Burbank Airport, November 1994

 

Vicky: Heart pounding madness, will she like me? I covered uneven and missing parts of my cleft lip with pencil, then applied color ½ shade darker. Smiling to check symmetry, I drew my index finger slowly out of my mouth, Mom’s trick to keep lipstick off front teeth. 

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An old habit, hiding my scars. After thousands of dollars for therapy and surgery it pissed me off when a weird look on the subway made me feel ugly - and I’d hide my upper lip behind my hand. 

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Ah well, that’s life with a birth defect. 

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Driving to the airport to meet the woman who threw me away, the trees blurred a green frame around my reflection - a funhouse mirror. What if she doesn’t come?

 

Barbara: Excitement danced around my chest, my stomach. I’ll meet Vicky at last. A new feeling stirred within, a Mama Bear who would do anything for her child. Remembering how my mother was jealous of me, I dressed more conservatively than usual, vowing never to compete with my daughter. 

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My heart, so full of love, soared beyond the moving plane.

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An hour later, when the engine’s pitch signaled our descent I had a plan. The landing gear bumped a touchdown, and the engines reversed. Tension coiled within me as I held my breath, clutching my bag, my seat belt. 

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Ding! I sprang from the seat, first in line for the back stairway.

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On the tarmac, then moving through the airport crowd I was a heat-seeking missile, impatient to find Vicky. We’re meeting at Baggage Claim. Where is it?  

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Funneling through hallways, following exit signs, I burst on the sunlit sidewalk. She’s going to think I didn’t come. She’ll leave. Spinning, searching, I scanned the waiting people with hawk-like intensity, my eyes rising to a sign at the far end of the building.

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Baggage Claim. There it was, above the north entrance. Taking a deep breath, I raced to hold my baby for the first time.

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To be published in 2022. Contact us to read the rest of the story.