Once they’d calmed down, Miles said, “There’s something else.”
“Something else? Jesus, you’ve already given me one heart attack. You want to go for two?”
“This part may be even harder to tell you.”
Gilbert said nothing, steeling himself.
“You’re an uncle.”
“I’m … what?”
“You’re an uncle,” Miles repeated. “Several times over.”
“I don’t understand what you’re talking about.”
Miles was about to speak when his eyes widened and his head weaved slightly.
“Miles, are you okay?”
“Just … a little woozy for a second there. I’m okay. So, more than twenty years ago, I was looking for some extra cash. I made some money in kind of an unconventional way.”
Miles told him about going to the ReproGold Clinic, the sperm donation. Gilbert listened intently, mouth open, attempting to process so many family-related developments in such a short time.
“So,” Gilbert said, letting it all sink in, “you could have all kinds of kids out there.”
“As it turns out, just nine,” Miles said. He reached into an inside jacket pocket and pulled out a folded sheet of paper. “And here they are.” With some dramatic flair, he unfolded the sheet and handed it to his brother.
“Ta-da.” Gilbert looked at the words on the page. A list of names, with addresses and brief biographical details next to them.
Nina Allman, Todd Cox, Katie Gleave, Jason Hamlin, Dixon Hawley, Colin Neaseman, Barbara Redmond, Chloe Swanson, Travis Roben.
None of the names meant anything to Gilbert. Slowly, he said, “I thought—I didn’t think—how did you get these? I thought this information is confidential.”
“It is,” Miles said. “But someone with access to the relevant files was having some financial troubles. As the Godfather would say, I had someone make her an offer she couldn’t refuse.”
“Christ, I hope she didn’t have a horse.”
Miles smiled. “Nothing like that. I sent Heather, you know, who does our security work. Investigative stuff. She’s pretty remarkable. She says there’s no one more invisible in this world than a middle-aged woman. She works it to her advantage. Anyway, her efforts definitely expedited the process of finding out who my biological kids might be.”
Gilbert, still looking at the names, shook his head. “This is unbelievable.” He looked at Miles and said, “Why?”
“Why?”
“Why’d you go to all this effort to find out who they are?”
“Think about it,” Miles said. “Think about what they need to know.”
“Oh God, of course. There’s a high probability that … oh man. You’ve been in touch? They all know?”
“No,” he said. “Not yet. None of them know. I’ve been thinking about how to make the connections. It’s possible some of them aren’t even aware they weren’t conceived the good old-fashioned way. But I’m going to have to tell them. They’re going to have to know. They deserve to know.”
Miles started to feel light-headed again. He closed his eyes briefly, took a few breaths. “I’m okay,” he said without being asked.
Gilbert’s brow was wrinkled. “Why? Why do they have to know? I mean, you got to this point in life without knowing. Things happen when they happen. Why do you feel you have to tell them? What’s driving this? I mean, okay, I know you’re sick. You’ve explained that. You have only so much time left. But why disrupt their lives this way?”
“I’d imagine some would want to know more about who they are, what they might be facing in the future.”
Gilbert did not appear convinced.
“But let me get to something else first,” Miles said. “I’ve set up something for you, for when I’m gone. A trust.”
“A trust? What do you mean, a trust? Don’t you set those up for kids before they come of age?”
“In a lot of cases, yes. But they can be used for more than that. You’ll get twenty thousand a month, or nearly a quarter million a year. And this car, of course, which you can sell if you want. It’s up to you.”
“Jesus, Miles, that’s … generous of you, but why … why parcel it out that way? I’m your brother. You’re worth … millions. You think I can’t handle … I mean, considering I’m … your only real family.”
Miles couldn’t look his brother in the eye. He stared, briefly, out the window, then looked down into his lap.
“Oh,” Gilbert said, his focus sharpening. “I get it.”
“Gilbert, please understand that—”
“It’s Caroline. This is all about Caroline.”
Miles caught his eye briefly. “Yes, it’s about Caroline.”
“Christ, Miles. I don’t know who should be more insulted. Her or me.”
“I don’t mean to insult you,” he said. “But … I think I have to be frank here, Gil. I know you, and I know Caroline. I’ve observed the … dynamic of your relationship from its outset. Anything I were to leave to you I’d really be leaving to Caroline. She’d be on that windfall like rats on a discarded pizza.”
“That’s not … that’s not fair. And could you have picked a more disgusting analogy?”
Miles hesitated, unsure whether to proceed. “I’ve never told you this story. I kept it to myself because I blamed myself. I have to hand it to Caroline. She’s enterprising. Remember when we had that reception here for that team from Google?”
Gilbert nodded. “It was a big event. With the tent set up at your place, lots of food and drink. You even got Chicago to play the gig.”
“Right. And Caroline came. She made a few contacts. Later, she approached one of the team, made a proposal to him for an app. Something that would allow a regular person, for free and with ease, to instantly check a person’s criminal record, credit history, everything. Perfect for checking out potential hires, or some guy you just met. Not the worst idea in the world, actually.”
“What are you talking about?”
Miles raised a hand, asking him to just wait. “She wanted a hundred thousand to put the idea into development.”
“Caroline has no tech experience. That’s crazy. She never mentioned a word of this to me. I mean, she works in the court system, so I can see where she might have gotten the idea, but she hasn’t any skills to bring it to fruition.”
The hand went up again. “That’s why she told the Google rep the project had my backing. That I’d already chipped in a hundred grand. She showed him a letter, signed by me, endorsing the plan.”
Gilbert looked as though he might have a stroke. “Miles, I swear, I never knew anything about this. I have no idea what she did with that money.”
“She never got it.”
“What?”
“The Google guy, before he cut her a check, he called me to clarify one or two points. I was caught off guard there for a moment. I didn’t want to expose what she’d done, not to him, so I said I’d reconsidered my support of the project based on my own assessment of its merits. Privacy issues, getting access to literally millions of court records. So he pulled out. And then I called Caroline. It was a very simple call. I said, ‘I know what you did and don’t do it again.’ She apologized and asked me not to tell you. I never promised her I wouldn’t.”
“I can’t—what was she thinking? How did she think she’d get away with that? How did she think you wouldn’t find out? How the hell was she going to invent something she had no idea how to invent?”
Miles gave the question some thought. “I’m not sure Caroline thinks that far ahead. She comes up with a plan that has an immediate payoff, but doesn’t have a plan for the fallout.”
“What she did … it’s misrepresentation, or fraud, or both.”
Miles didn’t agree or disagree. “But I give her credit where credit’s due. It was a pretty audacious scheme. Anyway, that’s why I’m not leaving the bulk of my estate to you, Gilbert. I don’t trust Caroline, and I’m not confident you could
stop her from taking it all away from you. I’m sorry. And up until recently, I’m not really sure where I would have directed it. But now, I have a plan.”
It only took Gilbert a moment to figure it out. “You’re leaving it to these nine.”
“Yes. But I’m not going to make them wait. I want to start distributing it to them now. At first I thought, find out who they are and put them in my will. But say I hold on for ten, fifteen years. That’s a long time before they come into the money. And they might have a need for it long before then.”
Gilbert said, “You’ve given this a lot of thought.”
“I have.”
Gilbert was silent.
“You feel betrayed,” Miles said.
Gilbert’s mouth had gone dry. He moved his tongue around, trying to moisten it. Finally, he said, “I’m your brother.”
“I know.” Miles paused.
Gilbert’s cheeks began to flush. “Just so I understand, you’re divvying up your fortune to all the relatives you don’t actually know, and not recognizing the only one you do.”
“I suppose I’d be angry, too,” Miles said.
“Look, I can’t excuse what Caroline did. I’m deeply sorry about that, but …” And he started to shake his head angrily. “If you weren’t dying I’d kick your ass.”
“Don’t let that stop you.”
Gilbert tossed the sheet of paper back to his brother and gripped the wheel so hard his fingers went white. “I always looked out for you.”
“That’s true,” Miles said. “Why do you think I brought you into the company?”
“I’ve thought about that. And so has Caroline, for that matter. You didn’t hire me out of any brotherly loyalty. No, you did it so you could show me, every day, how much more successful you are than I am. I work for you. That’s the message.”
“That’s not true. That has never been true.”
“And now you’re coming to the rescue of a bunch of mystery kids. This isn’t about helping them. It’s about making yourself look good. Going out on a high note.”
“No,” Miles said. “Getting news that your time is running out, it changes you.” His eyelids fluttered. “I think I’m going to be sick. I need some air.” He set the piece of paper with the names on it on top of the dashboard, opened the door, and got out. A brief wind gust took the page and dropped it into the passenger’s-side footwell.
Miles took a few steps away from the car into the tall grasses beyond the shoulder and leaned over, putting his hands on his knees, waiting to see whether he was going to be sick to his stomach.
Gilbert looked down into the footwell at the piece of paper with the list of names. He reached down for it, held it in his hand.
Stared at the nine names.
And then he reached into his pocket for his phone, opened the camera app, held it away from the page until it was properly focused, and fired off several pictures.
Then Gilbert let the page flutter back to the floor.
Miles came back, opened the door, and settled into the passenger seat.
“I’m ready to go back,” he said, reaching down for the piece of paper, then folding it and tucking it into his jacket.
Twelve
Springfield, MA
The second time Chloe went to visit Todd, ten days after their first meeting, she went to his place. She wanted to get some video of him in his home environment, and see if his mother would be okay with answering a few questions for the minidoc she was putting together.
She entered his address into the map app on her phone. Her Pacer, not surprisingly, was not equipped with a navigational system. Nor, for that matter, was it equipped with air-conditioning, a working radio, or a windshield that did not have a huge crack in it. He had told her his place was immediately past a fire station, behind a line of trees. There was no name on the mailbox, but Todd had told her to look for the one that was totally covered in rust. Turned out there were a few of those, but eventually she found it.
Chloe turned into the first driveway after spotting the fire station, and very soon the trees opened up to reveal a mobile home. Parked out front were a small Hyundai and a Volkswagen Golf. At the sound of her approach, the front door of the trailer—well, there were actually two, but the one closest to the hitch apparatus—opened and Todd stepped out, waving. He was followed out the door by a woman in her fifties.
“Hey!” Todd said, bounding down the cinder block steps and rushing over to give Chloe a hug as she got out of her car. She was a little taken aback by the gesture, but responded in kind, putting her arms around him and giving him a squeeze.
Todd pointed to the woman, who was limping toward them, a smile on her face. “Chloe, this is my mom. Mom, this is Chloe.”
“I’m Madeline,” she said, and gave Chloe her second hug. Madeline had tears in her eyes. “I can’t believe it. It’s just a miracle. I’m so happy to meet you.”
“Yeah, it’s pretty neat,” Chloe agreed.
“Excuse my hobbling,” Madeline said. “I did something to my ankle, but I’m okay.”
“Let’s go inside,” Todd said. “You want a beer or something?”
Chloe shrugged. “Yeah, sure.”
Todd ran back to the trailer. Chloe took her time so that she could walk alongside Madeline, who wasn’t moving as quickly.
“He’s so excited,” Todd’s mother said. “Well, so am I. How was the drive?”
“Good. It was good.”
Madeline struggled with the steps up to the trailer door, but made it without complaint. Once inside, Chloe looked about. Dishes in the sink, takeout food containers scattered about. In her head, she was saying, I hope you didn’t go to any trouble, but kept her sarcasm to herself, this time.
Todd had taken three cans of beer from the fridge, handed one to his mom first, then one to Chloe.
“Let’s sit down,” Madeline said. “This ankle is killing me.”
“What happened?” Chloe asked.
Madeline laughed. “I was stepping out of the tub and I don’t know what I did. Turned it the wrong way. Who knows!” She cackled. “You get to a certain age you can throw your back out just wiping your ass.”
“Mom, Jesus,” Todd said, cracking his own beer and taking a swig.
They all sat at the small kitchen table. Chloe dropped into a chair by an open laptop and two cell phones, one of them a really cheap flip one like she hadn’t seen in a decade. When her elbow bumped the table the screen came life. She glanced at it and noticed, quickly, it opened onto a webpage listing various senior citizen facilities in New Hampshire.
“Let me get that out of your way,” Todd said, folding the screen down and shoving the laptop to the end of the table. “How about this, huh? We’re like a family.”
Madeline reached out and squeezed Chloe’s hand. “I’m already thinking of you as the daughter I never had.”
Chloe said, “Uh-huh.”
“I’m really looking forward to us getting to know each other.”
Chloe smiled awkwardly. “Me too. Did Todd tell you I wanted to ask you some questions, like, on video? I’m kind of doing my own little documentary about this—what should I call it? Journey of self-discovery? I don’t know if anyone will ever see it, but it’s something I feel I need to do.”
“Oh, yeah, sure,” Madeline said. She ran her fingers through her ratty hair, which looked not unlike an oversized bird’s nest. “How do I look?”
“Great,” Chloe said. She got out her phone. She’d decided to do everything handheld, and not use her minitripod.
“Is the lighting okay?” Todd asked. A single bulb hung over the table.
“Perfect,” she said.
Madeline smiled, getting ready for her close-up. Todd said, “I guess you don’t need me for this part.”
“Not really,” Chloe said.
Todd stood, scooped up the laptop and the two phones, and disappeared down the hallway that led to a room at the back of the trailer. Madeline and Chloe heard a door
close.
“Can I talk to you about something?” Madeline said, leaning in closer and whispering. “I mean, before you start filming?”
Chloe lowered the phone. “Okay.”
“I’m worried about him.”
“Oh.”
“He doesn’t listen to me. But he might listen to you. He’s been doing some things he shouldn’t.”
“Like?”
“I’m not sure. But you should ask him where he gets enough money to live like this. A place of his own.”
Chloe cast her eye about the debris-strewn kitchen. “Right.”
“He’s got some job at a computer store but I know they don’t pay him much. I know he’s up to something.”
Chloe thought about what she’d seen on the computer. “Why would Todd be looking up old-age homes? He told me his grandparents are all passed on, right?”
Madeline nodded. “Yup. All passed on. Why would you ask that?”
“It was on his computer,” she said.
Madeline thought about that. “I guess you should ask him.”
“I should ask him?”
“You’re his sister,” Todd’s mother said.
“I’ve only been his sister for a couple of weeks.”
“That’s not true. You’ve always been his sister. You only just found out recently. That’s different.”
“Still, you know him a lot better than I do. I think if anyone’s going to talk to him it should—”
“No, no, I think you came into our life for a reason.” Her eyes seemed to drift skyward for a second. “I think you came into our life to help Todd find his way. He can’t stop talking about you.” She laughed. “If you weren’t his sister, well, I think he’d be very interested in you in a different way.”
Chloe shivered. “Yeah, well, thanks for that. I’m really glad to have connected with Todd, too. And, you know, if he ever needs someone to talk to …”
“That’s wonderful. I’m so glad you feel that way. Okay, let’s do your little movie.” She sat back in her chair and flashed Chloe a Hollywood smile.
Madeline was sitting on the couch in front of Todd’s TV, watching Family Feud, her right leg resting on a plastic milk crate, an ice pack under her ankle, when it came time to say goodbye.
Find You First Page 9