wakes up with... well, never mind about that part."
Ophelia chuckles. "I'm glad the two of you are happy together."
We are. Really happy.
But still, I feel like I have to make this connection happen.
I check to make sure the coast is clear, and I lean a little closer. "What made you decide to adopt?"
She frowns. "My parents kicked me out after they caught me screwing one of my friends from church. It was a different time then, though that still happens."
"I'm sorry." I can't believe I've never heard this. "That must have hurt."
"At first. But you can't live your life waiting for people to accept you. You know that, after everything with your mother."
I nod. She's right. Some people are never going to change their minds. It's possible Tom will never change his mind about his mother, that he'll always see her as a druggie who abandoned him.
"Once I was mature enough, and financially stable enough, I knew I wanted to help kids who were in dire straits. I had a few other foster kids before Tom. They eventually reunited with their parents. It was great for them, but it broke my heart. I adopted Tom the second I could."
"Did he really call you ugly when you met?"
She laughs. "Yes, he did."
"What a little shit."
"That's Tom."
I play with the fabric of my jeans. "His mom, she was a drug addict?"
Ophelia nods.
"Why didn't she try to get custody back after she cleaned up?"
"It was part of a plea agreement. She had to choose between jail and giving up custody. She had little chance of getting custody behind bars. It made more sense to give it up. I think she knew that it was best for Tom that she not be his caretaker." Ophelia's expression gets quizzical. "Is there something you need to know about her?"
"Maybe."
"Sweetheart, I love you as much as I love my sons. You are my daughter now. But whatever it is, you should talk to your husband about this."
"I know."
"What do you want with his birth mother?"
"Maybe nothing. Maybe... maybe it would be good for him to meet her."
She presses her lips together. "And where do you fit into this?"
"He'll never do it on his own."
She nods. Her eyes fix on me, an expression that demands I explain. "What happened, sweetheart?"
"Liberty contacted me."
Ophelia's brows turn down. Her forehead screws with frustration. "And Tom doesn't know about this?"
"It was from my photography website. She didn't know he was my husband. She only hoped to pass along her contact information to a model, so he could contact her if that was what he wanted to do."
Ophelia leans back into her chair. "Quite the awkward way to find your son."
I nod.
Her voice is low, like she's sharing a secret. "Willow, she didn't give him up because she was seventeen and she knew he'd be better off. He was eleven when the state took him, and he was beaten within an inch of his life. It wasn't her. It was her boyfriend who did it, but I don't think that matters much to Tom. All he knows is that his mother didn't protect him."
"I know."
"He's not curious about what happened. He knows that his birth mother didn't think enough of him to get clean or to leave her abusive boyfriend."
"It's not that easy to leave someone abusive."
"She had a son."
"It fucks with your head. You think he loves you, that he doesn't mean it. You think that there's no one else who can help you, who even cares. Or you don't realize how bad it's gotten." My palms slap the table. I'm nearly shouting, but I have to get this out. "Sometimes, you've already lost all your friends and your family and he's the only person you have."
Ophelia frowns. "Sweetheart, I'm sorry. I didn't—"
"It's okay. I know you didn't mean offense. Nobody ever does." Nobody ever thinks about what it's like when you're in the middle of it. They act like it's easy to leave, like women stay with abusive men because they're stupid or weak.
I take a deep breath. I don't like reliving that part of my life, but running from it doesn't do me any good.
I blink back a tear. Stupid fucking memories.
"Think about what you do. Tom might not forgive you for this. And I'd hate to see anything come between the two of you."
Right on cue, Tom steps into the restaurant. He zeroes in on me like I'm the bat signal and he's Batman.
He practically runs over. "What's wrong,