Chapter 2: Erica Begins

JIM

Erica took a deep breath.

“OK. Here’s the first thing you should know.” She raised her voice a little because of the rough asphalt. “You know my date of birth. My certificate is blank for my father’s information and only a name and birth date for mother are listed.”

“Oh, no. I’m sorry.” Before this day, Erica hadn’t been willing to tell me anything about her mother.

“No, it’s fine. But Jim, apparently I was premature; I was half the size and weight of normal term babies. I must have been rushed directly to intensive care. But when I was stable and ready for release, my mother had vanished. I’ve never met her or located her. In fact, I’m sure her name on the certificate is fake.”

“Really?”

“It’s ‘Julie Roberts’ and in those days the actress Julia Roberts, with an ‘a,’ was well-known. According to the social worker’s notes I reviewed, it seems the hospital didn’t try to verify the name and birth date which she provided to them. An unknown person left her at the emergency room in late labor—she was about to give birth. After I was delivered, they rushed me away for urgent treatment. Sometime soon after that, my mother dressed and slipped away from the hospital. Nobody challenged or stopped her because she wasn’t trying to leave with me.”

“Jesus. This all sounds crazy.”

“Jim, nobody was with her to answer questions, and her situation was medically critical. Again, these details are from what little was recorded in the sketchy case notes. One other thing: she was only 14, too young to legally consent to sex.”

We were coming up on one of those highway rest areas, so I took the exit. For a little privacy, I parked several vacant spaces away from the other cars. But she seemed confused, looking left and right.

“Jim! What’s wrong? Is it the car? Or do you need a men’s room?”

“I’m a terrible partner. Erica, I’m sorry. You’ve been clear about your privacy and your feelings. I should not have been so nosy.”

“Stop. We just ... I just explained that I wanted you to know. About my adoption, there are only a few more things I need to tell you.”

“I shouldn’t have interrupted. Please go on.”

“Jim, those brief notes quickly written by a social worker are all the information I ever found about my birth, or my biological mother. As a cute baby, I went into the system, and was quickly adopted. To their credit, my new parents always told me the truth, probably because I looked different from them. When I was older, they passed on all those details that I’ve just told you about.”

I shook my head. “You don’t understand. I had some difficult experiences with adoption affecting an old friend, Jake. Unlike you, he uncovered his adoption at thirteen, and everything went to shit. It was all bad, because his parents kept lying to him that he was not adopted. But he knew the truth. He couldn’t trust them, and he struggled with common feelings of being dumped and unloved by his bio mom. Over the years I did a lot of reading that helped me understand his struggles.”

“Jim, everybody’s different. But yes, I think those feelings that you’ve been rejected can bother you. Maybe even haunt you, like in the teen years. But all of that is one thousand percent easier when your parents are honest with you. My adoptive mother told me she had medical issues, miscarriages. When she couldn’t get through a full pregnancy, she ended up with me. I felt loved and trusted her. Jake didn’t have that advantage, I guess.”