"You want some juice?" my fucking head is killing me. Leave it to Stevie to pick me up when I'm mid hang over and jonsing for fried eggs, French fries, a hamburger, and a coke. The greasy spoon we're sitting, luckily for my aching body, has all of those things on the same bun. Guacamole on the side, and a shot of tequila. Hangover cure. "Naw, I'm good. You gonna finish those pancakes?" Watching as I gorge myself Stevie pushes her breakfast platter toward me. She finished her fruit and her two eggs, begging off on the pancakes due to her diet.
"Lindsey, before you choke to death at the trough will you tell me what happened last night. Skip the drunk argument I assume you had with your better half" Better than which half? Sucking juice and burger grease off my hands I sit back "I-I'm pretty sure I met Hunter Steph. At least he looked like Hunter" could have been my eyes just playing tricks on me, but everything about him was too familiar to be coincidence. And the name. Hunter Beck. That's the name he was given by his first family. He's the right age give or take a few years, but he may have fudged that to keep me from knowing too much about his personal life.
"I think you're still drunk, it couldn't be him Linds. He's-the odds are just astronomical" that just may be the case, but I can't shake the feeling. It's him. It was our son "How would we know? He's grown up now, he has his own life. He may not even know he's adopted, he may have forgotten the nightmare we saved him from" the conditions of his first home where appalling, and his adoptive parents were violent neglectful drug addicts. I'd repress that shit too.
"All you have to go on is a gut feeling and a drunk identification. California is a big state Lindsey, there are bound to be hundreds of thousands of Hunter Becks'" with those same facial features, the same walk that Greg used to have. Stevie's nose mouth and hair color, my eyes and build. in the same city we put him up for adoption in? No, fuck coincidence and fuck astronomical odds. That was my son. That was Hunter. "I'm telling you it was him" my mouth is full of food so I'm not sure any of that is intelligible but Stevie seems to get my point.
Going quiet on me she looks down the street at one of our old favorite haunts from the seventies. It's closed now, but back then it was a pretty laid back tea house owned by a hippie named Elsbeth. She imported her teas from Taiwan, and India and her boyfriend played Sitar in the lobby, Stevie loved it there and I could easily cure my hang overs with their Oolong infusion. That was before I was an alcoholic, "Steph?" smiling my companion plays with her flowing sleeves "Do you remember when we found out Linds? About him?"
How could I forget, we didn't know what to do. What to think. I just remember both of us being ecstatic to be parents...
November 1973
"Linds! Lindsey come in here!" my weary body lifts from the couch at Stevie's command. I've been on tour with the Everly's for a month and I'm exhausted. I just wanted to come home and vegetate for a few hours, then head into my studio to medicate with a little herb and whiskey. After her shift at the diner Stevie brought me a cheeseburger and some headache tablets for my hang over, I think my drinking is a serious problem. I think I'm too young to be considered an alcoholic.
"Babe I can't move, come in here" the square footage of our apartment in San Francisco isn't much, but it's just enough for Stevie to sail an empty box from the bathroom to our couch. It bounces off my forehead and I jump up startled "Damnit! Fine, what?!" stomping into the bathroom I find my live in girlfriend sitting with her back to the tub "Did you look at the box?" her face is red and tear stained, my anger simmers but ebbs at her fragile mood "What about it Angel?".
Stevie blushes slightly at her nickname and I sit next to her on the floor leaning on her shoulder, with an exaggerated sigh I look at the box she just air assaulted me with...shit. Acucheck: The Home Pregnancy Test you can trust!!
