Dear Juliet, page 2
We sit there for what seems like hours, but only minutes have passed. Kevin asks the question that’s been on my mind for the better part of the last twelve hours.
“Where is her birth mother?”
Jessica takes a deep breath and seems hesitant to tell us.
“Lily doesn’t want to meet you. Or see Juliet,” she responds with sadness in her voice.
“Oh?” I reply, surprised.
“She’s very young. Only sixteen. She just wants to sign the papers and go home. Well, go home as soon as the hospital will discharge her. She’s already been moved to another floor.” She pauses momentarily, as if she had hoped for another outcome. “We will typically move birth mothers so they don’t have to hear other babies crying. It helps them begin to heal. We have to respect her wishes.”
This is surprising to me, and Kevin and I exchange worried glances. What could this mean? My chest tightens and I realize that I’m holding Juliet closer, more protective.
“Sixteen? Can she even give this baby up? Can her family intervene?” I’m suddenly terrified that the beautiful little girl in my arms is about to be taken away from us.
“No. She can legally sign the adoption paperwork. It’s her choice. Her family cannot intervene, nor do they need to be present during her revocation of rights. They are actually completely unaware of the birth of Juliet since Lily has been living with a family member for some time,” Jessica states matter-of-factly. I have to trust that our social worker is speaking the truth, but her words don’t comfort me at all. “I’m sorry, but I’m unable to discuss anything more with you about Lily.”
“But she’s only sixteen,” I push, suddenly feeling very sad for the child who just gave birth to this beautiful little girl. “And her family doesn’t know?”
How can this be?
“She’s sixteen and scared. She absolutely does not want her family to know. But believe me, she is very clear-minded when it comes to the decision to give up this child,” Jessica assures us.
Kevin’s free hand swipes through the back of my hair and rests on my shoulder. While this all seems like a whirlwind, his gesture comforts me immensely.
“Okay, what’s next?” Kevin and I ask at the same time.
Jessica smiles warmly and says, “It’s time to become her family.”
~
The next few days are a blur. We spend every single moment we can with our daughter, experiencing all of the wonders and joys of having a newborn. The hospital gives us a room in the maternity ward where we can spend our first precious moments together as a family.
First bottle.
First diaper.
First bath.
The nurses practically have to pry her from our arms both nights we’re there so they can take her back to the nursery.
Every single moment feels so right.
So perfect.
But.
It breaks my heart that we don’t get the chance to meet Lily. I want to thank her. Tell her that Juliet is going to have a wonderful life. That her decision to give her up was so selfless and strong, even for a young girl. My heart tugs whenever I think of Lily and how scared she must be. I ache to comfort her. To hold her and tell her everything is going to be okay.
“It’s time to go home,” Kevin whispers in my ear as his lips brush against my hair. This simple gesture distracts me from my sadness, if only slightly. I tighten the car seat straps and tuck the pink fleece blanket around our daughter.
“Yes, it’s time.” My cheeks warm as tears prick my eyes.
Jessica enters the room and her expression is stoic. My breath hitches and I’m suddenly nervous.
“Before you go home, I wanted to give you this.” She hands me an envelope with Juliet’s name scrawled across the front.
“Lily asked that you give this to Juliet when she’s old enough to understand all about her adoption. She wanted to explain why she did what she did.” Jessica purses her lips and bows her head. “You have to know how incredibly difficult this is for her.”
“Of course. I can’t imagine,” I say softly.
I’m overwhelmed, thinking about how to even explain all of this to a child, much less promise to give her a letter from her sixteen-year-old birth mother.
I touch my lips softly to Juliet’s nose, lingering for a moment. Kevin reaches down to take the carrier, kisses my cheek and says, “We’ll make sure that our daughter knows her story and how Lily loved her enough to make this heart-wrenching decision. She’s given us a gift, and we’ll repay her by raising Juliet with more love than she can absorb.”
His words should be comforting to me, but my heart is pulling me in another direction.
I’m terrified of what this letter could possibly contain.
My chest clenches and fearful thoughts swirl through my mind.
Dread for what this letter could contain.
Sadness for Lily and what she could be going through right now.
Fear for the future when we have to explain to Juliet about her adoption.
I try to compose myself, but the envelope feels like it’s about to ignite in my hand.
I tuck it into my purse and promise myself to hide it away forever.
Lily’s words have the potential to destroy Juliet’s happiness.
Our happiness.
No.
I vow to myself that Juliet will never see this letter.
The Past
Sausalito, California
Age 10
Dear Juliet,
I picked your name out of a hat that my teacher, Miss Morgan, passed around the class. I thought that I knew all of the kids in our grade, but I don’t think we’ve ever met. Are you new to our school?
Juliet. That’s a cool name. I’ve heard of Romeo and Juliet. Is that where you got your name?
Miss Morgan says that it’s sad that we don’t write letters anymore. She thinks that we use email too much. So as part of our class writing assignment this spring, we need to write a lot of letters. We have to pick someone from our same grade, but in a different class. So, I guess now you’re my pen pal? Or something like that.
My name is Seth Tyson. I like to play baseball, run track and swim. I have a big family—two younger sisters and an older brother. My sisters are twins and are six years old. Their names are Chloe and Chelsea. My brother is twelve and his name is Sean.
I also have a black lab named Mollie. She’s a year and a half old and likes to play a lot. She sleeps in my room and likes me the best out of everyone in my family. It’s probably because I give her so many treats and play fetch with her.
Okay. Time is up. Miss Morgan is collecting the letters so she can give them to your teacher.
Write back soon!
Yours truly,
Seth
After I sign my name, I fold the piece of paper and hand it to Miss Morgan.
“Cutting it a little close, Seth,” she says as she quickly takes the first letter that I’ve ever written. I mean, I’ve written letters to my mom for Mother’s Day, but nothing like this.
It’s so weird, writing letters. Why can’t we be email pen pals? That would make more sense, but Miss Morgan says that we don’t appreciate the ‘art of communication’ anymore. She came up with this project with one of the other teachers, and I now have a pen pal for the rest of the school year. She says it will help us appreciate the anticipation of waiting for a letter, like in the old days.
Juliet Oliver. I hope she’s not boring. I mean, I would rather have been paired with someone like me, who plays baseball and stuff. But a girl? I don’t know about this.
The bell rings and I shove all of my books into my backpack. Our driver, Bob, should be outside waiting to pick up my brother, sisters and me. There aren’t a lot of school buses that come to Chester Academy since most kids get rides from their parents or their family drivers. This is not a normal school, and I kind of hate it.
“Hey! Seth, wait up.” I stop and turn to see Jeremy running toward me. “Are you going to baseball tonight?” He catches his breath and tosses his backpack over his shoulder.
“Yeah,” I answer. Duh, I always go to baseball.
We walk outside and see both of our cars waiting for us. “Dude, will you hurry up?” Sean yells from the back seat of the limousine. He’s always outside before me and is annoyed with me every single day. I chuckle to myself a little bit. I like to make him wait.
“See you later,” Jeremy calls over his shoulder, “and don’t forget to bring my catcher’s mitt!”
“It’s already in my bag at home,” I shout to him as his car pulls away from the curb. Jeremy Reed is my best friend, and we play practically every sport together.
“God, Seth. Can’t you ever be on time?” Sean asks, irritated as usual. He has golf lessons every day after school and hates to be late. Our father wanted me to take golf too, but I’d rather play baseball. It’s so much more fun and I can see all of my friends. Golf is boring.
Our next stop is the building at the other end of the parking lot, where Chloe and Chelsea’s classrooms are. They’re in first grade.
I see the twins running toward the car as we pull up to the curb. Chloe is wearing pink ribbons in her pigtails today while Chelsea wears purple. It’s their color code so their teachers and friends can tell them apart. Chloe is always pink and Chelsea is always purple. Their bedrooms are color coordinated the same exact way. I shake my head and smile at my little sisters. They are such girls.
“Hi, Seanie and Sethie!” they say in unison as they slide into the seat across from me. Sean doesn’t even acknowledge their presence in the car, but I grin. They can be a pain in the butt most times, but I like that they look up to me as one of their big brothers.
The girls giggle and whisper during the drive. It’s a short trip home, and we pull up to our big house. It’s really big. Our family has a lot of money because our father does something with real estate. He buys and sells a lot of buildings in the Northern California area. He says that someday my brother and I are going to run his company. It seems boring and I hope that I can just play baseball instead.
Bob stops the car in front of the stairs and I jump out. I have to get myself ready for baseball and I’ve got to sit with my tutor, Mrs. Johnson, to do my homework before any after-school activities. It’s my mother’s rule. I bet Mrs. J. is already in the house, waiting for me.
I open the door and hear my mother’s voice coming from the kitchen. It sounds strained. Is she upset? Glass shatters as she cries and yells. I swallow hard and get the chills. Sean drops his bag and reaches out to stop my sisters from running through the foyer as he looks at me with worried eyes. I’ve never heard my mother yell before, much less cry.
“Why do you keep doing this to me, Ted? To us?” I hear her weep. “I don’t deserve this!”
I can only hear her voice. My father isn’t replying to her questions, or if he is, I can’t hear him. Sean starts to usher the girls upstairs and I follow. I try to peek around the large, winding staircase, but I can’t see anything.
“Goddamn you, Ted! We can’t continue to live like this. You’re making me look like a fool.” Her voice becomes weak and trails off as we all go upstairs. Sean brings us all into his room and closes the door.
“Why is Mommy yelling?” Chloe asks quietly.
“I don’t know, but we should give them their privacy,” Sean replies and turns on his television. He puts on Nickelodeon for the girls.
Oh man, it must be serious if he’s allowing Chloe and Chelsea’s favorite channel to play in his room. His room is usually off limits to everyone, but especially the girls. I look over to him. When our eyes meet, he just shakes his head. He seems just as worried as I feel right now.
I flop down into the beanbag chair next to the twins as I strain to listen to the muffled argument that is still taking place downstairs. A knot forms in my stomach and I’m suddenly sad for my mother. I’ve never heard her this upset. What did my father do to her? Is she angry about something one of us did?
The girls are huddled together watching their favorite show, Rugrats. They’re quickly absorbed in the cartoon and I look back at Sean. He’s on his bed with headphones on, listening to his MP3 player.
The front door slams and I grip the fabric of the beanbag chair. I hear my mother rush past Sean’s room. She’s still crying as she closes her bedroom door. I clench my teeth together, afraid of what’s happening.
“Is Mommy going to be okay?” Chelsea asks. She has tears in her eyes and cuddles into Chloe.
“I don’t know, Chelsea. I don’t know what’s going on,” I answer, and I look over to Sean, hoping that he’ll say something to me. To the girls. But he’s just lying there, staring up at his ceiling. The music piping into his ears is so loud I can actually hear it.
“I don’t want her to be sad, Seth. We need to do something to make her happy again,” Chelsea states as Chloe nods in agreement.
I’m afraid to get up and leave the room. I don’t want my mother to know that we heard her.
I look over at the clock on Sean’s nightstand. It just changed to four o’clock.
Crap. I’m going to miss baseball tonight.
I immediately feel guilty for thinking this, but I don’t want to be here right now.
I slouch lower in the beanbag chair and fix my eyes on the television, attempting to lose myself in the cartoon on the screen and drown out my mother’s sobs coming from the other room.
Sausalito, California
Age 8
“Say cheese!” Mom says from behind her camera.
“Cheese!” I sing with a huge smile on my face. Dad is standing next to me and squeezes me close to his body. We’re standing in my favorite park, near the Golden Gate Bridge.
“Happy Adoption Day, Sweetheart,” Dad whispers in my ear while he kisses my cheek.
We celebrate my Adoption Day every year on April sixteenth. Today is the anniversary of the day that my parents signed all kinds of legal documents that say that I’m theirs forever. It’s kind of like having another birthday. Even though I’ve been with my parents since the day I was born, Mom says someone from the state needed to visit us for six months after I came home. She was a social worker and Mom said she was so nice. She helped make my Adoption Day official.
My real birthday is on Halloween, which is really cool. All of my birthdays have been costume parties, and my parents find special ways to make it fun every year. Like last Halloween, when I turned seven, they planned a trick-or-treating party where each of my neighbors had a special game set up for me and my friends. We all got candy and prizes at each stop along our street, in addition to special clues to my birthday surprise. When we got back to our house, a puppy was jumping around in my backyard. He’s a yellow lab named Buster, and he’s my very best friend. That was the best birthday ever!
My parents also make this day very special for me every year. Today, we’re taking a road trip up north. They took me out of school early so that we can get out of the area before all of the traffic starts.
We’re heading to Portland, Oregon. I’m excited to see the pretty mountains and waterfalls up there.
Dad says that we can go to a place called Mount Tabor and play in a park there. It’s a real volcano! He says there are a lot of fun things to do in Portland, including visiting a zoo, Timberline Lodge and tons of waterfalls, and I can’t wait. I’m so excited. I feel like I’m going to burst.
“That was a gorgeous picture, Juliet,” Mom says while tucking her camera into her purse. She takes a lot of pictures. Like, a lot. She makes beautiful photo albums and sends them to my birth mother, Lily. I’ve never met her, but she gets letters and pictures from us a few times a year. I write letters to her, too, and make pictures for her in art class. Dad says that she made them the happiest people on earth when she chose them to adopt me.
I wonder what she thinks when she sees my family and me.
“Okay, let’s get in the car, Jules,” Dad says. “We have a long ride ahead of us.”
I hop into our big SUV, buckle myself and reach for the remote control for the DVD player. “Give that to me, please,” Mom says, reaching to take the remote from my hand. “You have homework to do, remember? Why don’t you get that done first? Then you can watch a movie. Deal?” She smiles and I reluctantly hand her the remote.
“Okay, Mom,” I say, reaching for my backpack. I take out my homework assignments for the week and find the letter from Seth Tyson. Mrs. McCaskey gave us a writing assignment for the remainder of the school year; we have each been assigned a pen pal from Miss Morgan’s class, and Seth is mine.
“What’s that in your hand?” Dad asks, peering into the rearview mirror.
“My pen pal letter from Seth Tyson. He’s in Miss Morgan’s class.”
My mother quickly looks at my father and he nods at her. She turns around and says, “Your father works with Seth’s dad. Did you know that?”
“No. That’s cool.”
We moved to Sausalito a few months ago when my father’s company was bought and he was relocated. When I came here, I tested at the fourth grade level, even though I was in third grade at my old school. My parents tell me that I’m practically two grades ahead, because at my old school, the age cutoff was different than at this school. My mom warns me that I’m going to be much younger than everyone else in my class by at least a year or two, but they know I’m smart and mature enough to handle it. I’m tall, so I fit in with the other girls. My mom says I’m not only as smart as them, but also more mature. I don’t know what that means, but I think it’s good.
My mom turns to look out the front of the car and we start to drive. I reread the letter that Seth wrote to me. He seems nice.
Mrs. McCaskey told us that our first letter should consist of things that are unique about us. That should be easy, so I start this assignment first.
Dear Seth,
Hi! My name is Juliet Oliver and I’m your pen pal for the rest of the school year. To answer your question, no, I’m not named after the Juliet from that play. I actually don’t know how I got my name, since my birth mother, Lily, named me.
