision.”

Up ahead, the girl has finally earned her turn. She swings from one bar to the next, her little arms bending like boiled noodles, but she keeps her grip. A wide smile is plastered across her face as her feet dangle in the air. Beside me, Nadia watches her. She wears the same smile on her face, but there are tears in her eyes.

“I’m sorry, Nadia.”

“I don’t regret my decision,” she says, her voice beginning to crack. “I brought you here today because I need you to know I’ve not always been selfish. It’s not always about me. Sure, most of my life has been about putting myself first, but I am capable of doing the right thing. I did it with her, and it’s the hardest thing I’ve ever done.”

I think of our argument the other night. I’d seen the side of Nadia she’d presented since we were kids. I never knew this other layer existed. She keeps it all buried.

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