Disclaimer: I own nothing from The Walking Dead. All characters belong to the creators of the television series and graphic novels.
Family Tree
Chapter 1
The end of September around Cherokee, Georgia certainly felt more like a hot summer than the beginnings of fall. Carol Mason cranked up the air conditioner and checked the time on her phone as she sat in the pickup line at Cherokee Rose Elementary School. It was a small school in a small town two hours outside of Atlanta, and she counted her lucky stars every day that her job had transferred her out there and out of the hustle and bustle of the city. It was a quiet place; perfect to raise a family.
Six years ago, Carol had been a NICU nurse at Grady Memorial Hospital in Atlanta. While the money had been great, the hours hadn't been, and as a single mom, she'd needed more time at home. So when the hospital had offered her a transfer to a small town in need of NICU nurses with solid ten-hour days, four days a week, she couldn't pass it up. That gave her three days at home each week, even if she was on call every other weekend.
When the front doors opened, put her phone down and watched as the teachers walked out the kindergartners first. Then the first graders. The line slowly began to move, and by the time the third graders were rushing out the door like it was the last day of school, Carol was at the front of the line. She saw Sophia come rushing out, her dirty-blonde hair a mess of tangles, a far cry from the pretty braid she'd worn that morning. She reached the car in almost record time, panting as she tugged open the back door and climbed inside. Carol glanced toward the front door of the school before looking at her daughter in the rear-view mirror.
"Sophia Mason, what am I gonna do with you? Please tell me you took your hair down after pictures?"
"Yes, Mom," ten-year-old Sophia promised, sighing dramatically as she buckled her seatbelt.
"You have homework?"
"Nope! Mrs. Grimes said no homework until after Christmas!" Carol quirked an eyebrow. Some things sounded too good to be true, and this was definitely one of them.
"No homework until after Christmas, huh?"
"She says we'll do our school work at school. She wants us to spend our homework time at home working on a project. Lydia has to do it, too. The whole fourth grade does!" Just as Carol was about to ask her daughter to elaborate on the specifics of the project, the other car door opened, and Lydia hopped in, her dark-brown hair long and flowing down her back aside from two braids met together with a clip in the back. She looked tired and a little anxious, and Carol offered her a warm smile.
"So I hear something about a project for the whole fourth grade."
"Yeah. Can we go home?" she asked, pulling her seatbelt on and looking out the window, avoiding Carol's gaze. Carol looked to Sophia who suddenly looked a little sheepish.
"What's going on? What's the project?"
"We have to make a family tree," Sophia said quietly, glancing somberly at Lydia. "We have to trace it back at least five generations." Carol felt like something hit her in the stomach, and she glanced over to Lydia who looked on the verge of tears.
"Lydia? Sweetheart, it's ok."
"Can we just go home?" the girl asked, folding her arms protectively across her chest.
"Ok," Carol relented. "It's movie night. I'll order a pizza when we get home, and we'll pick out a movie." The girls were quiet, and Carol quickly put the car in drive and headed toward the street exit.
...
It wasn't a long drive home. The house on Rose Street was an older home with a spacious back yard and a full-size attic. What once had been a playroom for the girls now just stored all of their old toys and boxes of their possessions.
Carol pulled out her phone and placed the pizza order as soon as they pulled into the garage. Lydia was the first out of the car, rushing into the unlocked door in the garage that lead into the laundry room of the house.
"Mom?" Sophia asked quietly, climbing out of the car and coming around to stand by her mother as Carol hit the button to close the garage door. "I feel bad."
"Why, honey?"
"Well, how's Lydia gonna trace her family tree if she's adopted?"
"Honey, let's talk about that later, ok?" Carol suggested. Sophia sighed but nodded her head, and Carol patted her shoulder. "Go on inside and put your shoes and backpack up. Be downstairs in ten minutes and help me find a movie, ok?"
"Ok," Sophia agreed, heading into the house. Carol took a deep breath and stood in the quiet of the garage, wondering how she'd been so ill-prepared for this moment.
She'd never kept the fact that Lydia was adopted hidden from her. She'd made a conscious decision the moment she decided to adopt the girl that she'd always be honest with her about where she was from. The only problem was that she knew very little about the girl's family. She knew a couple of names, and there were a few things she'd pieced together from newspaper clippings, but that was about the extent of her knowledge.
Ever since Lydia had come to the car looking so upset, Carol had felt that ball of uncertainty and anxiety begin to tighten in her gut. Lydia was ten. She was still a child, and while Carol had raised her and loved her just as she had Sophia, she knew the girl still had questions about where she came from.
When Carol stepped into the house, she found Lydia waiting for her in the kitchen. She was tracing her fingertips along the faux marble counter. When she heard Carol's shoes squeak against the linoleum, she looked up at her.
"Mom?"
"Yeah?" Carol asked, placing her purse and keys on the counter and stepping over to the fridge to grab a bottle of water. She grabbed and extra for her daughter and handed it to her.
"Maybe I can just trace your family tree," she said quietly.
"You can if you want," Carol offered.
"Do you think that's ok?"
"I think that's fine," Carol said with a nod. "You're my daughter. Just because I adopted you doesn't make me any less your mom." She tapped her fingertips on the countertop. "But do you want to do that?" Lydia looked up at her, wide-eyed. "Honey, if you want me to help you find out about your birth family, I can tell you what I know, and the rest we can research."
"Really?" Lydia asked, her voice cracking. "You'd do that?"
"Of course!" Carol offered with a little smile. "I always thought you'd want to. I know sometimes adopted kids grow up and want to know more about who their birth parents are. I'm ok with that. I want you to know that. You don't have to feel bad about wanting to know them or even meet them some day. Ok?" Lydia's shoulders fell, and she let out a deep breath she must have been holding onto for some time. A look of relief washed over her face, and she rushed over to throw her arms around Carol's waist. "I'll support you whatever you want to do. One hundred percent. Ok?"
"Thanks, Mom," Lydia grinned. "Can we get started on it tomorrow?"
"Sure," Carol chuckled. "Now go on up and get ready for supper." Lydia hurried off, and Carol took a shaking breath. Something in her chest felt heavy. She knew this journey could reveal some upsetting things, and she was going to protect Lydia from as much as she could.
She had half a mind to call the school and give them a piece of her mind, but she knew she was just being silly. There was nothing wrong with having children trace their family history. In fact, it was a great idea. She knew she was just feeling a little selfish, wanting to keep her little girl to herself a little longer.
Okay, now you're just overreacting.
Tracing family roots didn't mean they had to contact anybody. It just meant that Lydia was going to have a better picture of where she came from, who her parents were, where her ancestors came from. She had just as much of a right to know as any other child in that school. Still, it didn't help the bundle of nerves and anxiety that sat in the pit of Carol's gut like a clump of lead.