“I’m sure it will be okay in the end, but I get how they feel. You’re like the sister I never had. Is it bad to say I hope you don’t find a sister to replace me?”
“Like I could.”
As little girls, Jules and Becky had met at the park, almost colliding in the tunnel of the jungle gym that led to the slide. Instead of arguing over who got to slide first, they had decided to go down together. With that, they became the best of friends. They both had older mothers and were only children, and before long, they spent all their time together, bonding over Barbies and tea parties for two.
In second grade, they had been assigned to different teachers. When the bell rang one day for recess a few weeks after the school year had started, Jules had run to their designated meeting spot by the swings. She waited, but Becky didn’t appear as she had every day before. Confused, Jules had scoured the playground, but there had been no sign of her best friend.
As Jules headed back to her classroom, she snuck a peek into Becky’s room. Her desk sat empty. Even the name tag taped to the front of her desk and her books were gone. When she got home that day, Jules’s mom had broken the news that Becky and her family had moved away.
“The happiest day of my life was finding you on my porch when you moved back,” Jules said, her tone serious and sincere. “I’m back,” Becky had announced with a grin the summer before their senior year in high school.
The two girls had picked up where they left off, and it was like they had never been apart.
Jules was still searching for the love of her life, but she firmly believed women could have friends who were soulmates. Becky was hers. Other women were sometimes intimidated by her looks. Becky knew that underneath the swagger Jules presented to the world, insecurity lurked. And Jules knew that despite having a husband who adored her and a successful business, Becky would never feel complete until she was a mother.
Jules always felt they were bonded like a magnetic force was pulling them together. There was a reason their friendship had been given a second chance.
“So, are you home?” Jules asked. “I thought you had to work today.”
“Well …” There was a pause before Becky continued. “I had a little accident driving home from work last night.”
“Seriously? After I left you? Beck, I feel terrible. How could you let me go on and on about my stuff? Are you okay? Why didn’t you call me?”
“Apparently, I ran my car into a tree. I don’t have a great excuse except that I guess someone’s headlights blinded me, and I couldn’t see. They made me stay at the hospital last night. I guess you have to be careful when you have a head injury. It was just a precaution. I’m fine. Oh, and Ros showed up and knew the doctor.”
“Oh, wow. Between Ros and Bryan, I’m sure they wanted the doctor to swaddle you in bubble wrap.”
“Pretty much.” Becky let out a short laugh. “The doctor told Bryan to watch out for memory loss, mood swings, personality changes. Naturally, my husband found it funny when the doctor told him that. Said he wasn’t sure he would be able to tell whether my craziness was from the hormones or the accident.”
“Well, Bryan’s hilarious. How are the hormones going?”
“I’m starting to think this is like PMS on steroids. I have an appointment with Dr. Levine today to check my levels and get my scan. Of course, now my car is being held hostage at the body shop waiting to be fixed.”
Jules glanced at the clock. “What time? Do you need me to take you? I’m not sure how this will go with my parents, but I should be around later.”
“No, I’m good. Bryan went to work, but Mrs. Ritter said she would take me.”
“Well, okay, let me know if anything changes.” The sound of the doorbell chimed up the narrow staircase to the kitchen table where Jules sat. “My parents are here. Wish me luck.”
“Good luck. Let me know how it goes.”
Jules’s townhouse was three floors with the kitchen and living room on the second floor and two bedrooms on the top floor. She had converted the entry level into a small office and photography studio. Most times she went to the client or their event, but specific projects required she provide the space for the shoot. This setup worked perfectly for her.
When her mother was done bustling around her small kitchen to make a pot of coffee, Jules sat them down at the kitchen table, her lips set in a straight line. Her mother cast a nervous glance at her father.
“Is everything okay? Julianne, what’s wrong?” Only her mother called her by the legal name she had been given when she was adopted. Julianne Stacy Dalton. Jules suited her better. Becky had coined the nickname when they were younger, and it had stuck. Maybe her birth mother had given her a name too. A name buried in a dusty old file or typed on her original birth certificate.
“Nothing’s wrong, Mom, but I do have something to tell you both.” Jules sucked in a deep breath, and she could feel her heartbeat quicken as she forced herself to utter the words. “I’ve decided to search for my birth parents.”
Her mother’s lips parted and then closed. She put down her coffee cup and turned her head to exchange a pained look with her husband.
Jules’s gaze drifted between her mom and dad. “It has nothing to do with both of you. It’s something I’ve been thinking about for a long time. I just feel like—” She didn’t know if there was anything she could say to make them understand. “I just feel like I need to know where I came from.”
Her mother stared down at the table, her shoulders sagging as if this news had placed a weight on them. When she looked up, her eyes were wet. “We don’t know anything, Julianne. We never met your birth parents. It was a closed adoption.”
Jules had asked her parents when she was in high school if they knew why she had been given up. She had gotten this same answer all those years ago, and then her mother had quickly changed the subject.
Her mother glanced at her father as she straightened her posture. “The agency handled everything, and they aren’t even in business anymore. I heard the building flooded during one of the hurricanes, so I doubt anyone even has access to the old files.”
“Actually, Mom, I’m using DNA testing. Even if neither one of my birth parents tested, the odds are that someone they are related to will show up as a match to me, and then I can follow the trail to them.”
Jules’s dad frowned. “DNA testing? That seems sort of extreme, don’t you think?”
“It’s pretty simple. You just spit in a tube and send it in. Dad, you’re a financial advisor. Mom taught first grade. I can’t even balance my checkbook, and can you just imagine me all day in a classroom? Maybe my love of photography came from one of my birth parents. I mean, I could even have siblings.” Jules offered a half-hearted smile to try to lighten the mood. “Wouldn’t it be weird if we actually had stuff in common? Maybe they hate mushrooms on their pizza too.”