Who Are You? (9780307823533) by Joan Lowery Nixon

Dad’s car drive up and the garage door crank open. “I’ve got to go,” I tell Lindy. “Mom and Dad are home. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
    Mom kicks off her shoes, washes her hands, and works beside me as I finish making dinner. Dad changes and comes back into the kitchen in comfortable clothes. “What can I do?” he asks.
    “You can pour the water,” Mom says. At the same time, she and I both reach for the buttered, seasoned bread crumbs to put on the tomatoes we’re going to broil. We collide. Laughing, we make a second try, and Dad says, “That reminds me of a joke I heard about two mountain climbers.”
    We listen and groan. I don’t know where Dad finds these corny jokes.
    I wait to tell Mom and Dad what happened at the hospital.
    Dad settles back in his chair and smiles. “You’re a good cook, Kristi,” he says.
    “It’s just plain old meat loaf,” I answer. “Nothing special.”
    “Maybe it’s what you put with it. The broiled tomatoes were good, and I like the salad with pecans in it.”
    “Mom made the tomatoes.”
    Mom pats my hand and smiles too. Food energy is kicking in. They’re perking up. Now’s the time, I decide, to tell them.
    “Did you have a good day, honey?” Mom asks me.
    “It was an unusual day,” I say. I take a deep breath and go through the story of what happened at the hospital with Mr. Merson.
    Neither Mom nor Dad interrupts. They listen with wide eyes until I reach the end. Then the questions start.
    “Why couldn’t you wait until Sunday, when we’ll be with you?” Mom asks. “That maniac could have killed you, too!”
    “I didn’t know what was going to happen. Anyhow, he didn’t kill me. And because I was there he didn’t kill Mr. Merson, either.”
    “That’s beside the point. We don’t know Mr. Merson. We don’t know what kind of a person he is. It was a brave thing for you to do, but you shouldn’t have been there without us.”
    “What had you hoped to accomplish by visiting him, Kristi?” Dad asks.
    I sigh. “I hoped to find out who Mr. Merson is,” I answer. “I didn’t. But I
did
accomplish something. I saved his life.”
    “Granted,” he says. “And we’re proud of you forthat, but we worry that you’re taking dangerous options.”
    I lean toward them, looking from one to the other. “Let me ask a question now. It’s about my birth.”
    I can see Mom’s shoulders tense. Dad sucks in his breath and stares at me.
    I don’t know what I expected, but it wasn’t this reaction. “What?” I ask.
    “Go on, Kristi. What’s your question?” Dad says. He and Mom are looking at me as if I’d asked nothing more threatening than what they want for dessert. What did I just see? It’s no longer there. Did I imagine it?
    I clear my throat and speak up. “One of the doctors in the hospital thought I was visiting my grandfather.”
    “Your grandfather?” Mom asks. “What gave the doctor that idea?”
    I shrug. “Well, because Mr. Merson had been asking for me. I told the doctor Mr. Merson was not my grandfather. I was right, wasn’t I?”
    Mom’s eyes widen with amazement, and Dad looks puzzled.
    “Of course you’re right. You know Mr. Merson isn’t related to us,” Mom says.
    And Dad adds, “That’s a peculiar question, Kristi. I don’t know why you’d ask it.”
    “We’ve never even met the man,” Mom says.
    “I’m not adopted,” I say. It’s a statement, not a question.
    “Oh, good heavens,” Mom says. “Of course you’re not. Don’t you think we would have toldyou?” Impatiently she pushes her chair back from the table and begins to rise, but Dad rests a hand on her arm. He chuckles, surprising both of us.
    “Nearly every kid wonders at some time or another if he’s been adopted,” he says. “I did. You probably did too, Callie. I remember taking a good long look at my parents, seeing all their flaws and thinking there was no way in the world I could have the same genes.”
    Mom’s shoulders drop as she