Sisters (2 page)

Her first weekend at home she was invited to the annual neighborhood Christmas party. At first she said no, but her parents’ old friends and neighbors pleaded with her to come. The night of the party she dawdled until it was almost too late, but finally ran across the street, coatless, avoiding the mounds of snow, and arrived, shivering, at the front door of this year’s hostess.

‘Alex!’ cried Laney Thompson as she enveloped Alex in a tight, reassuring hug. ‘I’m so glad you came. Oh, look who came to see you!’

Alex felt something brush against her legs. She looked down and saw her parents’ calico cat, Castro, rubbing lightly against her.

Immediately her eyes filled with tears. She knew that Laney had taken the cat after their death. She had been grateful for Laney’s offer, since she was living in Seattle at the time and her apartment building forbade pets. But seeing the cat again brought back sweet, painful memories.

Alex crouched down and rubbed Castro around the ruff of his neck. ‘Hi, buddy,’ she whispered. ‘Remember me? How ya doin’?’

‘He’s doing fine,’ said Laney. ‘He’s made himself right at home. But if you want him back . . .’

‘No, no,’ said Alex. ‘That’s OK. He seems happy here.’

‘Well, if you change your mind, you know you can just tell me,’ said Laney. ‘Now, stop fiddling with that cat and come say hello. There’s a lot of people here who want to see you.’

Alex quickly wiped her eyes, stood up and took a deep breath. Laney squeezed her hand for courage, and then led Alex through the cheerful, crowded house which smelled of pine boughs and cinnamon. She placed a punch glass in Alex’s hand, and stayed beside her as neighbors came to kiss her and make her welcome.

‘Do you remember Seth?’ Laney asked as a tall man wearing a tweed jacket over a black T-shirt approached them. He had wavy, uncombed dark brown hair and dark eyes behind black-rimmed glasses. ‘He teaches out at the University of Chicago.’

Alex nodded, although it had been years since she had even spoken to Seth Paige or his older sister, Janet. They had both been out of high school by the time Alex got there. She had seen them at neighborhood parties over the years. Janet, now a mother of two, had come, with her father, to her parents’ funeral. ‘Sure, how are you, Seth?’ Alex asked.

‘I’m fine,’ he said. ‘I wanted to tell you how sorry I was about your parents. I couldn’t make it back from Chicago for the funeral, but Janet and my dad told me about it.’

‘Thank you,’ said Alex, stiffening. She didn’t want to talk about her parents’ death. It was one of the reasons why she had tried to avoid the party. ‘Home for Christmas?’ she asked brightly.

‘My dad had surgery and he needed someone to look after him. It was semester break and Janet has to spend Christmas with her in-laws in Virginia so . . . I was elected.’

‘Is he OK?’ Alex asked. ‘Your dad?’

‘Getting better,’ said Seth, nodding. ‘So, are you back to stay?’ he asked.

Alex shrugged. ‘I’m going to look for a job in Boston. I just got my masters in arts administration.’

‘You’re looking for a museum job?’

‘Museums, galleries . . .’

‘Like your dad, eh? You know, your dad helped me out a lot when I was working on my dissertation,’ Seth said. ‘He was a walking encyclopedia when it came to the American Revolution. And a great guy as well.’

Alex felt the tears welling up and nodded. ‘Yes, well, thanks. It was nice to see you again.’ She smiled blindly and turned away from him, pretending to look at the food table. When he began to talk to someone else, she set her punch glass down on the table and headed for the front door. On her way out, she thanked Laney, dismissing her protests that she should stay. She hurried back across the street and into the safety of the house. It’s the holiday, she told herself, as she turned out the front porch lights. It makes everything harder.

She had been home for one week when the phone rang and the caller, a woman, asked to speak to Alex Woods. ‘This is she,’ said Alex.

‘I’m calling from John Killebrew’s office. Mr Killebrew was your parents’ attorney.’

‘Yes, I know,’ said Alex. ‘I met with him when I was home for their funeral.’

‘Mr Killebrew would like you to come into the office. He has something to discuss with you.’

Alex felt vaguely guilty and wondered if there were legal matters which she had left unattended. It had been so difficult these last two semesters at school, summer and fall to try and focus on her work and make decisions about her parents’ estate as well. She had not inherited a lot besides the house, but there were several bank accounts and insurance, as well as a few outstanding debts. As her parents’ executor, Uncle Brian had handled most of it. But he had been scrupulous about asking her opinion in every matter. ‘All right,’ she said.

‘Shall we say tomorrow at ten?’ the secretary asked brightly.

Alex looked around at the piles of belongings still unsorted, the half-empty boxes on the dining room table. ‘OK. Ten o’clock,’ she said.

John Killebrew’s office was in a Victorian house in the center of Chichester, the town where Alex grew up. She had often passed that house lugging her books on her way to the high school, never dreaming that in less than ten years she would be entering that office, orphaned, and trying to cope with the myriad financial and legal matters that attended the sudden loss of both her parents.

Thanks to Uncle Brian, much of it had been handled over the last six months. She had come to this office twice to sign a lot of legal documents when she was back here for the funeral, and Uncle Brian had taken care of the rest. There were probably only some details to discuss. She walked up to the bespectacled, middle-aged receptionist in the hushed office, which resembled an English gentlemen’s club. ‘I’m Alex Woods,’ she said.

The receptionist smiled at her kindly. ‘I know who you are,’ she said. ‘He told me to send you in when you arrived. Go right ahead. It’s the door at the end of the hall.’

‘I know where it is,’ said Alex. ‘Thanks.’

‘I’ll let him know you’re here.’

The gray-haired attorney arose from his chair and came around to shake Alex’s hand. ‘Have a seat,’ he said, indicating a maroon leather chair in front of his desk. Alex sat down.

‘How’s it going?’

Alex shrugged. ‘I’m trying to clean out the house. It’s a difficult process.’

‘I’m sure it is,’ said the attorney.

‘I didn’t know whether you might want my uncle to be here,’ said Alex. ‘With him being the executor of my parents’ estate.’

‘No, no,’ said Killebrew, shaking his head somberly. ‘There’s no need for that. This isn’t actually . . . about the estate.’

Alex frowned at him. ‘It isn’t?’

‘No, Alex.’ He folded his arms over his chest and frowned. ‘I have something to give you.’ He reached across his desk, picked up an envelope and handed it to her.

Alex immediately recognized the neat, bookkeeper’s handwriting. ‘From . . . my mother,’ she said.

John Killebrew nodded.

Alex was flustered. ‘Should I read it now?’

‘I think it might be a good idea,’ he said. ‘You may have some questions.’

Alex tore open the envelope with trembling hands and pulled out the sheet of paper. She began to read.

My darling girl,

If you are reading this, that means I am gone. I asked Mr Killebrew to keep this for me, in the event that I predeceased your father, and give it directly to you. I hope you will not think worse of me because of what I’m going to tell you. I feel sure that you will understand.

A long time ago, when I was still a teenager, I got pregnant. As you know, being a Catholic, abortion was really out of the question for me. Instead of going to college, I went away to a home for unwed mothers, had the baby and gave her up for adoption. I was told that she went to a good family. Second semester I enrolled at the university as planned. I got my degree, met your dad, and you know the rest.

After you were born, there were complications and it turned out that I couldn’t have any more children. I always regretted not being able to give you a brother or sister, and have been tormented by the knowledge that you actually have a sister whom you know nothing about. I’m afraid I can’t tell you anything about her, because it was a closed adoption. I often hoped that she would seek me out but, so far, she has not done so.

I don’t know what, if anything, you might want to do about this, but I didn’t want to leave this earth without letting you know that, somewhere, you have a sister.

Darling, if you want to try to find her, you have my blessing. If you decide to tell your father about the contents of this letter, that’s up to you. It must be your decision. I have chosen to keep it a secret all these years. He probably would have understood, just as I know that you will, but it was a secret I kept to myself. Still, I think that you have a right to know that your sister exists. I’m sure that you will do what’s best. I love you more than anything,

Mom

Alex read the letter again. Her heart was thudding and her hands were icy. Finally she looked up at the attorney. ‘Do you know about what this says?’ she asked.

John Killebrew nodded. ‘Yes, your mother confided in me, and she trusted me to use my judgment. She wanted, at least initially, for this information to stay between you and her.’

‘She never told my father,’ Alex said.

‘That’s correct. As it turned out, your father, obviously, did not survive her.’

‘No,’ said Alex.

‘I hope you understand why I chose not to give this to you immediately after your parents’ death. It seemed as if you had enough to cope with at the time.’

Alex stared down at the letter in her hands and nodded. ‘I appreciate that.’

‘I don’t know what you want to do about this . . .’ he said.

Alex shook her head. ‘I don’t either.’

‘Think it over,’ he said. ‘There’s no hurry to decide.’

‘Why didn’t she tell me?’ Alex cried.

‘I don’t know. I’m sure she had her reasons.’

‘I feel . . . blindsided.’ Alex’s voice sounded surly to her ears.

‘I’m sure you do, right now. But this could turn out to be a great consolation to you, Alex. A sister you never knew you had.’

‘I don’t want some sister I never knew,’ Alex replied angrily, tears springing to her eyes. ‘I want my parents back.’

John Killebrew watched her silently, knowing better than to remind her of the futility of that wish.

Alex brushed her tears away impatiently, and took a deep breath. ‘I’m sorry, Mr Killebrew. It’s not your fault. Look, if I did decide to try and find this . . . woman . . .’

‘I won’t lie to you. There are obstacles. In a closed adoption, only the adoptee is allowed to instigate a search for the birth family. But if you decide that you want to find your sister you can petition the court to have the records released, and see what the judge decides. We can help you with that.’

‘I don’t know,’ Alex said. She sat numbly in the chair, the letter dangling from her fingertips.

‘It’s a lot to absorb all at once,’ said the attorney. ‘Go home and think it over.’

As if I had any choice, she wanted to say. Instead she said, ‘I will.’

TWO

F
or three days, Alex found her thoughts gravitating to the sister she had never met. It was easier to ruminate about whether or not to search for this long-lost sister than to face directly the prospect of this first Christmas alone. As she hunted in the attic for wrapping paper, or tried, with sorry results, to replicate her mother’s toffee, Alex felt assaulted by the expectations of the season. She didn’t want to do any of it. She wanted to spend Christmas alone in a dark room, with a blanket over her head. But she knew that her aunt and uncle would never allow it. In their good-hearted way they were determined to include her, to remind her that she still had a family, even if she felt as if she didn’t. And she knew what her parents would want her to do. They would want her to try.

She avoided midnight Mass on Christmas Eve, and wore her robe and pajamas until Christmas afternoon. She fielded phone calls and texts and, at around two o’clock, was dismayed to hear a knock at the front door. She opened it a few inches and looked out, frowning. Seth Paige stood on the front step, holding a Christmas cookie tin and a bottle of wine.

He smiled, and then frowned as he realized she was in a robe and pajamas. He looked upset at the sight of her.

‘Merry Christmas,’ said Alex.

‘Are you . . . are you spending Christmas alone?’ he asked.

‘No,’ said Alex, pushing her hair out of her face. ‘I just . . . um . . . I just haven’t gotten dressed yet. What’s up?’

‘I brought you some Christmas cheer,’ he said, hoisting the wine bottle. ‘And some of these cookies. Janet went on a baking binge before she left town.’

Alex opened the door a little wider and accepted the wine and the cookies. ‘Do you want to come in?’ she asked in a discouraging tone.

Seth hesitated. ‘Yes,’ he said. ‘Just for a minute.’

Alex let him in and tightened the sash on her robe. She led him past the stack of boxes in the hallway into the living room. She sat down on the edge of a sofa cushion, the wine tucked in the crook of her arm, the cookie tin perched on her lap.

Seth sat down in a chair opposite her and rubbed his large hands together. ‘I wanted to come by because I felt bad about the other night. I was afraid that you might have left the party because of some stupid thing I said about your dad.’

Alex shook her head. ‘No, no. I wasn’t in a party mood,’ she said. ‘Actually, it was nice, what you said about Dad.’

‘Are you spending most of your time alone here?’ he asked, unable to keep the reproof out of his voice.

Alex sighed and looked around at the disorder. ‘Well, I’m trying to clean the house out. It’s really kind of solitary work, you might say.’

‘Tough going through everything,’ he said. He pushed his glasses automatically back up on his nose.