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  “So, you want me to paint the walls, chartreuse? That's what you're saying?”

  Ethan caught up with her, boxed her against the single row of laminate kitchen cabinets, and grabbed both her wrists above her head.

  Emma giggled when he finally let her go and placed half the scone in his mouth. He bit off a piece as more crumbs landed on her neck. He bent and sucked them up in one swoop with his lips.

  “You're such a pig.” Emma grabbed her phone and took a photo. “Snapchat time.”

  “That's a no to chartreuse, whatever color it is… let's see what you have to say now.” Ethan shoved the rest of the scone in her mouth. The camera, turned in the wrong direction, flashed as it took a picture of the ceiling.

  She grabbed her cup of coffee, swallowed, and blew him a kiss. “That was good, for sure. Thank you. But let's eat our sandwiches and look at the swatches. I will run to the paint store this morning to buy whatever we agree on.”

  Emma and Ethan finished their breakfast, considered the options, and selected a slate gray, violet, and mint green combination for the main room in the loft which would match the natural flooring they intended to keep intact.

  Ethan used a moment of silence to tell Emma about his recent discussion with his mother. “My mom's looking to come visit in a couple of weeks.”

  Emma smiled. “Really? I definitely want to meet her.”

  “I know you were upset you couldn't come for the funeral.”

  “Yeah, but you were caught in the middle.”

  “I wanted you by my side, but I understood what my mother meant. You wouldn't have met her at her best. And I'd have been busy with the funeral services and chatting with all my Dad's friends and colleagues.”

  “I guess. I would have been overwhelmed. Just don't like thinking she doesn't approve of me.”

  “Have an open mind. You two haven't even met. She's not all that scary.”

  “I know. But I want your mother to like me.”

  “She will. I plan to keep you around for a long time.”

  Emma and Ethan spent a few minutes of alone time in the bedroom before she left for the paint store, promising to return in a couple of hours while he caught up on sleep.

  As he cleaned the kitchen, Ethan sent his brother a text.

  Ethan: Glad I saw you last week at Mom's. You need to come home again.

  Caleb: I know. We need to spend more quality time together.

  Ethan: Maybe another fishing trip?

  Caleb: That'd be great. When?

  Ethan: I'll check with Matt and Zach. But soon.

  Caleb: Zach's got his hands full with some girl.

  Ethan: He's always got his hands full of some girl.

  Caleb: Ha! Maybe the Robot will come this time.

  Ethan: Teddy won't go. He's too busy with Dad's firm.

  Caleb: True. You ask Teddy. I'll ask Matt.

  Ethan: No deal… you talk to Teddy, I'll talk to Matt. I need to get even with him.

  Caleb: Wimp. Fine. I'll ask the Robot.

  Ethan entered the bedroom, pulled his Looney Tunes t-shirt over his head, and dragged his cargos to the floor. As he stepped out of his tennis sneakers, a card fell out of the pocket of his pants. Ethan gathered it and slipped it beneath the wool blanket his aunt had quilted for him.

  Pulling out his mobile phone, he deftly punched in numbers while gazing around the room. When it connected on the third ring, a nasal voice spoke.

  “Excelsior Jewelry Repairs. Marty speaking. How may I assist you?”

  Ethan pulled the phone closer to his ears. “Hi, it's Ethan Glass. I wanted to check on the item I left with you last week.”

  “Ah, Mr. Glass. I planned to call you this afternoon. It's an exquisite piece. Did you say it belonged to your grandmother?”

  “Yes, it's been in my family for generations.”

  “It's a beautiful piece, worth quite a bit. Are you sure you don't want to sell it?”

  Ethan chuckled. “No, definitely not. I'm going to propose to my girlfriend. But it needs cleaning and sizing.”

  When Ethan arrived home for the funeral, he'd spent time with Diane talking about Emma. They'd had a strong bond most of his life, especially after his grandmother passed away. When he told his aunt that he found the right girl, Diane pulled out her mother's engagement ring and gave it to him. Guilt brewed inside Ethan when his Aunt Diane had gifted it to him, but she had no children and Olivia wore an engagement ring from his father. The rest of the boys had already been married or didn't show any interest in family heirlooms, but Ethan always had. Diane told him his Grandma Eleanor felt emphatic it belonged to him whenever he'd fallen in love.

  Marty added, “I can do it. No worries. Just drop off one of her rings later today so I can get a size comparison. You can pick it up in a week.” Marty hung up.

  Ethan smiled, remembering his grandmother and the anticipation of proposing to Emma. His family could use good news—and he could use good news, too.

  Ethan dialed a second number on his phone and waited several rings before anyone answered. When it finally happened, Ethan quickly sat up in the bed. “Hi, this is Ethan Glass. I'm calling to check on my test results. Do you know if Dr. Kane is available?”

  A voice on the other end of the phone told him to hold on. Three excruciating minutes later, Dr. Kane showed up. “Ethan, I'm glad you called. Can you come into the office this week?”

  Ethan's grip on the phone grew tighter. He stopped breathing for a few seconds as pressure built in his head. “I'd prefer you tell me the news on the phone, Dr. Kane.”

  The doctor paused for a moment. “I have the results of the biopsy we ran on your tissue sample. It would be best if you came onsite for this conversation, Ethan.”

  Chapter 9 – Olivia

  Olivia spent most of the week planning her trip to visit each of her sons, asking Victor to bring her to Caleb's Maine home as the first leg of her adventure. As she marked off items on her list, Diane called to her from the hallway.

  “I'm back, Liv. Where are you?”

  “Up in the bedroom packing for the trip to Caleb's.” Olivia stared at her long, camel-colored cashmere winter coat purchased on her New York City trip to see the Rockefeller Christmas tree with Diane the prior year. “How cold does it get in Maine? I suppose I need to bring this heavy coat.”

  Diane rounded the corner across the room and stood in Olivia's bedroom doorway as her sister inspected the clothing. “You may have been the one to go to school and work at that fancy law firm, but sometimes you lack basic common sense, Liv. They don't get snow in June. You don't need a heavy coat. Take your long red sweater, the one you wore last week when we visited the cemetery. You may need it one or two nights if he's too far into the mountains.”

  “Let's not quibble. I've never been to Maine. Maybe I should ask what I can bring.” Olivia combed through a pile of shoes.

  “You don't need to call Caleb. Don't be nervous. He's your son. You're finally getting to see where he's been living all these years. Your time is better spent on figuring out what you wanna accomplish while with him.”

  Olivia pushed a few dresses out of the way and tapped the king-size bed. “Please sit here with me. It's time I told you about something.”

  Diane sat next to her sister and clasped her hands in her lap. She noticed Ben's dirty coffee cup still lingered near the alarm clock. “It's been two weeks since he died. You haven't sorted any of Ben's clothes, and his favorite mug is still on the nightstand. Isn't it time to do a little cleaning?”

  “Yes, but it's the least of my concerns right now. You wanted to know what's in the letter.” Olivia willed herself not to get sidetracked over how much she missed Ben, despite the anger consuming her. “One of the boys is not my son. My biological son.” Her hand gripped her chest while her despondent eyes fell to the floor boring a hole through the carpet.

  Diane tilted her head to the side and scrunched her eyes, her voice hollow and hesitant. “I don't understand.”
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  “I'm not sure I do either.” Olivia grabbed her sister's warm and comforting hand. “After I gave birth, the baby didn't survive. Ben stood by the nurses when they tried to save the baby, but he died while I was all drugged up. They couldn't do anything for him. I lost a child, Diane.”

  Diane's hand dropped to her chin and covered her mouth. “Why've you never told me before?”

  “I didn't know. Don't be a stupid old fool.” Bitterness clung to her words.

  Diane pulled back from the unexpected reaction, careful to let the venom squeak past her.

  “Another woman gave birth to a baby at the hospital. She had been searching for a respectable couple to adopt the child. Ben gave her money, and the nurse switched babies, I guess, before anyone else found out.”

  “That's crazy,” Diane said. “How did you not know it?”

  “I was knocked out from the anesthesia with all five boys. Giving birth was never easy for me, Diane. I know you haven't ever had a child before. Let's not act ridiculous as well as simple-minded.”

  Diane sat speechless for a few seconds deciding whether she should fight back. She settled on being the bigger person. “I know you don't mean that. Let's not act ridiculous as well as nasty. Continue.”

  Olivia paced the floor for a minute, then broke the silence. “It happened quickly. I'm not certain which one he's talking about. I've read the letter repeatedly, but he left me no clues. He didn't say much else, just addressed the second letter to our son and told me not to open it until Mr. Rattenbury found the birth mother.”

  Diane shifted on the bed, her gaze focused on Olivia. “The estate attorney? He's looking into this for you?”

  Olivia's voice grew frail and muted. “I talked to him yesterday. The woman's name is Rowena Hector. She moved here from Scotland to have the baby. Mr. Rattenbury will research immigration and hospital records during the years when Ben and I had the boys. He's certain he'll find out what happened to Rowena, and then we'll decide what to do next after we have enough information to proceed.”

  “So that's why you want to visit the boys before the lawyer finds Rowena. You wanna spend time with them, before you find out one of them isn't your biological child.”

  “Yes, it's all I can concentrate on.” Olivia' voice fell lower than a mumble, as her eyes closed and blocked all traces of light. White knuckles pressed hard into the handle of the half-packed luggage.

  “But you're still their mother no matter what happens, Liv.”

  “I know. It doesn't change anything, except it does. What if Rowena wants to meet her son? What if he wants to meet her? I just lost Ben. I don't want to lose a son, too.” Tears rained down Olivia's flushed cheeks.

  Diane's chest constricted as she walked over using her sleeve to wipe Olivia's tears. “Nonsense. Don't try to predict the future. Take this one step at a time. They've been your sons for thirty-two years. Nothing will take it away.”

  “I suppose,” Olivia whispered as she walked toward the bathroom to grab a tissue, passing a mirror on the closet wall. “I'm looking older, Diane.” She cleared her throat before continuing. “Actually, I'm just looking old.”

  Diane sat in silence processing all she'd heard.

  “What would you do, Diane? I'm angry with him, but I can't bring myself to read the other letter. He wanted me to wait until we find Rowena. If we can't find her, maybe I'm not supposed to ever read it. Then nothing would change.”

  “Ben was practical. I can't say if this was or wasn't the best decision, but he decided it years ago. And you can't change what happened. It was important enough for him to finally be honest.” Diane paused to collect her thoughts as the curtains blew across the window from the racing wind. “Think of the burden he must have carried all these years, knowing he's been keeping this secret from you. Consider what it took for him to write down this confession and give it to someone else to deliver to you upon his death.”

  “Him? What about me? Why did I have no choice in it?”

  “He raised someone else's child as his own and never told you because he didn't wanna hurt you. He never treated any of the boys differently. He was a father to all of them.”

  Olivia nodded. “He was a good father.”

  “Maybe he planned to tell you someday himself and not via the letter. He didn't expect to die in a car accident. He lost his chance to be honest with you. Maybe it was taken away from him in the end.”

  Olivia listened to Diane's words as the whirr of a lawnmower's engine blazed outside her window. It soothed her mind as she sat against the bed bargaining with an unknown debtor for ownership of her future. “No, the fool had years to tell me. I can't waste any more time guessing why he did it or why he chose to tell me in this manner. He did. It's done. And I have to fix it.” She wiped her face dry, tossed the tissues in the corner wastepaper basket, and drew a deep breath.

  Diane placed a hand on her heart. “What'll you tell the boys when you visit each of them? They're gonna ask what's in the letter.”

  “I'll be vague, play down its importance. It's not lying if I'm waiting a little longer to get the full story. I need all the facts before I destroy my son.”

  “Will you still tell him the truth if Rowena is dead?”

  “I don't know. Don't push me. I need to figure out how to reconnect with each of my sons to decide… what the hell my future will be without Ben. I am more than his wife, you know.”

  “Yes, I know. Don't take it out on me. I'm not your personal punching bag.” Diane nudged Olivia with the palm of her hand. “Let me give you a few minutes alone. I'll make us some lunch.”

  While Diane left, Olivia sat on the gray recliner in her bedroom corner lifting the foot bench to rest her tired legs. For years, her identity was mother and wife. She'd quit her position at the law firm when she was pregnant with Caleb, as working a full-time job, raising several boys, and maintaining a house and home bordered on impossible. After Ethan had arrived, she and Ben found the solution to augmenting her roles as mother and wife in their family. She joined the local ladies' social leagues and charities gradually taking on more responsibility until she became the chair of several committees and a director on a few boards for children's health advocacy. Olivia grew energized by her new roles when many corporations sought her out to collaborate on social awareness campaigns and non-profit humane causes close to her heart. When Ben died a few weeks ago, she'd lost her ability to focus on all the activities that had once filled her days. Her friend, Betty, stepped in to keep things afloat until Olivia could return.

  As she focused on the clothes strewn across the bed and the clanging sound of Diane preparing their meal, Olivia's mind returned to guessing which of the boys Ben had written about in his letter. She found reasons why it could be any of them, each one more bruising than the last.

  Could it be Theodore since Ben knew she wouldn't be able to accept losing her first-born child? Theodore was different from them both, unable to share intimacy or express real emotions. While she and Ben weren't overly affectionate around the boys, they tried to always kiss each other hello and goodbye, a loving touch of a hand across the other's shoulder when passing through a room. Something had been holding Theodore back for most of his life, and Olivia worried his DNA dictated his lack of affection.

  She worried the letter could be about Matt as he didn't resemble either of them, but she was certain Matt inherited her own father's facial expressions. Whenever Matt was excited, his entire smile grinned ear to ear and his eyes bulged. He'd rivaled their dog, Bailey's, boisterous shake whenever he got wet, just as her father did whenever he'd fallen in the pool given his fears over swimming. Matt and her father even shared the same rapid wiggle in their upturned noses whenever they told a white lie. But Ben knew how much Olivia wanted Matt, and when she almost miscarried in her second trimester, he promised her no one would take away their baby. Maybe it was Matt given how sick she had been during those last few months before giving birth to him.

  Caleb was a my
stery, pulling away when he became a teenager, more than any of the other boys and more than Olivia thought normal at his age. Teenagers always grew more private during their awkward years, but Caleb never found his way back from them. Maybe Caleb internalized the missing link to her and Ben, unconsciously moving his life in a different direction. But he also had a penchant for gardening and watching the beauty of nature blossom like she did. They'd talk for hours over planting vegetables, spend afternoons reading gardening books, and disappear on weekends to visit local nurseries when he was a young child.

  Zachary had always been a handful getting into every possible type of trouble. He knew right from wrong, but he made poor decisions. She and Ben, like the rest of the boys, had a practical approach to life where they were future-thinking in everything they chose to do. Zachary lived each day as he wanted to, ignored consequences, and never felt compelled to follow suit with the rest of the Glass family. Perhaps he inherited a different set of hopes and dreams from another pair of parents. But she was certain as much as Zachary tried to be as different as he could from everyone in the family, he and Ben shared an identical walking pattern, with a slight favor of the right leg often forcing them to veer to the side. And before Ben's hair grayed, she'd often mistake them for one another from far away.

  Olivia bonded most closely with Ethan in the last few years, given she spent the most time with him as a child. She had him all to herself while the older boys were away at school, developing a strong mother-son bond. Ethan had researched the entire family tree and knew over twenty generations of the Glass family. He also showed an innocence and naivety unmatched by anyone else in their family, never revealing an angry bone in his body. Maybe he came from a much simpler family who never even thought about the fears that saturated her and Ben's restless nights.

  If she kept this up, she'd find herself committed in an institution like Ben's brother. Olivia wasn't sure how much longer she could hold on without breaking down in front of the boys, which was the last thing she could let happen without having all the facts.