Three Black Swans (19 page)

*  *  *

Allegra Candler entered the living room/kitchen. Her husband was at the computer. She waltzed over and kissed his bald spot. It was so cute. Every year he was cuter. Whereas she, every year, had to wear more makeup and now had to have her hair colored because of the appalling gray that had begun to
appear years too early. She was sure Ned had no idea she colored her hair.

Over his shoulder, she scanned the list of e-mails. “Boyd wrote?” she cried. She adored Boyd, even though Boyd was on his third wife, which cramped their friendship, since wife number one had been Allegra’s college roommate.

“Oh, you know Boyd,” said her husband. “Always forwarding something nobody cares about.”

Allegra turned toward the coffee and there stood Vivi. “Darling, I love the outfit. It doesn’t look like your average Saturday morning. Where are you headed?”

“A bunch of us are going into the city.”

If Allegra never went into New York City again, it would be fine.

“Metropolitan Museum,” her husband added.

Allegra worked in the heart of Manhattan, but never did anything except shop. She was just barely acquainted with the names of museums, never mind the contents. “Do you have enough money, Vivi?” she asked. “Do you have an umbrella?”

Genevieve waved a small collapsible black umbrella.

“Have a good time.” Allegra took Ned’s place at the computer. Before checking her own e-mail, which was bound to have something depressing from work, she clicked Boyd’s message. Boyd could always dig up something fun.

Allegra followed the link.

A
S ALWAYS, HER
parents’ thoughts were elsewhere. Ned was staring at the rain, Allegra at her e-mail. If my parents are sorry they adopted me, thought Genevieve, I have no hope. I will never be closer to them and they will never be closer to me.

For a moment it was hard to stand up straight.

Her father’s cell phone rang. He began talking in the loud voice he used only on the cell, as if his model were deficient at carrying sound. “I know!” Ned shouted. “The rain! I don’t know what I’m going to do all day long! Okay, that would be great! But first I have to drive my daughter to the train station.”

A few hours from now, she thought, all three adoptions will be exposed. Three sets of parents will have to admit the truth, if they haven’t already. The evidence is visible. There will be scrutiny from every relative, neighbor and stranger. Maybe even from the media.

What if her parents had even
less
use for Genevieve once the truth came out?

She was zipping a granola bar into her handbag when her mother made a strange sound. Genevieve turned to see Allegra
scrambling away from the computer, almost tipping the chair over. Her face was distorted, her cheek twitching. “No!” said her mother thickly, batting at the computer screen as if mice were popping out of it.

“What’s wrong?” demanded Ned. “Gotta go,” he said into his phone.

“Nothing’s wrong!” shouted Allegra, closing the screen. She whirled to face her husband and daughter. She looked like a shoplifter caught by store security. “Vivi, when are you leaving? Ned, get her to the station.” Allegra swept them toward the door. “Have a good time, Vivi.”

“You’re really in a tizzy, Legs,” teased her husband. “Mid-level managers are not allowed to have a tizzy. What did Boyd send, anyway?”

It must have been Missy’s video, thought Genevieve. That’s Boyd’s role in life—finding crazy stuff, sending it on. My mother just saw two girls who look exactly like me. She just heard Missy claim that she and Claire are identical twins. Mom thinks I don’t know. She’s trying to hide the video from me. She’s trying to protect me.

How sweet is that?

Genevieve checked her watch. She had a few minutes to spare. “I’ve seen the video, Mom,” she said gently. “I saw it two days ago. Don’t worry. I’m okay with it.”

Allegra gasped, then crumpled. “Oh, Vivi,” sobbed her mother. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

Sorry about what? Adoption was not the end of the world. It was just a different way to set up a world.

Ned frowned. He walked back to the computer, bent over it and clicked, standing until he had brought up Boyd’s attachment.

Allegra found a tissue. From the careful way she blotted her eyes, her main concern was her mascara. This was good. Her mother was returning to normal. Appearances first.

I love her, thought Genevieve, slightly surprised. I love them both, just the way they are.

Something hard in Genevieve vanished.

*  *  *

Missy’s train pulled out. The train originated in Stamford, and though it had many stops to make before it reached New York, already the car was half full. Missy tried to save a seat for Claire, but a man talking loudly into his cell phone sat down, flapping his newspaper against her.

Scenery changed swiftly from corporate landscape to golf course, wonderfully green from the rain. At the Old Greenwich station, a swarm of riders got on, with the eager, pleased expressions of people going into the city for fun. The wheels of the train clacked like a song in a picture book. The train stopped in Riverside. Cos Cob. Greenwich. Port Chester. The next stop was the likeliest for Claire.

Get on, get on! Missy prayed.

She had only a partial view of the platform. Was Claire there?

I need you, Clairedy. You need me. You have to come. You can’t sit home and watch television.

The train departed. Missy sat tall, making herself visible. She looked up and down the aisle for the black-haired, black-eyed cousin who was her identical twin.

Triplet, she corrected herself.

But Claire did not appear.

*  *  *

Ned sat down so hard on the wooden chair that Genevieve expected its legs to snap. “I didn’t know,” he whispered. “
I didn’t know
. Who could have known? They’re identical. Look at them.” He played the video again, pausing it exactly where Genevieve had: identical black-haired, black-eyed girls staring at each other, one with joy and one in shock.

“People will know.” Allegra’s voice broke.

This was Allegra’s big worry? Who cared if people knew?

For once think of me first! thought Genevieve. I’m your daughter! Well, no. Actually, I’m not.

She looked at her watch again. She was not going to make the train. Her heart seized up. I can take the next one, she told herself, trembling. Nothing is ruined. I’ll text Missy. She’ll be okay waiting at Grand Central.

On Saturdays, trains ran hourly. Genevieve would give her parents a few minutes and then walk to the station, no matter how hard it was raining. She was not telling them why she was going into the city. Her sisters were none of their business. “The moment I saw the video, Mom, I realized that I’m a
triplet separated at birth and separately adopted. Don’t be upset. I’d rather be your daughter by blood, but adoption doesn’t change who we are. You’re still my parents.” Genevieve felt as if she were quoting a book on how to be well-adjusted. In fact, in her opinion, adoption changed one hundred percent of who they were.

In particular, it changed who her great-grandmother was.

Genevieve’s hope in life was to be as fine a woman as her great-grandmother. The list of GeeGee’s virtues was long. Genevieve liked to think that she had inherited some of her great-grandmother’s traits, even the same jaw and the same hands.

No.

“Adoption!” cried Allegra, as if this were a new and thrilling word. “Yes!” she said firmly to her husband. “Genevieve is adopted.”

“Adopted,” repeated her father, sounding confused.

For this she had missed her train? Genevieve was beside herself. Only Ned and Allegra could construct a life built on a lie, and then allow the lie to become so real they forgot about it. A moment ago she had loved them again. Now she despised them again. “You adopted me because GeeGee wanted the next generation of Candlers. You wanted to cozy up to her. Uncle Alan said that was the only reason you had a kid. He was right, wasn’t he? You don’t even like children! You adopted me to inherit GeeGee’s money.”

“No,” said her father. “You’re mistaken, Vivi.”

“I’m not mistaken! It’s all about money with you two! Uncle Alan told me this summer that I’m just as conniving as you are.”

“You’ve never connived in your life,” said Ned. “You are a good person. I’m not sure where you got it from. Your mother and I have not set fine examples.”

Genevieve didn’t want excuses. She didn’t want denials. She didn’t even want details. She wanted to meet Missy. “Take me to the station, Dad. Now. Please. We can talk later. You guys work out your story, make sure your versions match and let me know what lies you’ve picked when I get home tonight. I have to catch the train.”

Her father had the nerve to look angry. “Nothing in the city matters right now, Vivi. Let’s sit down. There’s a lot to cover.”

“No, Ned,” said Allegra.

Genevieve flourished her umbrella. “I have to go into the city.”

“It’s more important to see some silly art exhibit than talk with your mother and father about your birth?” snapped Ned.

“If the circumstances of my birth mattered, you would have discussed them long ago. I have an appointment. I’m keeping it.” Her father spent his life going to appointments and rarely, if ever, put Genevieve ahead of them. Genevieve opened her cell phone to text Missy.

“What are you doing?” demanded her father. “What is the matter with girls your age? Why do you have to text every single minute to every single person? Put that thing down!”

“People are expecting me. I don’t want them to worry. You’ve had sixteen years to mention this. It can wait another thirty
seconds.” Genevieve texted:
Parent trouble. Taking later train. Will send arrival time ASAP.

Just communicating with Missy lifted Genevieve’s heart. It was only an hour. She could last one more hour.

*  *  *

I’m an idiot, thought Claire. Certifiable. They put people like me in institutions.

Missy and Genevieve will attach to each other, the way a few days ago Missy and I were attached. The rest of my life will consist of two sisters courteously accommodating a third.

Claire dressed faster than she ever had in her life, called the taxi from her cell phone, yanked on pants and fastened buttons at lightning speed. She was lucky. There was a free taxi and it was on the way. This was not always the case; her town had few taxis. She opened her stash of cash from birthday and Christmas presents, poured it into her purse and dashed out the front door, irritated by the time it took to lock up.

She stood on the curb, ready to wave the minute she spotted the taxi, so the driver would see which house. She was not wearing her usual bright colors. In New York, the color of choice was black. Claire and Missy didn’t even own black, which did not favor them. Claire had chosen a pair of expensive tailored khaki pants, a white long-sleeved shirt and a pale beige jacket. Clothing covered all but her fingertips. She turned the shirt collar up and left her hair down, so even her throat and ears were invisible.

I’m the color of a sand dune, she thought. I should change. Put on orange or pink or lemon or turquoise or all at once.

But it was too late. The taxi appeared. Claire flung herself into the backseat. “Railroad station, please. I’m afraid I’m going to miss my train.”

“You taking the nine-twenty-three?”

“Yes.”

“Your only hope is that it’s running late. That happens pretty often, though, so cross your fingers.”

Claire crossed her fingers. Missy is going to meet Genevieve so they can merge, she thought. I’m going so I can hang on to Missy.

She let a call from her mother go to voice mail. Claire knew exactly what it was about. The Saturday morning Jazzercise classes included Aiden’s mother. Aiden would have shared the video with his parents because that was how kids lived: sharing videos. Mom had been ambushed.

Good! thought Claire, astonished at the breadth and depth of her anger. You let
me
be ambushed! You didn’t care if
I
was out here without the truth!

The taxi was almost at the station. Claire could see the train, but it was hopeless. Even if they had had a green light, there were three cars between them and the intersection. They watched the train pull out. “I have to get to Grand Central.” Her voice was trembling. “Can you drive me all the way into Manhattan?”

“I don’t usually drive into the city. Is this a matter of life and death?” He was smiling a little.

“Almost.”

“We can race the train,” said the taxi driver, “and try to beat it to the next station. Odds are against us. But we’ll be able to see how we’re doing because the railroad parallels the thruway. Want to try?”

“Yes. I have the money. Go for it.”

The cabdriver cut through traffic, leaning on his horn, taking risks and reaching the on-ramp of the turnpike.

It was like a movie. They caught up to the train, and began to pass it. It was going around fifty, while the taxi was doing seventy. Missy was only a few hundred yards to the right of Claire. Claire almost waved. “We’re going to make it!” she shouted.