Starbucks was packed, but Chris spotted them straight away. Far window table like they had said, black business suits, white shirts, older, grey haired. The woman, Amelia was facing his way but deep in conversation with the man, John. Amelia, John, his real parents. Chris pushed and squeezed his way between the tables towards them. " sorry ", " scuse me, sorry " but no one really noticed him. As he approached the table he began to hear their conversation. " about time too " Amelia was saying insistently " only one other contact so far, I am beginning to lose faith in this whole thing ". Stopping beside the table, Chris suddenly had no idea what to say, but Amelia looked up at him, so he smiled down at her. " Ah yes, " she said quickly, " a single expresso, that was it wasn't it John ? and a tall skinny latte please " and just as quickly began to resume talking to her companion " so what do you think about the project John ? I mean with no contacts, how can there be any future ?" " errrrm" Chris started to say quietly but John spoke over him, a deeper measured tone "I think you forget this is Starbucks, Amy" , " no waiters " and turning towards Chris, smiled and said " You must be Chris ". Amy suddenly looked up at him then back at John " chameleon " she said under her breath. At least that is what he thought she said, but as he glanced her way she just smiled slowly. " I am John, " said John holding his hand out to shake, a firm confident grip in comparison to Chris's sweaty nervousness. " And this, of course is Amelia " he continued, nodding towards Chris's new mother. "Please be seated" Shaking Amy's hand Chris sat in the chair opposite them as they gazed intently at him. Please be seated ? he thought, this is like careers at school, are they going to interview me, interview their own son ? A new thought occured to him or are they not my parents? some sort of intermediary perhaps? he had read about this sort of thing. " errrm . . . who ? sorry, I mean are you . . . ?" "Your parents ?" replied John quickly, efficiently " But of course we are." " And we have been expecting your call for a while now, everything is ready."
Chris had indeed read about this. As soon as he discovered he was adopted he had gone onto the internet to find out how it worked, how he could find out about his real parents. This was how it happened, as soon as you were old enough your parents, your adoptive parents that is, sat down and talked to you, told you. Then with a case worker you were allowed to find out who your real parents were, and then write to them. If they replied you could write again and when the time was right, perhaps talk on the phone. If things went well you could then all meet with your caseworker there, at her office perhaps or in a public place. And on it went from there. Well it had started properly, his parents had sat down with him, " We think you are old enough to know the truth, Chris", "we'll always love you" etc etc, blah de, blah, "the time has come, as we always knew it would "so far, as expected but then . . . " And so we have contacted your real parents and arranged a meeting " A meeting, just like that, no caseworker, no letters, no conversations on the phone. And here he was now, sitting in a cafe in the middle of town on a Monday afternoon with two weird strangers who were now his parents.
And everything was ready.
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