Sheri WhiteFeather - Lost and Found Father

Kaley took Molly’s picture and put it with her notebook. “I’m going to find out more about her.”

Ryan uncovered more snapshots of his mom, some of which he and his father were in. Molly was a bit fuller-figured than her earlier self, but just as pretty. Victoria felt an uncomfortable tug at her heart, seeing Ryan as a wide-eyed toddler, clinging to his dad, who was a much younger, gentler version of the man Victoria remembered.

“What was your dad’s name?” Kaley asked.

“Kevin. Kevin Gregory Nash,” he amended, reciting his father’s full name.

As the research session continued, Victoria was compelled to stay where she was, standing beside the table, allowing herself to become immersed in Ryan’s roots.

Would things have been different if his mother had lived? Would Molly have encouraged Victoria and Ryan to keep Kaley? Would she have been someone Victoria could have confided in?

Questions with dreamy answers.

Victoria wanted to believe that Molly would have been supportive, comforting her in a way that her own parents and Ryan’s dad had been incapable of. She even imagined putting her head on Molly’s shoulder.

“Look what I found,” Kaley said.

Victoria snapped out of her daydream. Apparently Kaley had reached into the box and discovered a high school annual. Victoria inspected the cover and noticed that it was from Ryan’s senior year. By then she’d already moved to California. Naturally, she was curious to see his senior photo, certain that Kaley would search for it.

As predicted, the teenager paged through the yearbook, stopping when she found her prize. “Wow. Check you out, Ryan.”

“Yeah, check out how awful I look.”

No, Victoria thought. He was young and handsome, just as she remembered, with his straight dark hair and exotic features, but she understood what he meant. He seemed lost in the picture, with a smile that didn’t embrace his eyes.

He said, “That wasn’t good a time in my life.”

“Because of what happened with me,” Kaley said.

He nodded.

The girl softly asked, “What did your dad say about you not going to the hospital?”

“He got raging mad. He thought it was terrible. And for once he’d been right to yell at me. By then I was used to it, though. He was always on edge about something, always bitching me out.”

“I’ll bet he was so grumpy all the time because he missed your mom.” Kaley offered her take on the situation. “But he still should have been nicer to you. My dad has always been nice to me.”

Victoria was incredibly thankful that their daughter had been adopted into a loving home. But that didn’t change the past. It didn’t change the ache that Ryan’s senior photo caused, either.

Kaley closed the annual and said to Victoria, “You never showed me the yearbooks you were in.”

“Because I don’t have them anymore.”

“What happened to them?”

Before Victoria could respond, Ryan interjected. “She probably got rid of them on purpose.”

Victoria sighed. “You’re right, I did. I tossed out everything associated with that era. It was easier to start over, especially after I moved.”

He made the same admission. “I didn’t keep the yearbooks you were in, either. That’s the only one I still have.”

Kaley shook her head. “You guys were so dramatic, throwing things out. But you’re both kind of sweet, too, in your own weird way.”

Ryan laughed a little, maybe because he didn’t know what else to do. Then he said to Victoria, “I always thought you were sweet.”

She shrugged, trying to appear unaffected by their emotional weirdness. “What can I say? I was a nice girl.”

“And you smelled really good.”

“That’s not the same kind of sweet.”

“I know, but you always smelled like dessert or something.”

Because she used to douse herself in vanilla-scented lotion. “I wore too much fragrance.”

“Not to me.”

Instantly, she was reminded of him burying his nose in her sugary skin. Oh, the memories that evoked: curling up in Ryan’s bed when his dad wasn’t home, slipping her greedy hands into his half-undone clothes, closing her eyes while he peeled hers off. Even now, her eyes were starting to drift closed, until she realized that Ryan was looking at her.

She told herself to get a grip. But it didn’t work. She couldn’t get her memories under control. “I think I should go now.”

He made a puzzled expression. “Go?”

“To my room. To get some work done.” She needed to escape. If she didn’t, those intimate feelings would only get stronger. “You two have fun with the rest of the family tree.”

“Okay. See you later.” Kaley handled her impeding departure with ease. But she’d already shifted her attention back to the box, unaware of Victoria’s discomfort.

Ryan noticed, though. She could feel him watching her.

She walked away, praying for the strength to make it through the rest of the week without feeling more for him than she should.

* * *

Ryan and Kaley stayed in the kitchen and finished going through everything.

Afterward, she said, “I’m going to go get my photo album now.”

“Sounds good.” He was eager to continue spending time with her. But he was disappointed that Victoria had left. It had been nice to have her nearby. But she was skittish around him. One little smell-good remark and she’d made a mad dash for the doorway.

Kaley left to get her photo album, and he stood up to stretch his legs.

She returned, and they resumed their seats. He braced himself for the newborn pictures of her, which he assumed would be on the first page.

He assumed right. As he gazed at the images and studied her cap of dark hair and scrunched-up little face, he wanted to zap back in time and hold her as close as he possibly could.

“You were beautiful,” he said. He imagined that she would have felt small and soft in his arms.

“I think I look kind of goofy.”

“No. You were beautiful. Absolutely perfect.” He lifted his gaze. “You still are.”

“Thanks.” She got a little shy, ducking her head.

He realized that without Victoria in the room with them, they didn’t know quite how to behave. He and his daughter were strangers.

She turned the next page. “This is me and my mom and dad. I think I was about three months old here.”

Her parents were an attractive couple: the mom was a summer blonde and the dad was tall and dark. Ryan envied the happy looks on their faces. But then he reminded himself that the mother was gone and the father was alone and missing her.

He said, “Victoria told me that your mom’s name was Corrine and that she was adopted, too.”

Kaley nodded. “She never knew her birth parents and always felt as if something was missing from her life.”

“Did she ever try to find them?”

“Yes, but nothing ever surfaced. She was really upset later when she discovered that she couldn’t have kids. She wanted a baby of her own more than anything. But then she decided that not being able to conceive meant that she was destined to adopt.”

Ryan glanced at the picture of Corrine and Eric, imagining them in his mind: their love for each other, their determination to become parents.

Kaley said, “When they first started the adoption proceedings, they were only interested in open adoptions. Because of the way my mom felt about her childhood, they wanted the birth mother to be involved in their baby’s life. The birth father, too, if he was around. Lots of times the dads aren’t.”

That struck a guilty chord. In the end, Ryan had been one of those dads.

Kaley continued, “After a couple of years, they were still waiting for a newborn. But they were warned that it might take a while. Then finally the adoption agency called and told them that there was a baby coming up who was part Native and had to go to a Native home, which would put them at the top of the list since my dad is registered with the Cherokee Nation. But they had to agree to a closed adoption or not take the baby.”