Identity Crisis

by Sarah Ettritch

  Lesley’s face tightened. “She’d be even less pleased with me, if she knew I was lying through my teeth.”

  “You’re not lying through your teeth,” Jayne said.

  “Yes, I am. So are you.”

  “What’s the lie?”

  Lesley yanked her hand from Jayne’s and stood. “Don’t play games, Jayne. I’m not in the mood.”

  “I’m not playing games. I don’t think we lied to your parents. You do. So tell me why. What’s the lie?”

  Lesley plunked into a chair and pointed toward the archway. “They think they have twin granddaughters.”

  “They do have twin granddaughters.”

  “They’re going to stand in the Chosen House and grin from ear to ear as they watch their daughter present two more Thompsons to the Chosen Council.”

  “But you won’t see it that way. You’ll see it as a lie.”

  “It is a lie. She isn’t my daughter. She isn’t even Rymellan.”

  Jayne listened to the anguish in Lesley’s voice, torn between shouting at her and wanting to comfort her. “We went through this already. The only difference between Kat and Eleanor is that Kat isn’t your biological child and wasn’t sanctioned by the Chosen Council.”

  Lesley gave her an incredulous look. “The only difference?”

  “She might be weaker in the Way than you. But she’ll grow up on Rymel, belong to a strong Rymellan family, and attend the Indoctrination Academy like everyone else does. She’ll learn the Law, the Chosen Tradition, recite the Words with pride, know all the important articles. She’ll see herself as Rymellan, because she will be. Why can’t you accept that?”

  “I understand what you’re saying. I’ve heard Jensen say it. I’ve heard Laura say it.” Lesley lowered her head and studied her hands. “I understand that the Chosen Council gives everyone the best head start possible. Katherine—Kat—won’t have that head start, but that doesn’t mean she’ll fall from the Way.”

  “Then what’s the problem?” Jayne asked quietly. “Are you afraid that she will fall from the Way? Is that what’s keeping you from warming up to her?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Being a Rymellan sanctioned by the Chosen Council isn’t a guarantee. I know that from experience.”

  “I know you do.” Lesley lifted her head. “And I know I’m using Katherine’s ancestry as a way to justify why I don’t feel anything for her. Maybe it happened too fast. Maybe if we’d had more time.”

  Despite fearing the answer, Jayne forced out the question on her mind. “If we had, do you think you’d have preferred to give her back to the Danlions?”

  Lesley shook her head. “No. I know we did the right thing. Perhaps I’m just not the right person for this.”

  “I don’t believe that.” Jayne wanted to go to her, but she’d learned that when Lesley was upset, she preferred space. When she was ready for a hug, she’d make the first move.

  “Well, it’s too late now, isn’t it?” Lesley said softly. “At least she’ll have you and Mo.”

  “And you! She is your daughter. I wish you’d see it that way. You knew about her before we did. You flew her to the infirmary, you were with her when she came home. You feed her, change her, look in on her to make sure she’s all right.” A lump rose in her throat when Lesley’s eyes reddened. “You need more time, that’s all. Spend time with her, when you’re not doing mama duty.”

  Lesley’s voice quavered. “I want her to see loving faces, not a cold one.”

  Jayne wanted to cry with relief. “That sounds like someone who cares about her.”

  “It does, doesn’t it?” Lesley said flatly. “Now if I could only feel it, rather than just sounding like it.”

  You already do. If she’d only give herself permission. “You will.”

  “You think so?”

  “Yes. Why don’t you forget about trying to be her mama? Take the pressure off.”

  “I don’t know if—”

  A cry, from the baby monitor sitting on the end table. Jayne inwardly sighed. “I’ll go.” She went to Lesley and gave her a quick hug and kiss, then went upstairs, feeling better about Lesley and Kat. In whatever internal battle Lesley was waging, the side for love and compassion and fairness would prevail. With Lesley, it always did.

  *****

  An hour later, Lesley sat glumly in front of her comm station and thought about the conversation with Jayne. She didn’t need anyone to tell her that she was failing at being a parent to Katherine—not that Jayne had said that. She’d been her usual sensitive self but couldn’t sugar-coat reality. Katherine had two mamas and a minder.

  The doorbell rang. “I’ll go down,” Lesley shouted, knowing that Jayne was in the nursery. She went downstairs, and quickly masked her shock when she swung the door open expecting Physician Crawford but found a stranger standing on the doorstep. “Can I help you?”

  The woman smiled. “Good afternoon, Commander. I’m Physician Russell. Physician Crawford was unexpectedly called into a meeting, so she asked me to come and see the twins.”

  What? Crawford knew about Katherine. This woman didn’t. What if—

  Russell’s brow furrowed. “I am a qualified pediatric physician.”

  “I’m sorry,” Lesley said, mortified by her rudeness. “I had something else on my mind. Come in.”

  “I’m used to dealing with frazzled parents.” Russell stepped into the entranceway and glanced around. “I should have beeped.”

  “No, don’t worry about it. The twins are upstairs. This way.” Lesley led Russell up the winding staircase and into the nursery.

  Russell’s brows shot up. “What a delightful mural! Who did it?”

  Lesley looked to Jayne, who was bent over Eleanor’s crib, but Jayne didn’t lift her head. “Jayne did.”

  Russell followed Lesley’s gaze. “You did it?”

  Jayne straightened. “Uh, yes,” she said, her face scarlet.

  “It’s wonderful. You’re very talented. We could use something like this in the infirmary’s pediatric waiting area.”

  “Thank you,” Jayne mumbled.

  “I’ll examine your girls on the changing table,” Russell said, dropping her bag to the floor. She approached the nearest crib. “Who’s this?”

  Lesley tensed. “Katherine.”

  “Hello, Katherine. Why don’t I have a look at you first?” She reached into the crib.

  Wanting to give them space, Lesley returned to the doorway and leaned against the doorframe. She folded her arms and tried not to appear stressed, but every time Russell grunted, Lesley almost hit the ceiling. Jayne hovered near Russell and Katherine for a while, then came over to Lesley and touched her arm. “I have to go to the bathroom,” she whispered.

  Lesley stepped into the room so Jayne could pass. A moment later, Russell turned to her. “She’s doing well, aren’t you?” she said, tickling Katherine’s belly. Uh-oh. Katherine’s eyes squeezed shut. Her mouth opened. She wailed. “Oh, dear, she didn’t like that.” Russell picked her up and smiled down at her. “I’ve upset you, haven’t I?” She hugged Katherine and rubbed her back, but Katherine continued to cry—loudly. “Oh, you want your mama, don’t you? Come, Mama, come get Katherine.”

  Lesley looked over her shoulder for Jayne.

  “Come on, Mama, Katherine wants you.”

  She froze when she realized that Russell was referring to her. Apparently deciding to carry the baby over to Lesley, Russell approached her and lifted Katherine into her arms. “Here’s your mama.”

  Lesley stared down at Katherine, who blinked up at her. Katherine’s cries grew weaker. She calmed down.

  Russell’s face scrunched up. “Aw. Giving them to Mama or Papa doesn’t always work, but this time, it did.” She pinched Katherine’s toes and jiggled her foot. “You just wanted to see a familiar face, didn’t you? You love your mama. You wanted someone you trust.” Her voice returned to its normal pitch. “I’ll have a look at Eleanor now.”

 
Katherine loved and trusted her? No. Mo and Jayne, perhaps, but not her.

  “Are you all right, Commander?”

  “Yes, fine. Call me Lesley.”

  As Russell nodded and went to fetch Eleanor, Lesley laid Katherine back into her crib. Katherine wailed again. “Oh, dear, she wasn’t ready to be put down,” Russell said. Lesley leaned over the crib and gently took Katherine’s hand. To her surprise, Katherine grabbed her index finger—and quieted down.

  “She wants you to stay with her, Mama,” Russell said, carrying Eleanor over to the change table.

  “Yes, she does,” came a voice from the doorway.

  Lesley looked up. Jayne raised her brows, then went over to Russell. Lesley watched Jayne and Russell over her shoulder, aware of the little hand grasping her finger, and noticing the instant Katherine let go.

  *****

  Certain that Jayne was busy drawing in the living room and Mo wouldn’t be home for at least half an hour, Lesley climbed the stairs and crept into the nursery. She smiled at a slumbering Eleanor, then turned her attention to Katherine, who also lay fast asleep. Russell’s words came back to her: “You just wanted to see a familiar face, didn’t you? You love your mama. You wanted someone you trust.”

  Too busy spinning her wheels over how she viewed Katherine, Lesley had given little thought to how Katherine viewed—or perhaps would view—her, and how Katherine would see herself. She wouldn’t know, would never suspect, that her biological parents were Danlion. She’d grow up believing she was Rymellan, identify as such, and the three women she lived with would be to her exactly what they were to Eleanor—her mamas. There would be no angst over her ancestry, no identity crisis. She wouldn’t pretend to be Rymellan; she would be Rymellan, in her mind and in her heart, and Lesley, Mo, and Jayne Thompson would be her parents.

  Parents did more than feed, clothe, and shelter their children. If Lesley was to be a good role model, she needed to start right now. Someone strong in the Way should see bringing up a rescued infant as Rymellan as a privilege, and do so with love. Lesley would teach Katherine what it meant to be the Rymellan Katherine Thompson. Katherine wouldn’t grow up wondering why, no matter how hard she tried and how often she reached out, her mama Lesley remained distant. She wouldn’t ask herself what was wrong with her, what she’d done to disappoint her Mama Lesley, why only two of her three mamas truly cared.

  Tears prickled at Lesley’s eyelashes. Wrapped up in herself, she’d approached the situation from the wrong direction. While she’d struggled not to condemn Katherine based on her lineage, Katherine—her daughter—had condemned her. Fortunately, she was too young to understand how her Mama Lesley had failed her. Lesley was bound to let her daughters down at various times throughout their lives, but she vowed never to do it on this scale again.

  She wanted to place her hand atop Katherine’s warm head, but that would only wake her up. I’m sorry. I’ll do better from now on. She turned to Eleanor’s crib. I let you down, too. She’d let them both down. But her step was lighter as she left the nursery, and the joy that had battled for freedom ever since Eleanor had slipped into Physician Crawford’s hands finally burst to the surface. She had twins! Two daughters! She’d love and nurture them both.

  *****

  Mo snickered as Les described her reaction when she’d opened the door to Physician Russell. “What did you think would happen? Did you think an alarm would sound when Russell examined her?”

  Les smiled. “I’ll admit, panicking was silly.”

  Mo grinned, not only at Les’s words, but at her mood. Les had smiled more in the past ten minutes than she had since she’d first told them about Kat.

  Les patted Mo’s knee. “So everything went okay on 72?”

  “Yeah. But I felt torn.”

  “Why?”

  “It was good to be back in the hustle and bustle, but I kept thinking about Eleanor and Kat. I figure my schedule will be perfect, though.” She brushed a stray hair out of her eye. “I’ll be here, and then just when I’m starting to get sick of them, it’ll be time for me to go up to 72 for a couple of days. By the time I get back, Jayne will be sick of them and I can take over.”

  “Aren’t you missing someone?”

  She quirked a brow. “You’re the evening shift.” Les would soon return to duty, so she wouldn’t be much help during the day. Unless Mo had an early report time on 72, she and Jayne would answer the twins’ cries during the night. “You’ll be getting off easy.”

  Les drew breath, then frowned when Jayne walked into the living room.

  “What is it?” Mo asked, her heart thumping at the concern on Jayne’s face. “Are the twins okay?”

  “Fine.” Jayne lifted the comm unit Mo hadn’t noticed. “I just received a dispatch from Physician Russell. At her next department meeting, she’s going to suggest that the infirmary commission me to paint a mural in the pediatric waiting area.”

  “That’s great!”

  Jayne shook her head. “No, it isn’t. I can’t paint a mural in the waiting area.”

  “Why not?” Mo and Les said in unison.

  “Because...I can’t.”

  Mo held out her hand. “Can I read the dispatch?”

  Jayne handed her the comm unit, then turned to Les. “Don’t mention this to Joanna. She’ll start in at me again about putting my work into a show.”

  “She hasn’t talked about it since you told her no last year,” Mo heard Les say as she scanned the dispatch from Russell.

  “That doesn’t mean she’s happy about it. If I tell her about this, she’ll probably stop tutoring me.”

  “Are you sure you don’t want to show even one painting?”

  Silence, then, “I didn’t want to be an artist. I didn’t want to be like my papa, so I had to fight for my drawings and paintings. I’m not ready to put that on the line yet. I know Joanna wants me to display a painting, but I can’t, not yet. I hope she’ll continue to work with me.”

  “Tell her what you just told me. I’m sure she’ll understand.”

  A sigh. “Maybe.”

  “She will.” Les paused. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but Joanna doesn’t really tutor you anymore. She enjoys painting with you. You’re friends.”

  Mo was only half-listening as she typed a reply to the dispatch. Jayne seriously needed to get over her aversion to showing her work. Everyone who visited the nursery gushed about the mural. If Jayne would just—

  “What are you doing?” Jayne asked. “Why are you typing?”

  “Don’t worry, I haven’t sent it.” Mo quickly finished typing her sentence. “But this is what I think you should say.”

  Jayne snatched the comm unit from Mo’s hand and read her handiwork. Her eyes widened. “If the department agrees, please contact me about my fee? Thank you for your interest.” She stared at Mo. “I can’t send this.”

  Why not? Mo had thought it an appropriate way to end the missive. “Come on, Jayne. She’s suggesting you paint a bright, happy mural, not a flaming masterpiece. Not that it wouldn’t be a masterpiece,” Mo hastily added when Jayne’s brows knitted together and her free hand went to her hip. “But it would be a different audience. It wouldn’t be Rymellans who care about art.”

  “I thought you were trying to talk her into it,” Les murmured.

  “They won’t care about the details of the, uh...” Mo flailed around, “technique, and the...uh, brushwork. They’ll either like it or they won’t. They won’t write a flaming critique.”

  Les’s mouth twitched. “What Mo’s trying to say is that your mural could brighten an otherwise trying day for children and their parents.”

  Mo nodded. “Yeah, that’s what I’m trying to say.”

  Jayne didn’t budge.

  “Sending the dispatch doesn’t mean the mural will go forward,” Les said. “The department might not approve it.”

  “It might not be able to afford your fee,” Mo said mischievously, then she stifled a yelp when Les elbowed her.<
br />
  “Do you think Russell knows who I am?” Jayne asked softly.

  Les’s eyes lit up with amusement. “Yes, I’m pretty sure she knows who you are. You’re becoming respectable.”

  Concern flitted across Jayne’s face. “I don’t know what that’s like.”

  Mo grinned at her. “It’s past time you found out.”

  *****

  Jayne smiled down at Eleanor and tickled her tummy. “You ready? You ready?”

  Standing next to her, Mo said, “The next few days are going to feel weird.”

  Jayne nodded. She was looking forward to the nights of uninterrupted sleep, but she’d worry about the twins, hoping they weren’t frightened and crying for their mamas. A surge of anger took her by surprise. She would do anything to protect Eleanor and Kat. How could her parents have been so selfish? Had their son and daughter given them even a second’s pause? Did they think Rymellans would embrace the children of two monsters? Where had they thought it would lead?

  No, she wouldn’t let them ruin today. Here she was, among family and friends, with a daughter in her arms and two Chosens standing nearby. She still wanted to pinch herself every time she glimpsed her Chosen ring as she painted. She’d expected to endure a loveless Joining, but had ended up with a life so filled with love that she sometimes had to stop what she was doing and convince herself that she wasn’t making it up. She’d worried that Eleanor’s arrival would place her on the outside again. Instead, her bond with her Chosens had grown stronger and she adored the two daughters who made her smile, got her up in the middle of the night, and sometimes had her wanting to hug them and groan with frustration at the same time. Her heart had room for more. When Lesley and Mo decided they were ready for a third daughter, Jayne wouldn’t fret. She wouldn’t have time!

  Things had certainly changed since her notification meeting, when she’d wondered how many days she had left until the Thompsons and Middletons had her dragged to an execution site.