Meeting Kristin

Meeting Kristin

by

Pamela Blair

On Friday morning, Thea stepped out of the shower, grabbed a towel and ran her hand across the steamy mirror. In the narrow line of reflection she regarded her face: a somber old woman stared back at her, one eye clouded with a cataract. She didn’t know if she was looking forward to this day or dreading it. She wondered if Kristin would look like her or Lou. Thea hoped she wouldn’t ask about him—even the thought of him made her nauseous. She wondered if Kristin would be angry at her, or glad to finally meet her. She wondered if she would feel the guilt and longing that stabbed her each time she thought of Kristin, or if their meeting would wash it all away. For a moment, paralysis seized her. Maybe she should call Kristin and say she couldn’t come. She’d caught a cold. She’d broken her leg. Kristin would know it wasn’t true. 

The truth was, she was scared to meet Kristin after almost fifty years. Scared that Kristin would hate her. Scared she’d crumble at the first sight of her middle-aged daughter. 

My daughter. 

The one she’d carried for nine months, had brought into this world, and had given away. The words ‘my daughter’ echoed in her head as she dried off and reached for her clothes. She dressed, combed her wet hair, put on a dab of lipstick. Why did she care what she looked like? Somehow, she did. 

She’d meet Kristin at the Centennial Hotel in Concord—elegant, built 120 years earlier with dark red bricks. The old Victorian’s best features were two tall Queen Anne turrets, circular roofs that looked like pointed witches’ hats. The rooms had porches where they could sit and talk. Or they could talk while walking around Concord. She hoped Kristin would get a kick out of the New England feel. Suddenly, she realized she didn’t even know where Kristin had grown up.

As Thea walked up the stairs to the reception desk, she wondered if she’d recognize her. She asked the receptionist to ring Kristin and tell her that Thea was waiting in the lounge. She’d wanted to say “her mother was waiting,” but resisted. Mother. The ring of it was pleasantly jarring. She found a comfortable overstuffed chair, sank into it and picked up a magazine. She’d stopped smoking twenty years earlier, but she sure could use a cigarette now.

#

The elevator door opened and two women stepped out. Kristin had said she was coming with her sister, Greta, “just in case.” Thea knew immediately which one was Kristin—the tall, thin, blond—the one who looked like Thea had when she was fifty, only dressed with more flare than Thea’d ever dressed. Her own mother, she realized, would love Kristin’s taste. Thea stood, unsure of what to do, waiting for Kristin to make the first move. 

Kristin crossed the lobby slowly, as if she were sizing up this new mother with each step. From the far side of the room, Thea froze. Her breath caught in her throat. An unwanted eye twitch broke her face’s mask and she felt her body tremble. 

It seemed like ages until Kristin was in front of her. “You must be Thea,” Kristin said, a smile pasted on her face.

Right there and then, Thea burst into tears. She lunged at Kristin, wrapped her arms around her neck, and began sobbing. “Oh, I’m so sorry! I’m so sorry!” she cried. “I’m so happy to see you, and I’m so sorry!” She couldn’t stop blubbering her apology, both old and new shame engulfing her. 

Kristin shifted from one foot to the other. She glanced around as if looking to Greta for help. Greta raised her shoulders in a “don’t ask me” shrug. A long minute passed, Thea still clinging to Kristin, until at last Kristin wrapped her arms around Thea. “It’s okay, it’s okay,” she murmured, patting Thea’s back, as she would one of her own children. 

Greta came up and placed a hand on Kristin’s shoulder. “It’s okay,” she said. The three remained in a huddle for another minute.

Shit! I’ve ruined it! They wanted to kick herself, wanted to rewind time and get a second chance. She was standing in the middle of the lobby with the most important person in her life, and she’d acted like a lunatic. Gradually she gathered herself together and pulled away from Kristin. When she saw Kristin’s receptive expression she relaxed. She stopped shaking and wiped the tears from her face. A tentative smile, part relief and part hope, replaced her mask of terror. The three walked out of the hotel and into the summer sunshine. 

“There’s a music festival in town at White Park,” Thea said, now in control of herself. “We could walk over. A little later, there’ll be an outdoor concert. Would you like to go?" She wanted to impress Kristin with the high points of New Hampshire culture. 

“Anything is fine.” Kristin’s eyes were still damp, and she couldn’t take them off her mother. She asked “How are you?" as if to restart the meeting.

“I’m just fine now,” Thea said, wiping the last of her tears away, “and so happy to finally meet you! I’ve been waiting for this day for years.”

Thea stole glances at Kristin as they walked, and once caught Kristin glancing toward her, then averting her eyes. Who is she? She hoped the chasm wasn’t too wide. She really wanted to know who the child she’d borne was.

The conversation continued in fragments. Both women were too stunned to say anything of importance, while Greta made encouraging comments from time to time, as if trying to help. At the park, they ate hotdogs and found seats for the performance.

After the concert, they returned to the hotel. Kristin and Greta would drive to Boston the next day for their flight back to Milwaukee. 

They stood in the lobby, time going by too fast, emotions swirling around them. Thea beamed at her daughter, so poised and elegant., not yet ready to say goodbye.

“Would you like something to drink?” Thea asked. 

“I’d love that.” Kristin and Greta exchanged a look.

“I’m going up to the room,” Greta said. “I’m a little tired, and I’ll let you two have some time to yourselves." 

Mother and daughter walked into the bar, found a small table at the back, then sat across from each other. When the waiter arrived, they both ordered white wine. Thea braced herself, then opened the come-to-Jesus conversation she knew Kristin must be waiting to have.

“I suppose you have a lot of questions for me.” 

“Kind of.” Then Kristin said something unexpected. “I just have to say, first, that what feels so good is seeing another person who looks like me. I didn’t realize how much I missed, living with people I didn’t look like, until I had my Matthew. That was the first time I had the feeling of actually resembling anyone. It overwhelmed me. I loved my mother, but now, seeing you, the word “mother” has an entirely different level of meaning.”

Thea teared up, but refused to spoil the moment. “Kristin, the minute you walked out of the elevator on Friday I was overwhelmed, realizing that I’d produced you, and that you look like me.” She could hear her voice rising, almost like it had when she first saw the newborn Kristin so many years earlier. She studied her hands for a few seconds, then looked up. “I suppose the biggest question you have is why I gave you up for adoption.”

“Well, yes. I made up stories about you, but I knew they were only make-believe. I was always waiting, hoping that someday I’d be able to find you. Sometimes, when I was having a hard time in our family, I wanted you to come and rescue me. I loved my mother, but I couldn’t forget I wasn’t really hers. There’s something unreal about the entire set-up.” She lowered her eyes as if she were afraid she’d said too much.

The waiter brought their wine, Kristin took a sip and continued to look down at the napkin she was unconsciously shredding, then continued. “She told me how lucky I was, because she loved me so much, but inside, I really felt unlucky. There was a sadness inside me that I couldn’t get rid of. I was just a replacement for something they wanted but couldn’t have—like a doll or a puppy—that was supposed to make them happy or save their marriage.” She paused, then looked directly at Thea. “And I always wondered why you would give me away.”

“Oh, Kristin, I’m so sorry. If I could have kept you, I would have. I loved you from the moment I held you the day after you were born. But at the time, my life was a big mess.”

Even though Thea had envisioned this conversation countless times, she wasn’t sure how to explain. How could she talk about those days, about her decision to give her baby away, without talking about sex? And, could she actually tell Kristin about her issues with sex? 

So she did what she always did when she felt unsure of herself. Blurted it out. 

“In those days, girls were supposed to ‘save themselves’ for their husbands,” she said, nervously tapping the table. Yet, I had all these physical urges, and was constantly getting myself into impossible situations with men, wanting but not wanting sex because of my Christian faith. It was so confusing. I felt so guilty. It back must be so much easier for women now than it was then.”

“I can’t imagine.” Kristin’s face bore a look of tenderness. “Jake and I lived together before we got married, and we didn’t have Matthew until we’d been married for another two years.” 

Thea nodded, then plunged ahead, ignoring Kristin’s comment. “When I finally managed to break the sexual taboo, I went wild.” She couldn't believe she was confessing this to her daughter. She never could have had such openness with her own mother. It felt freeing. She couldn’t stop herself. “It was like a dam burst, and I didn’t have to hold myself back anymore. It was around then that I met Lou, your father. He was as mixed up as I was.” Thea realized she was talking to Kristin as if she were another female friend and not her daughter. Meeting her at nearly fifty was so confusing!

“Yes, I tried to look him up,” Kristen interjected, as if she were subtly maneuvering the conversation away from sex. Then she leaned forward and reached for Thea’s hand. “What a difficult time the early sixties must have been.” 

  Thea felt the light pressure of Kristin’s fingers—fingers shaped like hers. It electrified her. It’s the hand I would have held for years if I’d kept her. 

She didn’t know what to say next, so she just sat, drinking in Kristin on the other side of the table: her eyes, the way her hair curled slightly, the habit she had of pushing up her glasses when they slid down her nose. The likeness was uncanny. Had her own mother seen her likeness in Thea? Her breath caught as she remembered the other part of the story that she wanted Kristin to know.

“There’s more,” she said, her heart thrumming. “My mother was hospitalized with mental breakdowns several times while I was growing up, and I was worried I might be as crazy as she was. So I admitted myself into a psychiatric hospital.” Thea gazed at Kristin, checking her reaction. Seeing no sign of rejection, she continued. “I was there when I realized I was pregnant. In the end, the psychiatrist said I didn’t have my mother’s illness, that I was just having a hard time transitioning to adulthood.” She took a sip of wine and exhaled. The worst of the story was out. 

Kristen nodded slowly.“How did you feel when you found out?” she asked. “Did you think about having an abortion?”

“Oh, no!” Thea shook her head. “I helped a friend get an abortion a month before I found I was pregnant. It was horrible. After that, I knew I couldn’t do that.” Then she looked directly at Kristin. “Besides, I wanted to take responsibility for what I’d done. For the first time in my life, I made a reasoned decision, instead of acting impulsively. My first truly adult choice.”

“And you couldn’t keep me because you weren’t in a position to be a mother.”

“Right. That’s pretty much the story.” Thea waited for a moment, then added, again looking directly at Kristin, the question she’d been dying to ask: “But I want to find out about you. How has your life been?”

Kristin shifted in her chair, hesitating, as if Thea had put her on the hot seat. Maybe it‘s too soon to ask her to tell her whole story, Thea thought. Am I being pushy? 

After a long pause, Kristin began. “I think you know that both my parents are dead. They adopted another child after me, my brother, probably in hopes of saving their marriage, but it didn’t work. After they divorced, my mother married another guy, and they had Greta.” Her voice became dry and distant, as if she were thinking back to the painful years of her childhood. “That marriage failed, too. She tried a third time, and that guy was even worse. She divorced him after only two years. She raised us on her own until we left for college.” 

Kristin’s painful history hit Thea like a slug to her gut. It hurt to see the sadness in her daughter’s eyes. She could tell there was more to Kristin’s story—a woman couldn’t have three divorces and be able to take care of three kids adequately. Thea's one divorce had leveled her for almost two years.

“I’m so sorry you had all those disruptions,” Thea uttered feebly, sensing that, as sad as the story was, Kristin was trying to put a positive spin on it. 

“Yes, but even so, she was a good mother,” Kristin’s chin came up. “She always said she loved my brother and me as much as she did Greta, but I was always jealous of Greta. She was the real daughter. I just had this huge hunger that my mother couldn’t fill. It wasn’t her fault. I swore that if I got pregnant accidentally I’d keep the baby. Luckily, I met Jake and that wasn’t necessary. Both our kids were planned.”

Thea’s eyes moistened. No matter how much she’d wanted the best for her daughter, it hadn’t been possible to get it perfect. “Were you angry at me for giving you up?”

“Sometimes. But mostly I just longed to meet you, to see what you looked like. To end the mystery. So when the law changed and I could finally try to find you, I was on it immediately. I’m so glad you were, too.”

Thea smiled. “Thank you so much for coming all this way to meet me. It’s a dream come true. Better than a dream. I never dreamed I could feel this happy. You’ve made me happier than I’ve been in almost fifty years—ever since the day I first held you in the hospital.”

“Me, too.” Kristin hesitated for a moment, close to tears. “By the way, I don’t know what to call you. ‘Mom’ doesn’t feel right. I hope you understand. Is it okay if I just call you Thea?”

“Of course! I didn’t mother you, and I wouldn’t expect you to call me Mom. That word belongs to the woman who raised you. ‘Thea’ is just fine.” 

But, if someday you slipped and called me ‘mom,’ I’d be delighted! 

Thea fought back tears, suddenly overwhelmed with emotion. Her feelings were too confusing, too big to contain, and yet she had to contain them, to show Kristin she wasn’t crazy. To make this the first of many meetings, not just this one. 

Kristin looked at her for a moment, as if she were making a decision. Then she said, “I was thinking that I’d like you to meet Jake, and Matthew, and Anya,” she said at last.. Do you think you’d be able to come to Wisconsin sometime? I know they want to meet you.”

“Of course I would! I never even thought I’d have grandchildren, and now I have two! My cup runneth over!” 

I passed the test! 

“Okay. Let’s plan it for next summer when everybody will be on vacation.” Kristin stared at Thea, drinking her in. “Thea, next to having my own two kids and my wedding day, this is the best day of my life. I feel more complete than I ever have.” Her tears finally broke through.

“Mine, too.” Now she was crying as well. They rose from the table and left the bar. At the hotel’s entrance, they embraced in a bear hug. Thea inhaled Kristin’s perfume and felt the silkiness of her graying hair—the hair that had been a faint halo around her head the last time she’d seen her. Seeing her daughter looking so radiant, Thea was bursting with happiness. 

“See you next summer in Wisconsin!” Then Thea turned and floated to her car.