Not that it mattered. The pain inside him was so strong, so raw, it consumed him, his mind, his heart, his soul.
His thoughts had gone down alleyways that he’d totally forgotten, and ventured along lines that were nothing but wishful thinking. He’d never been in a place like this, and didn’t know what to do.
He’d picked up the phone several times, but this time, when the operator came on the line, he gave her a number.
Two rings later, the sound of the man’s voice nearly made his eyes sting.
“It’s Henry,” he said into the speaker.
“Henry! It’s good to hear your voice! How are you, son?” John asked.
He swallowed the lump in his throat. “Good. How are you? And Esther? How is she?”
“We are doing fine, just fine,” John replied. “How’s your case going? Nate told us about you being shanghaied. Nearly scared us to death.”
“I’m sure he made it sound worse than it was,” Henry answered. “The case is solved. I’ll be transporting the detainees to Washington soon.”
“Will you have time to stop and say hello? We’d love to see you.”
“I’ll try,” he answered, and for the first time, he really would try. He wanted to see them. “Can I ask you a question?”
“Of course, son, what is it?”
“It’s about my adoption.”
“I’ll answer anything I can.”
“Do you know what happened to my birth parents?” Although he’d convinced himself otherwise for years, that mattered to him right now. A lot.
“We always wondered if you knew, because you never asked,” John said. “The headmistress showed us the note that was tucked in your pocket the night your father left you there. It said that your name was Henry and that he was your father, and that your mother had died. It also said that he was very ill. He was afraid that you were going to get sick and didn’t want that. The note said that he would be back to get you as soon as he was better. There was no name, and when no one ever returned to claim you, it was assumed he’d died.”
Henry wasn’t sure what he’d expected to feel, but there wasn’t much there. Probably because Betty had already taken all he’d had to give.
“That’s all I know,” John said. “I’m sorry.”
“No, that’s what I wanted to know,” Henry said.
“The other thing I can tell you is that Esther had become quite frustrated with the headmistress. The woman had one excuse after the other as to why we shouldn’t adopt you, everything from you were too old and would never adjust, to that they thought you’d been stealing food, but couldn’t prove it.” John chuckled. “I’d never seen your mother so angry as when she told that woman if she said one more bad word against you, that she would be removed from her position. I of course agreed with Esther, wholeheartedly. It wasn’t until after we adopted you that we discovered why that woman hadn’t wanted you to leave.”
Confused, or still just numb, Henry asked, “Why?”
“Because you were practically running the place. You’d already completed all the courses they had and were teaching several classes of younger children. They all looked up to you, and you were so worried about them when you left there.”
He didn’t remember that. “I was?”
“Yes, you never admitted it—that wasn’t your way. It’s also why we enrolled you in junior college right away—you were at a loss with nothing to do.”
Faint memories were filtering into his mind, of teaching classes to the younger children.
“We continue to contribute to the orphanage every year,” John said. “In your name, for specific needs, new books and beds, blankets, and clothes. We remain very thankful that they provided for you until we’d adopted you.”
After a short pause, John asked, “Are you all right, son?”
“Yes,” Henry answered immediately. “I’m fine. I was just curious is all. Had some time on my hands and was just thinking.”
John laughed, “Well, if you ever find yourself with time on your hands, your mother and I would like to see you. It’s been a long time.”
“I’ll make it home, soon,” Henry answered.
“We do understand how busy you are,” John said. “But we still miss you.”
Henry’s insides clenched. “I miss you, too, and Esther, tell her I said hello.”
“I will,” John answered. “We love you, Henry.”
Henry hung up without responding, and instantly felt so guilty, he almost called John back, but didn’t.
Why? And why hadn’t he remembered teaching classes to the children? Just like he hadn’t remembered Mick Lawrence and Darrin Wolf until Betty asked? Because he’d convinced himself that there hadn’t been any good memories, until he’d completely believed it? Why? Because he didn’t want to be happy?
He hadn’t wanted to be, until he’d met Betty. She’d changed that. Changed him.
Betty couldn’t remember how long she’d lain on the ground after Henry had driven away that day, but she did remember how she’d collapsed. Slowly, like a burning building, one wall and then the other, destroying anything that had ever been inside, and how the shards of her broken heart had stabbed her so deeply, she’d thought she might die right there.
She hadn’t died and when she’d managed to lift her head, Jane had been sitting next to her.
“I told him,” Betty had whispered.
“I saw him drive away,” Jane had answered.
“He hates me.”
Jane had leaned down and kissed her forehead. “I don’t.”
Then Jane had helped her to her feet and walked her home, where she’d had to start living with her decision. For the rest of her life.
Today was the next step. She was at the church, wearing the long white dress that she’d agreed to wear, to please her mother. It wasn’t fair of her to take her misery out on others.
Her sisters were wearing new dresses, too, ones they had picked out. Jane’s was peach colored and Patsy’s was yellow. They both looked so nice, so pretty.
“You
