Jack clenched his jaw. He’d talked about the war before, and he knew Billy didn’t want to hear about it. “Go on. Finish the job.”
“Fine.” Billy stomped past him and out the door, slamming it behind him.
“He’s going to break that door one day,” Winny muttered.
“Why do you let him get away with it? You’re here with him. Make him take responsibility for what he’s doing.”
“Don’t start with me again, Jack. And don’t tell me what to do with our children.” She sighed. “Go wash up. Dinner’s almost ready.”
He headed into the bedroom, and in the instant he shut the door behind him, he realized he’d done exactly what Billy had done. He should apologize to Winny, admit that he shouldn’t have acted that way. Really, he shouldn’t have gone out for a drink with Joey, either. Every time he went out with that guy he ended up frustrated. He was tired. He was hungry. And he owned the doors, dammit. He could slam them if he wanted.
Through the wall, he heard Winny reassuring their daughter. “Daddy’s just tired, sweetie. Don’t worry about a thing.”
When the bitter feelings had washed over Jack before, he’d been able to control them enough that they never completely took over. But these days, he felt himself increasingly overpowered by an angry sense of helplessness. Lately it took something as insignificant as accidentally cutting a finger at work to set him off. Or Billy missing a one-inch-wide strip of grass. After that, everything around him became a cause to lash out. Every time he told himself to snap out of it, he couldn’t find the strength to do it. He felt strung tight, his chest burning, his jaw clenched until he started waking in the morning with cramps in his face. Everything loosened for a little while with the help of whisky, but when that wore off, things were even worse than before.
Dinner was subdued. Everyone was reacting to his mood. He sensed it, but he wished they’d just talk about whatever they’d done that day and leave him out of it.
“Billy got an A on his grade ten math test,” Winny said, trying to ease the tension.
“That right?” Jack nodded. He’d never been much good at arithmetic unless he could apply it to something real. “Hard works pays off. Good for you, son.”
“I’m gonna try out for the football team.”
Jack liked that, thinking of Billy as being part of a team, making friends while learning skills. The tension in his chest eased a little. “I bet you’ll do well. You’re looking stronger every day.”
Billy’s mouth twitched with pleasure. “Thanks, Dad.”
Jack cut the chicken breast on his plate and took a bite. “And thanks for looking after the yard. It looks good.”
The family’s relief was palpable, and he burned with shame. This wasn’t the man he wanted to be. It wasn’t just Billy; he was pushing Winny away as well. Since they’d moved here, Winny was always trying to make an effort with their neighbours, but the few dinner parties she’d thrown had seen him sitting quietly to the side, unable to stop judging these people, with their happy lives and easy pasts. He didn’t care about the church’s potluck supper. He didn’t care about their children or relatives or cars or anything. He didn’t want them around, and he didn’t want to be there either.
After one such dinner, Winny followed him into their bedroom and leaned against the door, her arms crossed.
“I’ll thank you not to embarrass me in front of my friends.”
“I didn’t do anything.”
“You’re right. You didn’t. You didn’t talk, you didn’t laugh, and you looked hard-pressed to pass the potatoes.”
“They’re not my friends.”
She sighed. “But they could be, Jack. There’s no reason for them not to be. Or anyone else in the neighbourhood either. They’re nice folks, a lot like us.”
“They’re not like us.”
“They are,” she insisted. “And I like them. I want to invite them over again, and I want to accept their invitation for us to go to their house.”
“Go ahead,” he said sullenly.
After a moment, she sat beside him on the bed, studying him. “What’s happening to you?”
“Nothing.”
“Jack, this isn’t you. I mean, we all get a little blue, but this is worse. I rarely see you smile anymore.”
Little Susan popped into his mind. “I still smile.” But Winny was right, and he was sorry.
She left the room, and a sickening thought hardened in his stomach. What if she was nearing the end of her patience with him? What if she did the unthinkable and left him? Without Winny, his life would be cold and dark with no hope of light.
The next day he came home with a bouquet of flowers and a bottle of wine, and they sat in the yard together and watched the sun set while Billy tried to teach Susan how to catch a ball. It was the best night he could remember in a long time, and he watched Winny bloom again every time he laughed. He swore to remember how easy it had been for him to create that feeling for all of them. He wanted to do it again whenever he felt the gloom coming for him.
A few nights later, he surprised the family with a television set, then Billy approached him about getting a job at the garage where Jack worked after he finished high school.
“You want to be a mechanic like your old man?”
“Yeah. I think so.”
But Billy had Mary’s dark, brooding side, and Jack had his own deep resentment. The truces were hard for both of them to keep.
thirty-nine WINNY
Winny was sitting on the sofa with her head in her hands when Jack came home on the evening of Billy’s eighteenth birthday. The sound of the door closing behind him sent nervous butterflies through her chest. She was so tired of feeling unhappy, of walking on eggshells whenever he was around. It was too much like living at Mistress Adams’s farm, when she’d had to look over her shoulder all the time.
She had originally planned not to say anything tonight. Not about how she was feeling. A birthday was supposed to be fun, and she wanted to make Billy feel special. She’d thought it might even be a night for mending fences between Jack and Billy. But after this afternoon, she couldn’t just pretend everything was all right.
Jack knelt beside her chair, regarding her closely. “Are you crying? What’s the matter, Winny?”
“I don’t know.” She lifted her head, wiped the tears off her face. “What’s the matter with you?”
He pulled back a little. “Nothing’s wrong with me. I’ve been working all day. You don’t see me sitting around, crying.”
“No, no, you don’t get to say that. I don’t see you having any emotions at all other than anger. I used to know you so well, but I have no idea what you’re thinking anymore.” She studied him. “I know you’re mad about something, but you won’t tell me, and—” She pressed her hand against her chest. “I remember this feeling.”
“What feeling?”
“Like I’m all alone.”
He stood and went to the sideboard, poured himself a glass of whisky. It was his regular routine these days. “What are you talking about? You have the children. You have me.”
“No, I don’t,” she said. “Susan is all I have. You won’t talk to me, and Billy looked like he’d be happy to murder me when he got home today.”
Anger burned in Jack’s cheeks. “Where’s that boy? I’ll teach him—”
“Stop it, Jack. Just stop.” He was missing the point. Again. She reached for his hand. “The two of you fight too much these days, and I can’t stand it. I don’t understand. We have a beautiful life. Why are you tearing it apart? What’s happening?”
She saw concern flash in his eyes, and her fingertips went to his warm, stubbled cheek. “Come back to me, Jack,” she whispered, a tear rolling down her face. “I need you.”
“I don’t know how,” he admitted quietly. “I love you, Winny. I never meant to hurt you. I will try harder.” He wiped her tear away with his thumb. “I really will try.”
She paused then set her mouth tight
. “I hope so, but the thing is, I can’t wait. I need you to start trying tonight. I’ve… I’ve never seen Billy this way. He says he has something to talk about with us after supper, and that’s all he said. He wouldn’t even look at me.”
As they sat down at the table for their meal, Billy was like a cold, silent boulder. Jack did his best, asking him about his day, about his interests, about the news, but Billy refused to engage. Winny and Susan fluttered around the table and the kitchen, serving roast chicken and potatoes, Billy’s favourite. When it was time to light the candles for the cake, Winny’s fingers trembled, but she put on a smile and came back to the dining room, singing.
“Happy birthday to you! Happy birthday to you!” Susan and Jack joined in. “Happy birthday, dear Billy. Happy birthday to you!”
Billy’s scowl softened briefly, and Winny tried desperately to make everything all right with extra hugs and kisses. Susan followed her, bouncing to her brother’s side and presenting him with a picture she’d drawn that day. Billy leaned down and hugged Susan tight.
“Susan, you are the one good thing in this world. I love you so much,” he said. “And guess what? I brought you something.”
“It’s not my birthday,” Susan objected, but delight danced in her eyes.
“No, but you are very special, and you deserve it. I put it on your bed, and I’m wondering if you could go play with it in there for a little while. I need to talk to Mum and Dad for a few minutes.”
Winny’s stomach dropped, and Susan frowned. “Grown-up talk?”
“That’s right.”
She tilted her head. “I guess you’re a grown-up now. But you have to blow out the candles first.”
Billy would do anything for his sister, Winny thought, watching him blow out the little flames. Susan giggled, satisfied, then she gave him another hug before skipping off to her room. When she was gone, Billy reached into his pocket and pulled out an envelope.
“I have two things to discuss tonight,” he said, sounding much older than eighteen. “First, I am leaving. Now that I’m eighteen, I’m joining the army.”
Winny felt her chest tighten. No.
Jack’s expression was unreadable, but his jaw was clenched.
Billy faced Jack. “You fought for our country, and if the time comes, so will I. I leave in the morning. That’s all I have to say about that. Now, in order to join the military, I needed to provide identification, obviously. That meant I had to produce a birth certificate.” He slid a piece of paper out of the envelope. “That’s the second thing I want to discuss.”
There on the table were his adoption papers. Winny glanced at Jack, who had turned a pale shade of green.
“Who are you people?” Billy asked, matter-of-fact. “You’re not my parents.”
Winny clamped her mouth shut, feeling like she might be sick. She had tried everything she could think of to prevent this moment from ever happening.
Jack cleared his throat. “All right, Billy. I am your mother’s brother,” he said evenly. “This is your mother’s best friend.”
Billy folded his arms. “And where is my mother?”
I’m right here, Winny wanted to say. Jack opened his mouth to respond, but she laid a hand on his forearm and braced herself. It was her turn. “She died just after you were born, Billy. She asked me to find you and raise you as my own. I found you at an orphanage and adopted you when you were a year and a half old.”
“Why is Uncle Jeffrey’s name on this paper?”
“Back then I wasn’t married, and we thought it would be easier for me to adopt you if I was. Uncle Jeffrey stepped in to help. That was before he and Charlotte were even dating.”
Billy turned to Jack. “Where were you all this time?”
Jack hesitated, and she knew what he was thinking. Telling Billy he was adopted was one thing. Telling him they’d been Home Children was an entirely different thing.
“That’s complicated, but basically I was in the army. All this happened just before the war started.”
“So my mother is dead. Who is my father?”
Winny was fighting a losing battle against her tears, and they threatened to overflow. “I don’t know. I don’t know. I’m so sorry, Billy. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. It’s my fault. I thought—”
Billy slammed the table with his hand, sending a jolt through Winny. “You didn’t think, did you?”
“Listen, kid.” Jack held a hand toward Winny. “This is your mother. Before my sister died, she begged her to find you. This incredible woman turned her world upside down so she could keep you, and after that she pretty much dedicated every minute of her life to you. Your father, from what I know, was a son of a bitch, and we hope he’s dead. But we’ve given you a great life. You never suffered a day in your life, and you have no idea what that’s like.”
“So tell me about it.”
“No,” Winny said, blinking away her tears. “You do not need to know about our past lives. All that matters is we made sure yours was better than ours.”
Billy pushed his chair back under the table. “You took great care of me, but you lied to me every single day of my life.”
“We never lied!” she cried, jumping to her feet. “We did what we thought was best for you.”
“Which was to lie.”
“Sit down, Billy,” Jack said, rising. “We’re not done here.”
“No? Why not? You want to finally fill me in on the details of who you really are?”
Winny could see Jack wavering. “Jack.”
He closed his eyes briefly, but didn’t speak.
“What happened to us makes no difference about who you are, Billy,” Winny said. “You’re our son, and we love you. We always will.”
“That’s not enough. Don’t you understand? When they asked me for my identification papers, and I realized I had none, I felt like I didn’t even exist. You have no idea what it’s like not to know who you are.”
If he only knew how wrong he was. If he only understood how much he was ripping her apart by saying things like that.
“I know you’re mad right now, but someday you’ll understand we did it for you. We did it all for you.”
Billy took a step away from the table. “I’m not waiting for tomorrow morning. I’m leaving tonight.”
“What?” she cried, following him to the base of the stairs. “No! Billy!”
He turned his back and marched upstairs.
“Please, Billy,” she called after him, her knees starting to buckle. “Please don’t go.”
Jack put his arm around her, and she held on to him, hearing the fast thump of his heartbeat against her ear. Moments later, Billy returned, his bag over his shoulder.
“Well. That’s it, then. I’m going.” His voice caught and he cleared his throat. “I don’t want you to think I don’t appreciate everything you did for me. But you always taught me not to lie. You said I should never keep secrets from the people I loved.” He bit his lower lip so hard his teeth left a white line. “And I just don’t know how I could live here any longer, knowing you don’t care enough about me to tell me the simple truth of where I came from.”
“Billy?” Susan stood at the bottom of the stairs, pale as a ghost.
Billy reached her in three strides and lifted her against him. “I’m sorry, Susan. I’m so sorry, but I have to go.”
“But where?”
“I’m going far away. But I promise to write to you.”
“Don’t go!” She looked at Winny, anguish in her eyes. “Mummy? What’s happening?”
“I can’t stay here any longer,” Billy said, setting her on her feet. “I love you, baby sister. Never forget that.”
He turned again, leaving her alone to weep. Then he walked past Winny and Jack, strode out the door, and disappeared into the night.
PART – five –
forty WINNY
— Present Day —
Silence hangs over the kitchen, then Jamie speaks. “He never cam
e back, did he?”
“No. I haven’t seen Billy in sixty-three years.” My eyes well up at this realization. “He’s been out of my life much longer than he was in it.”
Chrissie puts her arm around me. “Oh, Gran. It wasn’t your fault.”
But she’s wrong, and I close my arthritic fingers into fists. “Wasn’t it? Billy left because of all the secrets. For years, I’ve asked myself why I kept everything from him. Was I sparing him the knowledge that his true mother was dead, or had I feared he might leave me if he knew? If I had told him the truth, then what?”
Chrissie sniffs. “Gran, I kind of understand why Billy was so upset. I know it might be a bit harsh of me to mention right now, but he wasn’t the only one who was kept in the dark for so many years.”
“Mom!” Jamie exclaims. “It’s not Gran’s fault.”
“But why did we have to wait so long to hear this story?” Chrissie asks tentatively. “I never even knew I had an uncle until all this. I have to admit that it hurts, finding out this way.”
“I’m sorry, sweetheart. I never meant to hurt you or anyone else.”
“I know you didn’t. And I’m sorry to mention it. It’s just that I’ve been thinking a lot about Mom lately, and I wonder what she would have said if she’d known all this. It would have been so nice to talk about all this as a family. To learn about you and Pop and all of our pasts when she was still here.” She lets out a long breath, sounding sad. “I understand why you wanted to protect us, but I’m sorry you felt like you couldn’t share it with us. We love you, and we would have wanted to help you however we could.”
I look down. “We were ashamed of who we were. We didn’t want the people we loved to see us as we’d been before. If we kept all that history to ourselves, we could just be who we wanted to be. It was easier to forget all the bad and skip ahead to the good, telling everyone a vague story about moving from Ireland as a child, becoming a nurse, marrying the man I loved, and having a beautiful daughter. If a story is dull, no one will ask questions, and that was perfect for me, because I didn’t want to answer any.”
The Forgotten Home Child Page 28
