I glance back at the picture, and I can see the hate my mother put so much to cross an X over her father's face. It must have broken her heart once he told her she was nothing.
I always felt that while I was in the Order. I was nothing but a pawn, an item to be used however they pleased. They didn't treat me as a person.
I took one small picture and stuck it inside the back pocket of my jeans, then put the rest back inside the folder. I handed it back to Dr. Swanson.
"What about the birth certificate I found?" I pull out the paper from my pocket and hand it to him.
The older man unfolded it, made a glance, and handed it back. "I had it classified in the system before I erased it to give you an authentic document."
I fold the paper back into my pocket and sigh.
"How did she find out her lover is also her father?" I ask as he takes the Manila folder back.
"She already knew."
My brows furrow at his response. "She knew?"
Dr. Swanson nodded.
"Then...my mother fell in love with him and already knew that man was her father?"
"It wasn't that simple," he states.
"Enlighten me."
"As I said, Majorie wanted a father in her life," he placed the folder back in the pocket of his chair. "She had asked me to help look for him. Like a good brother, I searched for him, and when I did, she immediately decided to see him in New York and applied to the university there."
The doc gripped his cane and let out a halt. "Majorie didn't stay with him but lived in the dorms. She never told her father who she was and was happy, but her feelings changed when Majorie didn't see him as her father but a man."
He got up from his chair and walked towards a dresser behind me. I turn and see in his hands are handwritten letters.
"From the beginning, Majorie wrote how happy she was meeting her father." I took the stacks of letters and looked at each one from the day she started college. "Then, in the seventh letter, she told me she fell in love with a man. A man who is older than her. She describes how much the man showers her with love and devotion. It made Majorie want to marry the man once she graduates, but after the fourteen letters, she had to stop writing and showed up at the hospital with a swollen belly."
I read the intimate details of my mother's sweet words about my father. It started with how much fun and happy she was to meet her father. They spend time together as a professor and student and help her in any way. Then, the sixth letter tells how she has mixed feelings about him. One sentence described her heart beating fast whenever he is near her or her skin is tempted to touch herself while thinking of him. The following letter confessed her love for her father. My mother wanted to be his wife and saw him as a man, not a father. She wanted to spend the rest of her life with him and have his child grow old with her. The love continues until the fourteen letters.
My eyes repeatedly reread each detail of what my mother wrote. She loves him. This forbidden love is rare in the relationship between two people. My mother grew up without a father, and meeting him would help build that father-daughter bond, but it wasn't expected when they fell in love as a man and woman.
I lick my lips and hand back the letters, not wanting to read them anymore as they already linger in my brain.
"Keep them," he pushes them towards me. "I don't want to look at them anymore."
"Why do you have them?"
"They will be in good use once Majorie sees that life continues. My sister won't listen to me. If she sees you, maybe she will understand. She needs to move on."
I can't guarantee because Majorie doesn't know I'm alive, but maybe I can hear her side of the story when I see her. I can ask why she didn't want me. Why hurt herself rather than hurt others? There are a lot of unanswered questions, and I plan to solve them.
I place the letters inside my jacket.
"Although their relationship is taboo, it doesn't give her the right to kill me," I tell him, the anger building inside. "She wanted to be with him."
"Majorie told me that her father later found out who she was. I think that is where the relationship ended."
"She tried to kill an innocent child because the man she loves doesn't love her back?" I scoff and rub my face in irritation. "How the hell did he find out? And he's her father? You fell in love with a young woman and discovered she's your daughter?"
I huff as I let out the irrigation. "Fucked up world we lived in. Well, the apple doesn't fall far from the tree."
"You tried to kill a child?" The shock in his voice.
"For me, I had a reason. I did it to protect my baby," I clarified with an argument. "I didn't want my daughter to end up in the hands of a masochist pervert. But my mother wanted me dead because her lover didn't love her anymore. She should win the Mother of the Year!"
I slam my hands on the head of the couch and grip it tight, feeling the leather fabric.
Keep your anger intact, Terry. Breathe.
"And you," I turn to the old man, who cringes at my booming voice. "I don't expect my mother to love me, but you cared for me. I was an innocent infant whose mother never wanted me. Instead of protecting me, you dumped me as if the responsibility you are a part of should be someone else's problem."
"Terry...it was hard to make a choice," The old man claims as his words stammer. "My sister...she needed help. I'm the only family she has, and seeing her in that state breaks my heart. I promised my mother I would take care of her. Placing you at the orphanage was hard for me. We wanted to keep you, but my sister will kill you if my wife or I are not around and...I can't have that. So, I had admitted Majorie into an asylum for insanity and had you put at the orphanage to be adopted by a better family. Terry, you got to understand my wife and I are trying to build a family. I can't put this matter and pressure her. I'm sorry."
Hearing him say the family had me on edge. Not only did my birth mother not want me and tried to kill me, but this man...the only relative who at least cared for me, my uncle, abandoned me as well for the sake of his family.
"You could have called the police," I stated and kept myself calm.
"I couldn't. She's my sister, and she needed help. I can't place her behind bars for something she couldn't control over. That is why I place her in a mental hospital."
This older man is ridiculous.
I let out a low growl.
My blood is boiling to the point I want to hit him. Even if we share the same blood, I should, but he's more heartless than my mother. This man is a stranger, so I shouldn't feel sympathetic.
"You can hate me all you want for protecting my family. I didn't regret my decision."
I exhale through my nose as they flare. I glare at the older man. I step forward, itching to hit him. He stands his ground as I clench my fists, my attention to the object behind him. It's a family photo of him a few years younger with his wife and son.
They are smiling happily.
The pictures are all lined up on top of the shelf. My eyes traveled as I studied the photos. Each image told a different chapter in their life without any issues until I caught something that froze me in place, and my mind became disoriented. I walk past the doctor and grab the picture.
My hands shake, my body trembles, and my heart beats fast, reaching the point of going and becoming lethargic.
"Who's this girl?" I ask the doctor, swallowing the lump in my throat.
I hear Dr. Swanson behind the move. "Her?" He questions his word. "That's Majorie. That is your mother when she was sixteen."
"My...mother...?" My breath is shaky, and my mind is going wild. "This is Majorie."
It's a large photo display in a nice golf picture frame. The girl in the picture had dark hair neatly brushed with curls at the end. She wore a 1970s purple groovy dress, looking like Daphne from Scooby-Doo. There is a blue background. She has her arms crossed over a block of blue velvet cloth and poses in place as her eyes bring out the green hue. Was she smiling beautifully at the camera with such grace and...happy?
But tell me why she looks a lot like Eva.
This can't be true.
It's not a coincidence that Majorie looks like Eva if she was sixteen. But the face, no matter how young the girl in the photo looks, all I see is Eva.
Her face is uncanny, and now I know the truth about Eva, my parents, and the whole misconception about my life.
"May I have this picture?" My eyes were glued to the photo.
"You may. Having that picture will bring you closer to her."
I smirk and let out a scoff. "Oh yeah, I feel much closer to her than ever."
"Terry, if you like. You can visit your mother at Shellman Mental Health Hospital in Newport Beach. That is where she is residing."
I turn my head and flash a wry grin. I drop my hand with the photo in writing by my side. "I will visit her and hope to tell her I'm doing fine and don't need her in my life."
I pivot my feet and turn towards the door.
"Be gentle with her, Terry." Dr. Swanson stopped me at the entryway. "She's been through a lot."
I clench my fist and jaw as I close my eyes to inhale the night cold air in my lungs.
"Don't worry."
"Oh, and Terry. I gave you the name Theresa, meaning huntress in Greek."
I softly groan and inwardly roll my eyes.
"Where does Young come from?"
"Your father."
"But Berger...?" I question.
"That was our mother's maiden name." The older man explains. Your mother didn't want anyone in the hospital to know who she was, so she gave birth here at home."
"That explains why her records don't exist," I mutter.
I know it's scary for a young mother to give birth in the hospital, so they tend to do it secretly.
"I know I wasn't great and didn't protect you enough from her. You are my niece, and I care about you. If you are in any need of help, don't hesitate to."
"I appreciate your offer, but I have to decline," I cut him off and turned around to face the old man as I threw out my emotions.
"I understand your anger towards your mother and me, but what else can I do." It's as if I'm attacking him verbally by blaming him for my childhood life.
"No, don't you dare be pitiful because you have a family to consider?" I snarl at him. "Because of you, my childhood was taken away."
"Terry, I-"
I hold up my hand to cut him off again. "I got to be honest with you; I wanted to hit you. I would have, but that won't make things better for me. That would make me a bigger bitch than that sister of yours." I exclaim, trying to maintain my anger.
"I'm glad you left me because, throughout my childhood, I lived through hell. The orphanage was okay; the nuns were nice and cared for me. but living in foster care was worst, but you know what's even worse than foster care?" I asked him, and he didn't answer.
"Being adopted by a bitch who ruined my childhood life. I had lost all hope and thought about dying. But I was lucky enough to meet Odin. He took me in after that bitch almost killed me. Although we don't share the same blood, Odin was willing to raise me as his own. Can't you believe that? Someone who isn't blood took me in and gave me more love than I ever wanted from a parent. After all, both of my parents didn't want me from the start, and even my uncle wanted to discard me." He opens his mouth to say something, but I stop him.
"Don't act pitiful right now," I tell him. "Thank you for discarding me because I wouldn't have met Odin if you didn't. Now look at me; I have a great job, great friends, am living well with my daughter, who I love so much and will do the same thing as my mother, and have found the man I can spend the rest of my life with. I won't lose my sanity with love as my mother did. She doesn't deserve my forgiveness or love because she has already lost everything. So, thank you again, uncle, for saving me. I do. I wouldn't be here if you didn't listen to Majorie's words. I hope you and I will never cross paths again as I leave this past behind."
With those words left my mouth, I walked out and got on my bike. I put on my helmet and started the engine; with a flick of my wrist, making my bike roar, I stormed the neighborhood and raced back to the agency.
I park my bike inside the agency's garage. I ran to the elevator and tapped the button to reach the lower floor. My eyes watched the number decrease, and I stopped at my destination. I walk out and head to the gym.
I harshly open my locker inside my office, remove my jacket roughly, and put on the fighting gloves. As I walk outside my office, I touch another button on the wall as it brings down the sandbag. I was moving my head around and doing warmups. With the remote control, I blast hardcore music to keep the flow of the anger that I had held inside since my visit with Dr. Swanson. I clasp my knuckles for another pump up and hit the sandbag hard with one fist swing. I continually hit the sandbag with rage. I hit it like the person I'm hitting is here, taking my fist. I yell and scream. I can feel my muscles tightening, and my body is heating.
I'm hitting the sandbag with so much strength that it makes my hands ache. I lash it out on the bag because of my fucking mother, my fucking father, my fucking uncle, the fucking Order, and at my fucking self.
With the last hit, my fist punctured a hole through the sandbag as sand leaked. I place my forehead on the bag, panting hard through my mouth as my body tenses up from sweating and heat. My heart is racing fast from all the anger and adrenaline built up.
My legs became numb as I dropped to the ground, raised my knees, and burst into tears. I angrily removed the gloves from my hands and threw them across the room. I dropped my head between my legs, blowing out hot, angry air. Rubbing my face and scratching my hair roughly, I loudly growl.
I know my life was messed up, but I didn't realize how fucked up it was.
Going to see Dr. Swanson, I expected an answer I wanted to hear, but knowing that my mother and Eva are two of the same person.
I don't understand.
None of this makes sense.
I grew up in the orphanage only to be adopted by Eva and lived a horrible year in the Order.
Does Eva know I'm even her daughter?
If she knew what her reaction would be. But during my time at the Order, she doesn't show affection for me. Eva doesn't recognize me after all; she never held me. She tried to kill me, but I think her brain had been fried.
I turned off the music and stayed still on the floor, breathing and calming myself.
My phone rang as it echoed in the room. I reach over without moving an inch and answer the call without looking at the caller ID.
"Hello?"
"Hey Terry, what time are you...hey, are you okay?"
I blink my eyes and wipe the tears and snot from my nose. "Yeah, yeah, I'm okay. Just working out. What's up?"
"At this hour?" I made a shrug, but Effie didn't question further about my late-night activities. "We have another BBQ next week, but we are adding a pool party. So a BBQ Pool Party." Says Effie on the other end of the phone call. "Will you be available?"
"Uh..."
"Grandpa said you are busy during this time because of the mission of catching Eva, but a day for relaxation wouldn't hurt."
I ran my fingers through my wet hair from the sweat and sighed. "Poppy can attend, but I'm unsure if I can go since I've got many things to do."
"Oh..." I can hear the disappointment in her tone through the phone. "Hey, no worries. I understand. You can't leave a big mission like taking down the biggest cult in the world. Whenever you are free, you can join anytime. No pressure."
"Effie, I don't mean to make a lame excuse, but I have many things to handle." I sigh. "Many things are going on, and my mind is all mixed up with all types of shit," I chuckle, hoping that will lighten up the conversation.
"Hey, I get it. Being a hitman is a pretty rough and dangerous job." She giggles. "I only called you because you are never left out now that you and Seth are together."
I scoff and chuckle.
"Anyways, try and come. Get your mind and body to relax and have fun with your family. I already got Grandpa's permission, and he agreed to take your mind off things. So please come, okay?"
"Yeah, I'll try."
"Awesome! See you soon!" The phone call ended as I dropped my phone and myself on the floor while looking up at the ceiling