Authors: Midge Bubany
“See, that’s tricky. I’m just not sure. But now I can adjust to the fact that you’re a liar and I can never really trust you again.”
“Don’t say that. You’re just mad. You’ll get over it.”
“You know I’m not so much mad as I am extremely disappointed . . . in all of you. What a bunch of . . . ”
“Fuck ups?” she offered.
“Took the words right out of my mouth.”
And at that moment, Grandma Dee entered to tell us cheerily that dinner was ready.
“I’m leaving.”
Grandma Dee grabbed me. “Honey, I know this is hard for you. We haven’t been together in such a long time and I want you to get to know George a little bit. Please, at least stay for dinner.”
I have trouble saying no to my Grandmas because they’ve always gone out of their way to make me happy.
“Didn’t
you
think I deserved the truth, Grandma?”
Mom spoke up. “Your grandmothers didn’t know much of it. Don’t punish them.”
So, she guilted me into staying for dinner. George pulled Grandma Dee’s chair out for her. They grinned like a teenagers in love—
oh, man, this is so
bizarre
.
My grandmas had put together my favorites: chicken, mashed potatoes, corn, cole slaw, fruit salad, and lemon meringue pie. I picked at my food while George told lame jokes, and laughed at all the stupid stories my family told about me—like the time I asked my first grade teacher how long it took to grow boobies that big. So, I thought I’d give it back to the old boy while mom and the grandmas were in the kitchen serving up the pie. I sat back in my chair and looked him in the eye.
“So, George, what exactly are your intentions with Dee?”
He looked caught off guard, but replied, “Why, she’s a very fine lady and we are having the time of our lives.”
“So how did you two meet?”
“My neighbor introduced us. She works in your grandmother’s store and I stopped by one afternoon to say hello.”
“You mean Crystal?”
“Yes, Crystal.”
“What’s she like anyway? You hear strange bumps and noises coming from her house, visitors coming and going?”
“What are you insinuating? She’s a fine, respectable woman.”
“Oh, I heard she talks to spirits and gives palm readings or something.”
An indignant look spread across his face. “Certainly not.”
My thought was he might be doing Crystal. “Are you using protection?”
Having just taken a swig of his wine, George had an awful coughing fit. Grandma Dee came out to ask him if he was okay and pat his back. After it subsided, she went back into the kitchen.
“Sorry, George,” I said. “I’m just messing with you.”
He smiled faintly.
“Seriously though, condoms aren’t just to prevent pregnancy, there are diseases out there you don’t want to share with the golden girls.”
He mumbled something that included the word “monogamous” and excused himself to the restroom.
After dessert, Grandma Dee insisted we played a few hands of blackjack so they could practice.
Practice
my ass . . . they cleaned our clocks.
“Are you two living at the casino?” I asked.
“We take the senior citizen bus every Friday to the Grand Casino in Mille Lacs,” Grandma Dee said proudly.
“Terrific,” I said wondering how much of her savings she’d gambled away.
Shortly after, George and Dee excused themselves—they were playing in a blackjack tournament at the Senior Center in Brainerd.
That’s when my Mom handed me an envelope. I was a bit taken aback when I saw an insurance check in the amount of $750,000.
Next, she handed me a large, stuffed manila envelope. I pulled out an envelope postmarked 1982 that appeared to have been opened and re-glued.
Good grief
.
“I’ll read these at home. I’m taking off.”
“You’re leaving so soon?” my mother asked.
“I stayed for dinner to spend time with my grandmothers and now I really don’t care to be around you.”
“Well, you did get a surprise today.”
“That’s what you call it? A surprise? I’d call it a fucking mind-blowing revelation . . . and not in a good way.”
“Oh.”
I shook my head and headed for the door.
“I’ve packed leftovers for you,” Grandma Sylvia said.
“Thanks.” I grabbed the bag of food, called Bullet, and left. I seriously didn’t know if I’d ever get over this deception.
Chapter 12
I
was two miles from Gull
Lake when I turned around and headed to Brainerd to Grandma Sylvia’s house. I found Patrick in the living room watching television in my grandpa’s old recliner. He looked surprised as I walked in sat down on the couch. Bullet walked off sniffing and exploring. I threw the check down on the coffee table.
“I don’t want your money,” I said.
“Don’t punish yourself for what I did. It’s yours. Grace wanted you to have it.”
“I guess you were supposed to help with the big announcement.”
“That Grace passed?”
“Ah, no—that you were my sperm donor.”
“Well, I
was
shocked Hope had never told you. It would have furthered her case against me.”
“It slipped her mind.” A few seconds of silenced passed before I added, “This afternoon she gave me all the cards you sent me when I was a kid. First, I knew about them.”
“She told me she was going to. I understand why she kept them from you.”
“Isn’t that big of you? What I want to know is why you thought a card a year was enough?”
Patrick winced. “You’re right . . . it wasn’t. This may sound like an excuse, but when we tried to call and talk to you, we were threatened and told never to call again. Then they changed to an unlisted number.”
“Here’s the thing. If I have children, nothing will ever separate them from me. Nothing. It was your Goddamn choice to leave the state and not fight for me. So, don’t give me anymore of that ‘I tried’ shit.”
Bullet came to nudge me with his head. I stroked his head and told him it was okay.
Patrick held his hands as if in prayer. “You’re absolutely right, but I knew a custody battle wouldn’t be good for anyone.”
“You knew you’d lose. Statutory rape and all that.” I was firing below the belt and it felt good.
“Maybe, but we also knew it would have devastated Hope.”
“Yeah, you were thinking of Hope the whole time you fucked her under-aged sister.”
He shook his head. “I must be a monster in your eyes.”
I nodded, “Yeah. Child molesters are.”
We sat in silence for a few moments before I said, “You all handled this just about as poorly as three people could. You know that?”
“I do. We tried to find you when you were college age, but no one would give out your information.”
“About that time, I’d thought about trying to find Grace. I’d asked mom if she knew where she was. She said she didn’t. I had no desire to find my adoptive father who deserted us.”
We sat in uncomfortable silence for a time before Patrick said, “ I drove out to the cemetery today to see my dad and Hank’s graves.”
“You didn’t come to either funeral,” I said accusingly.
“Actually, I was here for Hank’s but your Grandpa Riggens convinced the cops I was going to kidnap you and had me thrown out of the town the morning before the funeral.”
“You were there?”
“You don’t remember that we talked at the funeral home the night before?”
“No. I probably blocked it out.”
“Well, we didn’t talk long before Hope spotted us and yanked you away. I have a lot of regrets, Cal. I never wanted to hurt Hope, but what I had with Grace was overpowering. She was my whole life—and now without her—I can hardly breathe.” He began sobbing. He cried for a good two minutes, but I couldn’t bring myself to comfort him.
When he stopped I said, “It’s hurts to be left, doesn’t it?”
He looked at me heavy-heartedly. “I have something for you,” he said. He left the room and came back with the briefcase and sat in the recliner. He pulled out a five-by seven headshot of two women and handed it to me.
“That’s Grace and your sister, Angelica, taken a couple years ago, before Grace got sick,” he said. “You can keep it.”
“I have a sister?”
Why hadn’t I thought about the possibility of a sibling?
“You didn’t know?”
“No.”
“You resemble each other. I hope you’ll agree to meet her some day.”
My cell phone rang. I looked on the display to see Naomi Moberg’s name.
I picked up. “Hi.”
“It’s Naomi. Hey, I need to get out of the house. Want to go to a movie tonight?”
“I’m still in Brainerd.”
Silence. “Oh, sorry to bother you.”
“No, no it’s fine. How about I drop by when I get back?”
“I’d like that,” she said.
After I’d hung up, I noticed an Angels’ baseball cap on the side table. It triggered a memory.
“I remember the three of us together,” I said.
He looked at me hopefully. “Yeah?”
“You, Grace, and me. It was a rainy day, Hank was napping, and Grace was reading a children’s book to me about a cap peddler who had all his caps stolen by monkeys. She gathered a bunch of caps and stacked them on my head and when you came home, we showed you our game and you joined in. We all fell to the floor, rolling around, and laughing. There was something very intimate about that day and I never told mom about it. I think it was the next day I saw you in bed together. I told mom. Why didn’t I tell her about the caps instead?”
Tears rolled down his cheeks. He took out a handkerchief and wiped them away. “I’m sorry,” he said. He leaned down and reached into the briefcase then pulled out an envelope and handed it to me. “This is from Grace. She wrote this when she knew she wasn’t going to make it. I was going to give it to you after dinner when your mom and I talked to you.”
“What did she die of?”
“She had an aggressive form of breast cancer called metaplastic carcinoma. It had already metastasized by the time she was diagnosed.”
“I’m sorry for your loss.” And at that moment, even though I didn’t really know Grace, I felt a loss too.
“I hope you’ll agree to meet your sister. Both of you are innocent in this thing. She’s studying in London this year, but she’ll be back in May.”
“I’m truly overwhelmed by all of this shit.”
“Cal, we won’t pressure you.” He reached for the insurance money envelope and stood to hand it to me. “Look, this money sure as hell doesn’t remove the guilt we all share in hurting you. I just think you deserve something.”
Both envelopes in hand, I said good-bye, not knowing if I’d ever see him again. He moved in for an awkward hug, and I didn’t stop him but didn’t reciprocate.
He got tears in his eyes again. “Do you have someone special in your life?”
Adriana flashed through my mind. “No,” I said.
“Don’t settle for anyone that doesn’t knock your socks off.”
“I find it amusing—you giving me relationship advice.” I stood. “I’m gonna take off.”
“Bye then,” he said, patting my back.
I whistled for Bullet. He came running and we left. On the drive back I muttered to myself the entire way. I couldn’t fucking believe my fucking family.
Not knowing how someone
as supremely groomed as Naomi felt about dogs, I dropped Bullet off at home and fed him, before I drove to her house.
When she opened the door my face must have revealed my emotional state because she said, “What’s wrong?”
“Bad day with the fam.”
“Come in.” When we were just inside the door she asked, “Beer or wine?
“Whatever you have, as long as it’s alcohol,” I said.
“Merlot all right?”
I nodded.
“Family gatherings can be a bitch,” she said.
“You have no idea.”
After she poured us both a generous glass of wine, we went into her living room and back into the seventies—gold brocade matching chair and couches that looked brand new.
“New vintage couches?”
“I pulled off the plastic after Mom died. I hate them, but I can’t afford to buy all new furniture yet.”
Naomi picked up the remote and turned off one of those Jersey housewives’ shows. She put her wine glass on the glass coffee table, sat on the couch, tucking one leg under her. She patted the sofa and said, “Take a load off. You look like you need to talk.”
I sat next to her and said, “I almost don’t know where to begin.”
“Doesn’t matter. Just start. I’m a good listener.”
“Okay, today I found out my adoptive father, Patrick, is also my biological father. You see, when he was married to Hope, he knocked-up my biological mother, Grace, who was seventeen at the time. Hope didn’t know Patrick was the father and when Grace couldn’t take care of me, they adopted me.”
“Hope is your aunt and your adoptive mother?”
“Yes. Patrick was maybe twenty-four at the time. Anyway, four years later his marriage is in trouble because he and Grace are still madly in love. I catch them in bed, tell my mom, and she throws him out. Grace and he take off for California. My grandparents disown them. Hope prevents them from contacting me. Now Grace has died and Patrick shows up to visit his mother—my grandmother—and they all thought it would be grand to surprise me with his presence and the truth.”
“For real?”
“How could I make that shit up?”
“Why didn’t Hope tell you before this?”
“She was afraid she’d lose me.”
“Some things are difficult and risky to share, but that’s freaking ridiculous!”
I laughed. “It is, isn’t it?”
She picked up her glass. “Here’s to having ridiculous parents.”
“Here, here. So did you go to a movie?”
“Nah, I needed a good cry, so I rented
Titanic
.”
“Cheery flick. Why did you need a good cry?”
She laughed. “Life sucks sometimes. Are you hungry?”
“Not in the slightest.”
“Know what I hungry for?” she asked.
“What?”
She crawled over to me and straddled my lap. “You.”
One minute later we were in her bed. After, we lay entangled—sweaty and panting. There was nothing gentle about what we just did.
“Wow. It’s been a long time since I’ve had sex like that!” she said.
“Too much?”
“Oh no, it was perfect.” We lay there for a time, then she sat up and said, “I can’t get over your family lying to you like that.”
“I asked my mom about Grace once and she said family wasn’t as important to Grace as she was to herself.”
“Well, considering she screwed her sister’s husband, I’d say that’s probably accurate.”
“Patrick should have known better to mess with her. She was young.”
“Look, at seventeen, Grace knew what she was doing. At that age I was all over my boyfriend. If I’d have gotten knocked up, it wouldn’t have been his fault.”
“I like your honesty.”
“I tell it like it is.”
I patted her flat belly and said, “And I’m sorry to leave you, but I have a dog to take care of. You like dogs?”
“My folks never wanted pets and I guess I never craved them like other kids.”
I think that meant Bullet wasn’t invited over. No big deal. He couldn’t go to Adriana’s either because pets weren’t allowed in her building. I got dressed, went back to my place, and took Bullet out again and then stared at the phone with the message indicator blinking. I ignored it. I knew who had called. I picked up the two envelopes I’d left on the table, grabbed a beer, and got up the nerve to pry open the letter from Grace.
It was dated last August 15th on my thirtieth-first birthday.
My Dear Cal,
If you are reading this letter it means that I am gone. I want to apologize to you for so many things: the first was going along with the decision not to raise you myself. My only excuse was that I was young and easily swayed by my parents who said I was too young for such a responsibility. When you were born, I was barely eighteen and really didn’t know how I was going to take care of you.
My memories of baby-sitting you are my only consolation.
When your dad decided that his marriage wasn’t working and that he needed to separate from Hope, we decided to leave the state and not have our love thrown in Hope’s face every time she saw us together. I cried all the way out to California.
Over the years when I tried to talk to you, my father rejected my phone calls. He told me to stop calling for your sake. I started to think he was right, but now I know I shouldn’t have listened. I know I hurt Hope very much. Your dad and I didn’t mean to fall in love, and after you were born, we tried to fight it. But as Hope and Patrick were unable to work through their difficulties and save their marriage, we realized we couldn’t stay apart. It was selfish I know but we’ve had a wonderful marriage. I only wish we had been able to have you with us as part of our family. I am grateful to Hope for taking you and loving you as her own child. I’m not expecting you to forgive me, Cal. I wanted to see you grown up before I die, but now I’m afraid I’m too weak to travel.
My beautiful boy, I have loved and missed you my whole life.
Grace
My face felt strangely cool. I touched my cheek and found it wet with tears and then a came the crush of sadness. I cried for all that never was . . .
Later, I opened the manila envelope containing the letters. I pulled them all out and, using the postmarks, sorted them by dates—August of 1982 through August of 1999. Inside the first was a child’s birthday card with Mickey Mouse on it. Enclosed was a short letter and another smaller envelope containing a fifty-dollar savings bond. In the letter Patrick said he had moved to California and wanted me to come out for a visit so he could take me to Disneyland. He went on to say he loved and missed me and hoped I was doing okay.
All the envelopes contained a birthday card, letter, and a savings bond, which gradually increased in value, along with the sophistication of the cards through the years. If I’d received the August of 1989 letter, I would have discovered I had a new sister named Angelica. She was now twenty-three.
The mature bond value totaled $58,500. Obviously, Patrick and Grace had done well financially. I thought about my family, the one I lived with and the one I didn’t dare to even think about when I was a child. What would my life have been like if Grace and Patrick had taken me with them? What if I’d known my little sister all these years? Not giving a kid his dad’s letters was a shitty thing to do.