A single tear plopped onto the birth certificate, and Suzanna grabbed a tissue to blot it away. As she did so, the first F in Duff smudged; it was just the tiniest bit, barely noticeable, but enough to brighten her hopes. Searching through the desk, she found two blue ink ballpoint pens and one black one, similar to the one Dr. Melrose had used when he wrote Annie’s name on the birth certificate.
The clock ticked off one hour, then two, then three as she sat there trying to replicate his handwriting, heavy in some areas, lighter in others, letters not fully formed and sliding into one another. She practiced writing Annie Duff over and over again, until she at last had it perfect, then she added a tail onto the back of the D making it appear to be a P. Holding the paper out and scrutinizing it, she felt reasonably satisfied. Moving on, she closed the top of the u and made it look more like a small a, then she moistened the tip of her finger and ever so gently smudged the bottom half of the first f so that it was less readable. After adding a leg to the second f to make it appear more like a k, she finalized the process by sliding an illegible er onto the end of what had been Duff. She repeated this process fourteen times on the scratch pad, then when she deemed it almost believable, she made the same changes to Annie’s birth certificate.
In the blank space where there’d been no father’s name, she wrote “Earl Duff.” If the worst that could happen happened and they challenged the forgery, she would say Dr. Melrose had mistakenly given Annie Earl’s last name and then tried to correct it. If they refused to accept the altered birth certificate, Suzanna had no idea what she would do. Leaving here, the thing she’d once thought imminent, now seemed unthinkable.
The pale pink of morning was lighting the sky when she finally crawled into bed.
A short while later, when she sat down at the breakfast table, Ida looked over and asked, “Are you feeling okay?”
Knowing her eyes were rimmed with red, Suzanna gave a weary nod. “I’m just tired. Last night I had trouble falling asleep.” In a last-ditch effort to stave off the inevitable, she said, “Perhaps we should hold off on going to register Annie for school. We could do it next—”
“You don’t have to come. Go back to bed and get some rest. I can handle this myself.”
The thought of Ida trying to defend the forged birth certificate was worse than if she herself had to do it.
“No,” she replied glumly. “This is something I need to do myself.”
With Suzanna dragging her heels as if she were walking the last mile, it was late morning before they arrived at the school. She suggested it might be faster if Ida waited in the car, but of course, Ida would not hear of it, so the three of them went in together.
The registrar’s table was set up in the central hall and in front of it a waiting line.
“Perhaps we should come back later,” Suzanna suggested.
Obviously overhearing her words, the woman in front of her turned. “The line moves pretty quickly.” A flicker of recognition flitted across her face, then she smiled and said, “Ida? Ida Parker, right?”
Ida nodded and returned the smile. “And you’re…”
“Margaret Boden. The Saint Agnus choir, remember?”
“Good gracious, it’s been years!” Looking down at the little redheaded girl, Ida asked, “Is this your granddaughter?”
Smiling proudly, Margaret nodded then introduced Becky to the group. “And is this pretty little sweetheart your granddaughter?”
Ida chuckled. “Her mama’s my granddaughter; Annie’s my great-granddaughter.” She went on to introduce Darla Jean, and a full-blown conversation ensued. Moments later they were joined by another mom who said she was still singing in the choir.
By the time they reached the registrar’s table, the group of women were crowded together and chattering like a group of magpies. Their laughter grew louder, and the hallway was soon filled with the echo of their voices. When Suzanna finally stepped to the table, she wrote Annie Parker on the registration and listed Ida’s address. But with the commotion going on behind her and her nerves already frayed, her writing was almost illegible.
“Do you have a birth certificate?” the volunteer at the registration table asked.
Suzanna nodded, pulled the folded paper from her pocket, and handed it to the woman.
The volunteer checked the date on the birth certificate. Just as she was moving her finger across to where Suzanna had altered the name, a howl came from the back of the line.
“She bit me!” a childish voice wailed.
The volunteer’s head snapped up, and she stood to see what was going on.
“Quiet down back there!” she yelled. “I will not stand for such behavior when—”
She was interrupted by an irate mother. “Speed it up, Esther! The kids are getting impatient. They want to get out of here.”
Several others joined in, voicing complaints. Standing there with a steely-eyed glare, Esther insisted that unless the crowd quieted down, they would be here all day. When the complaints finally ceased, Esther returned to her seat.
By then Suzanna had snatched the birth certificate and folded it back into her pocket. As she turned to walk away, the flustered Esther called out, “Wait, I need to verify her last name.”
Almost in unison, the three women who had been chatting answered, “Parker! She’s Ida’s great-granddaughter.”
With a look of irritation still stuck to her face, the registration clerk gave a nod then waved the next person forward.
As Suzanna hurried from the building,
