Page 2 of Christmas at Pine Ridge Inn
Lila dropped her purse by the door, then walked to her bedroom closet. Shoved way in the back was a medium-sized cardboard box she’d taken from her parents’ house after her mother’s funeral. She’d avoided looking at it for months. Her adoptive parents were her real parents, she felt that to her core. She’d had a wonderful childhood, and they’d been her best friends as an adult. No doubt, that’s why she’d never felt the need to know more about her birth parents.
After her mother passed, it felt like a betrayal to suddenly go looking for them. But today felt different. Two weeks away from Christmas—from her birthday—it suddenly felt like the right time. Maybe just as a distraction since she didn’t have a new work project to bury herself in, but she didn’t want to overanalyze it.
Lila carried the box to her bed and lifted the lid slowly, like something might jump out at her. Inside were the few items that had come with her as a baby. There was a small teddy bear, the pale pink onesie she’d been wearing when her parents picked her up from the agency, and a tiny quilt of red, green, and white squares interspersed with patterned squares in the same colors. Her mother had saved everything for her in case she wanted them some day.
Lila had looked through these things countless times over the years, but today she found herself studying each item more carefully. The teddy bear was well-loved but simple, the kind you could buy at any department store. The onesie had faded from its original pink but showed no identifying marks. The quilt was a little worn around the edges, but the colors were still vibrant and festive.
There had to be something here that could give her a starting point. Some clue that would help her figure out more about where—and who—she came from.
Lila set the items aside and dug deeper into the box. Underneath was a manila folder she’d glanced at before but never thoroughly examined. Inside were official documents from the adoption agency, including the amended birth certificate with her adopted name and adoptive parents’ names, and correspondence between the agency and her parents.
She spread the papers across her bed, reading each one carefully. Most of the information was clinical and impersonal, but one document caught her attention: a letter from the adoption counselor to her parents dated three weeks after her birth.
The birth mother has expressed her desire that the child know she was loved and wanted, but that circumstances made it impossible for her to provide the life she hoped her daughter would have. She specifically requested that the quilt and bear accompany the child as reminders that she was cherished from her first moments.
Lila’s vision blurred as she read the words again. Her birth mother had wanted her to know she was loved. She’d read the letter once before, but it had been sometime during her teenage years. At the time, she didn’t remember that single line making her heart squeeze the way it was now.
But the letter raised more questions than it answered. What circumstances? Was her birth mother young, unmarried, facing family pressure? Or had there been something else—financial hardship, health issues, a relationship that couldn’t weather the reality of an unplanned pregnancy?
Lila picked up her phone and scrolled through her contacts until she found the number for Janet Morrison, the attorney who’d handled the estate planning for her parents. Janet specialized in family law and had been her mother’s college roommate. Maybe she knew something about navigating adoptions.
“Lila, how wonderful to hear from you,” Janet said as she answered.
“I hope I’m not catching you at a bad time.”
“Not at all. How are you holding up, honey?”
“I’m managing. Actually, I was hoping you might be able to help me with something. I’m thinking about trying to learn more about my birth family, and I wondered if you could tell me what my options are.”
There was a pause. “Of course. Are you thinking about attempting contact, or just trying to get access to information?”
“I’m not sure yet. I guess I’d like to start with information and go from there.” She wanted to do an internet search or two on this person before she decided whether it was someone she wanted to contact.
“If I remember correctly, you were born in Colorado, right?”
“Yes.” It was one of the few details Lila knew about her birth.
“I’m not well-versed in Colorado law, but I can look into it. Can you give me a couple of days?”
“Of course,” Lila said.
After hanging up, Lila carefully gathered the documents and placed them back in the folder. Soon, maybe she’d find out what was actually possible. Maybe the sealed adoption could be opened with the right legal approach. Weren’t there databases or registries that could help adoptees connect with their birth families?
A quick internet search revealed that there were indeed registries in some states. In others—like Colorado, apparently—you had to petition the court to get access to your original birth certificate, and then it was only granted if there was a valid reason, like a medical condition. After another half hour of research, she still wasn’t clear on exactly what constituted a “valid reason.”
Frustrated, Lila tossed the folder on her nightstand and shut her laptop. There was no use in her spinning her wheels trying to research it online. Janet would understand it better than she would.
She’d waited thirty-four years, what was a couple more days?
Two
Three days later, Lila sat at her dining table with her laptop open, waiting for Janet to join their video call. The manila folder lay beside her keyboard, its contents organized and ready to discuss.
Janet’s face appeared on screen, her dark hair pulled back in the same neat bun she’d worn for as long as Lila could remember. “Good morning, honey. I’ve been doing some research since you called.”
“Thank you for making time for this.” Lila held up the folder. “I have the documents from when I was adopted if you think there’s anything useful in here.”
“Why don’t you tell me what you’re hoping to accomplish? Are you looking for medical information, or are you hoping to make contact with your birth family?”
