The Vanishing Expert

by David Movsesian

  By the time a girl was Christina’s age, she had other options. It was unusual that a girl in her mid-twenties— the attorney’s initial impression of Christina was that she was older than she was— would venture down the path that Christina was now traveling. More than likely, a girl of Christina’s age who was faced with an unwanted pregnancy would make a private decision to either abort the pregnancy early on— ‘nipping it in the bud,’ as they say— or to arrange for an adoption on her own, usually through an agency who handled all the details. For those young women, their families were rarely involved, if for no other reason than because the young woman’s parents were usually beyond the age where they were likely to take on such a responsibility for an adult daughter who, quite frankly, was old enough to know better. They were, at the very least, better equipped to deal with the consequences of their actions. Those women rarely found their way to Eugene Sisk’s office.

  So it wasn’t unusual that the families who sought the attorney’s services— the adolescent girls and their parents— were sensitive about their predicaments. Shame would have been too harsh a word for most of them, although the attorney had witnessed his share of that as well. More than likely, they were just looking for someone to guide them through an uncomfortable process as swiftly as possible, without passing judgment, so they could get on with their lives.

  Eugene Sisk came across as an earnest and discreet man who appeared to empathize with their situation without ever displaying even a hint of condescension. After all, it wouldn’t be the first or the last adoption he would see under such circumstances.

  Of course, the seasoned attorney was aware of only part of the story. He knew only what Jean knew; he had no way of knowing the secret his other two clients were keeping from him (and from Jean) — that the kind, yet contemplative, man seated across from him was actually the biological father, and that he was seeking to legally adopt his own child.

  Only James knew that it wasn’t even the biggest secret he was keeping.

  As Sisk walked them through the adoption process, it was the identity— or more accurately, the consent— of the biological father that provided the only area of concern. Ideally, he explained, it would be in everyone’s best interest if the baby’s father were to sign a consent form agreeing to the adoption and waiving his parental rights. However, in 1992, paternal consent wasn’t yet a requirement in the state of Maine. (That would come to pass a few years later, in 1995.) For now, aside from warning his clients of the difficulties that would arise should the biological father surface to challenge the adoption, he made no further mention of it. Christina assured everyone in the room that it would never be an issue. The attorney expressed some concern, while Jean was trusting of her daughter’s judgment, despite the obvious and considerable lapse that had led to her current predicament. Only James knew for certain that Christina was right.

  After some time, Eugene Sisk leaned forward and clasped his hands together on the desk before him. He appeared uncomfortable with what he was about to say. He regarded James and Jean.

  “I have to apologize to the two of you, but I wonder if you wouldn’t mind giving me a few moments to speak to Christina alone. I just have a few questions I’m obliged to ask her and I’ve found it’s better if it’s done in private.”

  The three of them exchanged confused glances.

  “What kind of questions?” Jean asked him.

  Sisk offered a kind smile. “It’s strictly routine, I promise. It won’t take long.”

  Once James and Jean had left the room, the attorney stood up and came around the desk, settling in the chair next to Christina that her mother had previously occupied just a moment before. Christina looked concerned, although something in Eugene Sisk’s easy manner suggested she shouldn’t be.

  “I apologize if that seemed awkward,” the attorney said to her. “But in a case like this one, I like to spend some time to make certain I’m clear about your role in all of this. It’s not an easy thing you’re doing.”

  Christina offered a nervous smile and shrugged.

  “I just have a few questions, and then we can get on with it,” Sisk said.

  Christina shifted nervously in her chair. “Okay.”

  “This is a generous thing you’re doing,” Sisk continued. “It’s a great sacrifice. I need to make sure that you’re making it of your own free will.”

  Christina frowned at him. “Of course I am,” she said.

  “And no one has coerced you in any way into surrendering your child?”

  “No,” Christina offered curtly.

  The attorney scribbled on his note pad. “And there’s been no suggestion of compensation of any kind?”

  “That’s ridiculous,” Christina said.

  “I’m obliged to ask,” Sisk said apologetically.

  It was the attorney’s contrite tone that made it possible for Christina to endure his questions without being offended. She almost felt sorry for his having to ask them. It was a particular gift that the attorney had learned to use to his advantage; clients rarely took offense to even his most intrusive questions simply because he appeared so remorseful for having to ask them.

  After a moment, Sisk raised his eyes from his legal pad and was regarding her with an expectant expression, and Christina realized he was still waiting for her to answer his question.

  “No,” she finally offered. “No one is buying my baby.”

  Sisk smiled and made another note on his pad, and then he stopped writing and placed the notepad face-down upon his desk, folding his hands in front of him as if he was carefully considering his next remarks.

  “Whenever we’re dealing with open adoptions like these, where the child will remain with the family, it’s most taxing on the surrendering mother.” He was studying Christina’s face as he spoke. “It’s one thing to surrender a baby to be raised by strangers, whether the adoption is open or closed. That’s difficult enough. But when the child is going to be raised within the family, as is the case here, I want to make certain you’ve considered how complex this arrangement can be, particularly for you.”

  “I’ve already made up my mind,” Christina said. “You aren’t gonna talk me out of this.”

  “That’s the last thing I’m trying to do,” Sisk assured her. “I just want to make sure you aren’t entering into this arrangement without seriously considering the effect it will have on you, as well as on your relationship with your mother, and with James, and with the child for that matter.”

  Christina frowned. She wanted this conversation to be over. “What do you mean?”

  “Well, for starters,” Sisk offered, “you’ll have to watch this child grow up calling someone else ‘mother’. Some women might have a hard time with that.”

  “I won’t,” Christina insisted.

  Sisk regarded her for what seemed like a long time, watching her expression change from annoyance to concern to impatience. “Some women might come to resent the relationship between the child they gave up and the person the child thinks is his mother.”

  “His?” Christina asked.

  “Or hers.”

  “I won’t.”

  For the first time since they began their private conversation, Eugene Sisk appeared solemn. “Ms. Berkhardt, I don’t mean to offend you or upset you with what I’m saying to you, but I need you to understand that you can’t take this too lightly. If you manage to get through all of this without feeling the things I’ve described, you’ll be the rare exception. The most important thing to consider is always the child. Once you enter into this arrangement— I mean, once the child arrives and begins to regard your mother and James as its parents— from that point on, you’re obligated to honor it.”

  “What are you saying?”

  “I’m saying that at this point in the process, you still have the option, as uncomfortable as it might seem, to change your mind. Once the baby comes and an attachment is formed, you won’t have that option
any longer.”

  “You mean legally?” Christina asked.

  “I mean legally and morally,” Sisk said to her sternly. “It would be devastating to everyone involved if you were to be unable to live up to the agreement once the baby arrives, which is why I’m obliged to make absolutely certain that you understand that if you have any second thoughts, this would be the time to express them.”

  Christina’s expression was suddenly resolute. “I don’t.”

  “So you’re absolutely certain that you want to continue with this process?” Sisk asked her.

  “I am,” she said.

  “Do you have any questions?”

  “Just one,” Christina said. “Where’s your ladies’ room? If I don’t pee in the next thirty seconds, I’m gonna ruin this lovely upholstery.”

  Once everyone returned to Eugene Sisk’s office, the attorney guided them through a stack of documents, describing their purpose and highlighting areas he felt they should all take additional time to review. He stopped frequently to ask questions or to address any questions from his clients. At one point he stopped at the signature page of a contract and looked directly at James and Jean.

  “Are you planning to be married before the baby arrives?” he asked. He was looking mainly at Jean, who smiled warmly at James.

  “That’s the plan,” James offered.

  Jean nodded in agreement. “Yes,” she said, smiling.

  Sisk regarded Jean again. “Are you planning to take James’s name?”

  Jean frowned and glanced nervously at James. It was a subject they hadn’t yet discussed, even though it had been weighing heavily on her mind for some time. The Berkhardt name was Richard’s name, one of the many things he left behind when he so casually and callously abandoned them. In the midst of the divorce, when she was still angry and hurt and capable of being spiteful, she contemplated taking her maiden name back, but Christina was twelve years old then, and it seemed an unfair adjustment to inflict upon a child whose world was in the process of changing so profoundly. It was, Jean thought, the kind of burden from which a parent was supposed to protect a child. So Jean decided they would remain Berkhardts, despite the fact that the name reminded her every day of her disloyal ex-husband. From the moment she learned of her husband’s affair and his plan to leave her, the word itself had the sound of a broken promise.

  Over the years, she’d simply grown accustomed to it. Everyone in the community knew her as Jean Berkhardt. She’d built her business around that name, and to artists and business people from all over the state of Maine— and to her customers as well— the Berkhardt Gallery and the lovely and graceful woman who owned it were one and the same. There may have been a time to shed the name, but that time had surely passed. When she looked nervously at James, that was the thought that troubled her, largely because they hadn’t yet discussed the subject before Eugene Sisk put the question to her.

  Sensing her discomfort, James touched her hand and gave it a squeeze. “Jean has a very successful business and a reputation tied to the name Berkhardt,” he explained to the attorney, although James was looking directly at Jean, who began to smile. “We haven’t had this conversation, but I suspect she’ll want to keep it.”

  Jean’s expression brightened, despite the tears welling in her eyes. “That would be okay with you?” she asked him.

  “Of course,” James said.

  Jean leaned close to him and, taking his face in both of her hands, kissed him firmly on the mouth; Eugene Sisk blushed and looked down at his note pad.

  For James, the simple truth was that he had no particular attachment to his own name. He’d been a Perkins for less than two years, far less than Jean had been a Berkhardt. Although he never mentioned it, he even briefly considered taking Berkhardt as his own name, but seeing as it had once belonged— and still did— to Jean’s former husband, he quickly dismissed the idea. Had Jean been born a Berkhardt, he might have broached the subject, but all things considered, he decided to keep the notion to himself.

  “That makes sense,” Sisk offered. “But it means you have a decision to make with regard to the baby’s name.” He meant the baby’s last name— would the baby be a Berkhardt or a Perkins? In a perfect world, James thought, the baby would be a Moody and it would be a boy, most likely named William after his father. (William was his father’s given name, but by the time he was in high school, his friendly nature had earned him the nickname ‘Buddy’ and later ‘Bud’. Bud Moody was a Bud for far longer than he was a William.)

  James and Jean looked at each other, each hoping the other would offer an opinion. It was Christina who spoke up first.

  “It should be Perkins, shouldn’t it?” Christina asked. She’d been so quiet for such a long time that the sound of her voice, and her opinion, had even more weight to it. All three of them— James, Jean and the attorney turned to regard her.

  Jean smiled. “I think so, too,” she said.

  James considered letting the fates decide— if it was a boy, he’d be a Perkins; if it was a girl, she’d be a Berkhardt. In his mind, he’d already fallen in love with two Berkhardt women; he imagined he would have no trouble falling in love with another. He was about to suggest this idea when he became aware of the expectant looks upon the faces of the two Berkhardt women he already loved. They were smiling at him with anticipation as if they were waiting for him to open a gift they had just presented him. He knew then that the decision had already been made. He was going to be a father and, boy or girl, it was going to be a Perkins.

  James smiled. “I guess it’s settled then,” he said to the attorney.

  “That makes sense,” Sisk offered again.

  James wondered if the attorney was referring to the decision to name the baby Perkins, or if perhaps he was referring to James’s wisdom in yielding to the opinion of the two very strong-willed women in his life.

  When they concluded their meeting, Eugene Sisk slipped three identical stacks of papers into three manila envelopes and handed one to each of his clients.

  “You should take as much time with these as you need,” he advised them. “Since the baby isn’t due for another three months, there’s no urgency, but let’s plan to meet again in a few weeks to address any concerns and finalize the paperwork. The most important thing is to be sure you understand everything in those packets. If you have any questions, please call me.”

  All during the long drive that morning, as they meandered down the coast from Southwest Harbor to Portland, Jean tried to prepare James for his encounter with her older sister. Dee, she explained, had always been very protective of her, and while she always had Jean’s best interests at heart, she could come across as a bit overbearing to someone who was unprepared. She was hopeful that wouldn’t be the case with James, but she was leaving nothing to chance.

  Jean had become all too familiar with her sister’s interrogations over the years. One boy she’d brought home from college, shortly before she met Richard, described her older sister as ‘ruthless’. The boy claimed he was joking, but at the time, Jean decided it was probably an accurate assessment. (Looking back, relentless was the word she would have selected.)

  Jean could hardly find fault with her sister. After all, while everyone else in the family had been completely smitten with Richard when they first met him, Dee was the one person who didn’t immediately succumb to his charms.

  “He’s very nice, and he’s very handsome,” Dee had told Jean at the time. “There’s just something about him I can’t quite put my finger on.”

  “You’re always suspicious of the boys I bring home,” Jean complained at the time.

  “And I’m usually right,” Dee reminded her.

  Dee never warmed up to Richard, but she never said another negative thing about him to her sister through all the years that he and Jean were married. But when Jean finally told her that Richard was leaving her for the twenty-something year old paralegal in Boston, Dee reminded her of h
er initial impression of him.

  “Please don’t say ‘I told you so,’” Jean begged her at the time.

  “I won’t,” Dee reassured her. “But I did.”

  So as Jean prepared to introduce her sister to James, she was anxious, not just because she wanted her to like James, but because she knew Dee’s initial impression of men was so often accurate. She worried what it would mean if Dee’s assessment of James was anything like her first impression of Richard.

  As it turned out, she worried for no reason at all. Where Richard had been smooth and a little too charming to suit Dee, James was friendly and clearly a little nervous. He hoped to impress her, but didn’t fall all over himself trying to do it. In fact, he was quiet at first, perhaps a little too cautious after spending more than three hours in the car with Jean as she tried to prepare him— educating him on which topics to mention and which to avoid.

  To Jean’s great relief, Dee was surprisingly reserved. Rather than peppering him with questions, she simply observed James as he interacted with Jean and Christina. She saw instantly that they both clearly adored him, and from what she witnessed, he was kind and attentive to both of them. Just as importantly, he was polite and respectful of his hostess.

  What Jean didn’t realize at the time was that Christina had spent the last two months singing James’s praises to her aunt, and explaining to her what a wonderful influence he’d been on her mother. Dee could see for herself how happy Jean appeared. She knew that Jean had been cautious about letting men into her life since ‘the Richard incident’, as she called it. If both Jean and Christina felt that James was worthy, she saw no reason to question it, particularly since their marriage and the arrival of the baby were only a few short months away.