CHAPTER TWO
Regret stung her.
" I am so stupid"
She accused. Sitting on her bed, locked up in her room, she had time to think over her accusations.
Salome stared at the mother and daughter photo on her bedside table, and the undeniable resemblance between them, she was convinced her conviction was wrong. How could she accuse her mother because of something an outsider said?
A knock at the door snapped her back to the present, just outside her room Gramps stood.
"Do you really think, you are adopted?"
Gramps began the moment she let him in.
"I really don't know what to think anymore Gramps"
She confessed, matter-of-factly.
"Then why think at all?"
As silly as it sounds, why did she think at all? She couldn't doubt the love and attention she receives. If indeed she was adopted, why did Catherine love her so much? Why would everyone love and care so much? Never had she felt not wanted or unloved? Was it possible to share the same traits with her mother if she wasn't her daughter? There were so many unanswered questions running through her ten years old mind.
Thinking so much made her head hurt and soon she fell asleep listening to Gramps chatter away about his experiences as a young lad. A story she had heard too many times but still held a calming effect on her.
Dinner was ready and everyone except Salome settled at the table. The shock of her daughter's question was still evident in Catherine's voice and composure.
"Nanny Cruz, please call Salome. Tell her to come down for dinner"
She instructed. Recalling her encounter with Salome, she decided to go get her daughter herself. For a moment, she contemplated disclosing everything to Salome, but when she got to the door she shook the thought off her head.
"Salome Darling, please open up for me"
Catherine waited for Salome to open up to her bedroom door but there was no response from her.
"Salome, my child, please open up. I promise, you are my child, you have to believe me, you aren't adopted. I birthed you"
She pleaded but melt dead silence from inside. Panicked rushed through her. A lot of what-ifs crawl to her mind. What if Salome had hurt herself?
"Ok I'm coming in"
Catherine called one last time before forcefully pushing the door open. Relief washed over her the moment she met Salome sleeping soundly on her bed.
Catherine couldn't resist the tear that waited her out. She felt her daughter's agony, even as an adult, it was hard losing her mother. Her daughter growing up without her father wasn't an easy decision but she had done it for her safety and that of her daughter. To keep her safe and from harm's way. Now it hurts to see her little living in doubt. If only things were different. She thought within herself, but it wasn't. Things were different. And that made her even sadder.
Salome woke up later than usual that morning, to find Catherine by her side. It wasn't unusual, but the tension she had created the night before made her stiffen at her touch.
"Mom, wake up, you will be late for work"
Catherine woke to Salome fully dressed and ready for school.
"good morning Mom"
Salome greeted, still pained from last night. Catherine could sense it in her voice, matter of fact, Salome deserves to know that she wasn't adopted, but how does she explain to her daughter the circumstances surrounding her birth? It wasn't something Catherine was ready to bring up, Salome's father was a part of her she intends to bury in the past forever.
She had to put herself together, what mattered most was easing the tension between Salome and herself.
"did you sleep well?"
Catherine asked, surprised by the nervousness in her voice.
"yes, did you?"
Replied Salome, doing her best to avoid Catherine's gaze. Her plan didn't work out, soon enough, Catherine caught the unusual makeup Salome applied, a failed attempt to hide her bruises.
"what is it, Mom?"
Her gaze met her mother.
"Salome, what happened to your face? What are these bruises?"
"Mom I…"
She stammered, unable to meet the displeasure on Catherine's face.
"don't tell me you got into a fight again?"
Catherine was irritated by Salome's continuous involvement in fights.
"I'm sorry"
She mumbled, disappointed in herself.
" Why do keep you getting into fights?"
" I'm sorry Mom, it won't happen again"
She promised.
"No! You always promise but you never keep any. Now I want to know, what is the problem? Tell me the reason why you keep fighting?"
"Because of Mom…"
The words caught in her throat, unwilling to come out.
"Tell me!"
Catherine commanded.
"Because I am adopted, every child at the park says I'm not your child. Everyone comes with their dad but I don't. I don't have a dad and you, Gramps, and Aunt Raina are all White but I'm not"
Salome didn't hide her tears, she let them out, let the pains and burdens flow out with the tears.
" white kids from the other streets and in school all bully me. They say you made a mistake adopting a negro for a child"
Her words stung more than bees. It hurt Catherine to see her daughter suffer too much. It hurt her even more to acknowledge her helplessness in dealing with the peer pressure Salome suffers.
Salome stopped wailing and turned to her mother, she admit she was too young to understand the workings of grown-ups. But still, she needs her mother to also understand that children suffer too. Children suffer from the decisions grown-ups make, they hurt and are affected as much too. And even though it all seem wrong to her, even though she was too young to understand, she wanted to know. In a way she believes knowing where she stood will help ease her pains and long-suffering.
"Mother, please tell me the truth, am I adopted? If I am, then why adopt a negro for a child?
Catherine's heart bled at her daughter's questions, she had expected them and had been preparing herself for the day Salome was ready to ask about her Father, but that day wasn't today. Not the way she had imagined it would be. It scared and shook her to her bones.
"Salome dear, I know you are upset with me. I totally understand your grievances, I need you to believe it when I say you are not adopted, I conceived and birthed you"
Catherine choose her words carefully, she was careful not to say what would raise more questions from Salome. She admits Salome never acts her age, she possesses a mature and sensitive mind, one that was oblivion to kids her age.
Salome attempted to speak again but Catherine beat her to it. Catherine knew too well the questions that formed in her daughter's head. It troubled her that Salome would be having such thoughts at such a tender age. She understands it was only a matter of time before the truth reveals itself but until then, Salome only needs to know enough to keep from hurting even more than she already has.
"yes, he's black, a Nigerian"
Salome sprung at the revelation. Never in her wildest dream had she thought her father was Nigerian. Her excitement maximize at the thought of what Jasmine and Jasper would say when she told them she was half Nigerian.
"Where is he?"
Salome asked bubbling with excitement. Never again would she be bullied and called names. Her excitement was short-lived when her mother's expression changed suddenly.
Salome suddenly felt her heart beating faster than usual. The expression on her mother's face scared her. A part of her wants to know but the other part wasn't ready to bear the weight of what the answers to her questions will be, what if her father never wanted her, what if he eloped with another woman? Worst still, what if he's dead? With that in mind, she decided to only find out when she was ready to handle the truth about her father's absence in her life and her mother's. Then she will be older and stronger. For now, all she wanted was to revel in the conviction that she was indeed a daughter of that family, not by adoption but by birth.
Catherine was more pleased with Salome's decision for her to withhold information about her ex-husband until she was ready to handle the outcome than she was willing to admit.
However, it didn't ease the pain in her heart. At the office, she lost her touch, her head spun and flooded with memories, memories that still hurt, memories of the daughter she was forced to leave behind when she was forced out of her marriage and home like a fugitive.