Chapter 17 - Hattie Reads Mara’s Letter
Mara had written Hattie a letter before she died.
Not because she expected death.
She wrote letters periodically after Hattie’s adoption.
Birthday notes.
Thoughts.
Things to give later.
I found one labeled:
For when we explain June.
I had not opened it until now.
That was shameful in its own way.
Dr. Cole helped decide whether Hattie should hear it.
Mara wrote:
Sweet girl,
There are many ways a family begins. You began in June’s body and then came into our arms. Neither fact cancels the other.
I stopped reading.
Hattie waited.
“More.”
I continued.
June loved you enough to make a difficult choice. Dad and I loved you before we knew the sound of your laugh. One day you may feel curious, angry, grateful, sad, or nothing special at all. Every feeling is allowed.
Then:
You do not owe any adult a particular feeling about your adoption.
Hattie’s eyes filled.
Mine too.
The last line:
No one gets to use where you came from to tell you where you belong.
Mara had written that four years before Evelina told Hattie she was not good enough to sit beside me.
I folded the page carefully.
Hattie whispered:
“Mommy knew.”
“Yes.”
“Did she know Evelina?”
“No.”
“She smart.”
“Yes.”
Then:
“Can I keep?”
The original was fragile.
We made a copy.
Hattie placed it in the drawer beside her bed.
For months she did not mention it.
Then one night she asked:
“Would Mommy be mad at Evelina?”
I answered:
“Yes.”
“Would she slap her?”
I almost laughed.
“Mara?”
“Yes.”
I remembered Mara arguing with a tow-truck driver for twenty minutes because he scratched our bumper.
“She might want to.”
“Would she?”
I took time.
“I hope she would get you safe first and let adults handle the rest.”
Hattie smiled.
“You got classes.”
“Yes.”
“Mommy smarter.”
May you like
Apparently I would never escape this.
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