Lauren was great when I hired her through an agent. She was always on time, responsible, and loving, and my six-year-old daughter Amy loved her from the first day.
There’s something about Lauren’s way with kids that you can’t fake or learn from a book. She felt like she knew Amy for a long time.
“May I have Lauren over every day, Mom?” Amy would eagerly ask when Lauren was going to watch, her eyes wide with wonder.
The room would light up with Lauren’s smile, and she would bring a canvas bag full of books, art tools, and games. That she never counted on screen time to keep Amy busy was something I really liked.
“Kids need real connection,” she told me one time as she helped Amy make a castle out of old boxes. “When they get older, the iPad will still be there.”
Laura’s songs were one of Amy’s favorite things about her. Amy would fall asleep to these soft, beautiful songs every night when I worked late.
I had never heard them before. It was almost like she had made them up herself because they were so different.
Amy told me over breakfast one morning, “Lauren’s songs scare away the monsters.” “They warm my heart.”
It was early when I heard Lauren sing for the first time. I heard the end of her song through the crack in Amy’s bedroom door. Her voice was so beautiful it made you feel like you could hear the emotions in it coming from deep inside her.
I stood there for a while, not wanting to break the silence because I thought I was seeing something almost holy.
I asked Amy, “How do you like Lauren?” one night as I was putting her into bed. Does she treat you well when I’m not there?”
Amy smiled. “She’s great, Mom!” She showed me how to measure flour while we baked cookies today. She doesn’t get mad when I spill things.
I smoothed her covers and said, “That sounds great.”
“But…” Amy’s smile got a little shaky.
“But what, honey?”
Amy thought for a moment and then whispered, “When she sings, sometimes I feel weird.”
I made a face. “How is that weird?” It makes you feel bad, right?”
Amy quickly shook her head and said, “No, no.” “I feel like I know the songs already.” I know them, not because she sings them every night, but because I’ve heard them before. A very long time ago. I don’t remember when, though.
I got a chill. Something about the way Amy said it really scared me.
“Perhaps they’re school or TV songs?” As I spoke, I tried to keep my voice light.
Amy gave a hard shake of her head.
“No.” These are unique. They are not sung by anyone else. That’s all. “And… and someone else I can’t remember.”
I tried to brush it off as something a child would think up, since kids sometimes mix up dreams and real life. But something about the way her eyes looked confused stuck with me.
I couldn’t sleep that night because Amy’s words kept playing over and over in my head.
I chose to have tea with Lauren the next day after her shift just to get to know her better.
Being honest, there was nothing fishy about Lauren. She had great references, a background check, and she had been great with Amy.
I was interested, though.
Lauren looked surprised and happy about the invite. We sat on the back porch with hot chamomile tea and watched Amy play in the yard, which was close enough to see.
I told her with a smile, “Amy talks about you all the time.” “You have really impressed me.”
Lauren looked at Amy as she chased a butterfly. “What a sweet little girl. So nice and bright.”
I gave him a nod and then slowly told him what was on my mind. “Lauren, your lullabies are one of a kind and so beautiful.” Did you write them by yourself? “Amy seems…interested in them.”
Her face turned dark right away. After a moment of silence, she said, “My mom used to sing them to me.” She played music and made up the songs herself… and then I gave them to someone else.
She wasn’t sure what to do and kept staring into her tea as if the solutions were there.
“But that was a long time ago.” She added, “Feels like a different life.”
“Do you have your own children?” I asked.
There was a question mark over our conversation. Laura’s face turned pale. She put her teacup on the table with a soft clink, her hands shaking a little.
“I… I had a daughter.”
Had. I got chills when I heard that word.
“What took place?” I asked.
Lauren let out a shaky breath and looked past me at Amy, who was in the yard picking dandelions. “I lost everything when my daughter was a year old.” Their car had crashed, and they were gone. When I told my husband I was pregnant, he left me. It was just me and no one to help me. I couldn’t work and take care of her by myself. I couldn’t even pay for child care.
“For a while, I lived in my car and took my baby with me to job interviews,” she said. “That person is not someone anyone wants to hire.”
She said, “I… I couldn’t bear to watch her suffer.” “I chose the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do.”
As she spoke, I could see the pain in every line of her face.
“I let her go.” Choosing to. She could not have a better future with me, so I had to do it.
I was sure she could hear my heart beating so fast. There was so much going on in my mind that I could hardly breathe.
“Sometimes I drive by that adoption center,” Lauren said. “Remember that.” To help me remember why I did it. that it wasn’t for me but for her. She laughed really hard. “That’s awful, right?”
I spoke quietly, “No.” “Nothing sad about it.”
I knew I needed to ask. I had to know, even though I had a feeling I already knew.
My voice was a little shaky as I said, “Lauren.” “Did you give her up at this adoption center by any chance?”
I showed her a picture of the agency where we had adopted Amy while my hands were shaking.
It was from the day we brought her home. I was in front of the building with a small bundle in my hands that was wrapped in a yellow blanket.
Laura’s eyes got really big in shock. “How do you know that spot?”
Everything made sense at that moment.
The bedtime songs. The bond right away. Amy said the songs made her feel like they were from “a long, long time ago.”
I took a deep breath in and tried to keep my voice steady.
“Lauren… Amy told me she knows your bedtime songs.
She just stared at me, her face a mix of confusion and growing awareness.
“What do you mean?” It was a whisper, but I could tell from the look on her face that she was starting to get it.
As I spoke, I could hardly believe what I was saying.
“Amy has a family.” We took her in when she was more than a year old, which was five years ago.
Lauren’s face turned as white as a sheet as tears filled her eyes. She put her hands to her mouth right away.
She said “No” in a low voice through her fingers. “No, it’s not possible.”
I said in a soft voice, “Her birthday is March 15th.” “The Springfield Memorial is where she was born.”
Even more tears came out of Lauren’s eyes. “How did you understand that?” Those little things weren’t—”
“In the papers for adoption?” I was done for her. “No, they were in her medical records that they gave us,” she said.
I got Amy’s adoption papers out of the filing closet after she said something strange about the lullabies and put them in a folder next to my chair.
At the time, I didn’t know what I was looking for, but I felt driven to look.
“We can look at the records and dates.” But Lauren… Amy could be your real daughter.
She let out a gasp as tears ran down her face. “No, this isn’t real,” she said. “This is not likely to happen.”
It was real, though. I didn’t mean to hire Amy’s real mother as her nanny, but I did.
“Knew that?” Lauren asked quickly, her voice rough. “Did you know who I was when you hired me?”
“Of course not!” I quickly said. “How could I? It was over with the adoption. You never knew our name, and we never knew yours. “This is just…”
“Just a coincidence?” Lauren laughed so hard she cried. “Or fate?”
We both looked out at Amy, who was blowing a dandelion and had no idea that a life-changing talk was going on just a few yards away.
“Now what?” Lauren spoke quietly.
I had no idea what to do. I wasn’t ready for this. There isn’t a parenting book that tells you what to do when the original mother of your adopted child ends up babysitting them.
I slowly replied, “I guess that depends.” “What do you need?”
“You should know that I didn’t come looking for her.” I gave up that right, so I wouldn’t have.
I told her, “I know.”
“The agency sent me here because I needed a job,” she said. “But I felt… from the first time I met her.” I’m not sure. Something to do. I thought I was good with kids.
I put my hand on hers. “Do you want Amy to know the truth?”
She shook her head hard and wiped her tears with her free hand. “No.” She has a mom. You’re her mom. You brought her up. You stuck with her.
From the look in her eyes, I could tell she loved Amy deeply and was in pain.
“How about you?” I asked. “Since you know what you know, can you keep watching her?”
She was quiet for a long time. “Can I still be a part of her life?” “What if she never finds out who I am?”
I said in a soft voice, “I wouldn’t take that away from either of you.”
But on Amy’s birthday a few months later, Lauren showed up with balloons, flowers, and a cake she had made herself. She said she couldn’t watch that day because she had a migraine, so I was surprised when she showed up at our door.
She took a big breath and smiled even though she was crying.
“I gave her up. She might be interested in me one day.” You could tell her. I just want to be there for her right now, even if it’s just to watch her kids.
When I asked her to come to the party, tears came to my eyes.
She said in a whisper, “Thank you.” “Being there for her in every way I could.”
I told them, “Thank you for giving me the best gift of my life.”
It’s possible that this was meant to be. What was even better was that Amy was thrilled to see Lauren that day.
Lauren became a quiet part of Amy’s life over time. She was always there and willing to help, but she never went too far. She never told Amy the truth, but she loved her and celebrated every new step and success as if it were her own.
She knew that every night when she sang Amy those special lullabies, she was giving her something that was truly hers, a thread that would connect them across time and space.
That was enough.
This work is based on real people and events, but it has been made up for artistic reasons. To protect privacy and make the story better, names, characters, and circumstances have been changed. Any similarity to real people, living or dead, or real events is completely accidental and not on purpose by the author.
thecelebritist.com is the source.