A Different Blue(157)

Wilson repeated. “History and books.”

“Oh!” I responded, understanding.

“Meeting my parents had me questioning myself for the first time ever. I suddenly wondered if I

really wanted to be a doctor. I found myself thinking about what would make me happy. I thought

about lights and sirens.” Wilson's lips quirked, a hint of a smile. “I thought about how I

wanted to share everything I learned with anyone who would listen. In fact, I drove my parents

and my sisters crazy, constantly reciting this or that historical fact.”

“St. Patrick?”

“St. Patrick, Alexander the Great, Leonidas, King Arthur, Napolean Bonaparte, and so many

others.”

“So being a doctor lost some of its luster.”

“It had never held any luster, and once I realized that, I told my dad I wasn't going to

medical school. I had kept my mouth shut until graduation, quietly making different plans while

my dad continued to map out my future. I told him I wanted to teach, hopefully at a university

someday. I told him I wanted to write and lecture and eventually get my doctorate in history. He

found out that I had contacted my birth parents and blamed my change of heart on my trip. He was

furious with me and my mother. We fought, we yelled, I left the house, my father was called to

the hospital, and I never saw him alive again. You've heard that part of the story.” Wilson

sighed heavily and pulled his hand through his hair.

“Is that what you meant when you said meeting your birth parents was dreadful . . . because it

set so many other things in motion?”

“No. Although, I guess it could be construed that way. It was dreadful because I was so

unbelievably confused and lost. Two feelings I'd never felt before, ever. I know, I lived a

sheltered life, didn't I?” Wilson shrugged. “I met two people who were very different from the

people who raised me. Not better, not worse. Just different. And that's not a slight against my

mum and dad. They were good parents, and they loved me. But my world was rocked. On the one

hand, I was very confused about why Jenny and Bert couldn't have made it work for my sake. Had I

meant so little to them that they passed me along to a rich doctor and his wife and went their

merry way, washing their hands of me?”

I winced, knowing intellectually that this wasn't about me. But there was guilt all the same. I

wondered if Melody would ask me the same question someday. Wilson continued.

“On the other hand, I suddenly came to realize that I didn't want the things I always thought I

wanted. I wanted to pursue things that made me happy, and I wanted a certain amount of freedom

that I had never experienced. And I knew that meant taking a very different road from the one

I'd been on.”

“I can understand that,” I whispered.

“Yes. I know.” Wilson's eyes met mine, and there was a heat there that had my heart doing a

slow slide inside my chest. How was it that he could look at me that way yet manage to hold me

all night long without a single kiss?

“The last week in England, I left Manchester and took a coach to London. Alice is a lot less

protective of me than the rest of my family. She kind of shrugged and said, 'Have fun, don't get

killed, and make sure you're back here in a week to catch your flight home.' I met up with some