Page 55 of Tear Me Apart
“Actually, honey, no. We’ve certainly not come to that point, and I seriously doubt we will, especially now. Your mother...”
He looks at Lauren, who is kneading the blanket. Mindy doesn’t think she’s ever seen her mother so upset and reaches out a hand to still hers. Lauren smiles weakly, then nods.
“Mindy, I don’t know how to say this, so I’m just going to come out with it. You’re adopted. I know this comes as a huge shock, and you will have many questions. We will answer all of them, but we want you to know, that—”
“Wait, what? I’m not dying?”
The spark of hope shoots through her like a comet. She’s suddenly on fire, as if everything is possible again. A small part of her is screaming, crying, throwing a tantrum, but the rest of her is flooded with relief.
“Not that we know. Nothing’s changed in your diagnosis.”
“But...I’m adopted? You aren’t my mother, and you’re not my father?”
The words are absurd. This is one of those bizarre nightmares where you’re dreaming inside of a dream, and you know you’re dreaming, so you tell yourself to go ahead and wake up because this isn’t fun at all.
Lauren clears her throat. “I adopted you when you were a few hours old. Your father—”
“Which one? Biological or Dad?”
“Dad. He and I met when you were only a few weeks old. We fell in love, and—”
“And I’ve always felt you were mine, peanut. I’ve never had a thought otherwise.” Jasper strokes her leg. “I’ve always loved you, from the moment you pooped on my shirt the first time.”
She doesn’t laugh, and his face falls. Why is she less mad at her dad than her mom? And is she really mad? Or is she so incandescently relieved that she isn’t staring death in the face today that she wants to scream for joy? She is confused, she’ll acknowledge that.
“Who are my real parents? My biological parents?”
“We don’t know,” Lauren says. “The story is very long and strange.”
Mindy gestures around them. “I have time. Tell me. I want to hear it all.”
They do, and Mindy listens, trying to stop her heart from fluttering every time she thinks—Adopted. I’m adopted. I’m not yours.The pain in her mother’s voice, the guilt she is clearly feeling, Mindy doesn’t know what to do with it, how to process it. Being adopted is a big deal, a huge deal, but in the face of death, in the face of her sudden plans for getting out of this life, adoption feels...dealable.
“Wait. Let me interrupt you. Can we find them?”
Jasper sits back in his chair. “We certainly hope so. Because yes, they might be a match.”
“Okay. I’m pissed at you both. Really pissed that you never told me. But I’m going to put a pin in that emotion for a moment.” God, she sounds like that stupid cow of a therapist. “Right now, I want you to go find them. I can feel this thing inside me, and it’s like my own personal monster that won’t go away. Maybe they can help fix me. I don’t want to die. I want to be cured. And when that happens, then I’ll have a hissy fit about you not telling me the truth.”
Lauren collapses into tears then, burying her face in Mindy’s lap. Mindy pets her mother’s hair and gives her father a tremulous smile.
“This isn’t what I thought you were going to tell me.”
“I gather,” Jasper says, smiling back. “You know this changes nothing about our family.”
“It makes it bigger,” Mindy replies. “And that seems like the stroke of luck we need very badly. You always told me life is ninety-nine percent about giving it your all, and one percent luck. Here’s our one percent.”
It’s a brave speech. They all hug, and Lauren continues to sniff and cry, but in the end, Mindy feels almost relieved, and a little guilty. She knows her mom would prefer she have a huge meltdown to cement their love, but considering the circumstances, who is her blood and who isn’t seems less important than finding the ones who might be able to save her.
She doesn’t think to ask why they didn’t tell her this weeks ago when it was clear she might need the transplant. That will come later.
A knock on the door and Dr. Oliver sticks his head in.
“Everything okay?”
“He knows?” Mindy asks.
“He does,” Jasper answers.
