Your long lost son

“A true con artist must believe in the con as much as the recipient; only then can they remind themselves it is in fact not real”

- Memoire of Louise Mcrowe.

“I am your son”

Nervousness wracks my body, this is the big day. The day where i may have a family. The lady’s face pales at my words. Her reaction makes me cringe back. Maybe I should’ve sent a letter or friend request on Facebook to message her the news.

She’s shorter than i expected, possibly 5 foot 6 with grey hair streaked with white. Coiled in a messy bun on top of her head. I scan her face, looking for features that match mine.

“Jacob?”

She’s afraid too. We both are. Words fail me, i can only nod in confirmation. I chose a navy button up, with straight legged jeans. I wanted to be put together for this. To tell her I’m ok. That i have been managing life well on my own.

The last thing i wanted was her to feel like i only showed up in her life because i had no where else to turn to.

She wears a cream cardigan over a rose coloured shirt. Which she smooths down with a shaky hands as she steps back gesturing me to come inside.

Her black flowy pants, the kind that hippies wear takes me by surprise too.

“I cant believe it” She whispers, as i step past her. It’s a nice, open laid house. I have stepped right into her living room. It’s massive, to the left of me, sits a L shaped green velvet couch, facing a gigantic flat screen T.V. Large art pieces hang all over the walls with a large burgundy dining table of six taking up the right side of the room.

Louise shuts the door behind me. I turn to face here, awkwardly standing there. I feel out of place. She smiles weakly at me, her eyes are the same colour as mine, blue. They meet mine, before glancing away quickly. As if I’m the sun, and staring directly at it burns even for a second.

She clears her throat “Excuse the mess, I’m getting renovations done. Apparently the wiring in this house was made before i was even born”

I frown, scanning the living room again. Nothing, but then i look farther, to the kitchen that could feed a family of 20. It takes me a second to notice, the white sheets covering the kitchen island and stove. The ceiling and walls spotted with holes, with wires hanging from it.

“Please, please sit down, take a seat” She gestures to the velvet couch, wringing her hands. The silver bangles on her wrist clashing together.

“I’ll get some tea”

I raise my hands “please, it’s fine. I’m ok” my words halt her from speeding into the kitchen.

“Are you sure? What about food? You hungry?”

Her face is still pale, making her eyes stand out. I silently hope she doesn’t have a heart attack. The thought makes beads of cold sweat to form on the back of my neck.

I swipe it with my hand. “I’m good. I had some food on the way over. I hope I haven’t interrupted anything important - “ My words trail off as i glance at the kitchen.

“Oh no no no” She rushes towards the couch, beckoning me to follow.

She takes a seat on one end. I take the seat on the other.

“Forgive me, i just” She swallows “I just never thought this day would come” Tears pool in her eyes.

She looks so fragile. Part of me wants to give her a hug, just to make sure she doesn’t break apart. But it’s too soon.

“You look so grown up” She hiccups, covering her mouth.

I smile “32 as of yesterday”

The tears spill down her cheeks as she half laughs, half sobs. “My dear boy….32”

She wipes at her cheeks. “How did you find me?”

“Facebook”

I try to fight back my own tears too, the lump in my throat painful.

She laughs again, before scooting towards me. I stay still.

“Oh my baby boy, so grown up now. I can’t believe it. It feels like yesterday i had you in my arms, your little hand grabbing onto my finger”

Her eyes never sit still. She reaches towards me, her hand shaking.

“I - “

Someone behind us coughs. She snatches her hand back, her eyes darting to someone behind me.

I follow her gaze. There’s a man mid 50s, his black clothes covered in white paint. “Sorry to interrupt, I just found some more issues…just wanted to run them by you Louise” His eyes dart from me to my mother.

“Oh yes, sorry Mark” She smiles. “Family moment you see!”

She looks at me “I’ll be back in one second” She stands.

“don’t go anywhere!” She blurts, before joining Mark in the kitchen.

I can’t help but laugh lightly and nod. She follows the electrician into the kitchen. I sit there silently, hearing bits and pieces.

“The wiring here……..it’ worse than i thought. Going to have to take out this….this”

His voice drops, i can barely make out their conversation now. I look down at my hands. I wonder if this reunion is going well. It’s not like i can compare it to many.

She seemed happy to see me. Right? I’m so lost in my thoughts I barely realise she’s back, until she starts to talk again.

“Sorry about that, I totally forgot Mark was here” She sits back down, closer to me this time.

“Is everything ok?”

“Yes, yes, just some unexpected findings. Better to find out now though, then having a house fire or something from faulty wires!”

She seemed flustered, stressed.

“I’m sorry i can come back another time”

“No!” She grabs my hand, clutching it in her warm ones. “Please. I - I’m so happy to finally see you again. I promised myself to never stop looking for you. Little did i know you would find me instead of the other way around!”

The sound of a drill rings through the air. I patiently wait for it to stop before responding. I squeeze her hand.

Her eyes tears up again. “Oh you must have so so many questions. You must hate me. And I totally understand”

“No mom, i don’t hate you” i whisper.

She sobs at my words. “I had you so so young. It’s not that I didn’t want to keep you. I just couldn’t! My parents….they plucked you from my arms and sent you to that orphanage so quickly” Her blue eyes fill my vision as she realises my hands and cradles my face. “You were my baby, my sweet sweet boy. I knew i couldn’t give you the life you deserved”

The words leave me without a second thought “From the looks of your home it seems you are pretty well off though”

She releases my face, the same time i cringe back regretting my response.

“I’m sorry I didn’t mean -“

“No, no it’s fine. You have every right to be angry”

I rake a hand over my hair. I dyed it dark a few weeks ago.

“I was only 17, petrified, with no support from my parents. Jacob, i - “

“It’s fine” I interrupt.

“No, no, it’s not. I hope you know that i did try and find you”

I nod, silent.

“God, please, please tell me you had a nice childhood”. A strand of hair falls out of her bun. I look at it as i say “ I had an alright childhood. I got adopted by this nice couple”

“That’s great!” She rushes.

“But then they died” I finish, the same time she says that.

She gasps “oh Jacob”

From the kitchen, the sound of a hammer banging into a wall and plaster falling onto tiles starts.

I raise my voice slightly to be heard over the noise “They died when i was 18”

Just as i say the words, the sounds of hammering stops. I basically shout the news in the silence.

I cringe, my body flashing hot then cold. I can practically taste the awkwardness on my tongue. Mark no doubt would’ve heard that.

But Louise doesn’t seem to notice, too busy absorbing the impact of my words. She’s crying again. I don’t know what to do. Eventually i reach out and grasp her hand. It seems to calm her a bit. I take a deep breath, now is the time i should tell her. Better to do this sooner rather than later.

I open my mouth to begin but then Mark enters the room, swirling a pencil around his fingers.

“Excuse me, i don’t mean to interrupt again. Just need to run another thing by you”

Louise paints on a wobbly smile and pats my head “one second dear”.

I raise my eyebrows at the endearing term, the word surprisingly warming my chest. Mark narrows his eyes at me and i avert my gaze.

There’s another hushed conversation in the kitchen, but this time i can hear more of the conversation as Louise’s voice rises.

“Are you sure? That can’t be possible. I can’t afford that Mark!”

The stress in her voice makes my heart rate increase and i stand. Her back is to me. Mark’s face is impassive as he replies, his hands raising in front of him “I can stop. But this is a safety risk”

Louise dips her head and i take the brief pause to insert myself into the conversation.

“Everything alright Louise?”

“Yes sorry, everything -“

“Faulty wiring” Mark cuts in. Sweeping his gaze over the kitchen. I walk over to them.

“There’s a leak also, presumably from the roof. There’s a lot of water damage behind the fridge. That, plus outdated wiring…..this house is a potential tinder box”

Louise is visibly distraught, wringing her hands. I look down at her, and place a hand on her shoulder.

“You take check?” I say to Mark, as i look down at Louise. Louise snaps her head up, looking at me appalled.

“No, no i cant-“

“Please Mom, let me”

Mark, ever the third wheel says “check is fine”

I was meant to do it then. That day. I was meant to rip the bandaid off. It’s better to do it quick. Rather than slowly. It’s more painful when you do it that way. But i didn’t. And now i have to go back again. I need to tell her.

“These look expensive”

I point to the various art pieces that adorn the living room of Louise’ house.

She smiles, taking out more photos from a shoe box and lying them out on the dark dining table. She’s got on dark green pants, the flair out at the ends and a cream cardigan with sleeves that billow out.

“My husband was a keen artist collector. An expensive hobby i must say” Her silver bangles clicks together as her hands move. “He died last year, a heart attack”.

“I’m sorry”

“Not your fault” She replies.

I walk over to her, peering over her shoulder. It’s photos of her family. She points to one. “That’s you”

It takes me a moment to respond. There, staring up at me with such innocence is a picture of a baby. A smile adorning his face. Hands curled around a blanket. Whoever took the photo must have leaned over. You can tell - from the child’s joyful expression that he’s laughing at someone he loves.

I pull out a chair and sit beside her. She picks up the photo and hands it to me. I take it from her reluctantly. I want to say no. No to all of this. It’s too much and too fast.

But her eyes are filled with such pride and hope i can’t bear the thought of tearing that away. But I have to. It’s been two weeks of this. Of chatting about family and missed memories. I have to rip the bandaid off.

“I’m dying Mom”

In the kitchen Mark laughs “for fuck sake”

I whip around, Louise gasps.

Mark’s face turns into shock “sorry, fuck, i just….i couldn’t help but overhear. That’s terrible”

He visibly winces, raking a hand through his hair before spinning on his heel to face the kitchen. Placing his hands on hips.

Out of everything, i didn’t expect that to be the first thing said after telling someone I’m dying.

It takes a moment for Louise to stop gawping at Mark. Eventually she turns to me, her open mouth shutting, at the same time her chin starts to wobble.

“What?!”

“I’m not doing it”

“Yes you are!”

The conversation has escalated to a fighting match, making my hairline sweat. Louise sent Mark out, shouting he’s done for today. Leaving me alone to fend myself.

“I cannot lose you again. No, no, no” She yells, shaking her head, tears flying.

I close the space between us, placing both hands on her shoulders.

“I have already come to terms with it, mom. I can’t afford the treatment. Not in this economy”

“Why on earth did you lend me money then?!” She shrieks.

“May as well spend what little i have left! There’s no use for it where I’m going!!”

She covers her face with her hands. Her shoulders shaking.

“I just needed to see you….to say goodbye”

She slaps me.

I swear, covering my cheek with my hand. I glance at her in shock. Her expression matching mine.

“Oh my god! I’m so sorry!” She says.

“It’s fine”

“No, oh Jesus Christ. I didn’t mean to. I don’t know what came over me”

My cheek burns, that was a solid slap. I turn away, heading to the door.

“I’m going to head. I think we both need some space right now”

She sobs “no don’t leave! Please son”

I don’t even slow down, I wrench the front door open, stepping outside. The cool air feels nice against my face. It’s midday, baby blue skies with no cloud in sight.

For some reason that makes me angry.

“Please, please. Forgive me. Let’s talk about this” She wails, following me.

I spin around “there’s nothing to talk about ok!”

She wraps her cardigan tighter around herself. “There is! I just hit you!”

“Oh shit”

The words come from off to the side. We both look. It’s Mark again, ever present in this family feud. He’s smoking, leaning against his car in the driveway.

“Why have you not left?!” Louise’s voice is shrill now. “WHY ON EARTH ARE YOU STILL HERE?!’

Mark’s eyes widen and he hurriedly drops his cigarette , running around his car to hop behind the wheel.

I take the distraction, marching across the front lawn to where my car is parked on the side of the street.

“Wait!”

But it’s too late, i’m already sliding into the driving seat, keys in ignition and following Mark’s bright escape away from this place.

“You are going on Chemo or whatever the fuck the doctors say you need to do”

“Mom”

“No”

The phone is practically heating up from this agonising phone conversation. I press my forehead against the wall.

“I’m selling everything. All the paintings. This damn house that practically will set fire to itself. Everything”

I close my eyes.

“Mom”

“No arguing. You are too young to die!”

I take a deep breath. Exhale. I think about my future. What i want it to look like.

I can’t believe this is happening.

“Ok”

I convinced Louise that all the treatments, doctors appointments, everything, has to be done alone. My exact words being “I don’t want you to suffer with me”.

With multiple threats that I’ll change my mind about the whole thing if she doesn’t agree, she has finally relented. In the meantime, she has kept me updated on all the selling. At one stage even asking for my bank details so she can transfer funds over. It all happens in a whirlwind.

Too fast to even completely process. It’s been a little over a month since this whole thing started. A snowball rolling down a hill, gathering more and more momentum. Anticipation, fear, anxiety, everything accumulating. Making my head pound. I’m seated at my dining table, about to login onto my computer when there’s a knock on the door.

It’s Mark.

“Has the funds come through?” He says, shoving his way past me and into my home.

Not even a hello, how are you. I close the door hard.

“I was just about to check when you showed up”

He’s wearing jeans, a simple black t, with a nice silver chain. His blond hair speckled with grey is raked back. His eyes are firmly pointed at my computer screen. The password half typed in the login button.

“Well” He says. “Come on son, let’s see if all our hard work has paid off”

“I can’t believe you convinced me to do this”

He smirks at me, his bright blue eyes mimicking mine. “You have my genes in you boy. You did well. Although wasn’t expecting the I’m dying part. Nice touch. Usually i just stick with the i got a few loans i need to pay off type thing”

I grind my teeth. “Don’t you feel bad? At all?”

He rocks on his heels “life is tough. Some people have to learn it the heard way”

I stay silent, going over to the computer. It only takes a few seconds.

“Atta boy!” My dad claps me on my back. But all i feel as i stare at my bank account and all those numbers is loss. Loss of that fantasy. Of that feeling of having a loving caring mother. Loss of being a beloved son.

When my father leaves after i give him half of the funds, I can’t help but whisper in my empty house “i really wish i was your son”.