The big man carried me out to a long black car that was outside the orphanage.
Miss Chonivich was at the doorway of the building, waving goodbye. I was never going to see her again.
The big man opened the car door and stepped in. He placed me on one of the long leather seats, and buckled me in.
This isn't where I wanted to be! I started to scream to let him know that. He merely mumbled something about stupid publicity and sat down beside me, and put headphones on.
No matter how much I screamed, he didn't pay any attention to me.
He couldn't be my dad. This wasn't right!
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After a half an hour drive, and a three hour plane trip, my voice began to get sore. I had cried the whole time, and the big man merely grumbled at me. The people on the plane paid more attention to me than he did.
Eventually, after another ride in a long, black, car, and me whimpering because my voice was to tired, the car finally stopped.
The big man got up and unbuckled me. He said some more choice words that I will not mention. Then he carried my car seat out of the car.
A big house was in front of us. It was white and had many windows. I stopped making any noise at all because of awe at the house.
"Finally," the big man mumbled.
I was going to start crying again, but then a kind looking lady came up to him.
She was short and kinda fat. Her short blonde curls bounced as she ran up to us.
"Oh, look at you!" she gasped when she saw me, "You are beautiful!"
She unbuckled the straps to the car seat and lifted me up.
Her hands were firm yet gentle. I liked her.
"Oh, she is lovely," she told the big guy as she examined my small face.
"Yeah," he snickered, "Try saying that after two car rides and a three hour plane trip with her screaming the whole time."
"Oh, nonsense!" the fat lady said, "You just didn't make her comfortable."
As she said that, I remembered that I hadn't been fed or changed in four hours. So, I did the only thing I could. I screamed.
"Sshhh," she comforted me, "You probably are hungry and need a diaper change. Lets get you inside."
I really liked this lady. She could understand me.
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After a relief-filled diaper change, I greedily sucked the bottle that I held to my mouth.
A tall, thin, man, who's name was George, was holding me as the fat lady, who's name was Jackie, trotted around the kitchen cooking.
"She's a sweet one isn't she?" George asked Jackie.
"Oh, yes!" Jackie cooed as she threw some tomatoes in a pot, "She's lovely!"
I liked these people, there were nice. Maybe the big man wasn't my father, maybe George was. But I didn't think so. Then who was?
Suddenly a loud banging sound startled me and made me drop the bottle.
"He's here," Jackie whispered as if she said it to loud she would be in trouble.
George nodded and was gazing out into the hallway. He didn't even notice that I had dropped my bottle and that milk was down my chin and bib.
And, you guessed it! I cried.
"Oh, dear!" George said startled.
"What the #%** is making that noise!" someone yelled.
I couldn't see well through my tears, but I heard that loud and clear. It was a man's voice, and it didn't sound happy.
George quickly bent down and picked up my bottle and placed it in my grasp. Then he breathed a sigh of relief as soon as I happily accepted the bottle.
"What's all the noise!" that same voice yelled again.
This time I could see who said that. It was a man with blue eyes and blonde hair. His face was full of anger and aggravation.
Then he saw me and a new emotion came over his face. Confusion.
"What's all this about?" he demanded.
"It's the orphan, from Ukraine," Jackie told him quietly.
"Why is it here?"
"You adopted it."
He let out a nervous laugh and said, "No, that's not my, child. I didn't ask for this!"
"It's either this or rehab," Jackie said, "Or a lot of bad publicity."
"No!" he burst out, causing me to drop my bottle again.
"This is not mine!" he yelled pointing at me, causing me to cry for the millionth time that day.
"Make that thing shut up!" he yelled at George and then stormed out of the kitchen.
This is not right. This is not my house. And he is not my dad.
YOU ARE READING
Baby Business
ФанфикThis is the story of how I was adopted. Weird, but true, I remember every moment of it. Even though I was only six months old. Now, I know that sounds really cheesy, that I would remember that, but I have what they call, photographic memory. It's n...
