So Many Reasons Why (So Many Reasons 1)

“You’re right. I failed you as a mother.” I crossed my arms over my chest, not ready to console her just yet. The anger I felt was still so raw. “Emma. Things happened. Things I regret. You deserve to know the truth.” She motioned to the couch. The pit in my stomach deepened. What the hell could she be about to tell me? I sat down.

“When you were born, Maria was sixteen,” Mom began. “She wasn’t ready to be a mother. She was young, no job, and no way of caring for a child. She also had a drug problem. Your grandmother put her in a facility to keep her off the drugs during her pregnancy. Right after your birth, she was straight back on them.” I listened in shock. Maria was my mother. Moments of my childhood began clicking into place.

“Your father and I had been trying to have a child for three years. We saw how much Maria was struggling, and all we could think of was how much better a life we could offer you.” Mom ignored my muffled laugh. “So your father offered Maria money. To give you up to us to raise as our own.” My eyes widened. She sold me? My own mother sold me, no doubt to buy drugs.

“Holy shit.” Mom continued, ignoring my language.

“So Maria took the money and disappeared. When you were six, she turned up, wanting you back. She had turned her life around.” Mom shook her head violently. “She thought she could just turn up and take you back. My daughter.”

“So she just left?”

“To New Zealand. Your father told her if she contacted us or you again, he’d have her arrested. He had evidence of fraud she’d committed when she was younger. Evidence that would have landed her in jail.” Leaning forward on my chair, I rubbed my neck. This was all too much to digest. Standing up, I told mom to let herself out and made my way down the hall. How could this be real? There wasn’t enough drama in my life? The comfort of my bed made me feel slightly better. I wanted to call her. I needed to know why. How could she have sold me? That’s basically what it was. Money was worth more to her than I was. I opened my email and began to write.

Pressing send, I felt the weight lift off my shoulders. I had managed to cram all my feelings into a one page email. There were so many questions I needed answers to, but for now, it was enough.

“Hey.” Simon picked up on the first ring.

“Hey, I was just about to call. How are you?” His voice was so warm, I could feel how much he loved me in just his words.

“Maria is my mother.” I’d meant to ease that into the conversation. Instead, I’d just blurted it out. I filled him in on the whole story.

“Wow.” He breathed. “Your life has more drama than a Jerry Springer episode. How are you? That’s a lot for you to take in.” He added.

“It actually explains a lot to me. I called her this morning. Before I knew.”

“How did that go?”

“Well. Apart from the fact that it was 4am when I called.” I chuckled. “I don’t know, Simon. I’m so angry. At everyone.” Stretching out on the bed, I flipped over onto my stomach.

“That’s fair enough. It’s a lot to process.” He said. “Try not to be too hard on Maria, Em. Or your parents. As messed up as all this is, they were all just trying to do what was best for you.”

“Like selling me?” I laughed harshly.

“Come on Em. You know that’s not what it was about. Imagine being sixteen with a drug addiction. Alone. Would you think that was the best situation for a baby?” I hated it when he made sense. “Giving you up was probably the hardest decision of her life. That would be something you’d never get over. And she did try to get you back. That has to say something.”

I remembered that night, listening at the top of the stairs to the yelling and screaming. I hadn’t for a moment thought all that was about me.

“I have to go, Em. I love you. Call me if you need me.”

My mother had gone when I emerged from my room, hours later. I eyed a note on the bench, addressed to me. It was from her.

Emma,

I am sorry you found out this way. I need you to know that with all the mistakes I’ve made, I do love you. I love you more than anything on this earth. I love you like a daughter. My anger and resentment is not directed at you. I feel I failed you as a mother. I took you from your own mother because I thought I could offer you more. Instead, I failed you.

I hope one day you can forgive me.

Mom

Curling up on the couch, I reread the letter. Mom was my aunt. My aunt was my mom. My father was my uncle. My cousins were my half-sisters. Wow this was messed up. Simon was right. My life was like a talk show.

Something on the news caught my eye. Holy shit did I hear that right? I grabbed the remote and stabbed the volume button a few times.

“. ..Was last seen leaving school yesterday. Mandy's disappearance is described as out of character for the young girl by her friends and family. Police hold grave fears for her safety after recently released child rapist Derek Moosly was seen on CCTV footage following the girl. Moosly served ten years for the rape and torture of a thirteen year old girl in 2001.” The newsreader moved onto the next story.

I sat, shocked, anxious, and scared. And angry. Why the fuck hadn't anyone told me? I grabbed my mobile. He answered on the first ring.