12 12: Packing Up

My family starts arriving around ten a.m. to help us pack and load things into the truck. My adoptive mother doesn't come with my father.

"Where's Mom," I ask my father when he arrives shortly before ten.

He gets a look on his face that says he'd rather not say, "She couldn't make it."

"What exactly did she say," I ask him.

My father sighs sadly because he doesn't want to tell me.

"Tell me, Daddy, please," I insist.

My father glances at Xanthus for a moment, "She said she wouldn't help you move in with a man whose hair was longer than yours, that your relationship was 'doomed to fail', that you were too much like Luann and wouldn't know a good man if he bit you on your ass."

I tear up a bit, but I don't cry, "I see..." I pull my fingers through Xanthus ponytail. "I love his hair... I love Xanthus... I'll be ever so much more like Luann when she learns he's a chimp."

Xanthus kisses my hand, "We'll manage without her."

"Dad," I ask as a tear manages to spill over and run down my cheek, "would you think it terrible of me if I didn't call her mother anymore?"

My father touches my cheek affectionately, "No, you're perfectly justified there. Seems the older you get, the less motherly her behavior becomes. She was a very loving attentive mother when you were little. But no matter what, you'll always be the best daughter I've ever had."

I smile at him, "I'm the only daughter you've ever had."

Both of my uncles with their wives and all six of my cousins come to help us pack and load the truck. Not that my cousins Janet and Carl had to come far to help. They each have an apartment here at Richards and Richards.

"Lunch time," Xanthus calls, "Let's take a break. I'll make us all something."

"We can just order pizzas and wings," suggest Carl.

"If that's what you want, fine by me," says Xanthus. "But Eli needs to make a phone call, so we need to be quiet."

"I'll order pizzas," volunteers my father as he takes his phone from his pocket.

I grab my phone from the counter and step into the bedroom where I sit on the edge of the bed. I open the album and dial the home phone number for Luann and Tin. My leg is jumping up and down nervously... one ring... two rings...

"Hello," says a man's voice cheerfully.

"Hello, is this Tin," I ask. "I would like to speak with Tin or Luann, please."

"May I ask who's calling, please," asks the man politely, but with a hint of suspicion in his voice.

"This is Eleanor, Eleanor Anne Richards. If Tin and Luann aren't available..."

"We're available," he says excitedly, "We're available... Luann! ... It's our Eleanor! ... Eleanor, is it okay if I put you on speaker phone so we can both talk with you?"

"Yes, that would be fine," I answer tearing up.

"Is it her," I hear a woman ask who sounds very much like my adoptive mother, "Is it really her?"

"Yes, my love," says the man I am now sure is Tin, my biological father, "it's her. It's her. It's our baby."

"Hello, Eleanor," Luann greets in a tone that is fragile, afraid, pleasant, loving and excited all at the same time. I've never heard such a pleasant loving tone from the woman who raised me.

"Hello, is this Tin and Luann," I ask just to make sure.

"Yes, dearest, it's us," answers Tin sweetly.

"Hi," I say nervously, "I hope I'm not calling at a bad time."

"No, no," responds Luann, "You're timing is perfect."

"Dad said you work nights and recommended this time and... Oh, I hope I'm not being insensitive by call my adoptive father, Dad. I don't want to offend you or hurt your feelings."

"No, no," assures Tin, "We know that Dan and Laura are the only parents you know. You were only three months old when they took you home. We know you don't remember us."

"I'm sorry, I wish I did," I really do wish I could remember them, at least one little memory, but I have none.

"There's no need for you to apologize," Tin tells me understandingly.

"It's certainly nice to know that not much of Laura has rubbed off on you," comments Luann, "Laura never worried about other people's feelings."

"I don't think she's changed much," I share, "I guess that's why we're not close."

"She hasn't been cruel to you has she," ask Luann concerned.

"Not cruel," I answer, "just insensitive. She has a habit of picking at my flaws."

"How long has this been going on," ask Tin concerned.

I think for a moment, "I guess it started around the time I went through puberty or at least that's when it started to get bad. She started saying stuff like 'You don't need seconds. You'll get fat.' 'If you're still hungry, have a glass of water.' Now it's I need to lose weight and my weight is causing me to be unable to hold a man's attention. That's why they lie to me and cheat on me. They're not low down dirty dogs. It's all my fault for not being perfect. Oh... I'm sorry. You don't want to hear all that."

"Oh, yes, we do," insist Tin sounding just a little angry, "We want to know everything. Laura kept us out of the picture even though she didn't have to. I don't know how much Dan and Laura have told you..."

"My mother didn't want to tell me anything," I share, "She didn't ever want me to know I was adopted and wasn't happy I found out. The first thing I thought was you didn't want me for some reason."

"Oh, we want you," cries Tin, "From the moment we learned you were growing in Luann's womb we wanted you. And we still want you. We both love you very much."

"Dad told me," I share, "He gave my mother a chance to tell me herself and when she refused to tell me what happened, he told me. Dad and I are close. I can always count on him."

"It sounds like Dan has been a good father," comments Tin relieved.

"He is a very good father," I share, "Last night he gave me a photo album he's been saving for me. Xan and I spent a couple of hours looking through it last night."

"Xan," questions Luann curious, "Who's Xan?"

"He's my man," I answer with a smile.

"She has a man," Luann says to Tin. I can hear the smile in her voice.

"Is it a serious relationship," ask Tin.

"Yes it is," I answer Tin.

"How serious," ask Luann.

"I'm in the process of moving in with him," I share.

"He must think your family is a mess," comments Tin.

"If he's thinking anything like that, he hasn't said it. He's been nothing but loving and supportive. Besides, I would still be in the dark if he hadn't told me I was adopted. But he had thought I was just a chimp. He didn't know I was half human and I didn't know I was half chimp. I thought he had to be mistaken."

"How did he know you were adopted," ask Tin.

"From when we were in the Barstow Revolt," I answer.

"Dan told us about that," says Luann, "She was missing for three days while Dan represented the chimps and gorillas. They were afraid she was dead," and I realize she's talking to Tin.

"What happened in Barstow, dearest," Tin ask me, "How did he learn you were adopted?"

"Xanthus is the boy that saved my life when the crowd was trampling me," I explain, "Those days I was missing, I was with him and the other chimp children. They thought I was a pet. Dad had to prove I wasn't a pet or they weren't going to give me back."

"And the boy who saved you all those years ago is now your man," says Tin a bit awestruck.

"Save Eli a couple of pieces," I hear Xanthus tell everyone.

"There's still a lot to do here," I tell them as I look at the clock and see I've been talking with them for an hour. "May I call again?"

"Of course," answers Luann, "You're our baby. We want you to call."

"Is it alright if we call you," ask Tin.

"Yes, of course," I answer, "I would really like that very much. And I have something else to ask."

"Go ahead," urges Tin.

"Would it be alright if Xanthus and I came for a visit," I ask still afraid they don't want me.

"Yes, please," says Luann anxiously, "We would love it if you came for a visit."

"Dearest," says Tin sincerely, "I know we must feel like strangers right now. But we're your parents and we love and miss you and want you very, very much. This is your home as much as the one you grew up in and you and your man are always welcome in it. You come as soon as you are able, alright?"

"Alright," I answer.

"We'll talk to you again soon, dearest. We love you," Tin says sincerely.

"Thank you," I squeak out in a little girl voice.

"Love you, Eleanor," says Luann sincerely.

"Okay," I say as the tears begin to flow, "Talk to you again soon," and I end the call.

I walk out of the bedroom in tears, "Daddy? ..."

"Oh, Eleanor," says my father concerned, "What's wrong?"

I rush to him and he holds me.

"Was it a bad conversation," ask my father.

I shake my head. "Daddy, they're such wonderful people. How could she do it? They've been missing me all this time. How could she be so cold?"

My father tries to defend my mother, "I think not being able to have a baby of her own made Laura desperate, and maybe a bit temporarily insane. She just wanted a baby so badly that how she got one didn't matter just as long as she got one. And despite her lack of motherliness as you've matured, she does love you. She's just never wanted to face what she'd done because deep down she knows she stole you. She wouldn't have been able to pull it off if Tin hadn't been a slave when you were born."

"Are you alright," ask Xanthus with a tissue in his hand for me.

I smile as I accept the tissue from him, "Yes, I'm fine. I just felt a little over whelmed. They've been waiting for me to discover I'm adopted and contact them." I dry my tears and blow my nose.

"Are you hungry," ask Xanthus, "We saved you a couple of slices of pizza and some wings."

"Thank you, I am hungry," I say as I sit down to eat, "And what are you all staring at?"

"You're not a crier," answers my cousin Carl. "We're not used to seeing you cry."

"Well it's not like I've never done it before," I respond a little embarrassed. "And it stands to reason I'll do it again eventually."

"I wish you weren't moving so far away," says my cousin Janet.

"We'll visit," I remind her, "and you can come visit us too."

"I know," Janet says a bit whiney, "It just won't be the same without you around."

"What she means," says my Uncle Dave smiling, "is she's losing her prank buddy."

With so many people helping, we get the entire apartment packed up and loaded into the truck before dinner time.

"Wow," says Xanthus, "I didn't expect us to be finished in one day. I was expecting it to take a few days. Of course, I didn't know we'ld have all this excellent help. Thank you all so much."

"Yes, thank you," I say appreciatively and a little sad.

"Well," says Uncle Darren, "There isn't anything we wouldn't do for our Eli. She's the best."

"Don't forget we have plenty of room for guests," reminds Xanthus, "It's a six bedroom house."

"Technically eight," I correct Xanthus.

"But I'm using that one room as an office and that little room by ours is too small to count. It was probably originally the home office," Xanthus says to me.

I shrug, "Either way, we have plenty of room for guests."

"Speaking of guests," says my father, "Why don't you spend the night at home tonight? Have dinner with dear old dad and save him from being alone at the dinner table with his fussy wife."

"Dad, what about Harley," I ask, "She doesn't like pets."

"She can live with it for one night," insists my father, "And then she can spend tomorrow sanitizing the house and fussing at me."

"We do need a good night's sleep before we hit the road again," Xanthus reminds me.

I really don't like the idea, but I nod my agreement, "Fine, but you won't be able to go barefoot. You'll have to keep your socks on. If she sees your feet, she'll bust a gasket and we won't be spending the night."

"You'll still spend the night," insist my father. "It's my home too."

We hook the car tower back up to the moving van and load the car back on it. Gratefully, when we get to my parents' home, my adoptive mother isn't home. We check the family message board.

"Well look at that," says my dad, "She got called into the clinic to fill in for someone who's sick. We can either cook for ourselves, go out to dinner or order delivery."

"I'm fine with cooking for ourselves," says Xanthus.

"That's fine with me too. After all, we ate delivery pizza earlier," and I share, "Plus, I don't feel like being out around a bunch of strangers. Someone always gets upset and yells at a waiter or waitress."

"Well, I like cooking anyway," says my dad, "not that Laura likes it when I cook. I do my best to clean up properly and put everything away, but I always miss a spot or leave something out."

"We'll be helping you," Xanthus tells my dad, "She'll hardly notice we were there."

"This'll be fun," my dad says rubbing his hands together, "like when Eli was little."

"Did you cook together as a family a lot," ask Xanthus as we enter the kitchen.

"No," answers my father, "Laura doesn't like for anyone else to be in the kitchen while she's cooking. When Eli was a baby, Laura would bring the portable crib in so Eli wasn't out of sight. When Eli was a little older, she would have her at the kitchen table with picture books and coloring books. But when Eli got to where she wasn't content to sit still at the kitchen table and started asking to help, Laura started shooing her out of the kitchen."

"Why didn't she just give her little tasks to do," ask Xanthus, "children like to help out in the kitchen."

"I asked her about it," shares my dad, "She said because she would make a mess and get dirty."

"Kids are supposed to make messes and get dirty," says Xanthus with a smile, "That's why they're washable. Not machine washable, hand wash only, but still washable."

My dad laughs and I chuckle too. "That's so true," says my dad, "but to Laura, a clean child means a good mother. She hated for Eli to get dirty."

"Good thing I enjoy bathes," I comment, "sometimes I got two or three a day."

"So, how was Eli supposed to learn to cook if she wouldn't let her come in the kitchen and help," ask Xanthus.

"Well, when it was just me and Eli," answers my father, "she helped me."

"And I can bake cookies, muffins and cupcakes," I add cheerfully. "Plus, I'm an expert at microwave TV dinners."

Dad, Xan and I had fun cooking together, and had a pleasant conversation as we ate together at the kitchen table. It's funny how dinner conversations are so relaxed when my mother isn't present. I'm still torn as to whether I should still call her mom or not. Xanthus and I go to bed at nine so we can get up at five a.m. and hit the road bright and early.

As we're sleeping in the guestroom, Xanthus is spooning me with his arm around my waist and his face buried in my hair and the back of my neck. I feel a presence in the room, a familiar presence. But I don't wake up until someone gently touches my hair.

I open my eyes, "Mom?"

"I'm sorry, honey," she whispers, "I didn't mean to wake you."

"Is something wrong," I ask. "I cleaned the kitchen. Is something out of place?"

"No," she answers in a soft whisper, "I could tell you had cleaned the kitchen because it was done right. Your father always leaves things out or puts them in the wrong place. I just wanted to look in on you. You always look like an angel when you're sleeping... Well, I'll let you go back to sleep. Good night, honey."

"Good night, Mom."

As she leaves the guestroom, I hear her mutter, "I'll yell at your father tomorrow about allowing that dog inside my house."

Xanthus' arm tightens around my waist for a moment as he says softly in his sleep, "I love you, Eli."

I whisper back to him, "I love you too, Xan."