She Was at Risk

by P. D. Workman

  “Then it wasn’t that man,” Gordon said finally. “That lab worker at the clinic.”

  “No,” Zachary confirmed. “I guess he got spooked by our investigation and ran, but he wasn’t the one who had the Huntington’s gene.”

  “It was Bridget.” He looked at Mr. and Mrs. Downy. “It was Bridget all along.”

  “We don’t know that,” Mr. Downy pointed out. “Not until further tests are done.” He shot a look at Zachary. “Just because she’s been moody lately, that doesn’t mean she has Huntington’s Disease. That hasn’t been established.”

  “No,” Gordon agreed. He swallowed and looked at Zachary. His eyes said it all. He had seen the changes too. He was more aware than any of them of the emotional changes that Bridget had been going through. And maybe he was aware of other symptoms he had not acknowledged before. The Downys had said that there was no Huntington’s Disease in their family, and he had believed what they had said, because it was what he wanted to hear.

  Like Bridget’s parents, he wanted to believe that there wasn’t anything wrong with Bridget. That she was just emotional. Stressed. Hormonal. That it was because of the cancer treatments.

  The alternative was too heartbreaking.

  “What does that mean to the girls?” Gordon asked bleakly. “If Bridget has symptoms now, what does that mean for them?”

  “They’ve inherited an expanded Huntington’s allele,” Zachary said. “They’ll likely get it around the same age.”

  “But she’ll abort,” Mrs. Downy said. “There won’t be any babies.”

  “Can she do that?” Gordon looked at Zachary. “Is she competent to make a choice like that?”

  Zachary looked into Gordon’s dark brown eyes, feeling like he was drowning in the depths. Could Bridget even make that decision for herself anymore? And if it fell to Gordon to make that decision, what would he decide?

  Gordon put his face in his hands and shook his head.

  They sat for a long time. Consoling each other and trying to help each other through the terrible news. Zachary wasn’t sure what he could do for Gordon to help him keep it together. If Zachary was still Bridget’s husband, he had no idea how he would have handled the news. It would have been impossible. And making the medical decisions for everyone would be overwhelming. Even stoic Gordon was shaken to the core.

  Eventually, Gordon left. He would pick Bridget up. Inform her that they had been invited to dinner at her parents’ house. And when she got there, they would find a way to break the news to her.

  Zachary sat there, watching Gordon’s car drive away. It was time for him to leave. He didn’t want to be there when Gordon and Bridget returned. He wouldn’t be a welcome guest at that conversation.

  He had been fiddling with his notepad in his pocket, and he pulled it out now. He flipped through the pages, looking at all of the questions and scenarios that he had scribbled down when it occurred to him that Bridget herself was the one with Huntington’s Disease. Not just carrying the gene, but showing symptoms. He flipped through the pages slowly.

  “What do you know about Bridget’s biological parents? Do you have any background information? Their medical history? There are laws that will allow an adoptee to find out important medical information…”

  Mr. and Mrs. Downy looked at each other. Mrs. Downy turned back to Zachary. “Her biological parents are dead.”

  “Both of them? How do you know that? She was an orphan when you adopted her?”

  The two of them nodded in unison. Zachary wondered whether it was the truth or just another lie of convenience. It would be easier for them if there were no medical history? They would only have to reveal the absolute minimum—that Bridget had been adopted. They wouldn’t have to share anything else about what kind of people her biological family had been.

  “What happened to them?” Zachary drilled.

  Parents of infants didn’t just conveniently drop dead. There had to be some backstory. They had to know something about how they had died.

  “I don’t see how that is relevant,” Mr. Downy said. “There is no way for us to get their family history. It’s a dead end.”

  “You must have been told something about them. What kind of family she came from, if she was born in the United States or overseas. Even if her parents are dead, there could be extended family members. We might be able to find grandparents or cousins and start building a family tree.”

  “What does that matter?” Mrs. Downy asked, her voice teary. “If she has Huntington’s Disease, what else do you need to know? What does it matter how many people in her biological family might have had it?”

  She had a point there. “What if Bridget wants to know where she came from? She might want to know more about her biological ancestry. Or to meet blood relations while she still can. You’ve kept all of that from her.”

  “She doesn’t need to know anything about them.”

  Zachary knew better. While some adopted children were not interested in knowing where they came from, most of those he had met felt that there was something missing from their lives if they didn’t know anything about their biological family. They felt incomplete without it. They longed to meet someone who was related to them by blood, even if it wasn’t a parent or sibling.

  “She came from somewhere. You’ve denied her heritage.”

  “She won’t want to know.”

  “What if she does?” Zachary was thinking about how he could help Bridget. He knew a genealogist who worked with DNA. She could search public ancestry databases, find her relatives, and then start building them into a family tree. Even without Mr. and Mrs. Downy’s cooperation or Bridget being able to unseal her records, they could find out something about the people she had come from.

  “You can’t search,” Mrs. Downy said, clearly reading Zachary’s expression. “You can’t do that to her.”

  “To her? I would be doing it for her. I would be helping her.”

  “No, you wouldn’t. You can’t… it would be cruel to do that to her.”

  Zachary frowned at this. Researching Bridget’s heritage would be cruel? How did that make any sense? He would be giving her what she needed. A sense of where she had come from. The comfort of biological family supporting her through her decline. Knowing her whole self.

  Mr. Downy shook his head at his wife. “Don’t. Don’t say anything else.”

  She rubbed her eyes. Her makeup was getting wiped away. She looked older and more vulnerable. Like a child and an old woman at the same time.

  “He’s going to look. And you know he can find things. He’ll… he’ll ruin everything.”

  Zachary sat forward in his seat. What was she so worried about? Was the adoption not legal? She couldn’t just be concerned about the revelation that she was infertile. Not anymore. Society had changed since then.

  “You can’t hide the truth forever. I can figure it out. If you have a good reason Bridget shouldn’t know, then tell me. Because otherwise, I’m going to assume that it’s just to cover your own errors.”

  “What gives you the right?” Mr. Downy demanded, color suffusing his face.

  “I want the best for her. Especially… if she has Huntington’s Disease like I think she does. I want her to be happy for what time she has.”

  “She’s perfectly happy without knowing anything about what happened before she came to us,” Mrs. Downy put in. “She’s our daughter now, it’s like nothing ever happened. Sometimes I even forget that I didn’t give birth to her. When Gordon came and started asking about family medical history, I didn’t even remember at first that Bridget doesn’t share our genes. It was just so natural to think of her being a part of us.”

  Zachary shrugged, irritated at their insistence. “Fine. If she asks for my help, you know I will help her. And I can do it. I can find out what family she came from. Help her to meet her extended family. Whatever she wants me to do.”

  They knew that was true even without his saying anything about it. He had always
been devoted to Bridget. He would always do whatever she needed him to.

  The two of them looked at each other. Zachary waited, sure they would break. If Bridget really wanted to find out about her biological family, she would. There was no point in their becoming estranged from her because they wouldn’t give her the answers she wanted.

  Mr. Downy rubbed his forehead slowly. “It was a very tragic story,” he said slowly. “I haven’t had to think about it for years.”

  36

  Zachary went back home to Kenzie. He felt wrung out. Enervated. It had been an emotional day. On the one hand, he was glad that he didn’t have to be there when they told Bridget the truth about her birth. On the other, he was sorry he couldn’t see her. Even just a fleeting moment, passing on the street as he left and she arrived. He’d been watching for Gordon and Bridget as he left, hoping to catch a glimpse of her.

  Some day in the future, she wouldn’t be there anymore. There would be no chance of running into her in town, at the gas station, or her favorite restaurant. No flash of her yellow bug in traffic. No outrage if he pocket-dialed Gordon. She would be gone from his life forever. Something that he had never believed. She had always come back, asking him a favor, checking in to make sure he was still alive, telling Kenzie that she was making a mistake.

  “Hey.” Kenzie greeted him with a kiss and searched his face, looking concerned. “How are you? What’s going on?”

  He shook his head. “It’s been quite a day.”

  “Come on in,” she ushered him into the living room. He noticed that she did not have anything cooking. Either she had just gotten home, or she’d had something light to eat without him. He sat down and she sat sideways on the couch so her legs were across his lap and she could see his face as they talked.

  “So what’s been going on?” she asked. “Is it your case, or did something happen at the Petersons?”

  “Things went pretty well for dinner with Pat’s family. They went home last night; I didn’t see them today. But I sort of… missed the latter part of the meal.”

  She raised an eyebrow.

  “I suddenly… had an insight into the case. I had to focus and follow up on it. So I kind of ducked out for the end of dinner.”

  Kenzie rolled her eyes, grinning. She’d had to deal with him getting distracted like that enough times. At least she knew it wasn’t just her. He did it to other people too. “I’m sure Pat and Lorne understood.”

  Zachary nodded. “Yeah, Lorne said that it was okay… Pat understood. I didn’t plan to do that to his family, though. I’m sure they thought I was being really rude.”

  “Well, they might as well get to know the real Zachary right from the start. No false assumptions.”

  “I suppose. Pat seemed to be okay the next day… I just wonder if he was covering up how upset he was.”

  “Like Dr. B says, if you don’t tell someone what you’re thinking, don’t expect them to read your mind.”

  “Yeah. I don’t like to disappoint Pat. He’s been through enough lately.”

  “None of that is your fault either. But that was yesterday. What happened today? It was your investigation, then?”

  “Yeah. I had this idea that I needed to follow up on today.”

  “And how did that turn out?”

  “Well… some testing will need to be done, but I think I was right.”

  “You got your culprit? The fertility clinic employee who contaminated the samples?”

  “It turns out… the Huntington’s came from the mother.”

  “I thought she was tested.”

  “No, she didn’t want to be tested. We just had her negative family history. There weren’t any cases of Huntington’s or possible Huntington’s in her family.”

  “So you think she has the intermediate allele? But how could you know that?”

  “No. I think she has Huntington’s.” Zachary closed his eyes and for a few minutes, just let his mind swim in the darkness behind his lids, trying to come to terms with what he had discovered. The whole process that he had started in motion.

  Kenzie bent closer to him and rubbed his shoulder and back. “That’s sad. I’m sorry. One of her parents, then, was intermediate. And they passed the expanded gene to her.”

  “She was adopted.”

  “Oooh…” Kenzie thought about that. “Wow, okay. She was adopted, so the family history was wrong. Did she not understand that she could have inherited it from her bio family? I know people have disconnects, sometimes, but…”

  Zachary pressed his palms to his eyes.

  “You need something for your head.”

  “No. Nothing tonight.”

  She didn’t press. Zachary needed to be in control of his own medications. She had learned that he was better at anticipating what he might need and avoiding interactions than she was, so she needed to leave that to him.

  “Do you want to put something on the TV? Chill out for a while?”

  He should probably do as she suggested, just put the case out of his mind and relax with her for the rest of the evening. But he couldn’t. It was just too upsetting.

  “Kenzie… it’s Bridget.” He pulled his hands away from his eyes and blinked at her.

  Kenzie frowned, studying him. “What’s Bridget?”

  “It was Gordon who came to me. It was her twins that tested positive for Huntington’s Disease.”

  Kenzie’s eyes widened. “Bridget’s twins?” She started to connect the dots. Her jaw dropped open. “Bridget was adopted? You think she has Huntington’s Disease?”

  Zachary nodded. His chest hurt, like a heavy weight was being pressed down on it. As much as he had wished to be able to get over Bridget and to put his relationship with her behind him, he had never imagined that it would be this way.

  He wanted her to be happy. He wanted himself and Kenzie to be happy. He didn’t care so much about Gordon. But he had still wanted Bridget to be happy and the thought that she might have Huntington’s Disease was a crushing blow.

  Kenzie’s face was a mosaic of emotions. Shock, anger, sympathy, all fighting for a place.

  “Oh, my…” Kenzie trailed off and blew out a puff of air, thinking about it. “Do you really think so?” Her mind was going rapidly through what she knew of Bridget, both what she had experienced and Zachary’s history with her. “You think that all of her drama, her anger, that’s because of Huntington’s?” She pressed her feet against his leg, digging in her toes, wiggling them. “Oh, Zachary.”

  “What do you think? Am I way off base? I mean… all along, you’ve been saying that she’s the one who is unbalanced, that it wasn’t a rational response to my… mistakes. Do you think that she could be… having episodes because of Huntington’s Disease?”

  “Yeah. She’ll have to get in to be tested to confirm it.”

  Zachary nodded. “Gordon was going to… talk her into getting tested. He knows someone. He wouldn’t have to wait; they could get it done right away. I guess they need to do more than just do a DNA test to see if she has this expanded gene. There are other things they need to do to confirm that… she has active Huntington’s Disease.”

  “Yeah. I don’t know all of the ins and outs, but of course just having the gene doesn’t mean you have the disease yet. But with her behavior… if you’re right and all along she’s been getting worse because of Huntington’s Disease…” Kenzie shook her head. “You know the prognosis is not good. You know how the disease progresses.”

  “Yeah. I know. Like having dementia and Parkinson’s and Lou Gehrig’s all at once. And eventually… she won’t be able to communicate. Won’t be able to swallow. Or to get around.”

  Kenzie nodded grimly. “I wouldn’t wish it on my worst enemy.”

  “Even Bridget?”

  “How can you think that? Of course not. I wouldn’t wish it on her or anyone else. Ever.”

  Zachary massaged his head again, hoping to be able to relieve the headache.

  “Have you had anything to
eat?” Kenzie asked.

  “No. I don’t think so.”

  “Low blood sugar isn’t going to help the situation. What do you want?”

  “I’ll just heat something up. You don’t need to make anything special.”

  “I’m not offering to make anything special. I’ll warm you up some leftovers or pull something out of the freezer. Or a sandwich, if you want.”

  “You’re tired too. I can make it.”

  Kenzie got to her feet. “You’re so stubborn sometimes. I’m getting you something to eat. You can speak up now and say what you want, or I’ll surprise you.”

  Zachary thought he should get up and help her, or at least move to the kitchen table where it was easier to talk to her while they waited for the microwave and while Zachary ate. But he didn’t have the energy to move from where he sat.

  He didn’t offer any suggestions. Kenzie opened the fridge and checked the contents of the various bowls of leftovers before selecting one. She put it in the microwave and started it warming.

  Zachary closed his eyes and was surprised when she sat down next to him again. He hadn’t felt the passage of time. He opened his eyes and looked at Kenzie. She handed him a bowl of leftover frozen lasagna.

  “Thanks.” Zachary put it onto his portable desk so that he wouldn’t spill, and took a couple of bites. He loved lasagna, but he could barely taste it.

  “Why would Gordon involve you?” Kenzie asked, her voice betraying anger. “Of all of the private investigators… why did he have to pick you? He knew you would be too close to the issue. That was really rotten of him.”

  Zachary was surprised by the strength of her words. Was it really that bad? “He knew that I already knew Bridget’s schedule, that I would see if there was anything out of the ordinary. Remember that at the beginning, we were looking for evidence that she’d had an affair, thinking maybe the twins had been conceived naturally.”

  “That was always a long shot. He had to know that it was more likely to be tampering at the clinic.”