"Did I mention that he was your age?" Judy called from the kitchen. I laughed,
"Yes, yes you did! About a thousand times!" I continued to stare out the window.
"Sorry! I just can't believe they're adopting a boy so old." she called back. I laughed again.
"Hey! Fifteen is not old!" I sat in front of a large window at the front of our house, anxiously waiting for the Markman's pretty blue sedan to pull into their driveway, knowing that it was currently carrying valuable cargo. Judy came up behind me and tapped me on the shoulder, taking me by surprise. She smiled in amusement at my giddiness."Calm down, your eagerness is going to scare him away. You look like a child waiting for Santa." I ignored her comment, not breaking my gaze. She kissed me on the cheek and sat down. "Do you remember the day I brought you home? You might not, you were very little." Judy was actually my adoptive mother, but within the first year that she adopted me, she would cry every time I called her 'Mommy'. Of course I remembered. It was raining, and after she had brought me home, the storm had picked up ten fold. I was only five, and completely terrified of thunder. Judy was sitting on the couch talking on the phone as I played nearby. I knew she was talking about me, because she said stuff like "She's so beautiful, and smart too!" and "You'll love her!" and at that very moment, the power went out. The room fell dark and silent…well it was silent for approximately two fifths of a second. Then there was me. I dropped the building block that was in my hand and ran to Judy screaming "Mommy! Mommy!" She tossed the dead phone aside and pulled me up into her lap and stroked my hair, saying "It's alright. M-mommy's here, mommy's here." Thunder crashed outside, only causing me to sob harder. I buried my face into her sweater and gripped her tighter. It wasn't until after I had been comforted enough to realize she was crying as well. I asked her, "Mommy, why do you cry?" Tears streaked down her cheeks, but she just wiped them aside and said, "No no no, sweetheart. These are happy tears." Being a child, I just went along with it. Three years pass, and I finally ask, "Mommy, do you like me?" There was a silence as she looked at me. "Of course I do, honey! Why would you ask something like that?" I was silent. I looked her in the eyes, and simply said "Mommy." I saw her lip quiver as I said it. "There!" I said and pointed to her face. "You always make weird faces when I call you mommy. Aren't you my mommy?" She just stared at me, I could see her eyes welling up. Then I began to cry. "Don't cry mommy, I mean not mommy, I mean whoever you are! Just…don't cry!" I hiccuped so ferociously that she put her hand on my shoulder to settle me. At this point, she was crying too. She wrapped her arms around and held me to her. I could smell her lavender perfume, and smelling her always made me feel safer. After a long, silent hug, she pulled away and spoke between sniffles. "Listen to me, Arlie. I am your mommy. We've been over this, and you know that we are not blood related, but I am still your mother." I looked up at her, and her face was red and tear streaked. "But don't you want me to call you 'mommy'?" I asked. She turned away from me and put her hands in her lap. She stared out my window and said "It's just a lot to take in. The realization of being a mom is just so much." She put her head in her hands and sighed. "I just feel like I can never be your real mother." A confession. I had never thought of that. I had always considered her my "real mother", and nothing less. I tried to lighten the mood, seeing that I had basically caused her to have a meltdown. I took her hand in mine and said "Well if you don't want me to call you that, I can call you something else. What about Beth? Mary? Ooh, I like Sheryl. It's like Sharon and Carol mixed together! Hmm, how do you say mother in another language?" She laughed heartily and embraced me once more. "Your name is Judy." I said, still hugging. "It is." she replied. "That's the most beautiful name I've ever heard." So 'Judy' it was.
I smiled and said "Yes, I remember it like it was yesterday." Some people thought calling my mother by her first name was a bit formal, or disrespectful. Neither of us thought so, so those people's points were invalid. Just as Judy began to walk away, I heard the sound of a car drive by. I pressed my hands on the glass and yelled, (rather loudly, being that Judy was standing right next to me) "THEY'RE HOME! THEY'RE HOME!" I opened the front door and ran to the end of the porch. "Okay, okay. Deep breaths, deep breaths. Don't go over there, not yet. Not yet." Mr. Markman stepped out of the driver's seat and opened the back door. Even from my standpoint, I could hear him say "Welcome home!" I held my breath as the boy stepped out of the car. Oh, he was handsome. He had brown hair that bounced when he walked, his face was beyond gorgeous, I couldn't tell what color eyes he had, but I bet that they would compliment the rest of him. It took a great deal of restraint not to yell hello from the porch. But as soon as he got closer, I noticed something about him. Something strange. Something familiar, like an old memory. My heart went cold. Time stood still before I could muster up the courage to say something. "I know him. I KNOW HIM. What was his name, what was his name?" I ran a bunch of names through my head. Evan? Eli? Edward? No, none of those were right. Then it hit me. Before I could stop myself, I ran out into the lawn, nearing the line that cut off our property from theirs, and called out "ELLIOT?!" The boy stopped dead in his tracks and looked at me. I could see his eyes now, they were blue. They seemed to sear right through me and look into my head. I stared back, at the face that I never thought I'd see again. The last face I saw before I left the orphanage ten years ago.