“How is she holding up?”
I stop myself from mentioning Nora’s online shopping spree for bedroom toys. It just wouldn’t set the right tone.
“Nora’s always been in her own little world,” I say. “She’s coping, I suppose. She doesn’t like to talk about tragedy. She always manages to bounce back outwardly, at least. What’s going on inside her head is anyone’s guess.”
“I can understand that,” Cherry says. “Everyone deals with grief in different ways, I suppose.”
“Like moving far away from home?”
“Something like that, yes.”
“I’m so sorry, Cherry.”
“About what?”
“That you lost your one connection with the world and that your life has been turned upside down since then. I’m sorry you’ve had to deal with it all on your own. I don’t know how I would have gotten through the last year without my family around me for support, and you’ve had no one.”
A tear rolls down her cheek, and she quickly looks away from me to wipe it off. I reach over and touch her hand, taking the wine glass from her and setting it down before I grasp her hand in both of mine.
“I’m sorry you’ve been alone through all of that, but I’m very glad that it’s brought you here to Cascade Falls so I could get to know you a little.” I reach out, briefly running the tip of my finger over her cheek to wipe away the wet streak. “I know a bit about loss myself, Cherry. I want you to know you can talk to me about it. I’m here for you if you need me.”
Another tear slips down her cheek, and I give her hand a gentle squeeze. Cherry wraps her fingers around mine as she carefully wipes away tears with the back of her hand. She leans forward for another drink of wine before turning back to me.
“I’m sorry,” she says, shaking her head. “I didn’t mean to get so melancholy. I…I appreciate the offer.”
“It’s not just a casual offer, Cherry.” I grip her hand again. “I mean it. No one should have to deal with all of this on their own.”
“Do you understand why finding my birth parents is so important to me now?”
“Yeah, I do.” I remember our conversation in the bar. “I’m sorry if I wasn’t sympathetic before. I just wouldn’t want to see you hurt, but I understand why you need to do it. If I can help in some way, please let me know.”
“I haven’t managed to figure out much of anything at this point.” Cherry pulls her hand from mine abruptly and stands. “Give me a sec.”
She puts her glass down and heads to what I presume is the bathroom. I hear her blowing her nose briefly and then water running. She returns and sits down next to me again, her eyes still red but her face clean.
“I thought once I was here,” Cherry says, “that I’d find at least something in the records, but so far, nothing.”
“Someone has to know where you came from,” I say. “Don’t you have a birth certificate?”
“I do. I had to have one to get a driver’s license. The thing is, I didn’t get my license until I was almost eighteen because my aunt couldn’t find my birth certificate. She finally came up with one, but it’s a fake.”
“How do you know that?”
“I know that because white-out doesn’t make for a good forgery.”
“I can’t argue with you there.” I laugh at the very idea. “What was changed?”
“The name and birth date.”
“How did you manage to get a license?”
“Because Accident is a small town, and Aunt Ginny had a lot of friends. She handed over the papers when I took the final driver’s test, and no one questioned it, as far as I know. If they did, they let it slide. I didn’t even really look at the birth certificate in detail until I found the adoption records.”
“So, you came here for answers.”
“Not right away. I tried finding out more on my own, but phone calls and internet searches only got me so far. Since the birth certificate was from Maryland, I started with that, but they had no record of it, of course.”
“Because the name and birthdate were invalid.”
“Exactly.”
I lick my lips, debating. I have a few ideas about finding that information, but I’m not sure I should throw that on the table, potentially exposing a part of my life I don’t want her to know about.
“The hardest part for me at first was realizing that Aunt Ginny was never my aunt at all,” Cherry says. “She’d been the only family I ever had, and I didn’t know how to process the information. I needed to find another connection, so I joined a few online support groups for adopted kids trying to find their birth parents. Everything people said suggested that it would take time, attorneys, and multiple trips to the clerk’s office. I thought if I just moved here, it would make the search a little easier.”
Cherry pauses, and I consider what she’s just told me. I can’t imagine growing up so isolated. My home had always been filled with multiple generations, and I’ve been surrounded by family members my whole life. Living with just one other person and then finding out you were never related is unfathomable.
“What has you looking so pensive?” Cherry asks.
“Pensive?” I shake my head. “I was just wondering what it would be like not to know who my parents were. That led me to wonder what it would have been like growing up away from my family—not to know who they were. It would have been a very different situation.”
“Your family is an important part of your definition of yourself,” Cherry says.
“I hadn’t thought about it in those words, but yes, very much so.” I think back
