Chasing Abby(10)

Just a few simple, corny words and everything has changed. Just a few words and I have… hope.



Chapter 6 - Brian
A PANG OF GUILT twists inside my chest when I open the safe-deposit box. Between the holidays and three weeks standing vigil at Abby’s bedside in the hospital, we never made it here to deposit the pictures of Abby before Christmas, as per our agreement with the Knights. I’d like to leave a note of apology for not having the updated photos deposited in time, but Lynette and I both agreed we shouldn’t communicate with them until we’re ready for them to meet Abby. Besides, if we tell them Abby was in the hospital, it will just worry them unnecessarily. She’s fine now. For the most part.
I carry the metal box to the chair in the back of the room and set it down on the plastic seat. Reaching into my coat pocket, I pull out a stack of pictures of Abby I had developed yesterday during a trip to the drugstore. I open the small plastic case hanging from my keychain and lift out the memory card. I remove the stack of pictures and the memory card the Knights left for us and replace them with the ones I brought with me. Then I tuck the Knights’ photos and memory card into my coat pocket and heave a deep sigh.
I’ve been doing this every year since Abby was a toddler and I’ve never felt like I was doing anything wrong, until today. I feel like a damn thief, stealing my daughter’s memories and tucking them away in a box inside my closet until a time when I determine she’s ready to experience them.
When they brought Abby out of the hospital room more than thirteen years ago, all I wanted to do was hold her in my arms. Then they told us she hadn’t scored a two on the five-minute Apgar test. Her heart rate was slower than 100 beats per minute. They told us they would check her again at ten minutes post-birth. But they never did. They rushed her into surgery three minutes later.
I’ve recalled that day with such shame for thirteen years. My first reaction to Abby’s eight-minute-old body being wheeled away into a surgical suite was to make sure the nurses knew that the birth mother was not to be made aware of Abby’s problems. In my mind, she was my baby and bringing Claire into the situation would only complicate matters. I’d read about “failed adoptions” where the biological mother changed her mind after giving birth. Of course, Claire found out about Abby’s heart four months later when Chris Knight’s lawyer contacted us.
But not a single day went by when I didn’t wonder what would have happened if we had told Claire about Abby’s heart right when she was born. Would she have changed her mind about the adoption? Or would she have given us some critical piece of information that could have helped Abby? Would Claire have taken better care of Abby’s heart?
I can’t even fathom the answers to these questions anymore. Abby is my baby. She always will be, whether or not we introduce her to Claire and Chris.



Chapter 7 - Abby
Three days before

THE MALL PARKING LOT is packed, as usual, but Caleb manages to eke out a parking space near the entrance to the food court. He pulls his convertible 1967 Plymouth Barracuda into the space and kills the engine, but he doesn’t move.
“Put up the top. It’s supposed to rain,” I say, scooping my purse off the floor by my feet.
Caleb grabs my hand before I can exit the car. “Wait. We need to talk.”
I sigh and drop my purse onto my lap. “I’m fine, okay? I don’t want to talk about my birthday anymore.”
Caleb has been trying to make me talk about my upcoming eighteenth birthday for the past two months, but I’m not going to do it. In three days, I will be eighteen years old when I wake up. Then, and only then, will I decide whether or not I’m going to visit the safe-deposit box in Raleigh. I know myself. If I try to make that decision now, it will be too difficult to change my mind later.