Mom's house was empty and it looked like the only things living were the wild animals inside. There was a paper stuck to the door that I didn't read and a huge padlock on the key area. When I turned around, I received another crushing blow once I saw the "For Sale" sign on the front lawn. I walked to the sign, kicked it in frustration, and collapsed on the lawn. I finally felt how Dad did for all these years. I was crushed and felt so deceived. I laid there crying for about an hour, torn between the hope that she never replied to my letters because she moved, or the idea that she moved because I reached out to her. All I wanted from this trip was closure, but instead I got more questions. My expectation was Mom welcoming me with open arms once she saw me, and inviting me to stay for the weekend so we could catch up on lost times. The reality was, I still don't know her or where she is.

While I was lost in my thoughts, time just kept passing me by. Every car that drove by just looked at me as if I were crazy and kept on moving. I finally decided to get up and start thinking of a way to get home. When I reached into my bag for my phone, there were hundreds of missed calls and messages from Dad. I was disappointed in myself because if he found out what I did, it would probably just kill him. However, I could tell from the messages that he was worried sick; I couldn't care less. I gazed up at the clear blue sky for a while then urged myself to give Dad a callback. I realized that my hurt feelings and anguish shouldn't be taken out on the only person that cared about me. Therefore, I explained to him that I was feeling a bit down about my birthday and stayed at my best friend's house for the night. It was a lie, but it kept him from panicking or assuming I ran off like Mom did. He'd believe that lie easily because he knew that every year, around my birthday, I'd get really sad about another year without mom and this year would make seven.

I called for a cab back to the airport and purchased a ticket back home with the emergency credit card. Dad and I were on the same account, but I figured by the time he saw the purchase, I would have already paid it off and thought of a lie to cover it up. My flight was in four hours which was a horrible amount of time to think about all of the events that preceded this moment. To kill time, I went and got something to eat, "window shopped," and got my best friend a souvenir from the gift shop. The time eventually went by when I started to read a "How To" book on feelings. I purchased it and ran to the gate as the announcement that my flight was boarding went off for the last call.

The plane ride home was smooth, I silently cried myself to sleep. The majestic view I had from the window seat made me feel so solemn that I couldn't bear the sight without shedding a tear. By the time I woke up, the plane landed and everyone was gathering their things to leave. I walked out of the airport and was met by a cab driver going my direction. I remained silent the entire ride to my house and paid him in cash. I was in such a zone, I forgot my change but when I realized, I figured he needed more than I did. I unlocked the door in dread, only to be met with the aroma of dinner and Dad welcoming me home with a smile. He wasn't drunk and was groomed. I was shocked at the sight of his trimmed beard, cut hair, clean clothes, and the scent of cologne. It was almost like he was a new person and I was delighted. Drunk dad was annoying and a pain to be around because of his self-loathing. Sober dad actually remembered it was my birthday this year and made me dinner. It was all so nice until he said the words, "we need to talk," which killed my good mood. Before he could get a word in, the doorbell rang and I was delighted for something to interrupt what was clearly going to be a conversation I couldn't avoid. Dad ran to the door and from what I could hear, he invited the person in which was then followed by the click of a woman's heels. I folded my arms and glared in suspicion, waiting for the woman to enter the dining room. When I finally laid eyes on her, she was a tall, slender woman with dark curly hair, and a face for the gods. Before she could introduce herself, I ran up to her and gave her a forceful hug, coupled with weeping.

It was as if I was looking into a mirror. The woman looked just like me but with more goddess-like features. It was my Mom. She'd finally come back and she and dad set it up so that she'd surprise me for my birthday. As we spoke over dinner, mom and dad explained to me that when Dad found her, she moved back into town without telling him. They eventually met up to hash out the bad feelings and decided to give me the reunion I deserved. Mom begged me to forgive her and I agreed, under the condition that she explained to me why she left in the first place. In a surprising turn of events, Mom went to prison and served a 5-year sentence for being an accessory to a crime committed before I was born. That morning when she told me "I'll understand when I'm older," was the same morning she decided to turn herself in. She declared that looking into my eyes from the rear view mirror was the moment she knew she couldn't live with the secret anymore. She went on to apologize to both Dad and me for leaving the way she did. She also told us that she was on parole for the last two years, which is why she couldn't come back. The story about her moving and starting a new life was a lie told by her family to keep us in the dark. As painful as the truth was, we finished our dinner and all agreed to work on coming together as a family from that point forward.

You'd think that we lived happily ever after following my birthday dinner, but that would be only for a fairy-tale. Dad took her back in the quickness and they got remarried against my wishes. I then became angry with Dad because he was too naive to see that something was wrong with that woman for leaving us without notice. Mom and Dad constantly fought about her keeping him in the dark all these years. They even dragged me into their vicious disagreements constantly and I began to resent them both after a while. I forgave Mom, but I couldn't get over the fact that, even while she was in prison, she could have contacted me. I dismissed all of her confessions of shame and disappointment as the reasons she didn't call or write me. Things got better between them after they had my sister, but I remained bitter throughout the last year of high school. That August, I went off to college across the country and never speaking to either of them again.