Blue Jeans and Coffee Beans (29 page)

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Chapter Twenty-Seven

M
aris sits across from Attorney Tom Riley in a comfortable seating arrangement, a low round table between them. She is dressed in black, black denim bell bottoms with a crochet inset in the bell and a black halter top. She wears a wide gold watch, sea glass earrings and her pendant. Her eyes follow the attorney’s moves as he sorts through papers in front of him.

“Renee called me on my vacation,” he begins. “She told me you were upset and we assumed it could be only one thing.”

“I know that Eva is my sister,” Maris answers. His eyebrows move, just barely, but she registers his surprise that she knows.

“We thought it had something to do with that. So I asked Renee to get some papers together that might help.”

Maris sits on an upholstered chair, crossing her legs in front of her. “Why was Eva’s identity kept from me?”

“Let’s start here. You might want to look at these before I begin.” He sets a bundle of correspondence on the table. “Your father thought that these might mean something to you. And to Eva. He asked me to hold onto them, and I think it’s time you had them.”

Maris thumbs through the envelopes stamped with international postmarks. They are letters from Italy, mailed to her and Evangeline, that her father intercepted over the years. She slips one out of its envelope and reads a flowery card celebrating her name day. Inside, in lovely script, Elsa had written a friendly note.
I have a big garden and the plants love the summer sun. I think of you when I’m in my garden, you must be growing so quickly. Enjoy your special day! And God bless you.
The cards came in birth years of significance … a few when they were children, then one each as they arrived at sixteen, eighteen and finally twenty-one. Maris glances at two or three, then sets the bundle in her lap, her fingers wrapped around it.

Elsa had never given up. Never.

“Why did my father keep these from me? I would have loved corresponding with her, receiving her letters from Europe. My God,” she says, shaking her head. “I can’t believe this.”

Attorney Riley speaks slowly. “Attorney Fischer worked with your father on the adoption back then. When he retired, he filled me in on the case details. Apparently after your mother’s death, your father was overwhelmed, especially with the idea of raising two young children alone. You were older, three years old. But a baby was too much. He didn’t see how he could manage it.”

“So what does that have to do with Elsa?”

“A lot. She was furious with his decision to place Eva up for adoption and even offered to come here from Italy to stay with him for six months or so, to help.”

“She would have done that? Given up her life for all those months?”

“Without a doubt. Elsa was very close with your mother and knew she wouldn’t want her two daughters separated.”

Attorney Riley stands then and walks to the large paned window, leaning against the tall sill before continuing. “Your father wouldn’t budge, Maris, and arranged a semi-open adoption. That way he could place the baby with a family who would take good care of her instead of have her suffer under a very trying situation with him working fulltime and raising two babies, essentially.”

“Semi-open. What does that mean?”

“He had a choice in selecting the adoptive couple, and did meet them before the adoption. Everything was on a first-name basis only and he also arranged to receive updates on Eva’s life, on her health and milestones, at least once a year. The Lanes would send these via Attorney Fischer. But other than that, he relinquished all contact with Eva. You and Eva were so young, he thought your memories of each other would fade. You’d never know the difference and would have better lives this way.”

“So you’re saying that he did this out of love?”

“Absolutely. He may have been misguided by his grief. Don’t forget the horrible way he lost your mother. But he loved Eva.”

“But we were
sisters
.”

“I know, and you had two people who cared about you in different ways. Louis and Elsa. As your father, Louis had the legal right to make his decision. The argument was so heated between them that Elsa finally
did
come to the States to try to stop the adoption. But she got here too late. Eva was gone.”

Maris glances at the cards in her hands, feeling the heavy defeat Elsa had suffered.

“She was devastated,” Attorney Riley continues. “Words were spoken that could never be taken back. You know how things get said in the heat of the moment. Elsa wanted the adoption reversed and your father cut ties with her then. He also might’ve been afraid she’d one day tell you the truth about Eva. But he couldn’t stop her cards from coming. I think Elsa always hoped for a letter back from you. You can see by the cards addressed to Eva, too, at your home, that she never accepted the adoption.”

“Is my aunt alive? I’ve looked online, but can never find her, no name, address.” She glances at the envelopes. “But I never knew her married name.”

“Renee did a little research. She still lives at the address on those envelopes. From what I understand, she’s lived there in Milan for several years now.”

“Milan?”

“Yes. She owns a clothing boutique there. It’s very well-established.”

“Did Renee speak to her?”

“No. She was discreet. Any communication is up to you.”

Maris looks out the window beside her, out onto the old town Green dotted with barrels planted with geraniums and zinnias, a wishing fountain in the center of it. Elsa had never stopped reaching out to her from her home across the sea. She turns at a knock at the door then, seeing Theresa and Ned Lane walk in.

“Maris,” Theresa says, rushing over to kiss her on the cheek.

“Theresa?” She looks to Attorney Riley, then back to Theresa and Ned. “I thought you were on vacation.”

Theresa pulls a chair beside her. “We are. But when Renee called us right before we left, we arranged to be here today.”

“Maris,” Attorney Riley begins. “Maybe the Lanes can help you understand. But you have to realize that they came into this thirty years ago as an innocent couple seeking to adopt a child. Circumstances drew them into your life and they did what they could to sustain a relationship between you and your sister.”

At those words,
your sister
, Theresa takes Maris’ hand and she knows that the story is just beginning.

The appointment passes over the next hour with questions, hesitations and answers. Attorney Riley sits with them, mediating the talk. He asks Maris if she needs a glass of water; motions to Theresa to stop when she goes on too long about how Louis gave them keepsakes from his home for Eva; asks for further details when Ned says Louis thought he saw Maris in her window that morning, watching him drive off for the very last time with Eva.

“It was very early. Louis arranged for a babysitter to stay with you while he brought Eva to us at the agency. The doorbell, he thought it must’ve woken you up when the babysitter arrived.”

Maris looks from one to the other.

“Evangeline was the ship that brought your grandmother to America. We agreed to keep her name, but called her Eva instead of Angie.”

From Ned to Theresa.

“We didn’t live at Stony Point when we adopted Eva, but moved there a few years later. Never knowing your family vacationed there. You were playing on the beach one summer, flying a kite, and,” she pauses. “Well. You made friends with Eva, completely unaware that she was your sister!”

They speak faster, wanting her to hear everything at once now.

“We met with Louis on the beach, so surprised he’d rented a cottage there, and we made the summer visit arrangements after that.”

“We wanted to keep you in each other’s lives.” They interrupt each other, and she watches Theresa, then Ned, then Theresa again.

Secret, it was the only way he’d do it. Louis wanted the truth hidden … Children wouldn’t understand … More harm than good … We agreed … To keep you together … Sisters … So we gave our word, silence.

Every muscle in her body tenses. A chance summer meeting on the beach changed everything. A cold November day … braking caused a slight melting of the thin ice, producing an even thinner layer of water between the tires and the ice, there was no traction. Time shifted. The view swung violently around: sleet, sand, ice, sea, Eva, Theresa, her mother grappling with a steering wheel,
Angie
she whispered, hands turning the wheel, this way, that way, the force of it all changing everything. Life reeled, her view spun, floating in the beach tubes together, water sparkling on the waves, a baby seat strapped beside her in the car, glistening icicles hanging from a split rail fence, sandcastles, her mother wearing a wool cap, looking over her shoulder, panicked, sitting on the boardwalk hooking pinkies, Foley’s, crabbing, the jukebox, a gray sky spinning past, dances, Scott, a ship, Jason.

It is all a blur, her life, scenes spiraling in a sickening vertigo: an oak tree, the huge truth, looming in sight, overtaking, still, quiet, a photograph dropped on the table, the soft hiss of freezing drizzle sprinkling the roof of the idled car, beginning it all.

“Maris, wait,” Theresa says when she stands and picks up her handbag and the bundle of envelopes. Theresa stands too and reaches for her arm. Maris glances at the hand holding her back before looking at Theresa’s face, the face of the woman who would never have been in her life if it weren’t for the wilting flowers set yearly at the base of an old oak tree. The accident never stopped in Addison. It skidded ceaselessly. Even now, every day at Stony Point would always be the result of a car skidding on black ice.

She turns and walks out of the office, slipping the cards into her handbag, hearing Renee call her name as the door closes behind her.

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Chapter Twenty-Eight

S
he calls Kyle and Lauren, Jason at work, Maris’ cottage and her cell. Eva keeps checking in with them once Theresa and Ned show up unannounced at her house, telling her things are bad. By dinner, everyone worries. Food and coffee and dishes and glasses and talk fill her kitchen. Someone brought grinders and Matt comes home with a pizza. Extra chairs are pulled from the dining room and squeezed around the mahogany kitchen table. Theresa and Ned repeat the details of the attorney’s meeting and Jason sits beside them, listening carefully. Kyle asks Eva where Maris’ favorite haunts are. Someone can check them out.

Eva looks at him blankly. “Well, here I guess. I mean, she likes the secondhand bookstore and to stop for a coffee. But Stony Point is really her haunt.”

“Particularly this kitchen,” Matt says. “It’s weird with her not being here.”

“I knew it. I just knew it,” Eva says. “It’s too much for her to handle alone. She needs us with her.”

Lauren comes back from a quick walk along the beach and shakes her head
no
when everyone turns to her. “She’s not there.” She moves behind Kyle and sets her hands on his shoulders.

“This just isn’t like her,” Eva insists.

“Maybe it is,” Jason counters. Everyone turns to him now. “How do we know? If she was really upset—”

“But we had plans today,” Eva argues. “No. No, she wouldn’t not show up without calling. She knows I’ll worry, that I’ll think her car broke down on the side of the highway somewhere.”

Theresa moves to the counter, pouring a decanter of water into the coffee pot. “You might be wrong, Eva.”

Eva turns and looks over at Theresa. “Well my God, just how bad was it there today?”

“She was really, really quiet,” Ned says. “I’ve never seen her like that before. She just stopped talking.”

“Why the hell didn’t you ever tell us? Do you know how crazy it drove me all these years, wondering about my birth mother?”

“I was going to, I swear. Right when you graduated high school, Eva. I was up in the attic, getting things ready. I had the star necklace with me, it was time. And then.” Theresa takes a quick breath. “And then you climbed into the attic that rainy morning telling me you were pregnant. Well. I quick dropped the necklace, closed that old trunk, and that was that. You were eighteen and having a baby? I couldn’t tell you the rest, it was too much for you.”

“But for all these years?”

“It was a trying time, then, with Taylor. Don’t you remember? And well, years went by and then I didn’t know where I put the necklace, I couldn’t find it anywhere, and Maris moved away, so I let it go. I just never knew how bad this situation could get.”

Eva stands then, runs out of the kitchen and up the stairs into her bedroom, not caring if they hear her slam things around. A minute later, she storms back into the kitchen and drops a large carton on the table, shoving aside the food and dirty plates. “Well now you’ll know how bad the situation got.”

“What’s going on?” Matt asks. “Eva?”

“I don’t get it,” Eva begins, her hands on her hips. “They keep protecting Maris’ father, who happens to be my father as it turns out. They swore themselves to secrecy so no one would know, so he wouldn’t be looked down upon and his stupid decision wouldn’t be criticized.”

“Eva, we were afraid he’d end the summer arrangement if we told you,” Theresa tries to explain.

“Well what about Maris now? And what about me? Okay?” Eva takes the carton and tips it over on the table, its contents spilling across it. Monogrammed coffee cups, a beach umbrella spoon rest, tubes of lipstick, a silver pocket mirror, the illustrated
Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland
, amethyst stud earrings, a small teddy bear, a picture frame, fashion scarves, a child’s beaded bracelet, a ballerina music box, fancy pens, stationery, Christmas ornaments of red and silver, a digital camera, sunglasses. “Are you happy now?” she yells at Theresa and Ned.

“Hey, hey,” Matt says, standing and turning her to him. “What is all this?”

She looks at him for a long second, her eyes brimming with tears. “I stole it, okay?”

“What?”

Nobody moves. Their eyes silently look from Eva to the loot on the table. Kyle looks back at Lauren then, while Jason and Matt watch Eva closely.

“Eva,” Theresa says, still standing at the coffee pot. “What do you mean you stole it? I don’t understand.”

“What? What’s not to understand?” she asks, crying now. “Louis didn’t want anyone to know he gave me up, maybe because it was the wrong decision after all. And for all these years, you’re protecting him and this is how crazy the whole secret made me. I was always searching, searching for my roots. I stole all this, okay? Every time I listed a house, or showed a house and saw something that could be a part of my birth mother’s life, or could be a memory from the life I did
not
have with her, a life I only imagined, I took it. I
built
a life.” She picks up the spoon rest. “The meals we might have cooked together,” she says, then sets it gently down. “The pretty lipstick she wore, that I never got to see her put on.” She opens a tube of lipstick, then drops it and shuffles through the items. “The birthstone earrings she picked out, special for me,” she says, holding the amethyst studs up for everyone to see. “Here, look at this.” She turns on the camera and shows them pictures stored on the screen, images of a woman and young girl sitting on a picnic table bench, having an ice cream together, the sun shining behind them, a lake in the distance. Then she reaches for the book. “Stories she never had a chance to read to me,” she whispers, still crying.

“Oh, Eva,” Theresa says, sitting beside her now, looking at the mess. “I’m so, so sorry.”

Matt reaches over and begins putting the things carefully back into the carton.

“It’s too
late
for apologies,” Eva insists. “Way too late. If this is what happened to me, who the hell knows where Maris disappeared to. This is big stuff to handle. Big. And it’s getting late now, and we always check in with each other. Where is she?”

Lauren hurries around the table and hugs Eva close. “It’s all right, hon,” she says, stroking her hair. “We’ll find her. Maybe Jason’s right. I mean, she’s had a lot to deal with lately. Maybe she needs a little time alone.”

Eva backs up and looks through her tears from Lauren to Jason, then turns and stacks the dirty plates on the table. Matt continues setting the items back in the box while Theresa gets the coffee cups from the cabinet and begins pouring coffee.

“Eva,” Jason says, and she turns to him. “I totally get this.” He motions to the box. “But Maris, well, I can’t just sit here waiting. Where’s her father’s house in Addison?”

“Do you think she’d be there?”

“It’s worth a shot. I’m going to take a ride there.”

“Okay.” Eva sets the pile of dishes on the counter near the sink and wipes her eyes with a napkin. “Okay. You call me right away if she is.”

Jason nods and stands to leave.

“Do you want a coffee for the road?” Eva asks.

“No, I’m good.”

Eva jots down the address and takes his cell number. She and Matt both walk him to the front door. “You know how to get there?” Eva asks, handing him the slip of paper.

“I’ll put it in the GPS.”

“Okay. And call me either way,” Eva says.

“The night shift’s keeping an eye out for her car,” Matt tells him.

“Thanks, man. I’ll check in later.”

The air changed during the past few days with a coolness lifting off the water. Jason stops home to throw on a long sleeved shirt loose over his tee, turning up the cuffs while standing in his kitchen. A flash of annoyance rises when he checks his cell and has no messages. “Come on, Maris,” he says, switching on the light over the sink and grabbing the flashlight from the cabinet on his way out. “Call me already.”

Before picking up the highway, he stops at Maris’ cottage. Maybe she left a note, something. He stands in her living room, his eyes scanning the furniture for clues. “Where are you?” he asks, rushing up the stairs to her bedroom and opening her closet. Her clothes hang in place, but a suitcase lays open on the floor. The bed is made, the window opened above it. A breeze moves the lace curtains and lifts a paper off her bedside nightstand. He pulls open the little drawers in the table, searching for a telephone number, an address, a name, anything. His business card is there, the one that he’d written his cell phone number on. So does she have any way of reaching him now? With Madison shadowing his every move, he goes back downstairs, nearly tripping on the dog following right at his side.

“God damn it, Maris, what are you doing?” he asks, randomly moving though the dining room. He sees then why she hasn’t answered her cell all day. It sits on the table alongside all her fashion sketches and the velvet ring box. He opens it and takes a look at the diamond. Apparently she doesn’t want any part of her life with her. Not Scott, not a phone, not the jacket slung over a chair, not her designs, not his cell number. She has walked clean out.

Before leaving, he switches on her kitchen light and rifles through a few drawers and cabinets, slamming some, leaving others half closed, silverware in disarray, pieces of paper on the floor. Madison sits, watching him closely. He finds her food, feeds her dinner and turns to go when the ache in his leg begins to throb. It’ll feel good to sit and drive for an hour, but first he grabs three aspirins from her medicine cabinet, trying to stall the pain.

In Addison, the headlights sweep the lawn like a searchlight when he pulls in to her father’s driveway. The small garrison colonial, with its multi-paned windows, is dark. He rings the bell, tries the door handle, then moves behind thick shrubs to the living room windows and shines the flashlight inside the house. The white light slices a narrow path through the living room into the empty dining room and halfway up the dark staircase, following the maple banister as far as he can. The balusters throw thin shadows on the stair wall behind them as he moves the light.

“What have they done to you?” He snaps off the light and makes his way out from behind the bushes. The warm SUV engine clicks as it cools down. Crickets chirp slowly. The street seems pleasant enough with lots of trees, with colonials and cape cods tucked back onto deep, shadowy lots. Lampposts throw circles of welcoming yellow light. He can picture her growing up here. How many times had she walked out this front door, meeting a friend, going to school, a job? He glances over his shoulder. Where would she go now?

He looks out over the front lawn. Someone has been keeping it mowed while the house awaits a sale; the realtor’s For Sale sign stands near the street. Then he turns back to the front doorway. She said something to him recently, and he tries to think of her words.

Her drug of choice. Her tranquilizer. And he knows where he has to go. She lost herself, and her past, in the big city. If he’s right, he only hopes she hasn’t boarded the plane.

Maris stares out the window onto the night, studying the maze of runways below. Twinkling lights lead the eye to the end of each runway, then into the black sky. It looks like the sea at night, the water and sky inky, punctuated with buoys and lighthouses. She can picture a slow moving barge crossing Long Island Sound, its lights trailing across the horizon like the runway lights.