Why Can't I Be Loved

"Carter, the internet completely revolutionized the global economy. Brick and mortar shopping is quickly becoming a thing of the past. Take the shoe store next door, for instance. After being in business for almost thirty years, they're going belly up."

That was news to me. "They are? Shit, I just bought a pair of shoes there last week."

"Well, you may have been their last customer. They go into liquidation at the end of the month. My bank is holding paper on their business loan. The country is becoming a service-oriented economy. This restaurant, for instance, you can't go to the internet, sit down, and have a cup of coffee; the shoe-shine stand is another example. Find yourself a service-based business that satisfies the needs of a lot of people. Hell, open your own restaurant. You seem to have this one running well."

Of course, I would never do that; I could never go into competition with Stan, but our conversation did give me an idea. I did some scouting around our neighborhood and well as the surrounding area. What I saw was encouraging. I talked with several people, an architect, my banker, a lawyer, and a few others. When I felt confident, I took my idea to Stan.

I was afraid he'd shut me down immediately, but he sat and listened to my plan. He took my concepts and talked with his own people. I was getting nervous when I hadn't heard from him for a while, because if we were going ahead, we had to act quickly. He finally called a meeting which included his baker and accountant.

"Carter, this is a big gamble. You realize I could lose it all, everything I worked for."

"I know, Stan, and believe me, I wouldn't even mention it if I didn't think it would work. Stan, the whole area around here is expanding. There are two new, big apartment buildings going up not a mile from here, and there's no competition for miles. You're the one who said I should invest my money. I know it's a pittance compared to the total needed, but it's everything I have and I want to invest it in this project for a small slice of the pie."

He took a big breath and let it out with sigh while looking at the others. "Okay," he said, "let's do it."

I had talked it over several times with Serena. She obviously had concerns, but said if her dad approved it, that was good enough for her. I set aside the money for our honeymoon and a little more, then put the rest in the kitty for twenty-five percent of the new and expanded, "Plato's II, Dining Room and Banquet Hall." We left the "Place" out of the name, because we thought just "Plato's" sounded more elegant.

The loans were already pre-approved when we bought the defunkt shoe store. We kept the old restaurant just the way it was, but opened the new facility right next door. The banquet hall was booked solid for almost a year before we even opened the doors. The dining room was at capacity on opening night, a phenomenon that repeated almost every night. Stan ran the restaurant and I ran the dining room and banquet hall.

Serena and I were married according to schedule. Watching my bride walk down the isle arm in arm with her father was beyond any fantasy I'd ever had. When asked, "Who gives this woman to this man?" Stan spoke up.

"A few years ago, I promised this young man I would some day find a way to pay him back for saving my life. I am doing that today by giving him the hand of my daughter." He turned to me, "I know you'll love her forever," he said as he took Serena's hand and placed in mine. I was so choked up I could barely speak to thank him. I looked over at my bride who also had crocodile tears running down her cheeks.

After the wedding, we had a fantastic two weeks island hopping in Hawaii. About six months later, we bought a beautiful home, about twenty minutes from her folks. Stan was living full-time with his ex, which meant the apartment was vacant.

I talked to Stan, who said the apartment belonged to Serena and me and we could do whatever we wished with it. Even with Charlene bringing home four to five hundred dollars week, she and her mother, Olivia, were still struggling financially.

I talked it over with my new wife and she agreed. I wanted to meet Charlene's mother anyway, so Serena and I invited them to diner at Plato's II. Judging by how much I liked Charlene, I knew we'd like her mother, and Olivia didn't disappoint.

She was a nice-looking woman, but life made her look older than she was. She was very appreciative toward me for giving her daughter an opportunity and helping her along the way. She talked about her late husband with reverence, and it was easy to tell how much she loved him.

After dessert, Serena said we had something we wanted to show them. We left through the kitchen, out the back door and entered the apartment through the private entrance. Charlene, who had never been back there, and her mother were both impressed.

"Oh, this is beautiful," Olivia told us. "Yeah," confirmed Charlene, "this is really nice."

"We're glad you like it, because we want you take care of it for us," I said.

They both looked at me and had no idea what I was talking about. "Serena and I bought a house. We really don't want to let the place stay empty, and I don't want to rent it out to someone we don't know."

"Carter, thank you, but there's no way we'd be able to afford a place like this."

"Olivia, there is no rent. We need someone to take care of the place. You can live here rent free. All we ask is that you keep it clean and let us know if something needs to be fixed now and then."

Once again, it felt great to be able to pay back some of my good fortune. This time it was so much better because Serena and I were able to share the euphoria... and boy did we share it that night in bed.

Not a day went by that I didn't thank my lucky stars for the way my life was turning out. I had a successful business and wife I would die for. Because of the teacher shortage, she was able to land a good teaching job straight out of college.

For some reason, I remember it was a Wednesday evening when I came home and saw my lovely wife so focused on something on the laptop that she almost didn't hear me come in. When she did notice me standing there, she gave me my usual greeting with a big smile and a kiss. A little later we were sitting on the couch together.

"Honey, have you ever been curious about your heritage?"

We had never really talked about it before, and I wondered what prompted the out of the blue question. "Not really," I replied.

"You don't even know your nationality, do you? Who knows, you could be related to some famous person or something."

"Yeah, like Jack the Ripper or maybe Ivan the Terrible," I joked.

"Or, maybe George Washington or Leonardo Da Vinci," she responded.

"What brought all this on, anyway?"

"For show and tell, today, one of my students brought in a DNA report that mapped his whole ancestry. It was really neat. He said his parents did it for his birthday. I thought of you right away. I checked into it when I got home. That's what I was doing when you came in. It's a hundred bucks. All you do is spit into a little bottle and send it in. It would give you some roots, some sense of where you came from."

I thought about it for a minute or so. I didn't really care, but Serena seemed to be excited about it. "It's okay with me, go ahead and send for it. I just hope I'm not related to anyone really horrible."

About a week later, I found myself spitting into a small glass tube. Serena took it from there. About six weeks later I came home to find Serena sitting in front of the laptop again. This time she looked white as a ghost. I had forgotten all about the DNA thing and was extremely concerned with my wife's appearance.

"Honey, what's wrong?" She just looked at me. "Honey, you're really scaring me. Is someone sick, did something happen? What is it?" My stomach was twisting in knots.

"Ah... no, no," she said as she seemed to come to life again. "Everyone's fine, no one's hurt." She stood up and gave me a kiss, but it wasn't the same as usual and it did nothing to quell my anxiety.

"Honey, something is definitely wrong, what is it?"

She took me by the arm. "Let's go in the living room, it's more comfortable in there." I let her walk me to the couch where we sat down together. By then I was starting to get angry.

"What the hell is going on, Serena? Tell me—please."

"Okay, we got the DNA report back today... "

"Great," I said, half joking, "I knew it, I AM related to Jack the Ripper."

"No, silly, nothing like that. When I told you about the report, I neglected to tell you about another aspect of it. They can match your DNA to others who have taken the same test."

I still wasn't grasping it. "I don't get it, match with who?"

"The computer searches others in its data base whose DNA is related to yours in some way. Cater, your mother's name is on the report."

It felt as if all the blood drained from my body. My mind went blank.

"Honey," Serena continued, "you also have a half-sister named Michelle."

I was feeling light headed and thought I was going to pass out. I could hear Serena's voice, but it sounded like it was in a far-away echo chamber.

"Honey, honey, are you all right? Can I get you something to drink? How about a glass of water? Don't faint on me. Hold on," she said as she quickly rose and rushed into the kitchen. "Here," she said, handing me a glass, "drink this."

I don't even remember drinking it, but I must have because I doubt that she would have handed me an empty glass. I took a deep breath and started to regain control of my faculties. "So... not only does she leave me in the cold to die, but she had another baby by another man? I wonder if she left her to die, too?"

Serena obviously heard the pain and anger in my voice. "I... I probably shouldn't have told you. I debated about it for a long time. Let's just concentrate on where you're from. You've got a lot of European..."

"Is there a way to contact her?" I asked, interrupting her.

"We'd have to join to get access to the information."

"How much is that? Are you sure this isn't just some scam to get our money?"

"No, honey, it's not a scam. This is the biggest ancestry site in the world. People find long lost relatives all the time."

"Okay, I don't care how much it is, go ahead and join. I want to ask her; I want to know what was so fucking bad about me that she left me to die," I almost yelled.

Serena grabbed me and hugged my tightly. "Oh, God, I should never have said anything. I'm so sorry. Let's just forget about it, let's forget about the whole thing."

"No, I want to know, I have to know."

Reluctantly, Serena joined the site and found the address and phone number of the woman who left me to die in the street. Evidently, she was living with her daughter, or vice versa, because the New York address was the same for both of them. I was sitting on the other side of the table when she looked over the computer screen at me.

"I have it, but I think you should wait. You're too upset, honey. If you start yelling at her she might block you, then you'd never find out what you want to know."

"I can't wait. You have no idea what I'm feeling right now. My insides are twisted like a pretzel. I can't go through the night without talking to her."

"Okay, then let me call her. I'm sure I can get a lot more information from her than you would by screaming at her."

I thought about that. "Okay," I said with a sigh, "but put it on speaker so I can hear her. I'll try to stay quiet; I promise."

Serena dialed the number and put it on speaker as soon as it started to ring. "Hello?"

"Hi, I'm calling for Catherine Krause, my name is Serena Larrabee."

"Oh my God, I... I just saw that name in our Ancestry, only it was a man's name."

"Yes, Carter, he's my husband."

It sounded like she turned away from the phone. "Mom, mom, it's his wife. I think we've found him, mom, I really do. I think it's him."

We heard crying in the background. It sounded like my half-sister was also crying. I couldn't help myself. I tried not to sound too intimidating when I spoke up. "This is Carter, we have you on speaker. May I ask who we are speaking to?"

"I'm Michelle, Carter, your half-sister. My God, I still can't believe it's you."

"Can my mother hear me?"

"Just a minute, Carter. Okay, I have you on speaker. She can hear you now."

"Why?" I asked. "Can you tell me why you left me like that? What did I do to deserve that?"

All we heard from the other end was crying. It sounded like both of them. I was getting impatient. I wanted answers, but Serena helped calm me down. Finally, I heard my half-sister's voice again.

"Carter, are you there?"

"Yeah, I'm here. Ask her why, I have to know."

"Carter, she didn't abandon you. You were taken from her."

"What? By who?"

"Your father's mother. She kidnapped you to protect her son."

"From what? I don't get it."

"Carter, it's kind of complicated. If we flew out there, would you be willing to meet us, please? Mom has been looking for you all this time. We joined Ancestry as a last resort. I told Mom it was a long shot, but it worked; we found you. Please let us come out and meet you. We can explain what happened in person."

I looked at Serena, who was almost violently nodding her head, yes. "Okay, I'll arrange and pay for the tickets."

Serena and I met them the next day at O'Hare Field. I couldn't believe how nervous I was. My whole life I had hated my mother with a passion, but my heart melted when the woman who bore me look into my eyes and stroked the side of my face to see if I was real. Michelle was standing next to her. We both grabbed for her when she started to collapse.

"Here," Serena yelled, "bring her over here so she can sit down."

Michelle and I practically carried her over to a bench and sat down with our mother in the middle. She looked to Michelle, "We found him," she mumbled before looking back at me. Again, she touched my cheek. "We... we really found you." We had arranged for them to spend the week with us, during which time I learned the story of how I came to be.

My mother was barely eighteen when she got pregnant with me. My paternal grandfather was a big-wig in the church. When my father announced he was going to be a daddy, my grandparents decided the family couldn't afford the scandal. Two men held my mother while they took me from her arms. It was the last time she saw me until O'Hare.

My grandmother had two officials from the church drive all night until they reached Chicago. I guess they figured that was far enough. When they saw the police station, they stopped. It was three in the morning when that bitch laid me down on the sidewalk before taking off again.

The church sent my father to school in California. My mother never saw him again. They gave her some hush money and threatened her life if she ever told anyone about the baby. She had no way of knowing if I was even alive, but she never gave up looking for me.

I was a different man by the time they left to go back to New York. All my life, even when things were going well, I still carried that hate deep down in my soul. It was like being reborn once I knew the truth. The hate was gone.

Over the next couple of years, we talked weekly. They came out again during Christmas and met Stan, Jen, and Serena's grandparents. It took us another year to finally talk them into moving to Chicago, where Mom can play with her granddaughter and Aunty Michelle can spoil her rotten.

I sometimes wonder what my life would have been like if I hadn't asked about that room for rent, but I don't dwell on it. My life rivals any fantasy I ever had as a kid. Life is good.

The end.