Something About Sophie (13 page)

“Adoptions aren't something we deal with routinely, but in a town this size we handle whatever comes in or we don't pay our mortgage. My father did agree to represent your parents legally, but he also explained that it was against the law for him to actively seek out a child for them. They either had to do that themselves—by advertising, by word of mouth inside their religious affiliation, something like that—or go through an adoption agency. He referred them to three separate agencies, listed there, as well as the local Department of Social Services.” He paused to recall what else he'd read earlier. “He also noted that your parents had no preference as to sex, race, or age—though, ideally the younger the better. My father suggested they get started on the home study, which is required in every state for every adoption, and can take several months to complete.”

“So . . . they were investigated.”

“Absolutely. And counseled and informed, and I'm sure they felt like they were being put through a ringer, but as I said before, adopting a child isn't taken lightly. By anyone. In fact, most of what you have in your hands there is a notarized copy of the social worker's report. Naturally, it was included as part of the adoption petition.” His eyes lit briefly as he came forward at his desk. “And that's where this case gets interesting.” He held up his hand to stop the alarm growing in her eyes. “Not,
not
illegal or unheard of or in any way shady . . . but mildly out of the ordinary in that it all happened at once. The adoption petition was filed and approved, and temporary custody awarded to your parents, all at the same time with the only stipulation being a six-month adjustment period before the adoption was finalized and your parents were allowed to take you out of the state.”

“Why?”

“Well, there's always some sort of waiting period—usually given to the birth parents, in case they change their minds.” He tipped his head. “But also for the adoptive parents, in case they change theirs.”

“No, I meant: Why was it done all at once? That's the out-of-the-ordinary part, right?”

“It is. But again, it's not unheard of,” he said patiently. “Under normal circumstances the birth parents aren't even allowed to consent to an adoption until the child is actually born, and typically then it's still three to four days before they can sign the consent forms. Even after that, there is a period of up to three months in which the birth parents can revoke their consent. Now, all this waiting and uncertainty can be extremely stressful on the adoptive parents who might be caring for and falling in love with a baby that could, at any time in that period, be taken from them and returned to the birth parents. In some states, the infant is automatically placed in foster care to prevent that sort of trauma. In the Commonwealth of Virginia there are choices. If the social worker for any reason feels the birth parents are shaky in their decision, they will recommend foster care and the judge will listen. On occasion the adoptive couple, for one reason or another, opts for foster care—usually they've been disappointed before. But for the most part, the adoptive parents take custody as soon as possible—while the ink's still drying on the consent forms.

“This is apparently what your parents did. And the fact that all the paperwork was filed and approved on the same day would indicate some sort of special circumstances.”

“Like what?”

“Oh, say, for instance, you were abandoned. The six months of temporary foster care that your parents agreed to would give your birth parents time to reconsider their decision and step forward. Barring that, it also gives the police and social services time to attempt to identify your birth parent or parents to obtain a medical history . . . and, of course, they could face criminal prosecution in the case of abandonment. We don't have a safe-haven law in this state as yet.” He hesitated. “Often in these cases, when the birth parents can't be found, the infants remain unadoptable—in a sort of legal limbo until permanent abandonment or deaths in absentia are lawfully declared.”

In a heartbeat, he reconsidered his next statement and nodded, letting it go. Unfortunately, Daniel Biggs was a moral man with a dismal poker face.

“But that wasn't the case with me, was it? I wasn't left in a basket somewhere, was I?”

He didn't hesitate again. “No. This copy of the petition to adopt indicates that consent forms were signed, but we'd need the original, sealed, adoption papers to see by whom.”

She nodded, confused. “So . . . that sort of negates the special circumstances you were talking about. They didn't abandon me or they did abandon me and were caught or came forward to sign the papers afterward . . .
or
the special circumstances could be something else entirely. Right? Does it matter? I mean, there was bound to be
some
sort of special circumstance, one way or another; but if we petition for these papers you say we need, my birth parents' names will still be on the consent . . . and on my original birth certificate. Right?”

He bobbled his head. “On the birth certificate, probably, but I suspect not on the consent.”

“Why . . . would you suspect not?” Too late, she was almost certain she didn't want to know and held up her hand. “Wait.” She looked at Drew for assurance that what she was about to hear wasn't going to ruin what she'd come to think of as a bright and promising future.

“Would you like me to leave? Give you some privacy?” Drew asked.

“No. Please stay. I'm . . .”

Afraid.
Very
afraid. And now he could see it in her eyes.

“You don't need to know any more. We can leave now. I'll buy you lunch at Miller's; drive you through the countryside. . . . We already know Arthur wasn't your father. And Hollis will understand. You know he will. The time, expense, and hassle—and the emotional cost of getting your birth records unsealed would be—”

“A waste,” the lawyer injected. They both turned their heads to stare at him in confusion. “A request for nondisclosure was signed.”

“By whom?” Drew asked—in it, now that he'd been invited.

“By whoever signed the adoption papers.”

“Why didn't you tell us this in the first place?” He was annoyed.

“I was getting to it. I want you to understand the process, to have an opportunity to ask questions.”

“
Whoever
, you said,” Sophie stated. She felt numb, like her skin was three inches thick and dampening any sensations coming her way. “Not my birth parents.”

“No. Your birth mother's legal guardian made the arrangements for the adoption and signed all the forms—and, I'm sorry to say, also blocked the easiest path to discovering the identity of your birth mother . . . and consequently the father, of course.”

“So there's nothing she can do, right?” Drew's voice was thick with relief.

“No. Well, yes. You can file for a release of non-identifying information. Depending on the details taken at the time of your birth, you can sometimes get a medical history and the status of the mother's health at the time. Ethnic origins, level of education, religion. Once in a while you can get the parents' ages at the time of delivery, the age and sex of other children, general geographic information of the birth, even the reasons for the adoption, if you're lucky. Whatever you get, if there's anything
to
get, can sometimes be very helpful in a search.”

Drew turned to look at her, brows raised. Did she want to pursue that angle? Did she want to search? But she was stuck on another question—and that moment of resistance she'd noted in the attorney's demeanor.

“My parents always knew she was a teenager. That's why she needed a guardian, right? Because she was a minor?” Her intonation made it a question, forcing him to divulge what he hadn't planned to volunteer.

“Not as a rule. Teenage parents can and are generally encouraged to voluntarily sign their own consent forms.” He inhaled heavily. “Unless your birth mother was under the age of twelve.” Sophie winced in horror and he rushed on to reassure her. “But that's not the only reason she might have a legal guardian. One would be required if her parental rights had been terminated by a court order—for . . . for long-term alcohol or drug abuse or abuse of other children in the household, sometimes incarceration or abandonment—like we talked about. Also, a parent who has been declared incompetent, and for some reason it's determined that restoration of competency is improbable, would need a guardian.”

“Like in a coma . . . or insane?”

His nod was slow. “I'm sorry, Sophie. Even in the best of circumstances, searching for your birth parents can be complicated . . .
or
a box of chocolates as a wise man once said. But whatever you decide to do, I'm here to help in any way I can.”

“Thank you,” she said softly, slipping into the commotion of her thoughts—into the questions and the dread that accompanied them.

It was as she'd suspected most of her life: she was part of another woman's tragic misfortune. Life is complex and hard, and she was clearly a heartbreaking event best forgotten by her birth parents. She knew this. She understood it. Poking that dog with a stick could trigger a confrontation that was both fierce and furious—and to what end? What would be the point of her knowing about someone else's difficulties—beyond curiosity? What good could she do them now? What would she ask of her birth parents? . . . or the guardian, if she could get no closer to them? It was over and done and sealed up tighter than a shrink-wrapped can of sardines. What difference did it make now?

“Sophie.” She felt Drew's warm touch on her arm and looked up. “You don't have to decide anything today. It can wait. You came here on a long shot—to find out what, if anything, Arthur had to do with your birth mother, and it looks like you may never find out. It's likely the relationship wasn't even documented.”

“Unless
he
was her guardian.” He stared at her, astonished at the idea but not altogether doubtful.

“He wasn't.” Again, they turned their heads to look at Daniel Biggs. “At least it seems unlikely according to my father's final notes on the case.”

They stared a moment longer before Sophie thought to check her hearing.

“Arthur's name . . . is in the file?”

“Yes. In my father's notes on the case.”

“So Arthur Cubeck's relationship to my birth mother
is
documented.”

“Yes. In my father's notes.”

Drew made an annoyed and frustrated noise. “Which say . . . ?”

“Which say”—the attorney cast a snarky glance at Drew—“your birth mother's guardian was a member of Mr. Cubeck's congregation who asked for his help. I, personally, know that Arthur was a good friend of my father's—they met years ago at a local charity golf tournament, became friends, and played golf every Wednesday morning for years. He often referred people to my father for help.”

“But what about Mr. Metzer? He was Mr. Cubeck's lawyer. Why come all the way over here when he— Oh.” She pulled up short. “Clearfield. Small town. The rumors. They came here for more privacy.” He nodded. “A pregnant teenager in Clearfield would be talked about. When she delivered, the baby would be talked about. Whether she decided to keep the baby or give it up for adoption would be talked about, so what would be the point of keeping the actual adoption quiet?”

The ticking of the wall clock grew louder and louder as they wondered.

Drew spoke first. “Because if someone in town all of a sudden showed up with a newborn, everyone in town, including the mother, would suspect it was hers. It makes sense for the adoption to take place in another town altogether—even more sense if someone knew your parents wouldn't be staying in the vicinity for much longer.”

Of course. Perfectly logical. Nothing deceitful or illegal. Nothing to worry about.

“Or no one knew she was pregnant in the first place,” Daniel Biggs said. “An illegitimate child can be stressful for a young woman . . . for her family. With or without the family's knowledge, she could have kept the pregnancy under wraps until she delivered. It doesn't explain why the adoption was expedited the way it was, but it's possible.”

Okay. Equally as plausible. Deceptive but not illegal. Still nothing to worry about.

“All right.” Drew started the wrap-up. “We know that Arthur knew your birth mother's guardian—maybe your birth mother, as well. No way to know that, but he did help facilitate the adoption. We have no idea why your birth mother needed a guardian, but we do have two plausible scenarios for why Arthur thought it best for Henry Biggs to handle the adoption instead of Graham Metzer . . . and I guess we can assume that
he
brought your parents into the picture because they'd recently been in to ask him about adopting a baby. We know we can't get to your original birth records. But you can file for that . . . what was it?”

“Non-identifying information,” the lawyer said.

“Right. And depending on how much information you may or may not get, it may or may not be medically useful to you, but it certainly won't do more than help you guess at who your parents might have been. That about cover it?”

Daniel Biggs nodded and looked at Sophie. Both men did.

After a moment she began to speak as if thinking out loud. “You know, I've always wondered if I was . . . odd or an unfeeling person for not being more concerned about where I came from and who my birth parents were. I didn't think it mattered. I mean, for whatever reasons, she didn't think she could keep me, those reasons didn't have anything to do with me. I always assumed that she knew that my being born wasn't my fault; that she didn't blame me for her problems, you know? She did the best she could for me.