The Impact of You

Jase

Watching Avery meet her mom for the first time is physically painful. I can feel the jittery excitement, the thick awkward air hanging around us as they take each other in, the moment Avery decides they should hug and reaches out in a sloppy attempt at a one-armed embrace. God, I wish I could make this moment easier on her. Jessica, her mom, hugs her back, flinging both arms around. They sob onto each other’s shoulders. A tight feeling invades my chest as I watch them.

There’s no denying the resemblance. Avery and her mom share many of the same features: their long, wavy auburn-colored hair, the bright emerald eyes and smattering of freckles across the bridge of their noses. Watching them hug is more emotionally taxing than I would have thought. I’d approached this whole thing with Avery in mind – being there for her was my goal. I didn’t expect to be overcome at the sight of their reunion. Yet, I can’t deny that watching a mother and child lay eyes on each other for the first time in nineteen years doesn’t pull at something deep inside me. My chest gets tight, and I can’t help but think of my own parents right now. Even if we’ve gone through some messed up stuff together, I’m still glad they’re my parents. I can’t imagine the emotions of knowing you were put up for adoption. It makes me want to hold Avery, to kiss away her tears. I vow never to fuck up again with her like I did last night. She deserves more, and if she’ll let me try again, I intend to give her everything.

After several minutes of hugging, sobbing and pointing out similarities, Jessica releases her hold on Avery and I introduce myself as Avery’s friend. Feeling generous, she gives me a solid hug too. Apparently the atmosphere is contagious. Jessica leads us up the walkway toward the house and I find Avery’s hand, squeezing it in mine. She wipes at her eyes and gives me a shaky smile. I’m so glad she didn’t insist on doing this alone.

Jessica’s house is small, but nicely decorated. The living room holds two couches separated by a coffee table tackled with books. She directs me and Avery to take a seat. I let Avery choose her spot, then sit down next to her. Jessica sits across from us, and silence fills the room as the enormity of this moment sinks in.

“Sooo…” I chuckle nervously, attempting to help jumpstart the conversation that neither of them seems to know how to begin. “Jessica, what do you do?”

She swallows and tears her eyes away from Avery briefly. “Oh, right.” She smiles warmly. “I teach high school English.”

Avery’s eyes widen. “English was my favorite subject in high school.”

Jessica continues and we learn she isn’t married and doesn’t have any other children. She lives alone, aside from a cat, and loves to read – another thing she and Avery have in common. I think Avery’s relieved to find she’s so normal. I know I am. I would have felt terrible for Avery to discover her mom was a weirdo.

Jessica prepares sandwiches for lunch and they catch up while we eat. I notice they have the same mannerisms – fidgeting with their napkins, tucking hair behind their ears, even their posture is the same. It’s uncanny.

more in the here and now – what Avery’s majoring in, how she likes her classes, things like that. Avery, taking her cues from Jessica, doesn’t delve into the past either, though she’s got to be curious about Jessica’s decision to give her up

hugs us each one last time with teary eyes and tells Avery to email or call anytime. As soon as we’re outside the door, I pull Avery into my arms. Her breath releases in a sigh and she relaxes against me. “I’m proud of you,” I whisper. Her

the drive to the hotel. We plan to spend

hotel, Avery looks exhausted. “Thanks

help but reach out to touch her. I push the hair back from her face, stroking her cheek softly. “Anytime, Whistle.

“Yeah. It went much better than I

content smile on her face, but I can tell today emotionally drained her, and if she was as restless as I was

She nods. “Okay.”

goes into her room and I head into mine. I lie down on the bed trying to clear my head. Only I can’t concentrate. All I can think about is the girl on the other side of the door, and wonder if maybe she needs

“Hi,” she says, softly.

You want

onto the bed and scoots over, making room for me. We

was pretty heavy,

“Yeah.”

“How do you feel?”

takes her time responding. “It went better than I ever hoped for. She’s nice and normal.”

thinking I’m in here for any other reason than just to be here for her and