Chapter 7 - Coffee With His Other Mother
She'd picked the place. A diner off Highway 9, halfway between the city and her side of town, with cracked vinyl booths and the smell of grease and fresh coffee that stuck to my clothes.
My name is Elena, and I got there twenty minutes early because I didn't trust myself to be on time.
I took the booth in the back, facing the door. I wore jeans and a gray sweater, hair in a low knot, no earrings. I didn't want to look like the woman from the rooftop. I wanted to look like someone she could say no to.
She came in at exactly eleven, holding his hand until the hostess pointed toward me. Then she bent down and said something low to him, and he went to the counter stools with a coloring sheet while she walked over alone.
She was younger than I'd expected, early thirties, tired eyes, a canvas tote with his name stitched on the strap. She slid in across from me and didn't take off her jacket.
"Thank you for coming," I said.
"I didn't come for you," she said. "I came because he asked if you were okay. So let's be clear. You don't get him alone. You don't ask him to bring the watch. And you don't tell him who that woman might be until I say so."
I nodded. "Okay."
The waitress poured coffee. I wrapped both hands around the mug so she wouldn't see them shake.
"I need to tell you what we were told," she said. She pulled a folded envelope from her tote but didn't open it. "He was left at a fire station in Camden County when he was three days old. Blanket, no note. That's in the report. The state held him forty-eight hours, then foster, then us at four months. Adoption finalized at fourteen months."
I listened. I didn't interrupt.
"The watch came later," she went on. "When he was five, a box showed up at our apartment. No return address. Inside was the watch and a print that said, his birth mother wanted him to have it. We thought — I thought — it was kinder to let him believe the picture was her. What was I supposed to do? Tell a five-year-old the woman in the photo was nobody?"
My throat tightened. "You protected him."
"I did what I could," she said. "Now you tell me why you looked at him like you'd seen a ghost."
I stared at the coffee. The steam blurred my vision for a second and I was grateful for it.
"Because I knew that watch," I said quietly. "Not like — I've seen one like it. I knew the weight of it. The way the lid sticks before it clicks. And the girl in the picture — Clara — I knew her when she was young. She was... close to me. A long time ago."
The mom didn't move. "Are you saying you're his mother?"
"No." I met her eyes. "I'm not claiming that. I'm not claiming anything. I'm saying when he opened it, I recognized something I thought was gone. And I reacted before I thought about what it would do to him. That's on me."
She studied me for a long moment. Behind her, I could hear him kicking the base of the counter stool, the clink of a spoon.
"Does it play something?" I asked. "He asked me — he said to show her voice again."
She hesitated. "There's a little pin on the side. If you press it, it plays about ten seconds. A woman singing. Real faint. We told him it was probably her."
My hand jerked on the mug. Coffee sloshed over the rim and I grabbed napkins.
"Please," I said. "I'm not asking to keep it. I'm not asking to test it or take it anywhere. I'm asking for twenty minutes, with you right there, so I can hear it once and ask him what he was told about that day. So I don't guess wrong again."
She looked over her shoulder at him. He was watching us in the mirror behind the counter, trying to pretend he wasn't.
"You scared him," she said.
"I know."
"You scared me."
I nodded and didn't try to defend it.
She exhaled slowly and zipped her tote shut. "Saturday. Ten o'clock. Church parking lot on River Road, by the playground. You can talk to him while I’m there. The watch stays with me. If he gets upset, we leave. If I get upset, we leave."
"Yes," I said. "Thank you."
May you like
She stood, leaving her coffee untouched. "Don't be late. And Elena — if you know something about where he came from, you tell me first. Not him."
I watched her walk back to the counter and take his hand. He looked over at me and lifted his fingers in a small wave, and I lifted mine back before my hand started shaking again.
