Family Recipe, page 5
“Oh my,” said Mrs. Rose. “This dog could walk all day and not tire out!”
“Can I take her around once?” I asked eagerly.
I saw Dad and Kelsey approaching the soccer field from the parking lot, but I figured I could get one quick lap in before we had to head home.
“You know, if you could run her once, that’d be great,” said Mrs. Rose. “I don’t really run, and this puppy seems to need a little bit more that I can do.”
“No problem!” I grinned. I had never walked a dog before, so I took the leash but wasn’t sure if I should pull it or not. I looked at Mrs. Rose.
“You don’t want to pull or tug too hard,” said Mrs. Rose. “Think of the leash more as a guide, so you show her what direction you want her to go.”
I nodded and started to run. In half a second Ruby was at my ankles, running with me. But soon the leash was getting tangled around my legs, and she kept running in front of me, then behind me.
She was yapping so much that I almost didn’t hear Mrs. Rose calling, “Rusty! Rusty!” behind me.
I turned my head and Rusty, the shy dog, was bolting toward me, his leash trailing behind him. Mrs. Rose was half running, half power walking to try to catch up to him.
Just then Dad sprinted down to the track. Rusty saw him following and really took off. That dog was fast. But so was Dad. Dad and Rusty were running together around the track, and if you didn’t know that Dad was trying to catch him, it looked like they were actually playing a game. Rusty kept looking at Dad, then pulling ahead a little bit. Dad would catch up and Rusty would take off again, like a big game of chase. But Rusty didn’t take off so far ahead of Dad. He seemed to want to stay with him.
Finally, Dad and Rusty went all the way around the track. Rusty saw Mrs. Rose waiting for him and slowed down, and Dad was able to grab his leash. Ruby and I finished our lap, Ruby yapping all the way. Kelsey was standing next to Mrs. Rose.
“Oh my goodness,” said Mrs. Rose, panting. “Well, that was a workout I didn’t expect!”
“This dog can run,” said Dad admiringly, petting Rusty’s head.
“Who knew?” said Mrs. Rose. “He’s been so quiet and timid. That’s the first time I think we’ve seen a little bit of his personality come out.”
Rusty looked up at Dad and closed his eyes. “Runners can always find each other,” said Dad, scratching Rusty under the chin.
“Ohhhhh,” said Kelsey, patting Ruby. “Dad, Molly was right. This dog is the cutest!”
“She’s pretty cute,” said Dad, still petting Rusty.
“Molly has always wanted a dog,” said Kelsey. “So, you know, this one…”
“First of all, we’ve talked about this,” said Dad. “A dog is a huge responsibility and a lot of work.”
“It is a big responsibility,” said Mrs. Rose. “And it’s important to think through. Not thinking it through leads to situations like poor Rusty.”
Rusty didn’t look sad exactly, but he did sort of look like he was worried. “You have just the right touch with him, Chris,” said Mrs. Rose.
“Molly and I both love dogs,” said Dad.
“Well, now that I see how he can run, I wish I could run with him more regularly,” said Mrs. Rose. “I may reach out and see if anyone in the rescue group runs, so I can pair him up with someone.”
Dad looked like he was mulling something over.
“Well,” he said, then stopped.
We all looked at him.
“Molly has been telling me to get my runs in while she has soccer practice. I think it’s her way of trying to distract her embarrassing dad.”
I rolled my eyes.
“But if I could bring Rusty to practices, then I can get my workout in, and we’d be able to get Rusty a run in too.”
Rusty perked up his ears and stood up.
“Ah, you like to run!” said Dad to Rusty in a mushy baby voice. Kelsey and I started laughing.
“Well, that would be super,” said Mrs. Rose. “If you can manage it, I’d love to take you up on that offer!”
As Dad and Mrs. Rose looked at their schedules on their phones and coordinated Rusty’s runs, Kelsey and I took turns petting Ruby.
“Isn’t she the sweetest?” I said, sighing.
“She’s super cute,” said Kelsey.
“Wouldn’t you love to come live with us?” I said to Ruby, pulling her onto my lap. She settled in, then jumped up again and went chasing after a squirrel.
Kelsey and I ran after her, and then I ran ahead, blocking her, and Kelsey scooped her up. “You are a handful!” she said breathlessly.
“She’s totally going to be ours,” I said to Kelsey.
Kelsey said, “Mom will never say yes.”
“We’ll see,” I said, already dreaming of Ruby snuggling next to me in bed at night.
Chapter Eight Family Love
We got home a few minutes later than planned, and Jenna and Mom were already getting dinner on the table.
“I got dinner started!” said Mom, and the four of us looked at each other. “It seemed like a good fall night to start with soup, so I brought some of Nans’s squash soup home from the restaurant.”
We all looked relieved.
“And I stopped and picked up a loaf of bread and a salad,” Mom said.
“That sounds like a perfect fall dinner,” said Dad.
“And Nans sent home more apple pie for taste testing. Since Molly told her it was perfect, she’s obsessed with making it absolutely perfect,” Mom said. “She made about five pies today and told me to bring this one home to see if ‘perfect can get more perfect.’ Oh, and she said to put ice cream on top of it. Vanilla, if possible.”
“Well if she said to add ice cream, I guess we’ll have to add ice cream,” said Kelsey.
We sat down and Mom said, “Let’s do best and worst.”
Best and worst is a thing Mom and Dad do at dinner: each person has to tell the best and worst thing that happened that day. We do the worst part because as Mom always says, sometimes bad comes with the good, but that’s okay.
“I’ll go first,” said Jenna. “Best is that I’ll be doing a piano solo in the fall recital. Worst is that now I have tennis, tutoring, work, and a solo to study for.”
“Jenna, that’s wonderful!” said Mom. “A solo is a big mark of excellence and confidence from your teacher.”
“Well, my best thing today was playing with an adorable dog that Molly says we’re going to adopt,” said Kelsey.
“What?” said Mom, looking at Dad.
“Oh, no, no, no,” said Dad. “I said it was not a good time for us to adopt a pet. And I meant it.”
“Well, then I guess the worst part is that we aren’t getting a dog,” said Kelsey, looking at me.
“It’s not fair!” I said. Suddenly I was just really frustrated. “I can take care of a dog. I’ll need help buying food and taking her to the vet, but otherwise I don’t need anyone’s help!”
“Sweetie,” said Dad. “I love you, but I saw you today and you could barely walk that dog yourself, let alone take care of it yourself.”
“Where were you walking a dog?” asked Jenna.
“Mrs. Rose was walking her three dogs around the track while she had soccer practice,” Dad said.
“What’s your best thing?” Mom asked me.
I sulked a little and didn’t answer. I knew getting a dog was a lot of work, and I knew Mom had already said no, but I’d had a bad week, and it was getting worse. “Nothing,” I said. “Nothing was good today.”
“Find one good thing,” said Dad.
I dug in. I knew I was kind of acting like a baby, but tonight I was just not in the mood to play this game. “Nope.”
“So your day was so terrible that not even one little good thing happened?” said Dad.
They all looked at me.
“Are you upset because of the Eric thing?” asked Kelsey.
I glared at her.
“Okay, now this is the second time I’ve heard ‘the Eric thing’ come up today. What is going on?” Dad said. He and Mom were looking at me.
“You brought it up, Kelsey,” I said. “So you tell them.”
I was mad at Kelsey, but honestly, I was a teeny-tiny bit grateful. I didn’t know how to tell them about what was going on with the family tree. So I let Kelsey do it.
Kelsey sighed. “Lindsay told me. She was worried about Molly.”
“What is it?” asked Mom, her voice getting a little high.
“In history class we have to do a project with a family tree,” said Kelsey. “It’s supposed to be a lesson where we learn more about our family history and how it shaped us. Ms. Blueski said history can be about wars and stuff, but it can also be personal.”
“And?” said Dad.
“Eric Sellers told Molly that her tree wasn’t real. He said that because she was adopted, she had a real family and us, who I guess aren’t her real family. Molly got upset and ran out of class,” Kelsey finished.
It is not usually quiet in our house. Jenna is loud, Kelsey is always talking or singing, and Dad often hums or has music playing. Mom is always moving around doing something.
But just then it was silent, and we all sat there staring at our food. I could hear the tick tick tick of the grandfather clock in the front hall.
Then Dad said, “Oh, Molly!” and burst into tears.
“This is not about you, Mr. Goo,” said Mom.
“It’s about my daughter!” said Dad, sniffing into his napkin.
“Okay,” said Mom. “Kelsey heard this from Lindsay. I don’t like playing the telephone game with things like this. Molly, can you please tell us exactly what happened?”
I didn’t want to talk about it, but I knew if I didn’t, they’d never let it go. And also I had no idea how to handle Eric. Or the feeling I had in my stomach, all tight and queasy.
“Eric Sellers asked me if I was adding my ‘real mom’ to my family tree, because Mom wasn’t my real mom. Lindsay turned around and told him that Mom was real and not fake, but he kind of wouldn’t let it go. I didn’t run out of class. I just left quickly when it was over.”
“All right,” said Dad, blowing his nose. “Let’s break this down. First of all, you are our real daughter, and Mom and I are your real parents.”
“I know that,” I said.
“Good,” said Dad. “You are adopted, but you know that, too.”
“I do recall being told that, yes,” I said.
Dad stifled a laugh. “You do have biological parents, and a mother who gave birth to you.”
“I know that, too,” I said.
“Okay,” said Dad. “Now, sometimes people say stupid things, but not because they’re trying to be awful. It’s because they have questions, but they don’t know how to sensitively ask them. Do you think that might be the case with Eric? That maybe he’s just curious about your family tree?”
I thought about that a second.
“Maybe,” said Kelsey. “He’s not a bad person; he’s just, like, the most annoying kid in the class.”
“Molly?” asked Dad.
“I don’t know,” I said. “But he upset me.”
“Are you upset because he was rude, or are you upset because you didn’t know how to answer him?” asked Mom.
Bingo. The thing about Mom is that somehow she always knows what I’m feeling.
I looked at her. “Yes,” I whispered. “Both.”
“Okay. The simple answer is that, yes, you are adopted. And technically you have a biological mother, who gave birth to you, and me, the person you call Mom, who actually is your mother.”
I nodded.
Mom continued. “What’s important on this tree isn’t just the facts of it, although there are, of course, facts. The tree is about your family. The family tree can represent your history in whatever way you feel is best.”
“Isn’t history based on facts?” Kelsey asked.
“Well, yes, but the fact is that Mom and I are Molly’s parents,” said Dad. “So if she lists that, then it’s factually correct. If Molly also lists her biological mother, that’s factually correct too. But she can also leave her out if she’s not comfortable discussing that.”
“But how factual is it if she leaves out some facts?” asked Jenna. “I mean, she should put everything she knows in the tree.”
I felt like everyone was talking about me, but nobody was talking to me. Suddenly I felt the same way I had in class, like I just had to get out of there. I pushed my chair away and ran out the front door.
Chapter Nine Nature Vs. Nurture
I sat down on the front step, not sure what to do next. A few minutes later the door opened. Dad threw my sneakers on the step.
“C’mon,” he said. He was already wearing his running shoes and was carrying more gear.
I put my sneakers on. “Where are we going?” I asked.
Dad jogged down the front walk. He put on his reflective jacket and headlamp and handed me one of each too. I guess they were Mom’s.
“Sometimes when you feel like running, the best thing to do is actually run,” said Dad. “Let’s go.”
I followed him down the path, out into the quiet street, and the two of us took off. We just ran, side by side, a nice slow pace, not saying anything for a long while.
“Look at those stars,” said Dad.
I looked up and he was right. There were a ton of stars. It was crisp and cool, and it felt good breathing in the night air.
We jogged around the neighborhood. I followed Dad as we ran past Casey’s house. I could see her sitting at her desk in her bedroom. I wondered if she was texting Lindsay. The two of them were best friends.
There’s one road in our neighborhood that leads to a dead end. If you go on the trail, it leads to the lake. We reached the dead end and Dad turned around. Someone had their windows open, and you could hear music and people’s voices.
I heard a kid shout, “Nooooo,” and I wondered if it was one of the Sherer kids since they lived in our neighborhood.
I was waiting for Dad to try to talk about things. I kept looking at him, but he was just looking straight ahead. Maybe he was waiting for me to start talking. But there was something really nice about being together in silence. We were both breathing hard, and all I could hear was the slap slap of our sneakers hitting the pavement. I felt my body begin to relax.
When we finally came back up our street, I was tired. We reached our driveway, and Dad turned off his headlamp.
He smiled. “You have the running bug!” he said. “I’m sorry to say there’s no cure. But running regularly definitely helps.”
I laughed. “It must be genetic!” Then I stopped. “Dad, how can I tell what’s genetic and what I just pick up from you and Mom?”
Dad went up the front walk, and I followed him.
“Well,” he said, sitting down on the step. “There’s something called nature versus nurture. Nature means what you are genetically predetermined to do or have, like brown eyes or a tall frame. Nurture is more about what affects you growing up, like what language is spoken at home, if you live in a city or a small town, or what your family does on the weekends. If, say, you grow up in a family who cooks a lot, you might be more likely to cook.”
“Well, nature or nurture, I’m not getting any cooking skills from Mom,” I said, sitting down next to him.
“No,” said Dad. “But you might get her love of eating together as a family, or the importance she puts on fresh foods.”
I nodded. “Which matters more?”
“There’s a lot of debate about that,” said Dad. “There’s no definitive answer, but they both affect you.”
“So maybe my biological father was a runner?”
“Possibly,” said Dad. “Or your biological mother. But Mom and I are also runners, so it’s unclear whether that’s nature or nurture.”
I sighed.
“I’m sorry this week was hard for you,” said Dad. “Mom and I are always worried that you might have questions, but we don’t always think about the questions other people might have about you.”
“Yeah,” I said. I tightened my fists, just like my stomach was tightening.
“What is it?” Dad asked.
“It’s just weird to think there’s this other family out there. I never really thought about it like that. Like, is there a person walking around wondering about me?”
“Maybe,” Dad said. “In terms of your adoption, we don’t have a lot of details. We know your biological mother’s name but not your biological father’s name. And your bio mom’s name is a very common name in South Korea. We tried to find out more information so we’d have it for you, but we’ve come up short. We have her medical history that she gave the adoption agency, but that doesn’t say anything about, like, what her favorite food was, or if she liked to play soccer.”
We’d gone through my story many times before. My biological mother put me up for adoption when I was a few weeks old. We don’t know exactly why, but she was very young, and Mom and Dad thought maybe she wasn’t ready or prepared to become a mother.
I was also born with an eye condition that required me to have surgery when I was about a year old. It went fine, but I still wear glasses now to see a movie or to see the whiteboard in class. It wasn’t major surgery, but hearing that a baby needs surgery can be scary. Maybe that had something to do with my birth mother’s decision too.
I lived in a house run by an adoption agency for a few months until Mom and Dad flew to South Korea to bring me home. We have the picture on the mantel of Jenna holding me at the airport, wearing a BIG SISTER T-shirt. Nans and Grandpa were there, and Grandma, my dad’s mother, and PopPop, my dad’s father, too.
Everyone looked happy except for me. I was really red in the face and crying.
Mom opened the door and peeked out. “Oh, you’re back!” she said. She came out and sat on the step next to me. “I do not like you running at night,” she said.
“Who, me?” said Dad.
“Well, you, too, but mainly Molly. Cars speed on these streets.”
“We stayed in the neighborhood,” I said. “And we wore our headlamps so people could see us.”
