Note to Readers: This is the second chapter of a series and is presented from Savy's point of view. Future chapters will continue alternating between Mike's (odd) and Savy's (even) points of view. The chapters will cover the same time periods and will often cover the same events.
I believe that there is value in presenting both perspectives, with associated feelings and emotions. However, it is very much up to you whether to read all chapters. You may choose to read only Mike's or only Savy's chapters and still understand much of the story.
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I don't remember much about my family. My birth family, I mean, as I was only four when I was adopted. I wish I had even a few memories of them, but I was just too young. There are times when I can close my eyes and maybe, just maybe, dredge up an image in my mind, but I can never really tell if it's true or simply wishful thinking.
What I do remember, quite clearly, is the house that I moved to when I was four. It was beautiful, like one of those southern-style homes you see on television, complete with the perfect wrap-around porch, a beautiful yard, and plenty of woodlands around. That was a special place for me.
Unfortunately, my new parents' relationship wasn't as idyllic as our house. Mom and dad never really fought, not in front of my brother and I, anyway. They also never really spoke or even acknowledged each other. My dad came home late from work virtually every night and by the time he did get home, my mom had taken care of us and sent us off to bed. On weekends, my dad would either go into the office or putter around the garage. I really don't remember them talking openly.
Still, that was almost better than the other times, when they would go to their bedroom and close the door. I don't think children often understand the issues between their parents, but kids aren't immune to the atmosphere, either. When my parents were in there, their voices sometimes rising loud enough to be heard, the house was filled with an almost chilly atmosphere. It was at times like that when my brother gave me the stability that I think every kid craves.
Mike would take me outside and we'd play in the yard. He didn't seem to care what exactly we did. If I wanted to hide behind trees or throw a ball, he was happy. If I wanted to do girly things and play with stuffed animals or pretend to be a princess, he was just as happy.
I think back and he was remarkably resilient for a young boy going through a broken home. Mom absolutely did her best, but a lot of nights, Mike was the one to curl up on the beanbag in my room and read to me, before whispering "Goodnight, Savy."
I was six when my parents divorced.
Mom, Mike and I moved to a smaller house, staying on the Eastern Shore in Salisbury. It was still a very nice place, but as my third home in two years, it wasn't easy on me.
Things did get better, though. My mom was incredible. I know she worked hard to provide for us and while weren't rich by any means, Mike and I never had to worry about food on the table or clean clothes for school. That's a lot more than many kids in our situation could say, especially since we never saw dad and had no contact other than a card every once in awhile.
More than anything, I wanted to make both my mom and my brother proud. Nothing made me happier than bringing home a test or assignment with a bright red 'A' on the front and one or both of them beaming back at me and hugging me. I can't thank them enough for that, because it helped me become driven at school.
I eventually picked up the violin too, after seeing a concert on TV and thinking how beautiful the lead violinist was in her gown, with the entire crowd watching her in complete adulation. By the time I was in 5th grade, I was regularly performing solos at school performances, which of course made mom and Mike so happy. I actually even skipped 4th grade, though because I'd started school a year later than most kids due to my adoption, it just put me at about where I should have been for my age.
Even when things weren't great, we figured out how to get through them. Both Mike and I were small for our ages, though I know it was even rougher on him, because boys can be so cruel to anyone that doesn't fit their expectations and the smallest are the target of their immature ire. Even after he picked up wrestling in middle school, he was bullied quite a bit by the larger football and basketball players. When that happened, I always tried to be at the door when he got home from school, with a smile on my face.
He told me he could never be in a bad mood if I was smiling for him.
I had to deal with my own bouts of being bullied, as there weren't many kids at my school that looked like me. Being so short and skinny, wearing glasses too, made me an easy target. Fortunately, I had two friends that I'd gone to school with for as long as I could remember, Mandy and Aly, as well as Mike to make sure I always had a friendly face and comforting hug nearby.
When Mike got later into high school, I knew he was so busy trying to get into competitive programs at Maryland. Combined with wrestling and hanging out with his high school friends, I saw him a lot less than I used to or would have preferred. He always made time for me on Sundays, though, making sure we watched a baseball game together, either on TV or going to the park to see the Shorebirds play, or just had a nice picnic out in the yard.
How many girls can say that they had an older brother who would make that effort for them? Even then, I knew how lucky I was to have Mike in my life.
When Mike was a senior, he had his first somewhat serious girlfriend. She was cute and always friendly towards me, so even though it meant that I didn't have him to spend time with on Friday or Saturday night, I understood why.
I wish I could have spent more time with Mike during the summer before he went to college. Between work, his girlfriend, and all that goes with preparing for college, he just didn't have the time. The day he left for school, mom asked if I wanted to go with her to drop him off, but I said no. I gave Mike a hug at the car and wished him luck, but then went back inside. I was still crying in my room when my mom got home hours later. My best friend wasn't at home anymore.
Mike made sure he didn't forget me, though. Every night when I got home from school and whatever practice or extracurricular activity I had, there was an instant message waiting for me from him. He'd ask me about school and violin, what I was doing with my friends, if any boys had noticed me. There he was, at college and surrounded by all kinds of new people and experiences, but every night, he always found the time to send me at least one message, telling me he missed me and was proud of me.
High school was both easy and hard for me. On the one hand, I had absolutely no problems handling the work and my grades were always at the top of my class. On the other hand, outside of Mandy and Aly, I really didn't make any other friends.
I've always been a bit nervous around new people. I like comfortable things, things that I know. Boys weren't interested in me at all, even though there were a few that I certainly crushed on, and the girls, especially the popular ones, weren't any better. It always seemed like a new person noticing me was invariably followed by taunts and insults. It didn't help that even in high school, I was the same short, skinny, ungainly girl... and suddenly I had braces, too. Even then, Mike would come home for a holiday or school break and he'd always tell me I had a smile that could melt even the coldest of hearts. When he said that, I couldn't help grinning from ear to ear at him.
I know it's somewhat common now, but I'll admit that I was embarrassed that I went to my senior prom with Mandy and Aly. I mean, it's your prom. You're supposed to have your first kiss, or more likely for a lot of girls lose their virginity, with some cute boy who means the world to you at the time, but you'll probably forget in a few years.
I kind of understand why I didn't have a date. I was still on the short side, but I'd gotten my braces off and had started wearing contacts, plus I wasn't quite as gawky as before. Mom had said that with my shimmering red dress and long dark hair, I was gorgeous and even looked like a true Terp. She's also my mom and has to say that. The three of us did have a great time, but it's just not the same when the slow songs come on and you and your friends sit chatting awkwardly around a table, sad little punch cups in hand.
A month after prom, I graduated. I was my school's valedictorian, thanks to a perfect record through even my advanced placement classes. More importantly, I'd been accepted to the University of Maryland to study biology! Mike had graduated, but because he'd be doing his master's degree there and working at the nearby NASA campus in Greenbelt, we'd be living close to each other again. I couldn't wait.
Sometimes you don't even know how much you really want something and then when it's right there and you know it's going to happen, there's a weight that comes off of your shoulders. It can sneak up on you and absolutely shock you when it happens.
Two weeks after graduation, Mike finally texted me to tell me that he'd be home the next night. I was almost irrationally giddy and I barely slept the night before, because I hadn't seen him in six months. The day he was due home, I helped mom clean up the house and made sure his room was in good comfortable shape for him.
At about 6pm, I settled onto the sofa and waited for Mike. Unfortunately, after not having slept much the night before and then bustling around the house all day, I was wiped. I don't know when I fell asleep.
The next thing I knew, I felt a hand swat me on my thigh. I popped my head out from under the blanket I'd curled up under and it was Mike!
"Oh my god, I'm so sorry, I thought you were..."
Does he not even recognize me?
"Mike!"
"Savy?"
Mike leaned over and turned on the lamp and looked back at me. I immediately launched myself against him and wrapped my arms around him.
"I missed you, Mike."
He stammered a bit, maybe I was squeezing too tightly, "I... I... I missed you, too."
I hugged him for as long as I could, until I felt him sit back a little. Mike's eyes drifted down and it looked like he was shocked at just how long my hair had gotten. It had been pretty long for as long as I could remember, but now it was almost to my waist.
I couldn't help but raise an eyebrow; Mike was taking his time getting his eyes back up to meet mine. I knew that I'd filled out quite a bit the last six months. Some girls hit their growth spurt a little later and mine just happened to be in the spring of my senior year. I was wearing a comfortable pair of loose yoga pants and a relatively short tank top, so I knew he could see just how I'd developed. I'd added a few inches, though still only stood barely 5', and weight to the appropriate places on my previously lanky frame. It may have been weird, but it felt nice as I wasn't used to having guys let their eyes wander on me.
By the time he did get around to lifting his eyes back up to mine, I couldn't help having the biggest smile ever.
I don't know how long we talked for, but the next morning I woke up on the sofa, next to Mike, with my arm wrapped inside of his and my head resting on his shoulder. Mom was offering coffee and breakfast, which after a night sleeping sitting upright on the sofa, he looked like he needed.
I tried to find stuff to keep me busy that day. I knew that mom needed time with her boy too. It wasn't easy, though.
