She reached the sidewalk with her cluster of shopping bags, feeling like herself again. She’d brought a pair of her mother’s pearl earrings with her, and a Chanel handbag she used to love and had found on a shelf in her closet, gathering dust. It was a familiar look when she tried it on at the hotel, and she smiled at the blouse, thinking of the evening she’d spent with Norm, and their kisses in front of the fireplace, drinking the Sauterne. She no longer owned anything to make herself attractive to a man, or to impress a daughter who lived in L.A. and had a glamorous movie star adoptive mother. But the clothes she had bought looked well on her, and showed off her tall, slim figure. The coat was very stylish she realized when she tried it on again.
Just being in the city again was a strange déjà vu for her. It made her think of Carson and how long it had been since they’d spoken and she’d heard his voice. She thought about all they’d been through, and wondered how he was. He was still in the publishing world, and married again, with two teenage stepdaughters. So his life was not so different, but hers bore no resemblance to her earlier life. She spent the winter in rubber boots or snow boots, and sneakers in the summer. Her clothes were functional and not pretty, and she hadn’t cared in four years. But now she did.
It was hard to turn the clock back to be someone she no longer was, and she looked older than she had four years before. Hattie said she hadn’t changed but Melissa knew she had. She’d been through too much not to.
The next day she went to the hairdresser where she used to get her hair cut. All the stylists were new so they didn’t recognize her. She had her long hair trimmed a few inches, so it looked neat when she pulled it back. And she indulged herself with a facial and a manicure, and emerged feeling very sophisticated and almost like a New Yorker again, but not quite. But at least she wouldn’t embarrass Michaela now when they met.
She didn’t know it, but Michaela had gone through the same thing when she packed her bags for New York. All her clothes were informal and plain, appropriate for her job as a social worker or out with the kids. She and David rarely got dressed up. They led a casual California life. She wore sandals most of the time and flip-flops on the weekends. Marla complained about it and said she was a beautiful girl and should dress like one. She bought her designer clothes, but Michaela had no place to wear them and they sat in her closet until she gave them away or sold them. It frustrated Marla, who was always impeccably and fashionably dressed. Michaela was panicked now about what to wear to look presentable to the birth mother she had never met.
* * *
—
Melissa was a nervous wreck when she got into the cab to go uptown the next day. She was wearing the pale blue sweater, black slacks and black coat, and Chanel flats, and looked well put together. Traffic was heavy, and she was afraid to be late, but she arrived at the Mark right on time.
The lobby looked like a movie set with a startling black and white floor, a bar, and a restaurant, and Melissa walked cautiously into the restaurant. Michaela had emailed her a photograph so she’d recognize her. Melissa didn’t have a recent one but described herself. Melissa glanced around the restaurant and saw her daughter immediately. She was seated at a table, fidgeting with a straw. She looked up and they both knew. Michaela stood up and came toward her as Melissa headed for her in a straight line, and folded her into her arms. They hugged for a long time, and a few people smiled when they saw them. The love between them radiated around them. The years and the circumstances melted away, and they were both crying and smiling when they went back to Michaela’s table.
“I never thought this would happen,” Michaela said in a choked voice, as they sat down and faced each other, and Melissa took her hand across the table and held it. She hadn’t meant to be so affectionate so quickly, but it came naturally to both of them, and it would have been hard not to give in to it. Then Michaela thought of something.
“What do I call you?”
“Whatever you like,” Melissa said with a shy smile.
“Marla prefers for me to call her by her first name, so I always have, or at least for a long time. Would Mom be too weird?” She looked hesitant, and Melissa smiled broadly.
“I’d love it, although I haven’t earned it and probably don’t deserve it,” she said. “But I’d be honored.”
“What choice did you have at sixteen?” Michaela said gently, and went right to the heart of the matter.
“That’s true, but I always wanted to find you later, when I was older. The nuns burning the records changed all that. I almost died when they told me, when I called them to find you, or at least get some information about where you were.”
“Yeah, me too. They told me the same thing when I called them, that the records had been destroyed in a fire and were gone forever. I called on my eighteenth birthday. I thought then they’d give me the information, but it was gone. That was fifteen years ago, and now here we are. You’re beautiful,” she said to Melissa, looking shy again. And Hattie was right. Melissa could see too that Michaela looked like their mother, in a softer version, but didn’t act like her. She was warm and affectionate and forgiving. There was no hint of reproach in anything she said to Melissa, and the time flew as they talked. She asked about Robbie, and told Melissa how sorry she was about it. She’d read Melissa’s books and told her she loved them. She talked about David and what a good person he was and how much she loved him, and showed her pictures of Andy and Alexandra and told her about them. “Andy loves anything to do with Superman or outer space. Alex loves clothes, as long as they’re pink or purple and have sparkles on them.” Melissa made a mental note for future presents. She suddenly had grandchildren, and a daughter, someone to talk to and call and worry about. She was sorry they didn’t live closer, and Michaela said she wanted her to come for Thanksgiving and meet her other mother, Marla.
“I’d love to, and that scares me to death. Have you told her about me yet?”
“I will now. I wanted to meet you first, and make sure that everything was okay.” Melissa was everything Michaela had hoped she would be. She wasn’t as outgoing as her sister, whom Michaela already loved, but there was something very touching about her shyness. It made her seem vulnerable and somewhat fragile, in spite of all the hard things she’d been through, which suggested strength. She seemed like a very discreet, kind, intelligent person to Michaela. She wasn’t effusive or showy, but there was something very quietly profound and real about her. She was the kind of person one could count on. Melissa told Michaela about the house in the Berkshires and how much she wanted her to see it.
They were still talking intently when David arrived with the children. They had gone to the park. There was a playground in Central Park near the hotel. They were wearing matching red parkas and blue jeans and sneakers. Alexandra’s were pink with sparkles and lit up. Andrew’s had Superman on them, and Melissa smiled when she saw them.