A Different Blue(112)

hear. “I didn't speak up when I should have. It never seemed appropriate or timely. And then it

was too late. And honestly, the fact that I was adopted, it's irrelevant, Blue.”

“Irrelevant? How can you say that?” I cried, yanking my chin from his grasp. As if Wilson's

opinions had ever been irrelevant to me. He had become the most relevant thing in my life.

Redemption, resolution, revelation, and now relevance. I fisted my hands in my hair. “I've been

blindly trying to figure things out. I am days away from giving birth, and you don't think your

own adoption is relevant? Your perspective might have changed everything.”

“Exactly. But instead, you've come to your own conclusions, you've made your own decisions, and

that is how it should be.”

“But you said I was making a mistake,” I whispered, trying not to cry again. I looked for the

anger I had felt, but it had blown away somewhere between the restroom and the car, and I

couldn't call it back.

Wilson reached over and clasped my hands in his, turning toward me as much as the wheel would

allow.

“Blue, this whole experience has been a revelation to me.”

I tried not to recite all the R words in my head as he continued.

“I, like every human being, needed to know who I was. My parents understood that, and, unlike

what you've dealt with, there were no secrets in my life. I knew everything . . . except the

why. I never understood why my biological mother made the choice she did. I always thought if

someone really loved me, they would never give me away. Watching you go through all of this, I

think I finally understand that that isn't necessarily true.”

My eyes were glued on our clasped hands, our fingers laying side by side. I couldn't look at

him. Not when the words he spoke were so intensely personal that the glare from the truth hurt

my eyes. Wilson continued, his voice choked with emotion.

“Loving someone means putting their needs above your own. No matter what. Somehow, you figured

that out. I'll be damned if I know how, but you did. So, no. I don't think you're making a

mistake, Blue. I think you're bloody amazing. And when I get home, Jenny Woodrow is going to get

a call. She deserves a little thank you – finally – for loving me and letting me go.”

We sat quietly for several breaths, letting the emotion ebb, our hands intertwined, heat

circling the interior of the car and fogging the windows.

“What did the old man say?” I questioned softly.

“He told me not to worry. He said, 'Women cry. If she's crying over you, she still loves you,'

” Wilson tried to mimic the shaky voice of the old man. He looked at me and grinned playfully.

“He said I should only worry when you stop.”

I couldn't smile back and swiftly looked away. I was the one who should worry. Not because I had

stopped crying, but because I'd started in the first place. The old man had it all figured out.





[page]We tried to wait out the rain, but it never let up. We got back on the road only to fight

rain and snow for the next three hours. Snow in Boulder City was almost unheard of, but we were

a long way north of the Las Vegas area, and snow in Reno was commonplace. However, October snow

was not. My anxiety grew as the journey lengthened. I didn't want to whine or worry Wilson, but