by G M Barlean
“That’s what we want to help you with, sweetheart.” Josie reached out her hand, and then the others did the same.
They scooted near her and rubbed her shoulders and arms. Their faces filled with empathy. Gloria could feel tears building, then cascading down her cheeks as the love poured out to her from each old woman.
From the doorway behind them, Debbie’s voice turned their heads. “Guess I wasn’t dying after all!”
“We knew you weren’t,” Josie smiled.
“Get over here. Gloria needs our help,” Betty told Debbie.
Debbie shuffled over and pulled up a chair. “You need to hear the rest of the story so you can understand. Are you ready to listen today?”
Gloria shrugged and sighed heavily. “I guess.”
Debbie began. “Of course, we didn’t know Naomi was pregnant. We wouldn’t have practically killed her if we’d known that. Doug hadn’t known either.” Debbie shook her head. “It wasn’t until she was admitted at Menninger’s and they did a full physical that we found out. Then the doctors told Doug. He went to see Naomi, and she took great delight in making sure he knew it wasn’t his baby. He knew anyway, of course. He and Naomi hadn’t done anything more than share a roof for years.”
“So, who was the father?” Gloria threw up her hands. How could this get any worse?
“See, that’s what we need you to understand, Gloria. Father is a term of respect. It can only be given to the man who raised you. This other guy is a sperm donor,” Betty said as she squeezed Gloria’s arm.
Gloria nodded, but all this information was too fresh. She wasn’t ready to come to terms with it. “I’d still like to know who.”
“Well, either Darby or Hank, we suspect. We never had them do a blood test. Didn’t really think it mattered,” Tanya offered.
“We?” Gloria asked.
“Yes, we. Debbie told us all about Naomi being in the mental hospital. Then she told us when they found out Naomi was pregnant. From that point on, we were on a mission. All of us and Doug made it our top priority to find a good family for the baby.” Josie smiled proudly. “But very hush-hush. No one could know. It was a private adoption. Doug took care of legal issues, of course.”
“What about Naomi?” Gloria asked. “Didn’t she care at all?”
“Honey, Naomi was so damn crazy with rage they had to keep her in a straightjacket most of the time. Since she was pregnant, they couldn’t sedate her, and Naomi refused termination. She wanted to rub Doug’s nose in the fact that she was pregnant by another man. It was fine by Doug anyway. He was sure there was some reason you were joining this world.” Debbie smiled with pride.
“Turns out, he was right. It’s all come full circle now.” Betty’s face glowed at Gloria.
“Your adoptive father is my cousin twice removed, dear,” Debbie offered.
Gloria shook her head. The information wasn’t even sinking in at this point. Nothing made sense at all. It would take some time to process this.
“The day you came into this world and we put you in your parents’ arms… it was one of the happiest days in all our lives.” Betty beamed.
“You were all there?” Gloria could hardly believe what she was hearing. Her parents had known all this for so many years. Gloria’s first thoughts were of their betrayal, but how could have they told her about all of this? It would have been too much for a child to know. Too much for a teenager. It was too much now. She really couldn’t blame them.
“Yes, we were all there when your real mother and father first held you. Doug was there, too. It was a beautiful day.” Josie gazed into Gloria’s eyes.
“But then we had to stay away. It was hard, but there wasn’t any way we could keep showing up in your life. It would make us all have to lie too much. We didn’t want to do that. You needed a fresh start to life. And we needed to put that part of our lives behind us.” Debbie’s face grew stern.
Gloria understood.
“Your parents love you with all their heart. You know that, don’t you, Gloria?” Debbie asked.
Yes. She knew this. She’d never wanted for love or attention. She knew she was blessed.
“Those people who raised you are the only parents you ever need to care about. Naomi was just the oven you cooked in. Sex and simple biology isn’t what makes a parent. It’s sleepless nights and trips to the doctor, sitting at ball games, band concerts, and teacher’s conferences that make a parent. You know this, Gloria. I know you do.” Debbie patted her hand.
Gloria was sobbing. Through her tears she managed to say, “My parents gave me so much—everything. They would still do anything for me. They love me no matter what.” Tears flowed down Gloria’s face and she sank back in her chair in exhaustion.
“That’s exactly right! You have no reason to be upset about your birth parents. Forget them! They are nothing to you. You have a wonderful family who will always be there for you. You are blessed. And I know you had a wonderful childhood.”
Gloria wiped the tears from her cheeks. She had had a wonderful childhood. Memories of birthday parties and sleepovers, vacations and Christmases. Grandparents, aunts, uncles, and cousins. And love. She remembered always feeling loved.
“We knew what was going on in your life, too. Your mother sent me a Christmas card every year and told me about you.” Debbie grinned. “I shared the information with all the others.” She pointed at the women.
Gloria shook her head in amazement as it all sank in.
“We were beyond happy something so beautiful came from something so ugly.”
Gloria looked up, her eyes swollen from tears, her throat tight from holding back her sobs. The women reached out to rub her shoulders and squeeze her hands again. These women. She had them to thank for finding her a wonderful life.
“Your life is far better than you imagine, Gloria,” Betty said. “You have it all, you know. A new fellow in your life, a good job, a book on your horizon, and parents who love you.” She paused. “And we all love you, too.”
“Yes, we do,” Tanya said as a big silver tear ran down her creased cheek.
“More than you can know,” Josie added, her round face beaming.
“And have for a long time.” Debbie reached out and enveloped Gloria in a warm hug.
On Gloria’s drive back to Rosewood, one desire overshadowed every other. She wanted to call her mother. She’d put off talking to her for the last few weeks. She’d let the poor woman’s calls go to voice mail and had been tight-lipped about her relationship with the old women. Now her hunger to know who her birth mother was had been quelled. She understood the information was nothing more than simple facts. A piece of knowledge she would carry with her. It didn’t change anything truly important. And her parents, the people who loved and nurtured her, would always be there for her. It was what mattered most of all.
The phone rang only twice before she heard the beautiful voice she hadn’t even realized she missed so much.
“Gloria? What a surprise for you to call me. Is everything okay?”
“Mom, everything is better than okay.”
“Well, that’s good. What did you need, dear?”
“Just to tell you how much I love you.”
Chapter 40
It took another year after her book was written before she had the courage to put an end to one specific chapter of her life.
Gloria knew she was blessed. Her parents were beyond important, and without any reservation the only people she would ever call or consider to be her mother and father.
Yet…
Just knowing Naomi Talbot still existed in a psychiatric ward in Houston, Texas, was more than Gloria could stand. She had to meet her. See her for herself. She had to put a face to the genetics she’d sprung from. This was the woman who for years she had wondered about. The woman who she thought would make such an impact on her life. Of course, Gloria had been wrong. Birth was the sole impact the woman had made. Yet something itched at the inside of her brain and made her
want to lay eyes on Naomi once and for all.
Ronnie supported the notion. But Ronnie was always her biggest fan. They were in love and as far as Gloria could tell, they always would be.
She even managed to persuade the four old women the visit was a good idea. Debbie was the hardest to convince. But in the end she said, “Some people need to stare at a train wreck. Can’t blame you. You’re only human.”
It was when Gloria’s mother said, “Yes. You should go. See her for yourself. You’re strong enough, now,” that Gloria knew it was the right thing to do.
And she didn’t do it alone. Ronnie was right by her side. Like he always was.
The thirteen-hour drive down to Houston was the most painful road trip Gloria had ever taken. Ronnie tried to keep it light, but Gloria couldn’t stop reviewing all the things she knew about Naomi—such horrible things.
She’d called down to Menninger’s and made arrangements to visit Naomi. The staff had told her that although Naomi remained aggressive and unstable, it would be safe for her to visit. It was an odd thing to be assured one’s birth mother would probably not attack her.
Ronnie and Gloria held hands as they walked down the hallway to a common area. The nurse had told them Naomi sat by a window most every day.
Just staring out at a sallow tree.
Gloria spotted her right away. Still some red to her white hair. Terribly obese now. Rolls of fat hanging over the sides of her wheelchair. A long scar running down the side of her forehead. Maybe from being smacked by a trophy or some kind of lobotomy, but Gloria didn’t ask to confirm. It didn’t matter.
She and Ronnie stood about ten feet away, watching Naomi as she angrily mumbled to herself and occasionally tapped on the windowpane.
“Guess we should be glad you’re a runner. You probably won’t ever get fat. Will you?” Ronnie nudged Gloria and she gave him “the look” as he called it. “Nah. I’m sure you’ll always be gorgeous.” He put his arm around her shoulder and pulled her in close as he chuckled. “You know I’m joking, right?”
She knew. She just wasn’t in a joking mood. There really wasn’t anything to lighten this moment. “Ronnie, I think I want to talk to her.” Gloria studied the woman by the window. “Or at least get close enough so she can see me. I don’t know why, but I need her to know I was here. That I exist.”
Ronnie inhaled and nodded. “I’m right by your side.”
She squeezed his hand and they made a slow approach to the fat woman in the wheelchair.
Gloria pulled up a chair beside Naomi’s wheelchair and watched her, waiting to see if she’d acknowledge a visitor.
For several minutes, Naomi didn’t look at Gloria sitting right beside her. The old woman kept tapping the windowpane with one fat finger, staring angrily with squinted eyes at the tree with the weeping branches and yellowish leaves.
Then Naomi’s eyes darted in Gloria’s direction. She turned her head and stared hard at her. Her lips moved as she mumbled to herself… or cursed Gloria. Then the old hag looked back out the window, still scowling, still glaring at the sallow tree.
For a moment, Gloria considered getting up and leaving. Maybe it was enough to see the woman. As she assessed her, Gloria noticed some similarities. Their hands seemed to have a similar shape. Maybe their noses were similar, too. It was hard to tell as Naomi was so old and rotund.
Gloria sighed and was about to stand up when Naomi spoke in a creaking voice.
“Ugly thing, a sallow tree. Long, dirty branches hanging down. Notice how nothing can grow near it. It takes up all the space around it, choking everything else out. Filthy tree. Horrible weed. Symbol of death.”
Gloria shuddered at the sound of Naomi’s voice, but followed her gaze out the window to look at the tree. It was true. It sat in the middle of the courtyard all by itself. Shed leaves and stray branches lay around the tree, dirtying the grounds. No grass could grow beneath it for lack of sunlight. Gloria had read a sallow tree in drought stretches its roots until it can find a water source, greedily undermining a home’s foundation if necessary. Quite a force to be reckoned with. Interesting Naomi would feel so agitated by it. It sounded a lot like her.
Gloria felt Ronnie’s hand on her shoulder. It gave her courage to speak to the old woman.
“Naomi, my name is Gloria. You are my birth mother.” The words tasted odd in her mouth.
Ronnie gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze. She was glad she’d said it. It was done.
Naomi nodded as though she already knew it. She glanced over at Gloria and looked her up and down, then looked back out the window as though Gloria hadn’t measured up.
Gloria shrugged. This woman’s opinion did not matter to her. She started to stand, but Naomi’s voice stopped her.
“You look kinda like me when I was young. Got any kids?” Naomi stared back at Ronnie.
“No.” Gloria gripped Ronnie’s hand in her own.
“Good,” Naomi said. “Because you or your brats can’t inherit any of my money, anyway.” She turned back to her visual argument with the tree outside the window.
Gloria stared at Naomi for a moment, then felt Ronnie tugging at her.
“Let’s go, hon,” he said.
For a moment, she wanted to scream at the old woman: I don’t want your damn money or anything to do with you! Instead, she nodded at Ronnie. It was time to go. Time to let go. To move on. And to be very, very grateful she hadn’t been raised by Naomi Talbot.
Yet as they walked out the doors of the mental hospital, Gloria knew deep in her gut she would visit Naomi again someday.
About the Author
Small rural towns and Midwestern perspectives are something G. M. Barlean knows well. She was a farmer’s daughter for the first twenty-one years of her life, and a farmer’s wife for the next twenty-nine and counting.
It sometimes takes a curious mind and a wild imagination to stay entertained in a one-stoplight town. However, don’t be fooled. Interesting things can happen anywhere—especially in Barlean’s books. Be assured, all is good in the simple lives of Barlean and her family, but conflict is alive and well in her novels.
Although Barlean’s education is in business and many career options she has chosen over the years have enlisted those skills, she’s also gravitated to creative endeavors. Barlean is a self-taught photographer who ran a successful photography studio for many years. She managed an opera house where she organized many musically themed events and worked with entrepreneurs as the director of her town’s local chamber of commerce.
Now Barlean enjoys mowing her large yard out in the country, a little army sergeant of a Schnauzer, and a couple of shedding cats. She’s attended culinary school where she discovered opening a restaurant was not her life dream, after all. She continues to enjoy cooking and entertaining her family and friends. Her husband tolerates all her changing moods and adventures like the good soul he is. Barlean’s children are grown and very busy with their own lives. Travel is always on the agenda and mystery and suspense are always on her mind.
GMBarlean.com
Less Traveled Roads Publishing
Amazon
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Other Novels by G. M. Barlean
Prelude—Casting Stones
Casting Stones, the Novel
Conclusions—Casting Stones
Casting Stones, Unabridged Version
Recipes For Revenge, A Four Course Novel
Dead Blow
Available in print and digital versions on Amazon, Barnes & Nobel, Kobo, Smashwords, and iBooks.
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