Michael-New Version

As I sat there, across from this woman I had just met, I looked down at the papers she had handed me. It was a birth certificate but it may as well have been a blank piece of paper. All it had was an unknown name, an unknown father, the time of birth, that the baby was a boy and that the mother was the woman sitting across from me, Jeanine Bestoso. As I took it all in I looked out the window as the storm clouds rolled in and the wind picked up. This was a much different scene then the one that had begun this day.


It was a beautiful brisk New England spring morning. My cousin, Susan, and I had gone for a drive. I had always liked to drive and it was a beautiful day for driving. The sun shone down on our faces, warming the car delicately. The wind began to pick up as we headed for the coast. Within forty-five minutes we had made it from the Connecticut/Rhode Island border to the Newport Bridge. The wind picked up as we began to drive over the bridge, the waves crashed against the rocks on the shore of Narragansett Bay. We could hear the lapping water and the cry of the seagulls. I could smell the ocean in the misty spray while we crossed the bridge. We soon came to the other side where the Newport Bridge Toll was located, I handed the toll taker a Bridge Token, and he responded, “Ma’am we no longer accept Bridge Tokens, sorry for the inconvenience. It will be four dollars to pass.”

“What? Why?” I asked in confusion. I looked over at Susan and could see that she was just as lost as I was. I had collected these tokens for years; they always symbolized a trip to the beach while I was growing up. My dad had always let me hand the toll taker the tokens. This was an abrupt change I was not expecting.

“The state switched us over to strictly cash, I’m sorry Ma’am.” He responded.

“It’s not your fault, Sir, but I don’t agree with the changes.” As I drove away from the toll, thoughts began flowing through my mind. This is so different. I’m not sure if I can keep going. Will I even be able to find her? Will she even talk to me if I do find her? I hope I find information about Michael. After being an only child all my life, always wanting siblings, I finally find out I have an older brother, now it’s just a matter of finding him. The thoughts that were rolling around in my mind were not helping the panic building inside me.

Susan finally broke the silence. “We are going to get you answers, hun. Today is going to be a good day; I have a good feeling about it.”

“I hope so, I really really hope so.”

“Take your time, we have all day, and I wanted to see the ocean today anyways.”

“Thanks, Susan.” I knew this trip was different; it was not all for fun. I had my actions set in my mind. For fear that I might back away from my itinerary; I had brought Susan, who I knew would not let me leave without completing the tasks at hand. I had to I saw the sign for the Ocean Drive and turned abruptly. This is where I always felt safe, driving down the coast and losing my thoughts in the vast ocean.

After driving around for about an hour, Susan and I headed toward downtown Newport. I found Ocean Coffee Roasters, a small coffee shop, in Washington Square. I decided this would be as good a time as any to pull over and start the mission I came to accomplish. Susan and I parked, and walked into the coffee shop. Susan went to a table and I went to the register. “Hello ma’am how can I help you today?” the Barista asked.

“Can I get two small coffees and would you happen to have a phonebook I could borrow?” I asked.

She quickly bent under the counter and started moving things around. She reappeared quickly, “Here is the phone book, and I will bring your coffee out to you as soon as it’s up.”

“Thank you ma’am,” I said, as I turned and headed toward Susan. I sat down and began thinking again. What am I doing? This is never going to work. Things are never this easy. I should just leave this alone and go back home. “Susan, I don’t know if I can do this. This isn’t a good idea.”

“Marissa, you know you have to take this step to get closer to finding your brother.”

“I don’t even know how things ended between her and my dad though, I mean it could have been bad and she may want nothing to do with any of this. I have never met her and she has no idea I exist, and I’m supposed to just call her?” My dad is not big on details, and the only thing I knew was that I had an older brother out there and his mother’s name was Jeanine Bestoso.

“I know you can do this hun, what’s the worst that she can do? Hang up on you? It won’t be that bad. I promise.”

“Ok,” I took a deep breath. She was right, I had to do this. I began flipping through the phone book, looking for Bestoso, I found two. I decided to call the first that was listed. I wrote down the number on a napkin and looked up at Susan.

“You can do this, Marissa. Just try it.”

“Ok,” I began to dial the number and before I could delete it I pressed the talk button on my phone.
The phone rang three times and a woman answered, “Hello?”

“Hello, is this Jeanine Bestoso?”

“Yes, this is she.”

“Hi, My name is Marissa Sullivan, you don’t know me, but I was wondering if you remembered a Cornelius Sullivan?” This part was tense. She would either hang up or say yes. My chance might be gone. This was not something I was used to doing, talking to strangers on the phone; I wouldn’t even do this at work I always asked co-workers to cover the phones for me.

“Yea, I remember Connie!” She was surprised and upbeat about the question. This was amazing. She hadn’t hung up on me.

“Well, I’m his daughter, and I was wondering if I could ask you some questions about Michael, if you don’t mind.” I asked.

“You mean your brother.” She stated.

“Yea.”

“Where are you Marissa? I can explain things better in person.” She asked me.

“I’m actually in Newport right now. I’m up visiting family from Virginia.”

“Really, where are you in Newport?”

“I’m sitting at a coffee shop in Washington Square. I think it’s Ocean Coffee Roasters.”

“Ok, well, if you give me fifteen minutes and I can meet you there. How will I be able to recognize you?”

Ummmm, I had to think a second. “I am the female version of my dad with red hair, and I’m wearing a green sweater.”

“Ok, I will be over shortly.”

“I’ll be here, see you soon.” With that we hung up. Susan was smiling as I set my phone on the table.

She couldn’t hold it in anymore, “See that wasn’t so bad! Is she really coming here?”

“Yea, I can’t believe that went so well, she will be here in about fifteen minutes.” I still couldn’t believe the conversation I had just had. She hadn’t hung up. She wants to meet me. This is really happening. I was completely antsy for the next fifteen minutes, bouncing my leg, tapping my fingers on the table, and picking up my phone and looking at it.

When she walked in the door I looked up, as I had done every time the door opened since I had hung up with her. When I looked up and caught her eyes, she smiled and walked to the table.

“Marissa?” I nodded. “It’s wonderful to meet you dear. You were not lying you do look just like your father, at least from what I remember of him.” As she said this she laughed lightly.

She sat down and leaned back in the chair. “So what can I answer for you?” she asked me.

“Anything you are willing to share, honestly. My dad told me about Michael when I was eighteen, and hasn’t been able to give me much information to go on. I want to try find him.” I responded.

“It was a very long time ago; I don’t know how much detail I’ll be able to give you but I’ll try.” She said comfortably.

She began telling me the story. She was eighteen when she found out she was pregnant. Her family was Catholic and she was the youngest daughter. Her father sent her to California to live with an older sister while she was pregnant, so family friends wouldn’t find out about it. She gave birth on August 15, 1970. It was a premature birth. She was told she couldn’t hold her son and refused to accept that. She held him in her arms, looked down, and said “You are my Michael.” She didn’t want to give him up, but was forced to. She agreed to let him go to a certain family, and when he was premature, he was taken to a foster home against her wishes. She had tried to find him once in the early 90’s, she and her three children were all very interested in finding Michael. This was all good news.

As the big rain drops began battering the windows, I realized that today I had come a great distance in my search for the brother I had not known, but as far as I had come was nowhere near as far as I was going to have to go. Yes I had meet my half brother’s mother Jeanine Bestoso, and now I knew where he was born, at what time, and on what day; but there were many other unanswered questions. We still did not know who had adopted him and where. I was one step closer, but still what seemed like a million miles away from the end of this journey that I had begun.