I’d worried not all relationships would form as easily. My white, conservative father’s reaction to adoption in general had been a big concern, especially considering Mateo had come to us with a lot of issues and from a background similar to Manning’s. But any reservations had flown out the window the moment I’d shared Mateo’s test scores with my dad.
“He’s smarter than you were at that age,” my dad had said with renewed energy, “and you know what that means.”
I’d feared I had.
“He’s Trojan material,” he’d exclaimed, and they’d been thick as thieves ever since. Mateo now had his sights set on USC, and he and my dad were already in cahoots about how much mileage they could squeeze out of his adoption and Hispanic background for the admissions essay.
Lately, though, Manning and I had noticed that the older Mateo got, the more introspective he was becoming. He’d been a child when he’d shot his dad to protect his sister and he was now old enough to start asking harder questions. Even though he and Manning talked it through frequently, Mateo sometimes questioned whether there was some other way he could’ve handled the situation.
“Did you finish your homework?” I asked Mateo as he messed with the playlist on Manning’s cellphone.
“It’s summer school,” he said. “It took me ten minutes while I was waiting for the bus.”
“Smarty pants. You know you don’t have to do what Grandpa says, right? Anytime you feel overloaded, you tell me, and I’ll talk to him.”
“I know, Mom.” He sighed, hitting play on “House of the Rising Sun” before he started scrolling for the next song. When it came to electronics, he had the same attention span as our two-year-old. “I’m not worried about my classes, but . . . there is something else.”
I took the phone from him, setting it aside. “What’s the matter?” I asked.
He swung his legs under the table, watching Manning and Henry. He waited until they’d gone around the side of the shed to throw balls for the dogs.
Mateo turned to me. He had dark, wide-set eyes that sometimes seemed wise beyond his years—and other times, like now, he just looked like a shy kid. “There’s a rumor going around school,” he said.
“About?”
“Us.”
My breath caught. I’d known this was coming, but I’d hoped I’d be more prepared. With the life Manning and I had led, there was plenty of gossip to choose from. Was it that Manning had fallen for a sixteen-year-old? Or the fact that he was an ex-con? Or that I’d stolen my sister’s husband? Mateo didn’t hide the fact that he was adopted—all his classmates knew—but only the principal and our family had the details of his situation.
I braced myself for whatever bombshell Manning and I had constructed for ourselves and brought on our children. “What’s the rumor?”
“That Dad’s a criminal.”
Shit. My heart fell. Behind door number two—a mistake Manning and I had made in our youths that would haunt us forever. Though we’d gone on to live a fulfilling and rewarding life since then, I hated that decisions made long ago would affect not just us, but our kids. Knowing how sensitive Manning was about his record, and how protective he was of the family, he would not be happy to hear this.
Mateo and I were speaking quietly, but Manning came around the corner and instantly knew something was up. “What are you two talking about?”
We sat still and silent, as though we’d been busted. “Um,” I said. “School.”
“Yeah? What about it?” He pointed a screwdriver at Mateo. “You get a bad grade or what?”
“Not yet,” Mateo said. “But I’m working on it.”
Manning laughed. “Atta boy. So what’s with the long faces?”
I checked on Henry, who was trying to get Mads and Cola to sit still to play Duck Duck Goose. I supposed, at some point, I’d become one of the adults around here, so I had to act like one. “Mateo heard something at school,” I said, keeping my voice low. “About our past.”
“Ah.” Manning set the screwdriver down and crossed his arms. “What was it?”
“They say you went to jail,” Mateo said. “But that’s a lie. Your dad went to jail, not you.”
Mateo knew the gritty details about Manning’s sister’s death. When he’d first come into our home, he’d acted tough but was as scared and confused as Manning and I had expected. Not only was there a lot of commotion and crying with the new baby, but Manning was an intimidating man, and Mateo had just defended his sister from being beaten to death by killing an intimidating man.
Manning had sat Mateo down and told him all about his past, the way Madison had drowned, how he’d almost gotten in trouble for it, and how he no longer communicated with his own parents. It had bonded them, and I’d come to realize this adoption hadn’t only been about Mateo. Manning had also needed to feel like he’d truly helped. Bringing Mateo here meant Manning had finally ended a dark chapter in his life. A weight had been lifted.