He learns the truth about his birthmother at a dentist's office when he's 15 years old.
His dad was supposed to pick him up from school that day, take him to his cleaning appointment, and then they were going to have a father-son night: a steak dinner and then go to the Cowboys game. But, it doesn't work out that way. Instead, there's a problem on the ranch, his dad can't get away, and so Christopher walks from school to the dentist's office, hoping that Bobby will make it in town in time for kickoff, but knowing he probably won't.
"Well, you know," he hears as he starts to push open the door to the inner office, "he's not really even a Ewing; he's adopted." The woman's voice is loud and disdainful, as if being adopted were something shameful. It's not; he knows that. It's what his father has told him his whole entire life. But some people are stupid. Still, he pauses with door barely cracked open, listening.
He can't hear the other person's answer, but then he hears the first woman's next comment clear as a bell.
"Well, you remember J.R.'s ex-wife, don't you? The drunk? Used to be Miss Texas? Well, what I heard is that boy is her trashy little sister's bastard. The father was some drug dealer from California. His sister showed up years later and tried to get custody away from Bobby. It was all over the news."
The door in front of him closes with a slight click as his hand falls away from the handle. What? No, that's not true! What the hell is she talking about?
He considers turning around and getting out of there, but no. He is a Ewing, and no stupid, gossipy, lying witch is going to drive him off. Enough of this. He pushes the door open, all the way this time, and with a little more force than is strictly necessary. The two women at the reception desk jump as it hits the wall behind it.
His face flames red as he approaches them. "I'm Christopher Ewing," he says, as if all present were not already aware that of that. "I have an appointment at four with Dr. Tyler."
The witch, overweight and ugly, at least has the sense to look embarrassed as she directs him to a chair in the waiting area. From the corner of his eye he can see the other receptionist laughing and shaking her head.
He picks up a Sports Illustrated as he sits down, opening the magazine up in his lap but not seeing a single word or image on the page.
His birthmother is Sue Ellen's sister? Could that even be possible? Does Sue Ellen even have a sister? He tries to break it down in his head, sort his boomeranging thoughts into some kind of logical pattern. What does he know to be true?
The custody battle, she got that part right, though he only vaguely remembers it. There was a blond lady that was around a lot for a while, and then he had to talk to a judge and tell him he wanted to stay with his dad. And he does remember Sue Ellen being there, at what must have been the courthouse. Is that why? Because she's his aunt? His real aunt? Or was she just helping his dad? They had all still been a family back then.
As for the rest, he just doesn't know. He tries to remember everything he's ever been told about his birthparents, but there's really not much to go on. They both died when he was a little baby and then his parents adopted him. That's pretty much it. He's never really been interested in knowing anything else. He's asked many questions about Pam, the mother that abandoned him when he was six, but virtually none about the one who gave birth to him, not even her name. It's kind of strange now that he thinks about it.
But if what the receptionist said is true, how did he end up with his parents when his birthmother died? If Sue Ellen is his aunt, shouldn't she have taken him in? Wouldn't that have made sense? Did she not want him either?
Good job, Chris. Driving away mothers since 1981.
Tears prick at the back of his eyes, but he grits his teeth and refuses to let them fall. He won't give the witch receptionist the satisfaction.
When he was little, after his own mom left, he used to wish Sue Ellen was his mother. He remembers pretending that she was when she would come to school to pick up him and John Ross. John Ross would always shout out, "Hi Mom," when she drove up, and so he would too, but only inside his head, until one day, he accidentally said it out loud. Sue Ellen didn't say anything, like maybe she didn't hear him, but later, John Ross punched him in the stomach and told him not to say it ever again. He cousin was never very good at sharing.
And then, when he was seven, she left too, first Southfork, and eventually the country. He hasn't seen her since.
After that he kind of gave up on the whole mother thing.
Blinking, he pinches his thigh hard under the magazine until he can think again.
The point is, doesn't that mean it can't be true? Surely if he was her dead sister's kid, she'd do more to keep in touch with him than just saying, "Hi sweetheart," and passing the phone to John Ross, or sending him presents at Christmas and his birthday.
Wouldn't she love him or something?
Wouldn't she?