Kay’s Story (Part Ten)

Stop! This is the tenth episode!

Looking for the beginning of Kay’s Story?

• Kay (Part one) (thinkinlikegavroche.wordpress.com)
• Kay (Part Two) (thinkinlikegavroche.wordpress.com)
• Kay (Part Three) (thinkinlikegavroche.wordpress.com)
• Kay (Part Four) (thinkinlikegavroche.wordpress.com)
• Kay (Part Five) (thinkinlikegavroche.wordpress.com)
• Kay (Part Six) (thinkinlikegavroche.wordpress.com)
• Kay (Part Seven) (thinkinlikegavroche.wordpress.com)
• Kay (Part Eight) (thinkinlikegavroche.wordpress.com)
• Kay’s Story (Part Nine) (thinkinlikegavroche.wordpress.com)

 

 The sizzle of an omelet in a hot skillet and the smell of cooking onions filled Kay’s tiny kitchen. She took a leisurely sip of cold orange juice, leaned back against the counter and sighed contentedly.

Pop! The toaster dispensed two perfect golden brown slices of bread and Kay slid them onto a rather unique looking plate which she set on the table. Her dishes were one of her quirky indulgences. She had searched high and low for just the right set, finally settling on a mixed batch of handcrafted pottery glazed with drips of browns, greens, and blues.

Soon everything was cooked and she sat down to her humble feast. Mmmhmm. The first bite was pure bliss; a perfect balance between sharp cheddar, salty eggs, and savory onion.  Kay reached for the envelope and began reading as she ate. She thumbed through the pages and saw that most of them were forms to be filled out. The first page, however, was a printout from a website:

Leslie Calvin Brown and his twin brother, Wesley, were born on February 17, 1945, on the floor of an abandoned building in Liberty City, a low-income section of Miami, Florida.

Their birth mother, married at the time to a soldier stationed overseas, had become pregnant by another man and went to Miami secretly to give birth to her sons. Three weeks later, she gave them away. At six weeks of age, both boys were adopted by Mamie Brown, a 38-year-old unmarried cafeteria cook and domestic. The importance of her entrance into his life, Brown concludes, was immeasurable.

‘Everything I am and everything I have I owe to my mother,’ he told Rachel L. Jones of the Detroit Free Press. ‘Her strength and character are my greatest inspiration, always have been and always will be.’

 

Makayla’s spidery handwriting filled the bottom of the page:

Kay, I included this story for a reason. Contrary to popular opinion, single adoptive mothers can and have succeeded. If you have taken into account all the sacrifices you will have to make and still decide it’s worth it, don’t let anyone talk you out of adoption just because they think only couples can raise an adopted child to be a healthy member of society.

Just then, as if on cue, Kay’s cell phone rang.

“Hi Mom.” Kay rolled her eyes and tried to swallow her annoyance.

“Kay! You finally answered! What’s up?”

“Well, I turned off my phone this morning and I totally forgot to turn it on until just a little while ago. I was going to call you momentarily anyway.”

“So? Did you listen to my messages?”

“Yes, mother. Mom… you know Mrs. Peabody always takes everything she hears and then passes it on with her own conclusions added in!”

“Oh good, so the part about you adopting isn’t true?”

Kay could hear the relief in her mother’s voice. She almost wanted to say no, that it wasn’t true, just to postpone the inevitable verbal barrage she knew was coming. Kay took a deep breath.

“About that, Mom… it is partly true. I am looking into the possibility of adopting the baby I found. I can’t help but believe that it was more than chance. You and I both believe in God. I see His fingerprints all over this. But I haven’t made an official decision yet.”

“Kay, you are adopting a baby and this is the first I hear of it? First of all, since when do I have to hear about something this huge in your life from someone I hardly know? You are my baby, my only child! I remember when you were a little girl, you told me your secrets before you told your best friend! You’ve been so consumed, almost obsessed. You’re at that hospital every spare minute, I know you are. And this—this is just craziness, Kay. I know you have a soft heart, but adopting a baby on your own? This isn’t some stray puppy you are taking in, this is a human being! Th­is an 18 year commitment, minimum!

“Mom! I know! I’m not a teenager anymore. I know how big this is! And I just told you, I’m not adopting her yet. I am researching, I’m not jumping in blindly. And I’m sorry I didn’t tell you before now. It’s just that… I’m never good enough for you anymore. You try to change me, to make me what you wish you could have been. But I’m not you, Mom! I never have been.”

Dead air held its own for a full 60 seconds. Then, Kay heard what sounded like a sniffle on the other end.

“Mommy?” Kay’s voice quivered ever so slightly. “Mom? Mom, I’m sorry. I’m sorry. Talk to me. Please?”

Her mother answered in a voice as cold as ice. “I think enough has been said for one night. Don’t you?” The connection clicked softly and went dead.

“Mom?” Mom!” Kay’s cell phone slipped from her hand and she started to cry, sobbing like she hadn’t in years.

To be continued…

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