Dear God, I Left Her When I Found Her

I rubbed my eyes sleepily and made a right hand turn. I knew of the neighborhood kid-Michelle lived in. Still I couldn’t help but look down at the green flyer with the address. Anxiety poured into my gut at her unfamiliar handwriting. God, this wasn’t helping at all.

Michelle, my girlfriend, took it upon herself to kick me out of bed at nine in the morning. Then she went back to sleep. Jesus, she was worse than Zacky sometimes.

I yawned loudly as I found the street and looked down at the house number for the billionth time. I sucked in a breathe and pulled into a drive way that was already occupied by two other cars.

I stepped out of my vehicle on shaky legs and forced myself to think clearly. I looked over at the house. It was really nice with a green yard and a colorful garden. Alejandra must have really succeeded in giving our-her daughter a good life.

I walked up to the door and rang the bell. I rocked back on my heels nervously and silently wondered if anyone was awake. Had I come over too early? No, it must've been around ten right now. Maybe Alejandra was awake.

Then an older woman with silvery, short blonde hair opened the door. She was not Alejandra, nor a relative.

"Hello?" she asked taking in my appearance.

"Is Michelle here?" I asked, but it was painfully obvious that she had given us a phony address.

The elderly woman's eyes narrowed with suspicion. "Who are you?"

"I'm Brian Haner." I answered and swallowed.

Her eyes widened and caused her thin eyebrows to disappear in the silver hair. "Oh my stars! You are her father!" she exclaimed with a hand on her heart.

"Calm down, um, Michelle lives here?" I really didn’t want the woman to have a heart attack or something.

"Michelle Martinez? Are you sure?" she asked me, ignoring my concern for her health.

"Yeah, that’s her." I confirmed.

"Oh my goodness! Why am I letting you stand out here for? Come in, come in." she ushered me inside of the house with her string of rhetorical questions. "Its about time we've met you." She began to tug at my arm leading me farther inside.

"Where's Alejandra?" I finally managed to ask as we neared an opening from the hallway.

She turned to look up at me with a pained expression. It was nothing but pity. "Alejandra died of ovarian cancer six months after Michelle was born." Her voice was soft and sympathetic.

I felt like I had been hit with a truck. She was orphaned. I felt like a piece of shit. If I would have known… I always thought she had dropped out of school, go live with a relative, or anything other than die.

"So you took her in?" I asked with a tongue that had morphed into sandpaper.

The woman nodded. "I was one of the nursed at the orphanage. After five years of her sitting up there I convinced my husband to foster parent her with me." The lady told me.

"An orphanage.." I murmured, feeling like an even bigger piece of shit.

"Oh! My name's Molly, by the way." She walked me into the next room. "Here, sit. I'll go and get Michelle." Molly disappeared up a small staircase.