From: UltimateXFfan@aol.com
Date: Wed, 05 Mar 2003 15:34:09 -0500
Subject: NEW: Cafe Confessions (1/1) by Rae
Source: direct

TITLE: Cafe Confessions
AUTHOR: Rae
SPOILERS: William
KEYWORDS: William/Angst
Summary: Can you correct your past to build your future?
DISCLAIMER: ::snort::
DISTRIBUTION: Please ask. 
I'll most likely be thrilled and say yes.
FEEDBACK: ultimateXFfan@aol.com
THANKS: to ga for a quick beta.  I'd also like to 
thank sallie, SLS, meridy, Shelby Parker and Megan for 
reading and praising while visiting last month.   
NOTES:  This is a sequel to Graveside Questions and 
picks up where that one left off, so you may want to 
read that one first. You can find it here: 
http://www.geocities.com/rachellee7/fanfic.html


They say that a child never forgets his mother.  Even 
if she never held him outside the womb, once he was 
brought against her breast and could hear her 
heartbeat, he would know he was where he belonged.  
Once he caught her scent in the air, he would 
recognize where he'd begun.  And once he heard her 
voice, something inside would click, and he'd call 
upon basic instincts and recognize the lilt.  I'm not 
sure who this collective "they" are, or how "they" 
became such experts on the subject, but I'm counting 
on "them" being right.


1.

When I arrived home from the cemetery, Kevin was 
waiting for me on the front steps.  He told me that 
it was as if I had dropped out of the sky and landed 
on the Van de Kamps' front lawn.  He couldn't find 
any paper trails at all.  He told me I should just 
forget it, that I should mark that day as a new 
beginning with a clean slate and go wherever my heart 
told me.

I walked inside, sat at the kitchen table and read 
through all the paperwork again.  And again.  And 
again.  It wasn't until about 4:30 that morning when 
I noticed it.  It had been written in pencil and then 
erased right above the staple on the third page.  If 
I hadn't ripped the pages apart during my initial 
shock and anger, I never would have seen it.

Monica 202-961-2389.

I looked at that number for three days, working up 
the courage to call.  All sorts of scenarios played 
out in my mind and I was certain that each in turn 
was what would happen.  I knew that if I called that 
number, I would hear an emotionless, computerized 
voice telling me the number was not in service.  I 
knew the person on the other end would tell me that 
they'd had the number for sixteen years and didn't 
know anyone named Monica.  I knew that once Monica 
answered and I told her who I was, she'd ask me never 
to call again and hang up on me.  And I knew that as 
soon as I said hello, she would know me instantly, 
say she was sorry and that she'd be right over to 
catch up on the life she gave away.  I wasn't sure 
which scene I wanted to actually play out, so I 
folded up the papers, put them in an envelope and 
tried to forget about them.

A few months later, the sky exploded.  People said it 
was the beginning of the end.  The aliens said they 
were looking for one human and that everyone else 
would be spared.  The rebels, both the alien rebels 
and the humans that stood up with them, told the 
Grays that the person they were looking for was dead.  
The Grays stayed and looked all over our planet. But 
two years later, they gave up and left.  

^^^^^^^^^^

When this journey of discovery began, I was confused 
and angry and hurt.  My life had been turned 
completely upside down and I had no way of knowing 
how to right it once again.  My center of gravity 
disappeared when I learned that I wasn't whom I had 
been brought up to believe I was.  I was left to 
flounder in the wake of truth without even a life 
vest to keep me afloat amidst the turbulence of lies 
surrounding me.  Sometimes I still feel as if I'm 
drowning.

2.

"Hello?"

"Um hi.  Could I talk to Monica?"

"Yeah, sure.  Hold on a sec while I get her."
.
.
.
"Hello?"

"Is this Monica?"

"Yes, I'm Monica."

"I, um, I found your, um, number on the paper..."

 "You found my number?"

"Yeah.  Even though you erased it, I could still read 
it and, um, I just thought that if you wrote it, it 
meant you wanted me to find it, so ummm...Crap.  I 
dunno what I'm doing.  I'm sorry I bothered you."

"No!  Wait.  Don't hang up.  Don't hang up.  Please, 
just take a deep breath and tell me who you are."

"I'm William.  I'm your son."

"Ohmygod.  William?  Ohmygod.  Okay.  We can do this.  
Where are you?"

"Ummm, I'm at home.  In, uh, Montana."

"I can't believe you found my number.  I had written 
it quickly just in case, but then erased it because I 
was afraid.  She doesn't know I did that."

"I just have to ask you something."

"I'm sure you have lots of questions, William."

"I'd like to start with just this one.  I guess your 
answer will determine the rest."

"Okay.  I'll answer it as best I can."

"Why did you give me away?"

"Oh!  Oh, no.  It's not what you think.  I'm not your 
mother, William.  I'm just a friend of Dana's.  And I 
think she should be the one to answer your questions.  
Tell me what you want to do." 
 
"What I want to do?"

"Yes.  Do you want to give me your number to give to 
her?  Or, would you rather I just give you her number 
and that way you can call her yourself?"

"My mother's name is Dana?"

I don't know why I chose to give Monica my number in 
the hopes that she would call.  Once I hung up, I 
realized my mistake.  She could choose to abandon me 
all over again.  I remember that I sat by that phone, 
willing it to ring.  Two hours later, the shrill 
noise broke the silence and I jumped.

^^^^^^^^^^

I know when I spoke to her on the phone we agreed to 
meet at noon, but I came early.  I wanted to be able 
to watch as she walked in.  I wanted to be able to 
see her before she saw me.  I wanted to know that in 
the first moment I saw her, if I felt unsure, or 
scared, or if the air suddenly shifted, that I could 
get up and walk out and she would never even know 
that I had been there.  It was all for naught.  She 
walked in, looked right at me, and began to smile and 
cry all at once.
 
3.

It is exactly twelve 'o-clock, Saturday, May 13, 
2023.  She has just walked through the door and I 
find myself frozen with dread, anticipation, fear, 
and hope.  The only thing I can relate this to is the 
birth of my daughter.  I thought for sure that I 
would be able to keep cool, but one look from her and 
I'm no longer a twenty-two-year-old trying to find my 
place in this world.  All of a sudden, I'm just a boy 
who wants to be held by his mother.  

She makes her way to the little round table in the 
corner by the window.  I want this to be somewhat 
private, but I also want to be able to look out at my 
wife and daughter sitting on the bench across the 
street.  They give me strength.  They make me brave.  
And all at once I know that this is right.  I know 
that regardless of what happens in this coffee shop, 
my life is not in the past, but right outside, 
reading "Pat the Bunny."

As she stops in front of me, I look up and see the 
tears shining in her eyes.   They're my eyes.  
They're also the eyes of my daughter.  I look behind 
her and see the man standing close, trying to protect 
her with only his presence at her back.  If I stood 
right now, I know I'd be as tall as him, and he has 
the same full bottom lip that Lisa loves to nip and 
suck once Katie is in her crib for the night.

The man steps forward and offers me his hand.  "Hi.  
Fox Mulder."

"William.  William Adams."

She had started to introduce herself, but stopped 
suddenly when I started speaking.  "Your voice is 
your father's.  She looks wide-eyed at the man beside 
her and he smiles back gently, the corners of his 
eyes crinkling, the wrinkles reaching all the way to 
the gray hair at his temples.  "Did you hear that, 
Mulder?  He sounds just like you."  She turns back to 
me.  

I look back and forth between the two of them.  My 
parents.  I'm nothing more than a combination of 
their DNA, yet this moment feels more surreal, more 
important; and I hate that.  I want this to be as 
casual as any other meeting one might have at noon on 
a Saturday.  I want this to go as smoothly as, 
say...someone giving up an infant son for adoption.

Katie is only ten weeks old, but from the moment I 
held her red and wrinkled body in my arms, I fell in 
love with her.  Nothing could ever take her from me, 
and yet, they just gave me away to complete 
strangers.  I've asked Lisa if she could ever do it.  
She looks at our daughter and tells me that someone 
would have to pry the baby from her death grip.

I watch as the two of them sit, and the air feels 
ripe with anticipation and expectation.  I made the 
first move and called Monica.  As far as I see it, 
the ball is totally in their court.  I lean back in 
my chair, cross my arms over my chest and wait.

"William," she whispers.  "I can't believe it's 
really you.  I've hoped and prayed, but never really 
believed that this day would ever come.  And, now 
that it's here, I don't quite know what to say." 
 
The tears she had been holding back break free and 
begin to course down her cheeks.  The man, my father, 
runs his hand over her head, trying to comfort her, 
but he never takes his eyes from me.  I'm still not 
sure of what I want to say, so I just wait.

"I know you must be confused, and most likely angry, 
but I want you to know that you were always loved and 
wanted.  I prayed for you for so long, and then one 
day you were here.  Only a mother long denied the 
feel of a child in her arms could know the love I 
have for you.  You look as if you're trying to make 
yourself stay - as if you're ready to fly out of here 
at any moment."

My silence is her only answer.  I'm beginning to 
think this wasn't the best idea.  The hurt and 
betrayal I'd first felt when I found the adoption 
papers comes back suddenly, and all I want to do is 
cuddle Katie close to my heart while Lisa holds me in 
her strong, sure arms.

"Please, William, just hear my story.  I'm not asking 
for you to give me anything but time.  I want you to 
know that the hardest thing I've ever done was to let 
my sweet baby go."

We sit there for three hours while the two people who 
made my existence possible tell me a story that 
rivals any I could ever find within the pages of a 
fairy tale.  When she finally sits back and wipes the 
tears from her eyes, she looks at me with an 
expression I'd know anywhere.  It's the same look 
Lisa has, as she sits and rocks Katie while she 
nurses from her breast.  It's a look that only a 
mother has for her child.  I feel a warmth I've never 
known before, for as much as the Van de Kamps loved 
me, it was not the same as this.  

"Do you understand, William?  If there had been a way 
to keep you with me and keep you safe, I would have 
done it.  Your life was all that I considered.  Not 
my happiness, not how I would survive without you in 
my arms, just that you were alive and unaware of your 
importance in this world."

"So I was the one the aliens were looking for?"

My mother looks at my father.  She drops her eyes to 
her lap and he says, "That's what we were told, 
William."

"But you said you were told that AFTER you gave me 
away.  If you loved me so much and had wanted me SO 
MUCH, why did you give me away?  You say one thing, 
but your actions tell a different story.  My whole 
life has been a lie.  I feel that I shouldn't really 
trust what you tell me now."

She recoils as if I slapped her hard across the face 
and I realize that I could not have hurt or shocked 
her more than I did with those words.  Her voice is 
small, nearly a whisper, when she finally responds.  
"I was all alone.  I was confused.  Your father had 
left and things kept ha-happening.  It was as if, 
every day, someone was there trying to take you from 
me.  I could no longer see the dangers until it was 
too late.  I felt that the only way to keep you 
alive, the only way to give you any chance at a happy 
life, was to give you up."

"But you didn't know."

A look of confusion crosses her face, prompting me to 
elaborate.

"You said you felt you could only keep me safe by 
giving me up, but there was no way for you to know 
that."

"That has been my fear and only waking thought for 
the last twenty-two years."

We all fall silent.  It's a stalemate.  They've come, 
given me their story and now it's up to me to figure 
out what I want to walk away with.

^^^^^^^^^^

How can one person be expected to make a life-
altering decision in the space of a heartbeat?  I 
have lived my whole life knowing the consequences of 
my actions and have always been prepared for those 
consequences.  I'm not sure I'm ready for whatever 
happens next. 

4.   

"Well, the Grays have come and gone and I'm still 
here - what happens now?"

It's a bold move on my part, putting the decision 
back into their hands.  But I'm curious to know what 
they think will happen.  Did they show up here 
expecting to regain the son they abandoned?  Did they 
agree to meet just to clear the air and give the 
entire escapade a sense of closure?  Do they feel 
that they've righted their wrong and can now go about 
their lives with a clear conscience and a pure heart?

He speaks first.  "That's entirely up to you, 
William.  We would love to know you.  We want to know 
all about you - from your favorite color to your 
hopes and dreams for your future."

She nods her head, but I speak up before she can say 
anything.

"I don't know."  Her face falls and tears instantly 
fill her eyes.  I hastily add, "It's just that this 
is all so much.  I only just called Monica yesterday 
and here you are.  I need to talk to Lisa.  She's my 
wife, but more than anything, she's my confessional.  
I tell her everything and she makes it all right."

"You're married."  She looks around the small cafe, 
hoping to catch a glimpse of my wife.

"Yes.  Last June.  But I've loved her forever.  She 
walked into my kindergarten class and I was 
tormenting and teasing her before nap time."

"That's beautiful, William.  I'm so happy to hear 
that you've found love.  You smile when you talk 
about her.  Did you know that?"

"No.  I wasn't aware.  It makes sense, though.  She 
makes me happy - no.  She is my happiness."

It grows quiet again, and I sense that they're 
waiting for me to continue - invite them to dinner, 
to my life.

"Look, I'd like nothing more than to tell you that I 
understand what you did and why you did it, declare 
that we all live happily ever after, and leave arm-
in-arm ready to face the world together.  I just 
don't know if I'm ready for that yet." 
 
The man across the table takes a deep breath before 
saying, "We're willing to accept whatever you're 
ready to give.  Nothing would please us more than to 
reclaim the family we lost, but we will abide by 
whatever decision you make."

"It's just that..."  I stop and look around the 
coffee shop, trying to gather my thoughts.   "It's 
just that when everything is said and done, you're 
still just strangers to me.  I don't even know what 
to call you."

They both nod slowly, but offer no solutions.

"It's like this.  The Van de Kamps were great.  They 
took care of me and I never even knew they weren't my 
folks until after they both died.  For three years, I 
was angry and confused and just didn't know what to 
think of anything.  The only thing that seemed right 
in my life was Lisa.  When I told her I wanted to 
marry her but didn't have a name to give her, she 
told me I could have hers.  That's what it's like for 
us.  One of us always seems to have what the other 
needs."

I look out the window and see Lisa sitting on the 
bench.  She had left about an hour and a half ago - 
probably to take Katie to the park - and had recently 
returned.  She was gently rocking the stroller back 
and forth with her foot while reading a book to 
herself.

"I think I do want you in my life.  I mean, I called 
an erased number on a twenty-year-old piece of paper.  
I just need some time.  I mean, I don't want us to 
walk out of here, promising to keep in touch, but not 
really meaning it; but at the same time, I don't 
think I'm ready to call you mom and dad and wrap you 
both up in a big hug like it's only been a couple of 
weeks since we last saw each other.  My life has 
calmed down over the last year.  I have found peace.  
I'm only trying to heal some wounds that still bleed 
every now and then."

They both nod.  I stand up and gather the empty 
coffee cups from the table.  I look out the window 
again and notice that Lisa has seen me prepare to 
leave.  She rises from the bench and begins to cross 
the street.

"I, um, I think I'd like to introduce you to my 
family."

Smiles blossom across their faces.  She takes a deep 
breath and lets it out slowly.  She reaches out to 
touch my arm, but stops herself and says, "We'd love 
to."

We step out into the warm, spring day and meet Lisa 
on the sidewalk.  I pull her close and kiss her on 
the cheek, then bend down and pull Katie from the 
stroller.  She gurgles happily and sucks on my nose.

I hear a slight gasp and I realize that I never 
mentioned Katie while we were in the coffee shop.  
They had only expected to meet my wife.  I tear my 
eyes from my daughter and smile.

"These are my girls.  I'd like you to meet my wife, 
Lisa, and our daughter, Katherine."

"Fox Mulder and this is Dana."  He steps forward and 
offers his hand to Lisa.  

My mother hasn't moved.  

I watch as she visibly pulls herself together.

"Would you like to hold your granddaughter?"

She nods, slightly, never taking her eyes from the 
baby.  She cradles Katie close, and brushes a soft 
kiss across the crown of her head.  Katie watches 
warily, not sure what to make of the stranger holding 
her. 

"My middle name is Katherine." 

"We call her Katie.  Katherine is a big name for a 
little girl, but we wanted to give her a name she 
could grow into."

"She's beautiful, William.  You have a lovely 
family."

I step forward to reclaim my child, and it's at that 
moment that Katie decides there is nowhere else she'd 
rather be and lays her head on her grandmother's 
shoulder.

"I know what I said in there, but, I think I'd like 
it if the two of you would come back to our place for 
a little while."

They both look up at me, surprised.  Different 
emotions play across each of their faces as my words 
sink in.

"Are you sure, William?"  There is hope in her voice.

"It's like I said.  I'm not quite sure where all of 
this is going to go, but I'm just not ready to say 
good-bye yet."

They both nod.  My father puts his arm around my 
mother as she bends her head to place another kiss 
upon my daughter's cheek.  I take the stroller from 
Lisa and start off down the street, my wife by my 
side and my parents two steps behind.  

This is my family. 

We are nowhere near completion, but the wound has 
started to heal.

END