Adaption

Following the Breadcrumb Trail

 Louis pulled in at what seemed to be the correct address. Cloisters Way. He paused momentarily to allow time to take things in. He took a deep breath and upon finding that his hands were steady and not slick with sweat he opened the car door before he decided to change his mind. The house was a tiny cottage with sunshine yellow shutters and window boxes filled with delicate fuchsia  pink roses. The walls were white washed and adorned with honeysuckle

He stood up and stretched his legs before proceeding up the garden path. He rang the doorbell and waited, finding himself whistling a tune. Out of the corner of his eye he noticed how the gap between the curtains in the hallway twitched. He was being watched. Then the door was opened a crack, revealing a weary blue eye, which looked him up and down. 'Can I help you sir?'

'I hope so ma'am he answered, suddenly realising how odd this situation must seem to her. Her he was, a strapping young lad arriving at her door unannounced, hands in his pockets. The obvious presumption would be that this was the prelude to a home invasion.

'I was wondering do you know Madison Robins?' He spoke with no hesitation. He wanted her to know this was not just an opportunistic visit. He knew who it was he wanted to see.

" It could be I do, but that depends. Who's asking for her?" He now also was aware of what this woman to her, thanks to her guarded response. She was her mother, so that made him her grandson.

"An acquaintance of hers. Dr Wilson.' That seemed to do the trick .The uncertainty melted away from her eyes and they became bright and friendly. She ushered him inside. Thank goodness I decided to enter into such a versatile profession. Everybody knows a doctor. He specifically neglected to mention for what reason he held a doctorate. Not that he did- yet. He would someday though. Or would he? Was medicine just something his adopted parents had pushed him into? For all he knew his mother could hold a PhD. in arts or something. Maybe that was the career for him. For now though, it was best to let his maternal grandmother think they were friends, who met through work.

When the two of them were settled at the table, mugs of tea in hand, freshly made lemon tray-bake well within reach, the conversation from earlier was continued. "So you know Madison?"

"Yes, she and I met a couple of years back. She came to mind a while ago and since I was in the area I thought I would look her up. It was a long time ago though. She probably doesn't even remember me."

'Yes,' she agreed thoughtfully 'It must have been if this was the last address you have for her. She hasn't lived here in quite a while, years in fact. Not since...' The elderly women trailed off, obviously reliving memories of the last time both her and her daughter had called the cottage home.

This sparked Louis' interest. Why had she left? Maybe it had something to do with why he was here... However he forced himself not to press her. It wouldn't do to give the game away so early. Realising she had allowed a lull in the conversation; she added "I'd be more than happy to supply you with her current address of course."

Louis beamed and assured her that he would be much obliged if she were to do so. She rose, and went over to the dresser. Taking up a pen she scribbled the details on a piece of paper. As she did so they continued their chat 'So, whereabouts is she living now?" he wondered.

"In Saint Louis Missouri."

At the precise moment Louis had chosen to take a sip of tea. The shock of what she was saying made it difficult to swallow. Louisiana. St. Louis. What were the chances? It struck him that perhaps his was all part of an elaborate treasure-hunt for him, this just another clue. But he brushed it off. That didn't make much sense. For one thing the woman sitting in front of him-supposedly his grandmother- hadn't appeared to have been expecting him. Nor did she seem to have any inclination of his true identity. The result was that he dribbled tea all down the front of his freshly pressed shirt. Upon seeing that he was in distress, Nancy rushed over. She carefully dabbed at his shirt with a damp cloth. She was a sprightly, independent woman, or so it seemed. Louis had deduced that she lived alone. However, this combined with her age did not deter her in the slightest from being house proud. Once it had been determined he was going to live, he apologised profusely for any disturbance. The hot tea had spilt all over the pristine white table cloth, but his hostess didn't seem to mind in the slightest as long as he was alright.

An an attempt to get more information out of her he tried to keep the conversation going. 'Saint Louis-how interesting.'

"Is it?" Her brows were arched in a questioning way, as she turned to survey him.

"Oh I just meant that it's a lovely part of the country or so I've been told. It's just funny that you should mention it. It just so happens that I'm heading over on business in the next few days. I'll call in to see her then. I'd appreciate it if you didn't mention my coming to her... I want to surprise her after all these years."

She readily agreed, brushing off any skepticism from earlier. Not willing to push his luck too far, Louis decided now would be an appropriate time to take his leave. The last thing he wanted was to outstay his welcome. Nancy seemed taken aback to hear he was leaving so soon. It occurred to him that maybe she didn't get that many visitors. Her daughter lived ar away after all and she hadn't mentioned a son. She insisted that he take some more lemon tray bake for the road. He took her up on her offer, it was delicious. With a pang, he realised he missed his mother's cooking. Shyly, he found himself asking for the recipe.

"You like the taste of home cooking then? Do you bake yourself?"

"I dabble a bit yeah. When I tasted your food, somebody sprung to mind. Someone who'd love to try it."

'Your wife?' Did he seem that mature? To think in the run up to his leaving Kerry had teased that he looked no different to the guys in her year at school.

"Not exactly..." He was bashful, his cheeks turning a shade of crimson.

As soon as she mentioned the word 'wife' Louis had subconsciously started ringing his hands. In hindsight it was an immature thing to do.

Nancy noticed and exclaimed upon the noticeable absence of a wedding ring "Gosh, sorry girlfriend?" He went along with it. Whose Mom wouldn't like to be mistaken for their son's girlfriend? From an appearance point of view anyway. If only she knew...

She handed him the recipe. "Well, you go home and cook it for her now and not the other way around. That's what you have to do for the woman you love."

He thanked her and left. He wasn't going home just yet. Or maybe he was? The thought that he was finally going to get to meet his birth mother after all these years comforted him. He blocked out all thoughts of his most recent dealings with his adopted parents and focused on the present. As he waved goodbye to Nancy, he hoped that one day he could return as he grandson. When that time came he had every faith that she would forgive him for the white lies he had told her. Why not place trust in this new family? After all, those white lies seemed like nothing absolutely nothing compared to being deceived for all of your life by the woman who you thought was your mother. The woman you loved.