Post by Esme Kegan Archer on Jul 26, 2013 5:24:18 GMT
She stood outside the coffee shoppe that she was supposed to meet the lead organizer for her internship. Placing a hand on her flat stomach, she exhaled a moment ‘This is it.’ She thought to herself with a trepidatious bit of hope. 'This is the first chance I have to find my birth mother.' Would she like her? Would the woman welcome her with open arms and the story of being a wealthy underage teen or would she be some middle aged bitter crone trying to pass off an illegitimate baby on some childless couple who hated her daughter for the stretch marks she left behind? Esme played both scenarios around in her mind and shook her ash blonde head in frustration.
Her curls danced down her back and she sighed, that didn’t sound like a scene she wanted to happen. When she visualized her mother she pictured power, beauty and grace. A pantheress who was not afraid to strike first and ask questions later. A woman that didn’t make excuses but was a woman that people respected and admired. She pictured her mother seeing her and being pleased. Not in that maternal fluffy way that her adoptive mother had but in that way that didn’t embarrass you or make you cringe. She wanted a mother that didn’t remark on how she had eaten paste or clucked her tongue at the fact that her daughter had a Harley that she road because it felt like flying.
She walked in and got a soy latte, opting to keep her dining light. The scent of coffee filled her nostrils as she sat down in one of the suede couches that was off in the corner in the area that people had meetings for work. Today she was in a cream colored suit with a matching set of heels from prada. Her blouse was royal purple and she felt the outfit set off her golden hair to its best advantage. Her hair was done in a classic business style and her French manicure proved she took care of herself. Exhaling gently she stood and waited for the person she was to shadow to arrive.
‘I’m not ready for this. I should just go. This was a waste of time.’ She thought to herself as she debated walking out and going home to just take what she had. But she had come too far to back out now. For good or ill she would find out about her mother and why she had been abandoned.