Accidentally Tasha

Chapter 2

Quote

I must write it all out, at any cost. Writing is thinking. It is more than living, for it is being conscious of living. (Anne Morrow Lindbergh)

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'The sound of someone's loud sniffing wakes me up. I must have fallen asleep thinking about all the ways they are going to find out that I'm a phony. As soon as I open my eyes, the woman who'd been crying rushes to my side and hugs me.

"Oh, Tasha! They thought you were dead but I didn't want to believe it."

This is the first test to my acting skills. I try to inject sorrow in my eyes but I soon find out that that is not important. She continues speaking.

"The doctors think you have amnesia..."

Of course! Amnesia! The answer to all my troubles. Someone up there must be looking out for me. The condition must explain why I walked off never to come back. Why I don't even know who I am, who these people are.

"... I'm your mother. Rachel Gardner. Do you remember me?"

I look at her with a blank expression and she bursts into a fresh bout of tears. I reach for a tissue on the bedside table and hand it to her. She smiles at me kindly then suddenly stands up as if she's just remembered something. She walks out of the door and comes back in a few moments later followed by a tall guy who I assume to be her husband- my dad. He does not have the same relieved expression as his wife, and instead seems apprehensive. It is as though he does not truly believe that I am his daughter. That makes me nervous. If anyone is to find out that I'm lying, it's him.

As he approaches me, I notice the similarity between his features and Natasha's. She must have gotten the hazel eyes and high cheekbones from him. His hair too is a fine brown like Natasha's, although his seems to be graying at the temples. He is one good looking man. I can only imagine what a piece of eye candy he was in his youth.

"Hello," he says.

I let out a weak croaked 'hello' in return. I make my voice croaked on purpose so that he does not ask me so many questions.

"You must not remember me. I'm Paul Gardner, your dad."

After that there is an awkward silence, which Rachel- mom, I mean - fills by asking if I'd like to see some of the family photos. I let out an eager 'yes' in response. Excited, mom takes out an old leather briefcase which had stayed hidden from my view. The Gardners must love taking photos because the briefcase is full of them. Some are in photo albums, others in scrap books but most of them are free.

"I'm a photographer," she explains.

"And I have a really beautiful family. Taking their photos is a weakness." She adds with a wink.

I can't help but laugh. My laughter is a little gruff and to be honest, awkward, but it adds to Rachel's excitement and even Paul who seems apprehensive of me, seems pleased. They look at each other as if to communicate telepathically. I can see the unspoken love that radiates from the two. I turn my eyes away, feeling like an intruder to an intimate moment.

Mom takes the first photo album and opens it. She points to a naked chubby baby with few hairs on the head and unopened eyes.

"That's you. On the day you were born."

The caption at the back of the photo reads July 10th 2000. Natasha is only two months younger than me.

She points at another photo where a little girl, about seven years old, with strawberry blond hair and two missing front teeth is standing next to mom. On the other side of mom is a boy of about four with curly brown hair and eyes full of mischief.

"That's Olivia and Jake." Dad says.

I look closer at the photo to study Olivia. She had a striking face even at that age. She was not particularly beautiful, but something about her made her face unforgettable.

"She looks so determined," I remark.

They both smile proudly and dad answers, "She is. Right now she is taking a masters course in human rights law."

"What about Jake?" I ask.

Their smiles falter before mom answers, "He's in a band."

Their crestfallen faces are almost comical. He must be a disappointment to them. I decide to put them out of their misery and point at a photo of the front of the house.

"Is that our house?" I ask.

"Yeah" mom answers. "And that right there –she points at a little black dog which I might not have noticed- is Prince. He died last year."

I make an appropriate noise to express my sympathy. Before I can say anything else, there is a knock at the door and Mary –the young nurse from yesterday- enters. She smiles apologetically as she says,

"I'm sorry, visiting hours are over."

"Of course," mom says.

After Mary is out, mom looks at me. There are so many unspoken words in her intense look. I smile at her and hug her. She hugs me back. I feel the coolness of her tears on my neck as they drop, one by one until I'm crying too.

"I love you Tasha," she whispers to me.

She lets go and dries off her tears. All the time, dad is looking at us with a look I cannot comprehend. Mom then asks if I want to look at the pictures on my own. I nod. She picks up her handbag and Paul follows her out of the room. She lingers behind and says,

"Goodnight Tasha."

"Goodnight." I smile back.

She must notice that I've evaded calling her mom. Hurt flashes in her eyes but she continues smiling. I watch her close the door to my room and listen as the clink- clonk of her heels fade through the hallway. I release the nervous breath I've been holding. This is a nightmare- only that I've created it myself. I could walk away while I still have time, but part of me wants to be part of the Gardner family. I know I can't lie to them forever, but ...

I look at the stack of photos and will myself to study them.