Family Secrets

by Zina Abbott

  Chapter 23 – Christy

  The next day, Mom asked me if I enjoyed my visit with Aunt Pat. She tried to behave cheerful and unconcerned, but I could sense her uneasiness over what I may have learned. I told her we looked at some pictures. I didn’t tell her which pictures. I was deliberately vague. I was still too annoyed with Mom to share the details of what my aunt and I had discussed. At that point, my angry, rebellious attitude dominated my words and actions. I decided that if Dad could be secretive about what he knew, so could I.

  That was all that was said about my visit by either of us that day.

  Another week passed. During that time, I considered writing to Sophie, Sherrie’s aunt and my great-aunt. It amazed me to realize I had these relatives that I was never aware of before. Perhaps this stranger who looked so much like my birth mother, who in turn looked so much like me, could tell me more. Assuming she was still alive and she answered my letter, of course. Would she even remember who I was?

  At the same time, I felt an incredible sadness about how my relationship with my parents was falling apart.

  What was happening between me and Mom was worst of all. I hated it. The previous weeks I had tried my best to focus on my school work and my job in an effort give my brain a chance to work out a successful solution. But, time moved too fast for everything that was on my mind. I kept wondering how I was going to get through finals and be ready for the wedding while dealing with these painful and confusing family issues.

  On our Friday night date after I finished with the dinner shift at the restaurant, I once again poured out my feelings to Rob. I hoped he wasn’t getting impatient with all my concerns. Then again, I decided that if he planned to spend the rest of his life with me, he probably should get used to it.

  “Christy, honey,” Rob gently said in response, “you know you can’t choose who your parents are, or control what happened years ago when you were a small child. You can only choose whether or not to accept your parents for who they are now. Only you can decide whether or not to love the family you have, even if they’re not perfect. After all, none of us are perfect.”

  I knew Rob was right. However, knowing something and feeling it in my heart were two different things. After he brought me home, I spent a sleepless night in bed tossing about as I mulled everything I had learned over in my mind.

  I was still thinking about it Saturday morning when I walked into the kitchen to make some breakfast. Mom was sitting alone at the kitchen table. Even though she smiled and greeted me cheerfully, I could see the look of uncertainty in her eyes. Tension knotted her shoulders. Her fingers fidgeted. Out of habit, we shared our usual morning small talk, but our conversation was stilted and forced. I missed the warm and comfortable relationship that used to wrap us like an old, comfortable bathrobe. I suspected she felt the same way.

  I hated it.

  I walked toward the laundry room, but paused and turned back to study the back of Mom’s head and shoulders as she stared listlessly out the window.

  That’s when it struck me how incredibly sad my mother was over this situation. No matter what had happened or what she had told me, she had never meant to hurt me. She loved me. I knew that. She also loved my father. But, because the very truths that she had shared with me were the same details my father did not want me to know, she could not confide in him about this situation like I could with Rob. And, yes, I did know after talking to Aunt Pat that it was my father, not Mom, who wanted to keep the past a secret.

  Because she loved me and trusted me, she had taken a chance and shared a portion of the truth with me. She was so nervous at the time as she struggled to find the right words to explain the adoption to me, maybe it came out different than what she had intended to say. Maybe I was the one who misunderstood. Either way, I repaid her by leaving her standing alone, wondering if I still loved her.

  I did love my mother. Yet, I had allowed this whole situation to come between us. My immaturity and overreactions were hurting her and making my life miserable, too.

  Then, in a flash of clarity that I sensed more than rationally thought through, I knew what I needed to do. I was the one who needed to tear down this wall between us.

  I walked up behind Mom and wrapped my arms around her neck in an embrace. I caressed the back of Mom’s head with my cheek. I felt her hands reach for my arms and gently squeeze them in response. She leaned her head into my caress.

  “I love you, Mom,” I leaned over and whispered in her ear.

  “Oh, Christy, I love you, too.

  “I know, Mom,” I said, trying to reassure her. “Mom, I know that Sherrie was married to Dad and that she was my birth mother. I know I look a lot like her and I inherited her singing voice. I also know that once I was back with you and Dad, you accepted me as your daughter. I know you love me only as a mother can, enough to trust me with the truth about me as a baby. You are the only mother I want. You are my real mother. Thank you for everything you did so I can be your real daughter.”

  Mom’s hands tightened their grasp on my arms. She trembled beneath my embrace. Sobs shook her body. I tightened my arms around my mother even more as I, too, began to cry.

  An aura of relief and peace flowed over me as the barrier of doubt that had come between us the previous few weeks melted away.

  As I once again felt the strength of my mother’s love, my confidence about my place in the family was restored. That was all I needed. I decided then to set my unanswered questions aside.

  I even decided to let go my concerns about my father’s secrets. For some reason, it was important to him to not talk about it, so I chose to honor that. If he changed his mind sometime in the future and shared them, fine. If not, that was okay, too.

  What was in the past was in the past, anyway. I only wanted move forward and prepare for my future with Rob.

  Chapter 24 – Jennie

  “Trish, I’m in trouble and need your help.”

  Breathless with worry, Jennie ignored the customer sale she was interrupting.

  Frowning, Trish excused herself and stepped to a corner with Jennie.

  “Trish, I’m sorry, but I have a big problem. My husband and our son are down at my in-laws. My mother-in-law just called to tell me my husband is headed back to his base first thing tomorrow morning. He’s planning to take my son with him unless I come and get him first. I know this sounds wild, but it’s serious.”

  “Jennie, are you kidding me?” Trish’s expression flowed from annoyance to wavering between skepticism and concern.

  “I wish I was,” Jennie said, fighting back tears. “I have to leave now so I can get to my in-laws in time to bring my son home. I know I’m leaving you in the lurch, but please try to understand. I’ll do my best to be back tomorrow afternoon and catch the store up.”

  Jennie knew how unbelievable her story sounded as she tried to tell enough to convince her boss of the seriousness of the situation. She did not want to shove her personal problems into the woman’s face even though she knew she had given Trish a strong indication that her home life was less than perfect. Jennie sighed with relief when Trish reached her arm around Jennie and gave her shoulder a hug.

  “Go get your son, Jennie. We’ll make do until tomorrow afternoon.”

  “Thank you, Trish. I am so sorry about this.”

  “Go!” Trish waved Jennie away with both hands. “See you tomorrow.”

  “Go where? Are you leaving for your lunch break or are you off for the day? Looks like I barely caught you.”

  Both Jennie and Trish turned at the sound of Quinn’s voice. Quinn stood on the other side of the counter with his hair stuck to his head and a questioning look on his face. He held a cycling helmet in one hand and a backpack hung off his shoulder. His head turned from one woman to the other, waiting for an answer.

  “Quinn!” Jennie stammered. “What are you doing here?”

  “I brought by the notes from last Tuesday’s class. I thought you might want them before next Tuesday. I fi
gured you were probably working, so I took the chance and dropped by.”

  “Follow me to the parking lot,” Jennie beckoned him with a wave of her hand. She led him through the storage room and out the rear door. Once in the parking lot, she turned to face Quinn, debating how much to tell him.

  “Thanks for the notes, Quinn,” she said as she accepted the papers he handed her. “I may need you to cover for me again this coming week. I have to pick up my son. He’s with his father and his other grandparents and I just found out I need to leave right now and bring him back home tonight.”

  Jennie read the curiosity written all over Quinn’s face.

  “Since I’m taking off work early today, I have to make it up tomorrow,” she continued. I’m not sure what I’m going to be dealing with, or how soon I can get back to school, especially with how work is this time of year.”

  Not wanting to explain more, she turned to walk toward her car. “I really appreciate your help,” she concluded, looking over her shoulder at him.

  “Sure,” Quinn said as he raked his fingers through his hair and followed her. Full of concern but unsure of what was really going on, he reached out and gently grasped her arm. “Where do you have to go? Didn’t you tell me your in-laws live somewhere down south?”

  “Yes. San Luis Obispo. I need to get going, Quinn.”

  Jennie reached for her keys to unlock her car. Quinn dropped his hand

  “Wait a minute, Jen. That is really a long drive, especially if you’re planning to turn around and drive straight back home. And you’ve been working most of today, haven’t you? Is there any way I can help? Would you like me to go with you and help drive?”

  Quinn’s offer stopped Jennie short. She turned to study his face. She could see he was serious about wanting to help.

  A surge of longing coursed through Jennie. She looked away, fearing that Quinn would see it in her eyes.

  Jennie knew she would enjoy being with him and having him to talk to on the drive. It would be such a relief to feel his friendship and support as she dealt with whatever she found herself facing once she arrived at her mother-in-law’s home.

  But, she knew she did not dare involve Quinn in this. Under no circumstances would she set herself up to have Gerald or her in-laws get the wrong impression. After all she had said about Gerald’s affair, how would it look to Gerald or his mother if she showed up to rescue Garrett with a male friend in tow?

  “I appreciate the offer, but no,” Jennie smiled as she shook her head. “I need to do this by myself.”

  Just then, Rob drove up in his Highlander. One of Garrett’s car seats was visible in the center of the back seat. Rob rolled down the passenger window as he looked back and forth between Jennie and Quinn, his face expressing his concern.

  Jennie wondered what might be going through her father’s mind at the sight of his married daughter alone with another man in an isolated back parking lot.

  “Dad, this is Quinn Jacobson, one of my study partners from history class,” Jennie said as she cleared her throat. “He brought me a copy of his notes from last Tuesday’s class. Quinn, this is my father, Rob Graves.”

  “Nice to meet you, Quinn,” Rob nodded. Quinn responded with a nod and a wave. Then, turning to Jennie, Rob’s expression grew serious.

  “Lock your car, sweetie, and get in. Your mom will bring a friend to pick up your car and take it back to the house later. I have a full tank of gas and there’s a sandwich for you in the back. You and I are going to go pick up Garrett.”

  Jennie let out a sigh of relief. She turned to Quinn.

  “Thanks for everything, Quinn. I’ll get back to you when I can.”

  “Sure, glad to help,” Quinn gave her his lop-sided smile as he started backing away. “I’m glad you have someone to go with you. I’ll cover the history class.”

  Jennie jumped into the passenger seat and clicked the seatbelt in place with one hand as she waved to Quinn with the other.

  Once they were out of the parking lot and on the other side of the mini-mall, Rod turned to Jennie with a questioning look. “What’s going on with you and this Quinn?”

  “Nothing, Dad.” Jennie sat back in her seat and rubbed her eyes. “He is just a really nice guy in my history class who is part of my study group. He’s helping me out now that my work is getting busy.”

  “He looks a little older than your average freshman.”

  Trust Dad to notice a little detail like that, Jennie thought. Jennie had already caught on that for some reason, men really tune in on other men, especially when it came to their sweethearts or their daughters. She wondered what her father would have said to her about Gerald if the two had met before the impulsive wedding in Las Vegas.

  “He is. He’s closer to my age, probably a year or two older than I am,” Jennie smiled. “Like me, he’s returning to school. I think he had a business that failed after the economy went downhill and now he has decided he needs a diploma on the wall in order to get a decent job. He likes to hang out with me because I’m a married woman who is ‘safe,’ as he puts it, and won’t distract him from his educational goals.”

  “Umm-humm,” Rob said, his voice edged with skepticism. “Just be careful, Jennie. Until you get things settled between you and Gerald, you don’t need any complications with another man.”

  “I hear you, Dad. I know that if I were to get involved with someone else, I wouldn’t be any different than Gerald and I wouldn’t have any room to complain about his choices. I’m not going to go there. Quinn and I are just friends.”

  Rob focused on the traffic for a few minutes before he spoke again. “Why don’t you eat your sandwich and then try to get some sleep. It’s going to be a long night. I have enough seniority and ‘use it or lose it’ days on the books that I can take the next day or two off to catch up on my sleep. But, if you hope to keep your job, you need to return to work tomorrow. Sleep while you can.”

  “Thanks, Dad.”

  Jennie ate her sandwich in silence, trying to calm the apprehension eating away at her. Then, following her father’s suggestion, she punched her jacket into a pillow and wedged it between the seatback and the doorframe. She tried to fall asleep. Instead, her mind spiraled out of control with worry. Why was Gerald doing this to her and Garrett?

  To distract herself, she forced her mine to review the stories that Grandpa Mike had shared about his return from Vietnam.

  Chapter 25 – Mike

  I saw enough new grunts get killed right after arriving in-country to know that part of the saying was true. I learned the hard way about short-timers catching a bullet in their last month. Eleven days before my DEROS, I was hit three times. Obviously, I lived through it, but for awhile, I wasn’t so sure I would.

  The one shot hit me in the chest, just to the right of the flak jacket zipper. It’s so hot in Nam, we often left our flak jackets open, if we wore them at all. That day, I had my jacket on, but unzipped. Thankfully, the bullet hit where it did. If it had gotten me dead-center in the chest, I wouldn’t be here to tell you about it. As it was, I thought I was dead, at first, because it knocked me flat on my back and I couldn’t breathe. I realized later that the force of the bullet had knocked the wind out of me. Another bullet grazed my right thigh and a third caught my left shoulder. It was a through and through. If I weren’t such a short-timer, they would have sent me back to my squad after my days in sick-call. Instead, they decided to discharge me and send me home a few days early.

  Of course, before they cut me lose, they sent me to this big meeting where they tried to convince me to re-up. I was promised a month of leave, another stripe and a pay raise if I would serve another tour of duty in-country. I told them, “No thanks, boys, I’ve had enough of Nam. I’m going home.”

  Being back in the States wasn’t as great as I thought it would be. There was no hero’s welcome for us. You would have thought we were the enemy, not the communists in North Vietnam.

  We encountered a whole different attitude
than when we left to go over. From what I’ve been able to figure out, ever since the Tet Offensive, people at home really turned against the war. Tet happened everywhere across Nam, so it didn’t matter where the war correspondents were, they had plenty of newsworthy events to cover. In order to make a name for themselves, they featured the most sensational battle scenes and the most gruesome injuries to the folks back home. For the first time, the American people saw what was really going on over there. That turned public opinion against the war and against us men who fought in it. Instead of us being respected and appreciated for the sacrifices we made for our country, we were booed and denounced as baby killers and sadistic pawns of a government gone bad. It was tough for me to swallow.

  Once I arrived home, I knew I could never operate equipment again without thinking of Nam. I decided to work at the Post Office. As another federal agency, I could apply my years in the Army toward my retirement and pay level.

  Even there, it was best not to say too much about being in the war. Too many non-veteran employees stereotyped all Vietnam vets as crazy. Sure, some of us had our problems. Some idiot at work would drop a plastic letter tray behind me and the sharp report sounded like gunfire. I would immediately drop to the floor or assume a fighting stance, ready to attack the enemy that was threatening me. Those who had never been in combat either thought it was funny or muttered in disgust. It was all I could do to keep from punching someone’s lights out when that happened. Didn’t those idiots understand kill or be killed?

  The guys who had served in Nam understood. We survived over there by reacting swiftly to defend ourselves and our buddies from any perceived threat.