One Season of Sunshine

by Julia London

  From the things he told her, Jane had a picture of Asher as a man who tried to do the right thing but who was torn between a career and his kids, torn between Susanna’s memory and the need to move on. She’d sensed he was a loner from the beginning, but for the first time, she began to see how lonely he had been in his life. She understood it all too well.

  Her feelings for Asher were growing. She didn’t know if it was love, but it was something very powerful. He was the only thing she was entirely certain of, and oh, how he moved her. She discovered in him a tender heart in a strong and capable man. A sexy, handsome man. And he made her laugh! This man, whom she had thought was the devil incarnate, made her laugh; deep, belly, tear-producing laughs.

  Time flew. The days grew hotter and longer. The Fourth of July fell on a Sunday, and Asher and Jane started that day with a run. Later, Asher was taking the kids to Helen and Bill’s for fireworks and a barbeque. He’d invited Jane along. When Asher had mentioned it to the kids the previous day, Riley had said, a bit incredulously, “She’s going to Grandma Helen’s?”

  “Yes,” Asher said. “It will be fun.”

  When Asher and Jane returned from their run, they walked into the kitchen for water. Riley was sitting at the kitchen island, eating cereal.

  “I was thinking we could all go to brunch,” Asher said as he filled two glasses of water from the fridge. “Jane, are you up for that?”

  “Sure!”

  Riley’s spoon clanked against her bowl. She looked at Asher. “She’s going to brunch with us, too? I thought she had weekends off. Why is she hanging out with us?”

  “Riley!” Asher said sternly. “Don’t be rude. What’s the matter with you? It’s a holiday—do you expect Jane to sit in the guesthouse alone?”

  “Why didn’t she go to Houston? I thought people went home for holidays,” Riley said, looking at Jane.

  “That’s a long drive for a day,” Jane said. Her cell phone rang; she picked it up off the kitchen desk. “And besides, I don’t want to miss the fireworks.”

  “I don’t understand your attitude,” Asher said to Riley as Jane answered her phone.

  “Ah . . . hello. I am trying to reach Jane Aaron, please?”

  “Speaking.”

  “Dad, are you kidding me?” Riley said loudly at the same time the woman on the other end of the line spoke. “What about your attitude?”

  “I’m sorry,” Jane said and stepped outside. “Could you repeat that?”

  “I said, I’m sorry I didn’t get back to you sooner, but I went to Indiana to see my sister, and I don’t get up there as much as I’d like, so we decided to make a little vacation of it and took a few weeks off.”

  “I’m not sure who I’m speaking to,” Jane said, confused.

  “Debbie Carpenter,” the woman replied politely.

  31

  Jane’s heart began to pound. “Hello, Mrs. Carpenter! Thank you so much for calling me back.”

  “I hope I didn’t call at a bad time.”

  “No, no, not at all,” Jane assured her. “I’ll try not to take too much of your time. The reason I am calling is because Dr. White gave me your name. I was looking for nurses at Cedar Springs Memorial in nineteen eighty, nurses who might have worked in the maternity ward.”

  Debbie Carpenter chuckled. “I was a nurse in that maternity ward for thirty-five years. Did Dr. White tell you that? He is such a good doctor, especially with the babies.”

  “Yes, he told me. He was trying to help me and gave me your name as someone to talk to.”

  “Well, that’s all you needed to say. What can I do for you, Jane?” Debbie asked cheerfully.

  Jane took another deep breath and expelled it along with, “I am trying to find my birth mother. The only thing I know is that I was born in Cedar Springs on April twenty-fifth, nineteen eighty. The hospital won’t give me any records, and the Cedar Springs Standard only had some vague mention that three girls and one boy were born in that week. That’s all I have. So I thought that perhaps someone might remember something—”

  “Oh my goodness, Jane, that was a long time ago,” Debbie said. “Excuse me—I’ll be right there!” she called out to someone. “What was I going to say? Oh yes. I worked at Memorial all those years and retired three years ago. I can’t possibly remember all the babies that came through there.”

  “Yes, right, I know it’s a stretch,” Jane said a little desperately. “But I thought maybe the fact that it was an adoption might jog your memory. It was a private adoption, and I think only a lawyer was involved.”

  “Hmm,” she said thoughtfully. Jane heard a male voice in the background. “Honey, I said I’d be right there,” Debbie said. “Don’t they have an adoption registry or something?” she asked Jane, sounding reluctant. “Isn’t that a better way to go about it?”

  “I’ve tried that, but both parties have to sign up. And the lawyer passed away a few years ago. The court records are sealed. I am running out of options.”

  “Well, you know, sometimes there’s a good reason for that.”

  Jane bit her tongue to keep from telling Debbie there could be no good reason that she shouldn’t be allowed to know who’d brought her into this world. What possible good reason could there be that most humans knew their parentage, and she knew nothing?

  “Oh, Lord, my husband is about to drive me batty. We’re going to a family picnic today. Are you free to come out to the house late this afternoon? We ought to be back around four or so. I’ve got some things I can look at to see if it will jog my memory.”

  “Yes!” Jane said. “Yes, thank you, Mrs. Carpenter. Are you sure? I know this is asking a lot—”

  “You sound like a nice girl, Jane. Come on out and we’ll see if we can’t dredge up something. But I can’t promise you anything. I want to be really clear—the chances of me remembering anything to help you are probably pretty slim. But I’m willing to try for Dr. White’s sake.”

  Jane closed her eyes. “I know it’s a long shot, Mrs. Carpenter. I know that you probably cannot help me. But I have to try, and I can’t tell you how much I appreciate your effort.”

  “Well then, come on out,” Mrs. Carpenter said. “Do you know where Highway two eighty-one intersects with two ninety?”

  “Yes,” Jane said and listened attentively to the directions.

  After they’d agreed on a time, Jane walked back into the kitchen. Her head and heart were spinning with hope and anxiety at once. Debbie Carpenter seemed pretty sure she wouldn’t remember anything . . . but what if she did?

  “I just don’t see why she has to do everything with us,” Riley was saying as Jane walked in.

  “Why is it suddenly a big deal?” Asher asked irritably. “I thought you liked Jane.” To Jane, he said, “Sorry, Jane.”

  “Daddy, can we go water my garden?” Levi asked.

  “In a moment.”

  “I like her as a nanny, but not glued to our side,” Riley said.

  “I am hardly glued to your side,” Jane said calmly.

  “You didn’t seem to have any problem with her being around last night when you needed her for Scrabble, did you?” Asher reminded Riley.

  “Why do you want her around?” Riley shot back. “What’s the matter, did Tara get tired of you?”

  “Tara?” he said, looking confused a moment. “Oh, my—Riley, did you think I was seeing Tara? No, honey. Tara is my assistant. That’s all.”

  Riley colored—she clearly had believed that. “I don’t care what she is,” she said flippantly. “I just don’t want her hanging around. Or Jane. She’s supposed to be here when you’re at work, not all the other times.”

  “She can be around whenever she likes,” Asher said tightly. “We’re not running a prison camp here, so let’s get a few things straight. I am allowed to have friendships besides you and Levi. That means with Tara, or Jane, or anyone else. I don’t see any reason that Jane can’t participate in the things our family does. Why would we exclude her?”
>
  “Maybe because she’s not our family?” Riley asked sarcastically.

  “Watch your tone, young lady,” Asher said sternly.

  “I don’t want to go to brunch,” Riley said and abruptly stood and flounced from the kitchen.

  “Come back here and clean up your mess!” Asher called after her, but it was pointless—she was already halfway to her room. He looked at Jane.

  Jane shrugged a little. It didn’t surprise her, really—Riley had a very strong sense of how the world should be ordered.

  “So much for brunch,” Asher muttered.

  “Daddy, can we go water the garden now?” Levi asked.

  “Yeah, come on, kid,” he said. He looked at Jane. “Everything okay?” he asked.

  “Yes. Really good. That was Debbie Carpenter, the nurse.”

  Asher’s eyes widened. “No kidding?”

  “Daddy, come on,” Levi said, already at the door.

  “No kidding,” Jane said. “She wants me to come and meet her this afternoon. I have to go—I’m sorry, but I’ll miss today’s fun. Can I take a rain check?”

  “Yes, of course,” Asher said as Levi grabbed his hand and pulled. “And given the scene we just had, it’s probably not a bad idea for your sake.”

  “That will blow over,” Jane said confidently, gesturing toward the stairs, but she noticed that Asher didn’t look so sure of it.

  Levi opened the door. Jane smiled down at him. “Asher, you’d better go before Levi tugs your arm off. I’ll see you guys later, okay?”

  “Good luck,” Asher said as Levi dragged him out. “I’ll keep my fingers crossed for you.”

  Debbie Carpenter lived at the end of a narrow two-lane road, bordered on both sides by Hill Country vineyards. Her house was a split-level, with a wide bottom floor and a square addition up top. Dr. White had been right about her hobby—her yard was planted with azaleas and hollies, black-eyed Susans, columbines, lantanas, and sage.

  Debbie looked much like her house, with wide hips and a sturdy torso on top of them, and a short crop of graying curls. She’d said she’d retired from nursing three years ago, but when Jane drove up, Debbie walked out to greet her wearing a scrub top that had little stick figure children all over it.

  “You must be Jane!” she said cheerfully as Jane climbed out of her car.

  “Thank you so much for taking the time,” Jane said, shaking her hand.

  “Oh, think nothing of it! It’s nice to get a little company out this way. Come on around to the back. I thought we’d have coffee on the patio.”

  Debbie’s patio was a redbrick semicircle attached to the house, shaded by a pergola. The backyard, like the front, was planted with something on every square inch, including a vegetable garden. The view beyond her yard was a pasture where cows were grazing.

  “Those belong to my husband, Yank. He has about fifteen cows that he tinkers with so he can call himself a rancher. But he wouldn’t sell a one of ’em.” Her laugh was warm and deep.

  The coffee service was set up on a tempered glass patio table. The chairs were covered in a loud, floral-print vinyl. There was a plate of home-baked cookies, too, which Jane found terribly endearing. Personally, she’d never understood the appeal of drinking coffee outside when it was hot and humid, but they were fortunate this afternoon—there was a bit of a breeze in the shade to keep them from melting.

  “Do you have children?” Jane asked as Debbie handed her a cup.

  “Oh my, too many. I have six,” she said proudly. “All grown, all doing their thing.” She pointed to a prefab shed that sat in the corner of the yard. “See that? Full of riding toys. I’ve got three grandchildren and two more on the way.” She beamed at Jane.

  “Congratulations,” Jane said. “This seems like the perfect grandma house.”

  “We try,” Debbie said. “And Lord knows they come around often enough. Tell me about yourself, Jane. Are you happy with your adoptive family?”

  “Yes, very happy.” Jane gave her the quick description of her family. Debbie laughed when Jane explained to her she was hopeless in a pool of natural-born chefs.

  “Well, it’s good to hear that you were taken in by such a loving family,” Debbie said. “God was looking out for you.”

  “I think so,” Jane agreed. “I’ve had a great life, but I would like to know where I come from. Unfortunately, the only thing I have to go on is that I was born here on April twenty-fifth, nineteen eighty.”

  Debbie squinted out at the pasture. She shook her head. “That’s not much to go on, is it?”

  Jane’s spirits began to flag. She’d guessed this would lead nowhere, just like all her ideas. It almost seemed as if the universe was conspiring against her.

  “But I’ve thought about it,” Debbie added. “I don’t know if what I am going to tell you has anything to do with you or not, but I thought I’d tell you anyway. I mean, you’ve come all this way. I’d sure like to help you if I could.”

  “Oh . . . thank you,” Jane said, sitting up a little straighter. “What things?”

  “Well, for years there was another nurse who worked maternity with me. Gwen Wright was her name. Anyway, I remember when I went out on maternity leave with my youngest, I had lunch with Gwen one day so she could see the baby. I remember her telling me she had a family friend who had gotten into trouble and was going to give her baby up for adoption. But the family wanted to keep it all very hush-hush. I don’t know if she told me they were very wealthy or I just assumed it, but that’s what I think. This wealthy family wanted to keep this girl’s baby a big secret.”

  Jane’s pulse began to quicken.

  “Anyway, they’d arranged for a private adoption and I think Gwen told me that it was a lawyer who took care of it all. Didn’t you say it was a lawyer who handled your adoption? I am almost certain Gwen told me some slick lawyer came over from Austin and handled it all.”

  Now Jane’s breath was shortening and her palms were damp. She was going to have an anxiety attack. “Did she say any more than that?” she asked quickly. “Did she say the baby’s name?”

  “Not that I recall. But I remember clear as a bell that Gwen was sitting there holding my little Bruce, and she was very upset that the poor mother only had about an hour with the baby before it was taken away.”

  Jane’s heart stopped beating altogether. “That’s it? An hour?”

  “Now Jane,” Debbie said, reaching across the table and patting Jane’s arm, “I don’t know if that was you. I only thought of it because I had Bruce at the end of March, and I think it was about a month or so before I saw Gwen. It could have been any baby born in that hospital, and I may even have my timing off. But I thought it was worth mentioning to you.”

  “And the family?” Jane asked, rubbing her palms on her shorts. “Were they from around here?”

  “Well that I don’t know. Gwen was Cedar Springs born and raised, and I think she said the girl was a family friend.”

  “That means she could possibly be here,” Jane said, her mind rushing ahead. “I mean, even if she’s not, there’s bound to be someone who might know. Is Gwen here? Do you think I could call her?”

  “Oh, Jane,” Debbie said, her face falling. “I should have said that right up front. Gwen lost her battle with breast cancer about a year ago.”

  Jane didn’t even realize she’d spilled her coffee until Debbie jumped up and said, “Don’t you worry about that. I’ll get something to wipe it up.”

  She hoped Debbie would bring a very big rag with her, because Jane would need it to wipe up all the disappointment she felt pouring out of her. She was one year too late. One lousy year.

  32

  It was after eleven when Asher and the kids arrived home. He put Levi to bed straightaway, turned off the light, and stepped into the hallway.

  The door to Riley’s room was closed, but Asher could see light under her door.

  He retreated to his room, walked out onto the balcony, and looked down at the guesthouse. Lig
hts were still on. He could call Jane and ask if he could come down, but he decided to surprise her. He needed to see her in the flesh to satisfy his sense of unease.

  Jane opened promptly when he knocked and grinned when she saw him. “Hey, you.”

  “Hey, yourself,” he said and reached for her as he stepped inside, pulling her to him to kiss her.

  “Where are the kids?”

  “In bed.”

  “How were the fireworks?” she asked, brushing her fingers over the shadow of his beard.

  “Boring.” He smiled and kissed her again. “How was your meeting? Did you learn anything?”

  “She had a great story to tell me,” Jane said. “Not the story I wanted to hear, but a story.” She recounted her visit with Debbie as she retrieved a couple of beers from her fridge. She handed one to him. “But when she had finished telling me about this friend of a friend, she said, ‘Oh, sorry, Jane, I should have told you earlier. Gwen died of breast cancer about a year ago.’”

  “No way,” Asher said, stunned.

  “That’s what I said. But it’s true.” Jane gave him a tremulous smile. She opened her mouth as if she meant to say something, but then suddenly sank down to her haunches.

  “Jane!” Asher exclaimed. She had her arms around her legs, her face in her knees. “Jane.” He squatted next to her, embracing her, helping her stand.

  “I can’t believe it,” she said tearfully. “Every clue I find is a dead end.” She laid her head against his chest and let Asher hold her. “I don’t understand why I don’t get to know where I come from.”

  He certainly couldn’t answer that.

  She sniffed and leaned back, rubbed her hand under her nose. “I’m sorry. But it’s been a very frustrating journey for me.” With a weary sigh, she slipped out of his embrace, picked up her beer, and took a seat on the couch. Asher joined her. “I don’t know what else to do,” she said. “I’m at the end of my rope, and I am so disappointed. I have needed this for so long now.”