The Seventh Mother (25 page)

I
t felt so weird, sitting in that small room with my grandmother and my aunt—my mother’s mother and sister. They were kind, kept offering us more sodas, telling me how much I looked like my mother.

“Did you call Rudy?” Lily asked suddenly.

“Not yet,” MommaJean said. “I just found out, it seems like. I haven’t even thought . . .”

“I’m going to call him.”

Lily walked into the kitchen, pulling a cell phone from her pocket.

“Who is Rudy?” Emma asked. She’d been sitting so quiet, just listening. But she’d never let go of my hand.

“That’s my son,” MommaJean said, smiling at her. “He’s two years older than Hailey, her big brother. He always looked after her for me. He’ll be so glad to meet Jenny.”

Lorelei rose and stretched. “I need to make a call myself,” she said. “I’ll just be outside.”

She walked out the front door, leaving Emma and me alone with my grandmother.

“She seems like a nice girl,” MommaJean said, nodding at the door Lorelei had just closed. “Did you say you only met her after you left home?”

“Yes,” Emma said, squeezing my hand, “we only met her yesterday. Or was it the day before?” She looked at me, but I didn’t answer. I couldn’t remember, either, it all felt so long ago and far away.

MommaJean looked confused.

“When Jenny showed me what she’d found—the licenses and . . . and everything—I didn’t know what to do. I just knew we had to leave before Brannon came home.”

She stopped then, lowered her eyes, and wrapped her free arm around her belly.

“So Mrs. Rigby . . .” I began.

“That’s my friend, Shirley,” Emma interrupted. “I called her, and she told me about a retreat center not far from where we were in Kentucky. We drove up there . . . it’s a convent, actually, a place where the nuns retire.”

“Nuns?” MommaJean sounded confused. “Are you Catholic?”

“No,” Emma said. “But Shirley is, and she told me we could go up there to stay and be safe until we figured out what to do next.”

“Shirley’s husband died,” I said. “He was real mean.”

“He was abusive,” Emma continued. “And one time Shirley ran away from him, and the convent . . . really, it’s a retreat center . . . anyway, that’s where she went. And so that’s where we went, Jenny and me. I didn’t know where else to go.”

MommaJean said nothing, just waited.

“That’s where we met Lorelei,” Emma said. “She had a friend . . . oh God, it’s such a long story. Anyway, I told her about Brannon and the letter we found from you, and she said she lived pretty close to you. And . . . and so we just came home with her.”

“She works for a church,” I added, thinking that might be helpful.

Lorelei walked back into the house then, snapping her phone closed.

“Thank you.” MommaJean rose and limped toward Lorelei, her arms open. “Thank you for bringing them home to me.”

“Rudy is on his way,” Lily told us from the kitchen doorway. “He can’t wait to meet you, Jenny.”

“Well, we’re going to need some dinner,” MommaJean said. “Call Jockamo’s, Lily, and order us some pizzas. Get a Slaughterhouse Five and maybe a Maui, and . . . what do you girls like on your pizza?”

She looked from me to Lorelei to Emma, still sitting on the sofa.

“We like anything,” Emma said. She looked so tired and pale. I sat down beside her and took her hand in mine.

“Can we get something without meat?” Lorelei said. “Maybe the Cheese Louise?”

“Okay,” MommaJean said firmly, “a Slaughterhouse Five, a Maui, and a Cheese Louise, all of them large. And get some bread sticks, too.”

“What’s a Slaughterhouse Five?” I asked. It sounded pretty gross.

“It’s named after a Kurt Vonnegut novel,” MommaJean said. “He was a famous writer from Indianapolis. Haven’t you ever heard of him?”

I shook my head.

“Well, it’s got five different kinds of meat—the pizza, that is,” she said. “Pepperoni and sausage and bacon . . . and some others I can’t think of right now. It’s good; you’ll like it.”

Lily disappeared back into the kitchen with her phone.

“Are you all right, dear?” MommaJean was looking hard at Emma.

“I’m fine,” Emma said, but she didn’t sound fine. I held her hand tight in mine.

“It’s all a bit much, isn’t it?”

“It’s a lot,” Emma said. “I’m so happy for Jenny to find her extended family, and so grateful that you’ve been so welcoming. But it’s a lot to take in.”

MommaJean sat down by Emma and touched her cheek.

“Jenny is our family,” she said firmly. “And so are you.”

Emma’s eyes filled with tears. She opened her mouth, but nothing came out.

“Honey,” MommaJean continued, “you brought my granddaughter back to us, my little girl’s little girl. And you’re her stepmama, and that makes you family. You’re stuck with us, whether you like it or not.”

Emma smiled. “Thank you,” she whispered.

“The pizzas will be ready in thirty minutes.” Lily walked back into the room. “Rudy will pick them up on his way over. Oh, and I called Joe.”

“Who’s Joe?” I asked.

“That’s my husband,” Lily said. “He’s going to bring my sons over to meet you.”

“You’ll love them,” MommaJean said. “Jerry is nine and Danny is six. They’re going to love you.”

I held tight to Emma’s hand. All my life, it had been just Daddy and me. Now I had a whole family of strangers. I wasn’t sure how I would remember all their names.

“Can I use the bathroom?” I asked.

“Surely,” MommaJean said. “Lily, show Jenny where the bathroom is.”

I followed Lily upstairs and she pointed toward an open door.

I closed the door behind me and sat down on the edge of the bathtub. My head ached. I felt like I might throw up. Mostly, I just wanted to go home . . . but where was home now? Where was Daddy? I closed my eyes and remembered the day in Idaho when I knew Emma would be my new stepmom. Daddy and Emma dancing on the grass, Emma winking at me, the hot, still air in the trailer. If I could go back and undo it all, would I?

A light knock at the door startled me.

“Jenny?” Emma’s voice was soft. “Are you all right?”

Was I all right? Had I ever really been all right? Would I ever be all right again?

I opened the door and wrapped my arms around her.

“I’m scared,” I said.

“I know,” she said. “I’m scared, too.”

We stood like that for a minute, then she kissed the top of my head.

“I know it’s kind of overwhelming, but it’s pretty great that you have a whole family, that they want you in their lives. You can find out all about your mother, now. That’s a good thing, right?”

I nodded.

“Okay, we’ll eat some pizza and you’ll meet a bunch of people and then we’ll go back to Lorelei’s and get some sleep. Does that sound all right?”

I nodded again, then took her hand and walked downstairs with her. The small front room was crowded now. A man stood with his arm around Lily. Two little boys shouted and ran from the living room to the kitchen and back again. Lorelei sat in her chair, just watching the chaos. MommaJean looked up from the couch and beckoned to me.

“Come here, Jenny,” she said. “Come and meet your cousins.”

The rest of the evening passed in a blur. My uncle Rudy arrived with the pizzas. Then Rudy’s wife came, bringing two of their kids. The room was hot and crowded and incredibly noisy. I sat as close to Emma as I could get, trying to remember to smile.

I had a family. A huge, noisy family.

And I missed Daddy.

L
ord, I was so glad to get back to Lorelei’s. The house was cool and quiet and calm. I stretched out on my bed in the guest room and just breathed in the peace.

Jenny lay on her bed, clutching her stuffed bear.

“Do you miss Daddy?” she asked suddenly, her voice small.

I turned my head to look at her.

“Yes,” I said. “I miss him a lot.”

“Me too.”

Neither of us spoke for a while. Then Jenny sat up, still holding the bear.

“Where’s your phone?” she asked.

I sat up and reached for my purse, dug the phone out.

“Can we listen to the messages?” Her eyes were wide and wet. “Maybe he called. Maybe we can just listen to him talk, just for a minute.”

“I don’t know,” I said. I was afraid to listen, afraid to hear what Brannon might say, and afraid to have Jenny hear what he might say.

“Please?”

I tried to turn the phone on, but the battery was dead. So I dug through my suitcase for the charger and plugged it into the wall outlet. I turned the phone on and looked at the screen—forty-six messages, almost all of them from Brannon.

“Did he call?” Jenny asked.

I nodded. “He called a bunch of times.”

“Can I listen to the messages?”

I sighed. I was more tired than I’d ever been in my life. Honestly, I didn’t think I had the strength to listen to any of Brannon’s messages. But Jenny’s face was so sad and so hopeful. I clicked on the first message and held the phone to my ear.

“Let me listen to them first,” I said.

“Emma?” His voice filled my head. “Babe, where are you? I got your note. Are you in Atlanta? Why didn’t you tell me you were going? Call me back, honey. Please call me soon.”

Tears filled my eyes. I clicked on the next message.

“Emma, where the hell are you? It’s almost eleven and I don’t even know where you are. Call me back, damn it!”

The messages went on and on, alternately pleading and angry, promising and threatening. I clicked the last message from him.

“Listen, you stupid cunt! You think you can just leave me and take my kid? Stupid bitch! You bring Jenny back here and you do it now! She’s my daughter, not yours. I will find you, bitch, and when I do you’re a dead woman!”

“Are you okay?” Jenny stared at me, her eyes round and frightened.

“You don’t want to hear them,” I said. “He doesn’t even sound like your dad anymore.”

She lay back on the bed, her arm over her eyes, and began to cry.

I looked at the phone again. Three more messages, one from Angel, two from Resa. I clicked on Angel’s message.

“Emma, I just want to make sure you’re okay. We’re worried about you and about Jenny. Brannon has been tearing around town like a wild thing. He showed up here last night, drunk and screaming. Michael finally told him he’d call the police if Brannon didn’t leave. I know you’re scared, but please let us know you’re okay. Call me back, or have Jenny e-mail Lashaundra. Be safe.”

Tears stung my eyes. Angel and Michael had been so good to me, after that disastrous start. I hated that they were so worried.

I clicked on the first of Resa’s messages.

“Hey, darlin’, it’s me. I don’t know where you are, but Angel told me what you found in the attic. You should go to the police, Emma. Do it before he finds you. And for God’s sake, don’t come back here. I believe he’d kill you if he could.”

I wiped my eyes, and clicked on her second message.

“Emma, it’s me again. I done told Wylie about what ya’ll found. He said he’s going to do some digging around, to see what he can find out about Brannon and all those women. Angel’s little girl showed him the things she and Jenny found on the computer. You just lay low, you hear? Wylie will figure out what to do.”

When I looked up from the phone, Jenny was staring hard at me.

“Angel and Resa called. They said your dad’s in bad shape. He’s been drinking, I guess, and he’s pretty angry.”

She nodded. “I’ve seen him like that,” she said, her voice flat. “Once, when he thought I was asleep, I saw him hit Jackie. He hit her so hard she fell down. That was the night she left. I always thought it was because he hit her.”

She came and sat beside me on my bed.

“He gets mad, I know. He’s got a bad temper,” she said. “I knew that even when I was little. But . . . but he’s not all bad, is he? I mean, he was a good dad. . . .”

“No, he’s not all bad,” I said, hugging her. “I think he’s got something inside that makes him lose it sometimes.”

“Like a demon or something?”

“Not a real demon, like you see in movies,” I said. “I think something is broken inside Brannon, and sometimes he can’t control himself.”

“Why?” she asked. “Why can’t he control himself?”

“I’m not sure, Jenny. Maybe it’s something from his childhood. Living in foster care all those years was probably really awful. Who knows what happened to him when he was a kid?”

“Maybe his sister knows,” Jenny said. “Maybe she can tell us why he’s like that.”

“Maybe,” I agreed. “I think tomorrow I will call that adoption agency and see if we can get any information about her. Or maybe I’ll just go in person. It’s harder to turn someone down when they’re standing right in front of you.”

“Can I go with you?”

I tilted her chin up, so I could look her in the eyes.

“Yes, you can go with me. We’re in this together, Jenny. Whatever happens, we’re in this together.”

I didn’t sleep much that night. I was so tired I felt halfway dead, but I still couldn’t turn off the static in my head. Brannon’s voice screamed at me.
I will find you, bitch, and when I do you’re a dead woman
. How could I have fallen for a man like that? How could I have been so wrong? I swore when I left Arizona that I’d never be with an abusive man again. And now here I was, running from another disastrous marriage.

I heard Jenny’s rhythmic breathing and wondered how she could sleep at all. I hoped she wouldn’t have nightmares. God knows, we were already living one.

T
he next morning, Lorelei let me use her computer to send an e-mail to Lashaundra.

I didn’t read all of the e-mails that filled my in box. There were just too many, almost all of them from Lashaundra.

We met MommaJean and Lily for breakfast at a place called the Steer Inn. Lily’s boys were at school. Everyone else was at work. I was glad it was just the two of them.

“How are you this morning?” MommaJean wrapped me in a hug and kissed my cheek.

“I’m okay.”

“How about you, Emma? You sleep well?”

“I’m fine,” Emma said. She didn’t look fine. Her eyes were red, her face was white, and her beautiful red hair was kind of a mess.

“You look like you could use a cup of good, strong coffee.”

MommaJean waved at the waitress.

“We want three coffees and four orange juices,” she said. “Do you want some cocoa, Jenny?”

“Yes, please.”

The waitress handed us menus and went to get our drinks.

“Now this is on me,” MommaJean said. “No, don’t even argue about it. I have eleven years to make up for with my granddaughter, and I can surely buy her breakfast.”

“You might as well let her,” Lily said, smiling at Emma. “Momma doesn’t ever take no for an answer.”

“Thank you,” Emma said quietly.

“Now, after breakfast I thought we could go to the old house, the one your mama was raised in. I thought you might want to see it.”

“Actually,” Emma said, “we have plans this morning.”

“Oh.” The old lady’s face and shoulders sagged.

“It’s just . . . we found some adoption papers in one of Brannon’s boxes. Apparently, he had a little sister. We’re going to the agency to see if we can find out anything about her.”

“Well then, we’ll go with you.” MommaJean looked pleased with the idea. “Lily has the day off, and I don’t need to open the store today.”

“I really think it’s better if we do this on our own,” Emma said. “I don’t want to overwhelm the people at the agency, or Jenny’s aunt, if we can find her.”

MommaJean opened her mouth, but before she could say anything, Lily touched her arm and shook her head.

“That’s fine,” Lily said. “You-all do what you need to do.”

The waitress returned with juice, coffee, and cocoa.

“What can I get you today?”

“I’ll have the biscuits and gravy,” MommaJean said. “With a side of potatoes.”

“Eggs Benedict,” Lily said.

“Can I have pancakes?” I asked. “With chocolate chips on top?”

Emma nodded.

“Veggie omelet, please,” she said.

“This was one of your mama’s favorite places to eat,” MommaJean said, patting my arm. “When she was in high school, she and her friends came here almost every day after school to have a Cherry Coke.”

“Is the high school close by?” Emma asked.

“Just down the road about a mile. We can go there sometime, if you want to see it.”

“Okay.”

I looked around, taking in the smells and sounds. My mother came here with her friends after school. Maybe she’d sat in this very booth.

“I’ll tell you what,” MommaJean was saying. “Maybe tomorrow I’ll take you on a whole tour of Irvington. I’ll show you where your mama went to grade school and where she got her hair cut and the old movie theater and the park. Would you like that?”

I nodded and smiled. She seemed so eager to please me.

The waitress returned and set a huge plate of pancakes in front of me, chocolate chips and whipped cream on top. They looked almost like the pancakes at Happy Days. A lump filled my throat.

“Go ahead, darlin’,” MommaJean said, “taste them.”

I took a small bite, hoping I could swallow it.

“It’s good,” I said.

“Your mama used to love pancakes,” she said. “And French toast. Next time we come here, you’ll have to get the French toast. That was her favorite.”

After breakfast, we walked to the parking lot.

“Where is this agency?” MommaJean asked.

“It’s on Churchman,” Emma said, pulling a piece of paper from her purse. “Lorelei made me a map.”

“That’s not too far,” Lily said.

“You call us when you’re done there,” MommaJean said. “We’ll have lunch, maybe at Dufour’s. How does that sound?”

“That sounds lovely,” Emma said. “But I have to say, I’m so full I’m not sure I’ll have any appetite.”

“Oh, you will once you get there,” MommaJean said. “They make their own bread. The smell alone will make you hungry.”

She wrote her phone number on the map.

“Good luck,” she said. “Call me when you’re done.”

“She’s so nice,” I said when we got in the car.

“She is,” Emma said, nodding. “She really wants you to like her.”

“It’s weird that she’s my grandma and I never even knew about her.”

“Give it time. It will start to feel normal after a while.”

We drove south for a bit and then turned west, eventually pulling into a parking lot beside a redbrick building. It felt like we were out in the country.

A receptionist smiled at us when we walked in.

“How can I help you?”

“My name is Emma Bohner,” Emma said. “We’re trying to find my husband’s sister. Her name was Jennifer Adele Bohner before she was adopted.”

“You’ll need to see Karen,” the receptionist said. “Have a seat and I’ll call her.”

We sat down in the waiting room. Pictures of happy families covered the walls.

A few minutes later, a middle-aged woman with short dark hair appeared.

“Mrs. Bohner?”

Emma rose and they shook hands.

“I’m Karen Mason. I understand you are looking for your husband’s sister?”

“Yes, ma’am. She was adopted in 1992 through your agency.”

“Come with me,” the woman said.

We followed her to a big, cluttered office, where several more pictures of couples with babies smiled down at us.

“Now then,” Ms. Mason said, “what was her name?”

“Jennifer Adele Bohner,” Emma said.

She reached in her purse, pulled out the letters I’d found in Daddy’s boxes, and handed them to Ms. Mason.

Ms. Mason put on her glasses and scanned the letters. Then she rose and walked to one of the big file cabinets that lined the walls.

“Bohner,” she said, flipping through files. “Yes, here it is.”

She pulled a file from the drawer and sat back down at her desk.

“Mr. Bohner wrote to us three years ago, looking for information on his sister. Unfortunately, it was a closed adoption and the best I could offer was to put a letter from him in his sister’s file, in case she wanted to make contact. But we never received another letter from him.”

She looked up from the folder and smiled.

“The good news is that Jennifer did contact us last year and indicated she would be willing to meet her brother. I have a letter from her here.”

“Can I see it?” Emma asked, reaching for the envelope.

“I’m sorry,” Ms. Mason said. “It’s addressed to Brannon Bohner. I’m afraid he’s the only one who can receive it.”

“But she’s my aunt,” I said. “I’m even named after her.”

I reached into my pocket and pulled out my school ID card.

“See, Jennifer Adele Bohner, just like her.”

The woman smiled, but she still held onto the letter.

“Jennifer was very particular that only Brannon would receive the letter. She didn’t want her birth mother to find her.”

Her birth mother? How could her birth mother find her? She was dead.

“The thing is, Ms. Mason, my husband is very ill,” Emma said.

I stared at her for an instant, then dropped my eyes, trying to look sad.

“He’s in the hospital and all he wants is to meet his sister. He asked me to come.”

Ms. Mason frowned slightly.

“I’m sorry he’s sick,” she said. “What hospital is he in?”

“It’s Taylor Regional Hospital in Campbellsville, Kentucky,” Emma said. “That’s where we live.”

Ms. Mason said nothing.

“Please, Ms. Mason, Brannon needs to see his sister again, or at least talk to her. He’s afraid he’ll die without ever finding her.” Emma’s eyes were wide as she stared at the woman.

Ms. Mason sighed then.

“Do you have proof that you are his wife?”

Emma reached into her purse again and pulled out another sheet of paper.

“Here is our marriage license,” she said, laying the paper on the desk.

I tried hard not to look surprised.

Ms. Mason picked up the license and read it. Then she sighed again.

“Well, this is not the way we usually do things,” she said. “But Ms. Bohner did indicate that she would like to meet her brother.”

She rose then and held the envelope out to Emma.

“Thank you,” Emma said. “Thank you so much. You have no idea how much this means.”

“I think I do,” Ms. Mason said, smiling.

Emma shook her hand, gathered the papers she’d brought, and put them into her purse, along with the letter from Daddy’s sister.

“I can’t believe you lied to her,” I said as we pulled out of the parking lot.

“I had to,” she said. “She wouldn’t have given us the letter otherwise.”

“Can we open it?”

Emma shook her head. “Let’s wait till we get back to Lorelei’s,” she said. “I don’t want to be reading and driving at the same time.”