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  “If you love her, Ethan, you cannot keep it a secret. You need to give Emma the option of staying with you or leaving on her own before it gets worse. You can't play with someone else's life. Let her choose.”

  Chapter 15 – Olivia & Diane

  “I appreciate you calling with an update, Mr. Rattenbury. As you can imagine, the last two months have been difficult since reading Ben's letter. How much longer before you expect to locate Miss Hector?” Olivia sat in her bedroom chair distracted by the rain falling outside her window steaming the panes with muggy dew. She hoped he'd unearthed more answers by now, especially since initiating her plan to reconnect with each of her boys.

  “We're much closer, Mrs. Glass. I found her hospital records and her entry into the United States. I confirmed a subsequent move to Michigan, but I've yet to determine where she ultimately settled. I'm still not certain if she resides in the United States, returned to Scotland, or perhaps passed away.”

  Olivia fought the desire to ask him what year she arrived in Connecticut as it would reveal to her which son was destined for sharing an unforgiving shellshock with her. She'd held firm by hiding the second letter to avoid any attempts at prematurely opening it. Having the answers that you seek at your fingertips, but a deep-rooted inertia holding you from appeasing that demanding curiosity, took its toll on her body. Her face had transformed into Diane's the last few weeks—at least two more fine lines around her lips appeared each time she looked in the mirror.

  “I understand, Mr. Rattenbury. How much longer do you anticipate? My husband's seventieth birthday would have been in a few weeks, and I want to tell my sons about this mess he's left us in.”

  “I can't promise, but two more weeks should suffice while I determine Miss Hector's current status.” Ira concluded their conversation.

  * * *

  After completing fifty laps in the pool the following morning, Olivia dried her body, poured a glass of iced tea, and sat in the lounge chair on the deck realizing the summer heat had finally settled in the Northeast. Her mind drifted to happier moments with Ben at the opera. He had known she enjoyed their special moments together where they could forget work, let the children enjoy an evening with their grandparents, and treasure a few minutes reminiscing about their past. Ben chose different seats each year to give them a new view, a new experience, and a new hope. It was his way of showing her each successive season was also a beginning for them. Over the years, his imagination was the quality she most valued in him, followed closely by the genuine connection he shared with her whether it was the gifts he chose, the way he made love, the compliments he bestowed upon her, or in how he adored his family.

  Diane stepped onto the pool deck. “Ah, there you are, Liv. I didn't expect you to find you lying out in the sun.” As she stepped closer and out of the glare from the sun, Diane saw her sister's strange expression.

  “Liv, what's going on?” Diane sat on the chair next to her. “You've been to all the boys and told me practically nothing about Ben's letters. From the beginning, please. Let's have girl-talk like we did when we were children.” She poked her sister's ribs, needling her more than necessary.

  “They're all a mess. And it's my fault.”

  Diane's face held a puzzled expression. “Hmmm… talk to me.”

  Olivia painfully explained everything she'd learned on her visits to her sons, ending with the final conversation with her youngest. “Ethan is dying from a colossal tumor that's about to devour his entire brain.” Olivia tried to stifle a burgeoning chuckle, but it rippled out, fixated on pushing her sanity one step further away. “The Glass family has become a caricature of who we once were.”

  Diane's mind processed the news Olivia delivered, beaten and burdened with each blow. Olivia never joked about anything. No matter what happened. “Holy Mary, Mother of God. I don't know what to say. Is that everything?” Her voice wavered, high and low pitches each trying to steal the spotlight from the other, neither quite adept at success.

  “You mean besides Ben dying and learning one of my sons isn't really my son? I suppose that's enough for the summer.” Her hand covered her lips to hold back the hysterical emotions that had begun percolating near the surface. She curled into a tight ball rocking back and forth on the lounge chair unable to stop herself from shaking. She knew she'd lost the fight when Diane refused to back down.

  “You're actin' crazy, Liv. Are you about to have a stroke?”

  “No, it's not a stroke. I'm not okay, but what else could go wrong? Does God exist? Is he laughing at me? What else could go wrong in my life?”

  Olivia screamed at the top of her lungs, long and piercing, scattering a few birds out of the trees above them.

  Diane covered her ears as she rushed over to her sister. She at first went to cradle her and provide comfort, but a wave of energy consumed Diane, and she instead shoved Olivia into the pool. Diane's hands trembled as she watched what she'd done, releasing the pressure from a seventy-year-old radiator valve long overdue. A gasping hiss rose above the pool's gentle waves.

  As she sunk to the pool floor, Olivia found relief forming within her body from finally telling someone else what had transpired. Kicking her feet with the swiftness of a school of fish escaping a shark, she shot to the surface and swam to the edge for safety.

  “Was that necessary?”

  “I'm sorry, Liv. I… I… thought it would help. You were so intense.” Diane's eyes shined as though she suddenly realized everything Olivia had spewed. “Did you say Ethan is dying? What do you mean dying?”

  “He has a brain tumor. The doctors can't operate given its location, and it's growing at such an alarming rate. They expect him to lose motor functions within six weeks. They don't give him any longer than October.”

  Olivia stepped out the pool and dried herself off before revealing the painful details of her last few weeks' spiraling disaster. Confusion settled in her weakened mind when she tried to understand how a mother couldn't recognize her son was gay, but she also feared what others might say about her. Although she'd worked with many gay men in her charities and social groups, it was different. They were acquaintances whose lives were none of her business, but Caleb was the son who didn't trust his parents enough to have an open conversation. Her hands and chest shook when she realized she might have said something insinuating she hated gay people. She couldn't lose Caleb, and if it meant Jake came with him, she had to consider learning how to be more accepting and tolerant.

  While Zachary sleeping with his brother's wife came as a surprise, the continued series of rash behaviors was not new given all the many poor decisions he selfishly made in his life which had always lead to disastrous consequences. As much as she loved her granddaughter and had no desire to give up Anastasia, her birth still changed the course of Zachary's life. He could've been a great lawyer and more successful if he waited until he grew older to have children. She'd never been able to convince him to move back home and stop whatever nonsense occupied his attention in Brooklyn. Zach teetered on the cusp of a necessary change which was apparent every time he listened to her suggestions or talked about the methods he used to teach his daughter.

  Theodore would be heartbroken upon learning Sarah carried another man's child, but it might change his decision to sell Ben's practice. Olivia hoped he hadn't already spoken to the other partners, as she needed time to convince him following in his father's footsteps could still be the right outcome for his future. Theodore might have thought he wanted to paint, but his lifestyle wouldn't allow him to raise the baby if he decided to stay with Sarah. Although Ben left each of his sons a decent amount of money, Olivia knew it wouldn't be enough to carry them through an entire lifetime without ever working again. But she also understood if Theodore's passion was becoming an artist, she had no business squelching the fires that burned within a young man's heart.

  Margaret's pregnancy would push Matthew over the edge. Olivia had barely convinced him to stop taking those pills when she stayed at hi
s house. She still needed to determine how to get him the proper help, certain she'd scared him enough to stay away from self-medicating for a few more days while she unearthed what to do next. She couldn't burden Ethan with his brother's problems given the seriousness of his own health. Images of her youngest son dying from a brain tumor in less than three months pummeled her.

  By dinnertime, Olivia and Diane had finished a few bottles of wine, barely managing lucid conversation without slurring or nodding off. Shortly after the sun set, they both drifted off into a deep slumber.

  Diane awoke the next morning to find she'd fallen asleep on a chaise lounge on the pool deck. Olivia slept in a similar chair to her right, her eyes still shut as drool slipped from the left corner of her mouth.

  “Liv, wake up.”

  Olivia stirred as a sound resembling a cross between a starving brown bear and an electric can opener emanated from her lips.

  “We fell asleep out on the patio.” Diane put a hand to her head with a determined force acknowledging the painful impact of the prior evening's activities.

  “What? We're out where?” Olivia pulled herself into a sitting position. She laughed at the sticky Velcro noise when her skin pulled away from the chair wincing at the sight of the layer of skin left behind. “Damn it! That hurts.” Despite the burning sensation creeping along her skin, she let out a loud guffaw.

  “What? Do you think it's funny? My neck and back ache as though a truck plowed into them. I won't be able to walk right for a week.” Diane stood and kicked the chair with enough force for it to shoot across the patio and land in the pool. She laughed when it reminded her of Olivia's unexpected tumble the night before.

  Olivia stared at her sister with an urgent need to focus her eyes on something stationary. A parched throat weakened her body and a pulsing ache throbbed inside her left temple. “You won't be able to go out in public either. At least not looking as bad as helter-skelter.”

  “What's wrong with you? You won't be able to walk when you get up either. I can't believe we slept outside all night.”

  “Diane, you should see yourself right now. Your face has a stripe across your eyes and nose from lying in the chaise. You're an American flag. No, a raccoon. That's it. You look like a rabid raccoon with those eyes.”

  “I'm so glad you find this funny.” Diane stared at her reflection in the water. Several narrow stripes blistered across her face from the pressure of the chaise lounge straps while she slept. “You're right. I could pass for a rabid, and hungover, raccoon. You caused this. How much did we drink?”

  Olivia tallied the bottles while holding her head from crashing into her shoulders. “I count three wine bottles. Plus, a half-empty bottle of vodka on the table.”

  “Maybe we're just having a nightmare.”

  “An awful one. But at least I look better than you do.” Olivia winked.

  “I'm glad to hear you laughing. We'll get through this. I don't know how anything else could possibly happen to this family right now. We've hit rock bottom worse than ever before.”

  “From your lips to God's ears. Haven't I had enough surprises for a lifetime? No more please…”

  “Amen, sister.”

  “I never imagined we were so far off track. We all have our little quirks and issues, but this is a disaster. How could I be so ignorant and foolish?” Olivia pressed her fingers in the bags under her eyes, hoping it would release enough pressure for her to move forward with the day. “Diane, did you take photos out of my albums? I noticed the other day I was missing some.”

  “No. I haven't seen them in years. Where could they be?”

  “I don't know. How odd. But one thing I do know… someone needs to take charge of the Glass family and put us back on the right path.”

  “As soon as I'm no longer a wilting flower forgotten in the scorching sun, and I put medicine on these burns, I'll help you figure out how to do it.”

  Olivia and Diane lifted one another off the chaise lounges and headed back to the house to prepare for the day. Olivia showered and dressed reflecting on what brought her strength in the past. She'd managed to live most of her life as what she hoped was a good sister, mother, and wife. She accepted she'd told a few little white lies—everyone did—but never anything to harm people. She'd told Diane several times she liked her husband, even though he was one step above a lazy oaf. Few people cared for their in-laws, at least in her experience. She'd convinced Ben he hadn't put on too many pounds despite the four pant sizes he'd jumped in the first two years after their wedding. Everyone gained a few pounds, what was the difference? He lost the weight eventually.

  She never kept a disruptive secret or told life-altering lies in her sixty-seven years. She was a truthful woman and valued morality in those closest to her. Sometimes she spoke too honestly, too direct, but it was no different than the color of her eyes or the shape of her feet. Changing such attributes never crossed her mind. Could she be less hard on her children? Should she extend more love to her daughters-in-law? Would she find a way to have a relationship with a son-in-law? Maybe she could accept some of these changes if she applied focus and adopted an alternative mindset.

  But how would she tell her son that she wasn't his real mother? What did having an adopted son mean as opposed to having a biological son? Was it really any different? She raised him. She had been his mother for his entire life. The muscles within her crippled heart constricted, pinching every nerve in her body as the guilt roamed wildly throughout her mind, convincing Olivia it would change everything in their relationship. What would happen if Rowena wanted to meet him? But far worse, what would happen if he loved Rowena more?

  Olivia didn't have any answers to her questions, nor did she have the energy or confidence necessary to find them at that moment. Did it even matter? Was the real impact of Ben's death and revelation an impetus for her to re-evaluate her relationship with each son? Before any of this happened, she'd thought she was close with each of her children, but now feared she hadn't been that good of a mother. Secrets and lies tore apart her family ever since she'd heard the name Rowena Hector through the appearance of the letters. She needed to excise every hidden truth and nasty, covert darkness that lurked within her family's façade into the open, so everyone could heal.

  As she left the bedroom, Olivia ignored the dirty cup still sitting on Ben's nightstand, its importance far less than anything else in her life these days. Time had arrived to arrange for her sons' return home to honor Ben's memory on what would have been his seventieth birthday, but also so she could rebuild the bonds between brothers. She needed to stop obsessing over the letter and determine how to help her sons fix their problems. The letters had become an unfortunate crux to lean on, a red herring for what loitered among her years of ignorance… a rabbit hole to get lost in… and she was too old to play Alice.

  Chapter 16 – Caleb

  Caleb's exit from a downtown office building rivaled a speeding ambulance. A restless hand covered his thumping heart, as he stopped short before crashing into a group of tourists.

  Jake chased after him. “We could be dads in less than a month. I was scared Caitlyn wouldn't love us. Or choose us.”

  Caitlyn, an eight-month pregnant young girl, was anything but interested in motherhood. She'd been working on her graduate degree when the unexpected pregnancy interrupted her life. Her solution—search for a loving gay male couple to adopt her baby, as they would be the best parents who could provide all the necessary things for a child growing up in the modern world.

  Caleb smiled as he stood catching his breath from the winded dash on a street in South Bangor, where they'd met with the adoption agency. “Of course, she would. You're the most caring and loving man I know.”

  “So are you. She loved us both. Chester even confirmed we were the most ideal couple, unlike any they'd ever met before.”

  “He did.”

  “You were unusually quiet inside. Are you having second thoughts? We talked about this, and you wanted
to move forward.”

  Caleb's eyes met Jake's. He owed him the truth. “I'm not sure. With everything happening this summer, I'm a little worried.”

  “Is this about what happened with your mother?”

  “No, my father.”

  “Him dying in the car accident?”

  “Yes, I mean no. It's about how to be a dad. I don't believe I know how to be a dad. I thought I did, but what if our kid doesn't respect me or thinks he or she can't talk to me about important stuff. I'm not certain my parents did their best. Maybe I won't either.”

  Jake sunk his hands in his jean pockets fumbling to find the keys. “Caleb, you've always said they were good parents… just sometimes they were not easy to talk to. You were the one who chose not to tell them about being gay. Your mom is coming around a little, each time you talk with her…”

  “Stop right now, babe. I know I screwed up. It's always been me. Fear stopped me from telling them I'm gay, and now I'm afraid to adopt my own child. I need to accept myself. I need to tell myself I'm worth it, and I'm good enough.”

  “You're not in this alone. I'm half responsible.”

  “What if that's how I am with our kid? I don't want him or her to suffer because I have a hard time with my emotions.”

  “Don't you think you've been open with me? I know you've been as honest as you could possibly be. We've had lots of conversations about our parenting beliefs and passions. You've bonded with some of the people here who weren't too friendly with our kind at first. You've connected with your aunt about the real you.”

  “I know. I'm not sure what my issue is.” Caleb closed his eyes bobbing his head to keep focused on one problem at a time.

  “I do, you jackass. You've always thought that's what everyone sees when they look at you. Just another gay man, but that's stupid. You're a man. You're an architect. You're a great crossword player. You suck at sports. You forget to put the lid back down on the toilet. You put empty cartons of ice cream back in the freezer. You buy me the perfect gifts for my birthday. You love watching old car shows. And oh, yeah, you're also gay. It's just one piece of who you are. Not the most important piece.”