The Silent Sister

We had a few more quiet sips of coffee.

“Did you remember who you had me mixed up with?” I asked after a while. “When you thought I was adopted?

“Oh, you’re not still thinking about that, are you?” she said. “I should have kept my fool mouth shut. And it doesn’t matter, does it, Riley?” she asked. “Adopted or not, you had wonderful parents and you turned out fine.”

“You sound like you still think I was?”

She looked toward the creek, breathing loudly enough for me to hear. “I’m going to tell you something, Riley,” she said, very slowly, as though her head and her mouth were not in agreement about what she had to say. “I don’t know what your parents would think of me telling you this, but I’m a firm believer in knowing the truth about where you come from. I like to think your father would have done it at some point, but then he waited too long.”

“What are you talking about?” I asked.

“We told Luke right from the start that he was adopted,” she said. “He looked for his birth parents when he was nineteen, with our blessing. We felt we should be totally open with him about it. No secrets. I know your parents felt differently, but—”

“Verniece!” I said, exasperated. I was beginning to think Tom Kyle was right about her lost marbles.

She looked up at the sky through the canopy of trees and let out a long sigh. “Do you want to know the truth?” she asked.

I felt a chill run up my back. “Yes,” I said, “though I think I do know the truth. I mean, I still think you have my family mixed up with someone else.”

She scratched her cheek, slowly. Thoughtfully. She looked out toward the creek again. “I met Tom in 1980 when I was thirty-two years old,” she said. “I was a police dispatcher in Maryland back then. Now that was a job!” She gave me a rueful smile. “We were married a year later and immediately started trying to have a baby. It took a while for us to get pregnant and we were thrilled, but I miscarried right at twelve weeks.”

“I’m sorry.” I had no idea where she was going with this.

“I got pregnant again and miscarried again. Five times, Riley.” She looked at me, the pain of those miscarriages still in her eyes. “It was a nightmare. I finally carried a baby to term, only to have her be stillborn.”

“Oh, no,” I said, trying to imagine it. “What a terrible blow for you.”

“Terrible doesn’t begin to describe it,” she said. “I met your mother right after it happened. There was some function … your father and Tom worked together, did you know that?”

“No,” I said. “Tom worked for the U.S. Marshals Service?”

“Uh-huh.”

“I didn’t even know my father did until I met with his lawyer.”

“Really?” she said. “Your family…” She shook her head. “Not very open with one another, were they?”

I started to speak, but didn’t know what to say. It seemed she was right.

“Well, anyhow,” she continued, “Tom and your father worked together, and there was … I don’t remember exactly what it was—a big picnic or some outdoor get-together that was important for us to attend. Tom had trouble dragging me out of the house. I was extremely depressed after the stillbirth and could barely function. But for some reason, I went with him. Your father was his supervisor and I think there was some expectation everybody turn out for this”—she waved her hand through the air—“this picnic or whatever it was. Oh! It was a retirement party for one of the marshals. This would have been ’88. Or I guess ’89. Anyway, there were lawn chairs and I ended up sitting next to your mother, who I didn’t know very well at all, and all I could do was cry. She was a very kind woman, and when she saw how upset I was, she took my hand and walked me away from the crowd and we sat under a tree and I told her everything and sobbed and sobbed. And sobbed some more. She had a lot of sympathy. Empathy’s a better word for it. A lot of empathy. She held my hand while we talked. I was a stranger to her, but you know how women can sometimes get close very quickly.”

I nodded, suddenly choked up. I missed my mother.

“After I’d told her everything, she asked me if we’d consider adoption and I said we were too old, but she shook her head. And that’s when she told me.”

“Told you what?”

“That she and your father had wanted more children because there was such a gap between your older brother and sister. They wanted Danny to have a sibling. But they weren’t getting pregnant. Then they looked into private adoption and found a baby girl being put up for adoption here in North Carolina and they were able to get her. Get you.”

Was she crazy? Or could she possibly be right? “This doesn’t make any sense.” I tried to keep my voice calm, but I felt it rising.

“She gave me hope. She said they planned to tell you when you were old enough to understand, but it sounds like they never got around to it. It never occurred to me that you still didn’t know.”

“This is insane,” I said, but I was more aware than ever before of my dark hair and dark eyes.

“I’m so sorry if I’ve upset you, Riley. The last thing I’d want to do is turn your world upside down. But like I said, it doesn’t really matter if—”

“Are you absolutely sure it wasn’t someone else you talked to that day? That it was my mother?”

“Honey, I’ll never forget your mother. Not even a year after that day, she lost your sister and they moved down here. They were running away, coming down here, but you can’t run away from some things.” She shook her head. “You don’t forget a woman who went through something like that.”

“I’m still having trouble believing this,” I said. I didn’t believe it. My parents had not been the most open people in the world, but I couldn’t imagine them keeping this from me.

“Do you wish I hadn’t told you?” Verniece looked worried. “Tom said I should butt out.”

“No, I’m glad you told me. I just…” I gave my head a shake, trying to clear away the crazy doubts that were filling it. “I’m still not sure it was my mother you were talking to.”

She smiled. “I understand,” she said. “I’m sure I’d feel the same way if I were you. But it was, Riley. I can promise you that.”

* * *

I felt nauseous as I walked back to my car. The scent of bacon still clung to that one spot along the gravel lane and this time I rushed to get past it. I was nearly to my father’s trailer when I spotted Tom walking toward me, carrying his fishing rod and basket.

“Hi, Mr. Kyle,” I said when he was close enough to hear. “I have a question for you.”

“What’s that?” he asked. He had a stubble of gray beard I hadn’t noticed the other day and he looked no happier to see me now than he had then.

“My father was paying you five hundred dollars a month,” I said. “What was that for?”

“Doesn’t matter now,” he said. He started to walk past me and I could smell beer on him, as I had the other day. I wondered how much of a problem he had with alcohol.

“Tom?” I said, and he turned around, looking at me without a word.

“Do you think I was adopted?”

He scowled. “You need to stay away from here,” he said. “Stay away from Verniece. She’s not in her right mind and it upsets her, seeing you.”

“What are you talking about?” I almost shouted. “If anyone should be upset, it should be me.”

“Just stay away, all right? For your own good.”

I opened my mouth to speak again, but he’d already turned away, leaving me with many more questions than answers.




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