He shrugged. “Don’t know. It’s the heading, like a name.”
“Huh. Well, continue.”
Jasper cleared his throat and focused on the paper. I went back to closing my eyes and pretending I didn’t care what my mother had wanted to say to me for the very first time. That my stomach wasn’t twisting and mixing the rum and Coke like a vortex in my gut. Like my heart wasn’t about to pound out of my chest. Like I wasn’t scared of what she wanted to say to me.
My mother.
“Kasaraibo,
I’m sorry.
If you’re reading this letter it must be an incredible shock to hear from me.”
I huffed.
“She got that right,” Jasper snarked in a high-pitched whine.
“No comments from the peanut gallery. Just read it straight through,” I requested.
He shook his hands out to the sides, fluffed his always-perfect hair and took a deep breath.
“Okay. I’m ready,” he said as though he was about to read an audiobook straight into a recorder at an audition.
“Good, now, read it. Start from the beginning again. Please and thank you.” I tacked on a wink.
“Kasaraibo,
I’m sorry.
If you’re reading this letter it must be an incredible shock to hear from me. I did my best to keep you a secret throughout the years. A treasure that was not mine to behold for long.
You, Isabeau, were a gift. From the Creator.
A gift that was never meant to be mine.
I am sorry if that truth hurts you. It has ravaged my soul since the day I left you warm, beautiful and snuggled in your crib.
You were meant for Ian and Casey. One man I loved very deeply and one I came to love through Ian and through your conception and birth. Your fathers wanted you more than anything in the world and it was my honor to give them this gift.
I’m sure your fathers have now explained our history and how Evie, Suda Kaye and you came to be.
Do you believe in dreams, fate and destiny, my kasaraibo? It will help you understand that you were wanted and were brought into this world based on love and hope.
Love from your fathers. Love from me. Love from the Creator.
You are here because you were meant to be.
Above anything else that you may think of me, and how I entered and left your life without a trace, know that you were wanted, loved, even wished for.
You just weren’t to be mine. It’s an unfortunate truth and something even years later while writing this letter I have trouble accepting.
My fate. My destiny was to give you life. To give life to Evie and Suda Kaye.
I was warned at a very young age that I was not long for this earth. My mother died a short time after I had Evie. The same sickness that took my mother young would take me, too. It was to be part of my path. It was written in the stars.
When I had the dream of birthing a fire-haired angel after speaking with Ian, I knew what I was supposed to do. Though doing so, I would be leaving yet another child of mine to grieve. The sickness had started to weaken me even then. I wouldn’t dare have another child yearning for a mother. And you had two devoted, loving parents. That was when I made the decision that after I left, you wouldn’t know of me. In doing so, I know I took away your knowledge of your sisters, but I truly believed it was the right thing to do for us all.
Now I’m not so sure. And yet, I write this letter in the hopes that you’ll never have to read it. Never have to know how much I loved and missed you every day, every waking moment. How I’d look down at my empty arms and wish they were filled with my beautiful Isabeau.
As the years slipped by I got weaker, and my girls suffered, but I knew I’d made the right decision. I checked in on you as much as I dared, staying in a home my husband, Adam, bought for us in Chicago. Watching you play in the schoolyard and at the park with your fathers was a dream come true. You were so ethereal and effervescent. The perfect happy child.
Happy. My Isabeau was happy. And that’s all I needed to fill up the emptiness your absence left on my soul.
I have more to explain but not a lot of time. For now just know, my dearest Isabeau, you, Evie and Suda Kaye are my legacy. You three are the beauty I leave behind.
The world is a far better place with the three of you in it.
With all my love and loss,
Catori”
* * *
Tears slid down my cheeks so fast I wasn’t able to wipe them before they fell to my shirt. Big, dark blobs soaked the fabric in waves of sadness.
“Oh, Izzy.” Jasper sniffed, set the letter down and crawled over to me. He reached around my shoulders and tugged me against his thin frame. I snuggled against his chest and bawled my eyes out. Sobbed for a woman I didn’t know but wished I had the chance to. I cried for the time I’d never have with her. Tears fell rapidly for a woman who made a difficult decision that maybe wasn’t right, but it was honest.
Catori Ross gave me life knowing she was going to die. Paid the ultimate price of bearing a child and giving it away.
“She loved you, Izzy. She loved you so much.” Jasper’s words shook me to my core.
I nodded. “It seems that way. At least from the letter.”
“Woman, that letter was her setting her pain free. Shredding herself in the hopes of finding a way to make you not hate her.”
“I don’t hate her. How could I?” My voice cracked.
He pressed his head to the top of mine. “Then how are you feeling?”
“Hopeless. Sad. Brokenhearted. Even if I’d only had her for a little bit of time, I would have cherished it, had something to show for it. She stole that decision from me, from all of us. And granted, she did it so she wouldn’t hurt me, or Evie and Suda Kaye, but in the end, not having her in my life was worse. I never knew who my mother was. Never heard her voice. Never saw her dance or listened to the stories of her travels, like my sisters did. And worse, I never had my sisters in my life. She kept them from me. Her decision to disappear from my life to protect me, us...is what has wounded me the most.”
Jasper kissed the crown of my head.
“I would have liked to know her,” I said against his chest.
He inhaled and let out a long breath. “By the end of this journey, I think you will know her. It’s what we’re here to do. Learn about your mom and make a connection to your sisters. Maybe carve out a new life of our own. Ultimately, even after reading those words to you, I know she’s probably watching and kicking herself in the ass for not choosing another way. Still, it was her choice to make—hers, Izzy. Kind of like a closed adoption. She gave you to your biological father and his husband, two people who could provide you with a safe, wonderful home and support you your entire life. She knew she wasn’t going to be able to do that, and she already had to deal with that brutal fact with Evie and Suda Kaye. I understand why she couldn’t bear to do it to another younger child. Especially if she didn’t have to.”