by Brenda Novak
Even if that didn’t happen, she knew Reagan and Serenity would stand behind her in good times and bad in a way that poor Osha and Mercedes weren’t capable of doing, and she’d be lifelong friends with Finn, Nolan and even Davis, who was beginning to impress them all with what he could accomplish using only one hand.
All six of them were talking about coming back next summer—and Sawyer had agreed that he’d be there on weekends. Lorelei had no idea how she’d get the time off, since she had to find a job as soon as she returned to Orlando and would presumably be working, or what she’d have to concede to Mark, but this summer had been so precious—valuable in a way few things were. She wasn’t going to miss the chance to spend another three months with these people and to get to know Reagan’s baby.
She’d found her family—although, as the days passed she couldn’t stop wondering if she’d been adopted when she was born. If she was tied to Serenity’s uncle Vance, and he was connected to an adoption agency, there was certainly the possibility. And if that was the case, maybe it was her adopted mother who’d lost or abandoned her and her birth mother was still out there.
Would it be possible to find her? Would she be interested in meeting?
And if an adoption had occurred, where was the woman who’d taken her in? Where had she gone? What happened when Lorelei was two?
As grateful as Lorelei was to have found her sisters, her new best friends, those questions nagged at her. She’d drifted about like a tumbleweed, blown this way and that, her whole life—until Mark, and then he’d sent her tumbling again with a mighty shove. She craved roots, or at least knowledge, so she could fill in the blanks. And while Serenity couldn’t bother her family during the preparations for her brother’s wedding, which was at the end of September, there was no reason Lorelei couldn’t visit My Sweet Angel Adoption Agency herself—while she still had time in California—to see if she couldn’t find a thread of truth that would unravel the whole mystery.
“Serenity tried calling them. They can’t give out any information, remember?” Reagan barely looked up from her computer when Lorelei presented the idea to her early on a Friday morning. Lucy had gotten up as soon as the sun started to rise and dragged them out of bed. She was watching cartoons in the living room and Serenity was out kayaking with Davis. The two of them still did that most mornings.
“I remember, but I’m not planning to ask them for the name of my birth mother. I know they won’t give me that. I’m planning to ask them for the name of my adoptive mother.”
Reagan, who’d been shopping for baby clothes and furniture—something she’d begun to do openly when she wasn’t talking on the phone or texting with Rally—closed her computer. “Of course! Why wouldn’t they give you that? Your adoptive mother shouldn’t be a secret.”
“Exactly.”
“Except...I’m guessing they won’t even be able to admit that you were adopted through their agency.”
Maybe she hadn’t been adopted at all. They were guessing at all this, trying to piece it together.
Still, it made sense as a possibility and was worth a shot. “Technically, they probably shouldn’t. But it’s a business run by people, right? Surely they’ll see that my situation is unique—and have some empathy, for God’s sake. And if we can confirm they handled my adoption, chances are really high they handled yours and Serenity’s, too.”
“True. But even if they do have some empathy, they might not be willing to break the rules. They might be too afraid of getting in trouble—losing their license or whatever.”
“This isn’t a recent adoption we’re talking about. It’s been so long—for all of us. I can’t imagine they’d have to guard the information so fiercely after that much time. Anyway, it’s worth a try. We only have three weeks left of summer. If I’m going to pursue this, I need to get on it, and I happen to have the day off. I’m going down there. Any chance you’d like to go with me? I bet Serenity would let us take her Beamer.”
“What about Lucy? We can’t leave her with Serenity—she’s got to meet her writing quota for the day.”
“I’m thinking of asking Davis. I really don’t think he’d mind. They’ve become so close lately.” Davis played with Lucy whenever they were together.
“Okay. Serenity can take over when she’s done. But Sawyer will be coming up tonight. It’s Friday.”
“We should be back by then. Even if we’re not, I doubt it would bother him to have Lucy with them for a short while.”
They both looked up as Serenity walked in from outside wearing her cutoff wetsuit. “What are you two doing up so early?”
“Lucy woke us at the crack of dawn,” Reagan said.
A sheepish expression descended on Serenity’s face. “Sorry. Maybe I was too loud when I went out.”
“It doesn’t matter. It’s good that we’re getting an early start,” Lorelei said and told her about their plans.
“Do you think it’s worth the drive?” Reagan asked Serenity when Lorelei was finished.
“I do,” Serenity replied. “If you don’t try, you’ll always wonder. I’m happy to take over for Davis and watch Lucy after lunch, and you can take the X5.”
“I’ll wait in the car while she goes in,” Reagan said. “It’ll be less threatening and more sympathetic if she’s alone. I’m just going to keep her company.”
“Fingers crossed,” Serenity said. Then Reagan smiled conspiratorially and Lorelei couldn’t help laughing.
“Let’s do this.” She got to her feet, but before she could head up to shower and dress, Serenity caught her by the wrist.
“Even if you never find the answers you’re searching for, you’ll always have us,” she said.
34
reagan
It was a total bust, REAGAN WROTE TO Rally as she rode with Lorelei back up a winding Interstate 80 to the turnoff for Incline Village.
What happened?
Nothing. Lorelei went in, but they claimed they didn’t have records going that far back, that they couldn’t help her. She tried to plead her case, but they just gave her a list of resources for adopted children who are seeking their birth parents.
You don’t believe them?
No. I think they get hit up a lot, and they have a standard response, which they give to protect their business.
Is she upset?
Disappointed. So am I.
What’s next?
We wait for the DNA results, and if they don’t tell us anything, Serenity talks to her mother after the wedding. I might try to approach mine again, too, once I’m home. I can tell her I’ve been doing some research and hit her with Vance’s name and the name of the adoption agency. Maybe she’ll break down and tell me the truth if she thinks I’m going to find it on my own, anyway.
The way you’ve described your mother? I wouldn’t bet you could break her down that easily.
She chuckled, and Lorelei, who was behind the wheel, glanced over at her. “What’s Rally saying?”
“He feels bad that we couldn’t get what we were hoping for, but he doesn’t think my mother will ever provide any solid information.”
“Do you?” she asked.
“I’m not optimistic about it, but I’m willing to give it a try. If the DNA doesn’t turn up anything, and Serenity and I can’t get anywhere, maybe we should consider hiring a private investigator.”
She frowned. “I can’t afford that. Mark is already giving me fits, and I can’t even begin to guess what kind of job I’ll be able to find when I return to Florida.”
With her own job situation up in the air, Reagan realized it probably wasn’t wise for her to pay an investigator, either. She needed her money to last a year, until the baby was a few months old. She couldn’t really attack the job market before then. “It’s an option, anyway. For the future. I mean...who knows? You’ve been talking about creating your own
cookbook. Maybe you’ll do that, and you’ll make millions.”
“You never know,” she said, but Reagan could tell she wasn’t too optimistic.
“How are you feeling toward Mark these days?”
She took a moment before responding. “I try to remember that he has his good points.”
“But you’re not getting along with him or Francine?”
“Not right now. She’s turned on me, too.”
“Let them have each other. I doubt it’ll last, even if they get married.”
“I suspect they’re already living together.”
“Because Mark’s a cheap bastard,” Reagan said. “He probably wanted her to help make the mortgage payment.”
“I wouldn’t put it past him,” Lorelei said. Then they talked about Rally and how much Reagan was coming to like him.
“It’s going to feel weird when I finally see him again,” she said.
“Why?”
“I’ve only ever seen him once.”
“But you’ve come to know each other so well.”
“I like that we started our relationship this way. We really have gotten to know each other.” She put a piece of gum in her mouth. “But I’ll be showing a month or two after I get home. You don’t think it’ll be weird to be dating while I’m pregnant?”
“If Rally doesn’t mind, why would you?”
“I guess you’re right.”
Lorelei turned down the air-conditioning. “You’re getting excited about the baby. I can tell.”
A smile tugged at Reagan’s lips. “Yeah. I can’t imagine what it’ll be like to have a baby come into my life, to care for someone so fragile and beautiful, someone who’ll be completely dependent on me. It scares me and feels kind of cool at the same time.”
“Wait until you’ve gained forty pounds and your feet start to swell,” Lorelei said.
“Gee, thanks—buzzkill.”
They laughed and the conversation moved on to the Hatch brothers, how lucky they were to have met them and then how perfect Sawyer was for Serenity. She never even mentioned Sean anymore.
“Thanks for going with me today,” Lorelei said as they pulled into the garage.
They were both in a good mood, despite having wasted their entire day. “No problem. It was fun.”
Because they’d been held up by traffic and returned much later than they’d planned, Serenity had texted Lorelei to let her know she was going out to dinner with Sawyer and had taken Lucy back to Finn’s.
Since Lorelei went to get Lucy, Reagan was alone when she went inside. Sawyer’s truck was parked out front, so she knew he and Serenity hadn’t left yet. She expected to see them, but she wasn’t expecting to interrupt such a highly charged conversation.
“I don’t think we should open it,” Serenity was saying. “Why let him upset us?”
Reagan put down her purse and glanced between them. “What’s going on?”
They looked over, and Sawyer lifted an envelope he held in one hand. “I went out to get the mail, and this was there.”
“It’s from Sean,” Serenity said.
Reagan could see there wasn’t a return address on it. “How do you know?”
“She thinks it must be Sean, because he’s been writing me,” Sawyer said. “But if it was, there’d be a stamp to indicate it came from a correctional institution.”
“It could be from Thomas or Felix—or even Sean’s mother,” Serenity said. “It doesn’t have to be from Sean in order to upset us.”
“It’s addressed to you,” Sawyer said. “So I won’t read it if you don’t want me to. But I wish you’d let me. If this is another one of his threats, I plan to take care of it.”
“I can’t stand the idea of pitting you against your family again,” she said. “They’re being such assholes. Why allow them to ruin our weekend?”
When he hesitated in spite of what she’d said, she walked over and kissed him. “Please?” she said softly. “I’ve been looking forward to having you here all week. Don’t give them any power.”
“Okay,” he said, but with obvious reluctance.
Serenity took the letter and tossed it in the garbage can, but as soon as they left, Reagan couldn’t resist fishing it out. She was thinking it had better not be from anyone in Sean’s family, and they’d better not be threatening Serenity or Sawyer. She was going to insist on getting the police involved, if they had.
When she opened the envelope and pulled out the letter, she was assuming she’d feel angry and defensive. Then she’d get rid of it so that Serenity wouldn’t have to see it, since she didn’t want to know what it said.
But what she read wasn’t anything like she’d expected. “Holy shit,” she murmured as soon as she realized what it was and what it meant.
Her hand was shaking so badly she almost dropped her phone when she called Serenity. “Can you come back?”
“What’s wrong?” Obviously Serenity had heard the breathless quality in Reagan’s voice; Reagan’s heart was racing so fast she could barely speak.
“You have to see this,” she said. “You and Lorelei both.”
* * *
serenity
Serenity could feel Sawyer beside her as she stared down at the photocopy of an old newspaper clipping Reagan had handed her. “What’s this?”
“It’s what was in that envelope.”
“You opened the letter from Sean?”
“I have no clue who sent it, but I’m guessing it wasn’t Sean.”
Lorelei had arrived. Serenity could hear her urging Lucy to hurry up the stairs. “But this is old news. It’s from—” she checked the date on the article; she had that even though she could see only a few letters of the newspaper’s name “—thirty years ago. Why would—”
The headline sank in, and she fell silent. “Priest Gets Forty Years for Sex Crimes.”
“What’s going on?” Lorelei asked as she came into the room. “What’s the emergency?”
Serenity’s tongue felt like sandpaper against the roof of her mouth. “Someone sent me a copy of this newspaper article. It’s about a priest—a Father Greenstone—convicted of having sexual relationships with the young women in his parish. In one instance the girl was only fifteen, another two were seventeen and one was eighteen. There’s a quote in here from one of the victims, although the reporter doesn’t give her name. She said she loved him, expected him to leave the priesthood and marry her.”
Lorelei looked confused. “He abused his position, took advantage of these young girls while he was pretending to be a man of God. How tragic. But what does that have to do with us?”
“Possibly everything.”
“What?” Lorelei said.
Serenity held up her hand as she read the article. “He was in the Bay Area, but when the church started receiving complaints about him, they sent him to Cincinnati.”
“Oh, my God!” Lorelei cried.
Serenity looked from Lorelei to Reagan. “This son of a bitch priest must be our father—or someone thinks he is.”
They gaped at each other for several seconds, too shocked to speak.
“When you’re done, let me see it,” Sawyer murmured and Serenity handed him the paper with the article as she sank into a chair at the kitchen table. Her legs had gone rubbery; she was afraid she’d fall.
“It doesn’t say anything about Florida,” he pointed out as though that might leave some hope.
Serenity struggled to gather her splintered thoughts. “That doesn’t mean anything. We don’t know that Lorelei was conceived in Florida, or even born in Florida—only that she was found there.”
Sawyer still seemed skeptical. “But your uncle handled the adoptions for an agency here in California.”
“So?”
“So how could Reagan be adopted in Cincinnati?”
At first Serenity thought he had a point. She assumed what she was piecing together couldn’t be the truth. But when she considered how desperate the church would’ve been to bury the scandal, she changed her mind. “If I was the church, I’d work with only one agency. The fewer people who know, the better.”
“That’s true,” Sawyer agreed. “I guess he could’ve called an agency in Cincinnati and worked with them to place Reagan. He could easily have done the same with Lorelei.”
“So this...priest, Father Greenstone, who had sex with those young girls in his parish—you think he got some of them pregnant?” Lorelei said. “That you, Reagan and I are the result of those pregnancies?”
Serenity was so busy examining the puzzle from all angles, trying to determine if the picture coming together in her mind was actually possible, it took her a moment to respond. “That’s what this indicates to me.”
Sawyer spoke up again. “The timing is right. This says he was convicted thirty years ago, which means he was free the years before that to prey on the young women he came into contact with. And instead of calling the authorities, the church moved him. That’s what they did back then, to avoid the publicity.”
“But Lorelei’s two years younger than we are,” Reagan said. “Moving him didn’t help. He must’ve done the same thing at least once more.”
“And the church probably paid off the mothers and got rid of the babies,” Sawyer said. “Vance must’ve known who his client was, and he told your mother.”
Reagan’s forehead creased. “That’s what I don’t get. Why would he tell her?”
“She could’ve demanded more information,” Sawyer replied. “Or he thought he could confide in her. It would be pretty scandalous news, and let’s face it—scandalous news is always the hardest to keep a lid on. Once he opened his mouth, maybe he regretted it. Hence the letter.”
