Kate Concealed

by Cindy M. Hogan

  “But what about your birth mother?”

  “What about her?’

  “She was good, right? We’ve decided she turned good. Don’t you want to claim that piece of Italy she’s given you?”

  Carmela hadn’t even crossed her mind, but Ellie was right. Kate did think her birth mother was good. She couldn’t reject her or that part of her heritage. She could try to explore what she thought or hoped was good and leave the bad behind. It had to be possible. When Kate didn’t answer right away, Ellie added, “I mean, she was an FBI agent, right? She was going to bring the bad guys down.”

  Kate smiled. She loved how Ellie wanted nothing more than to make her happy. “While I know Vinny and Salvatorio and my uncles and aunts are ‘bad’,” Kate used hand quotes, “I don’t know that Carmela was. You’re right. All the evidence points to the idea that she was good and wanted things to change. But, I don’t know that I can explore what she had to offer me without touching the bad stuff too. And there’s no evidence she was an agent. It’s better that I leave this one alone at least for now. We should go to Italy as tourists. I’ve already ruined one of our trips. I’m not going to ruin this one too. Who knows what we’d find. If you want to pretend to be Italian some of the time, I’m totally game. But I’m American.”

  Ellie’s big lips pushed out into her famous kissy-face, but she said nothing more.

  However, Kate couldn’t stop thinking about her Italian-ness. The idea of it stirred and bubbled in her gut. Then she realized she still hadn’t told Ellie about the conversation she’d overheard.

  “I think my parents are keeping something from me.”

  Ellie’s eyebrows shot up. “Again? Seriously?”

  “After I got them to let me go to Italy, I overheard them arguing about something, so naturally, I listened in.” Ellie nodded, but frowned. “Anyway, it sounded like my dad didn’t want me to go because of something I could find in Italy.”

  “That’s weird. Italy’s nowhere near New Jersey.”

  “I know. They said something about me being a curious enough person to go looking for whatever it is.”

  “Hmm. More intrigue in the Hamilton house. Why am I not surprised?”

  “Yeah. I should have stormed in and forced them to tell me the secret, but I chickened out.”

  “Just confront them about it tomorrow. After church, you know, when they’re in really good moods.”

  Kate chuckled. Ellie liked to believe that church always made everyone genial and open to agreement.

  “I don’t know. Maybe.”

  Colby’s dad came back to their beach umbrellas with his wife and Colby waved the girls out. Some cute local guys joined their tossing game. It was a lot of fun, but Kate would never forget Duran. Never.

  5

  “I’m sorry I’m not going with you to the airport,” Kate said early the next morning while she hugged Colby in the Lamberts’ driveway. She hadn’t been to an airport since she had returned from New Jersey and the thought of going to one brought terrible memories of Galtem, a Marconi goon, who had spotted her in the airport in New York when she had been trying to escape the mafia. He had tried to detain her, but in the end, he was captured and taken to jail.

  “I get it. But, you’re going to have to get over your fear or else it’s going to be a bit hard to get to Italy.” Colby leaned back and peered into her eyes. She tried to look away, but he pulled her back into a hug. “Besides, I’m not worried about you, not with you kicking my butt with your Kung Fu magic.” He loved to tease her about her classes.

  “It’s not Kung Fu.” Kate smirked.

  He hugged her tighter. “I hate seeing you scared, that’s all.”

  “Yeah. I thought I was over it.”

  “I think it’s going to take more than self-defense classes to make you forget. I don’t know how someone gets over getting held captive and forced to do someone else’s bidding.”

  Kate shivered as Colby pulled back. “I was pretty lucky my father was the one who kept me in Jersey. It could have been a lot worse.”

  “There you go, always choosing to see the positive in what most would find the most horrifying thing ever.”

  “I have to, otherwise I’d be a mess and I refuse to let them make me fear every moment.” A deep ache sat in her gut and she clenched her stomach trying to get rid of it, but she knew it would stay until she talked to Special Agent Johansen. She should have called yesterday after she had those nightmares. For some reason, he always made her feel better.

  “Well, I’ll see you in a few days. Can’t wait.”

  “Me, neither. Have fun.”

  “You know I will. Oh, and here’s something you can chew on for the next few days. You’ll never know how you fit in this world if you don’t explore your past. Your heritage.”

  Kate crossed her eyes and stuck out her tongue.

  Colby got into the car with the rest of his family including Ellie and they drove away as Kate waved. She headed home and went straight for the kitchen, dropping off her pillow and overnight bag at the base of the stairs. She heard her mom talking and slowed her gait, not wanting to interrupt. If her mom was talking to someone this early in the morning, it had to be something important. Kate quietly rounded the corner. Her mom was by herself and she wasn’t on the phone, but she was talking to herself. And not in English. Kate froze and watched her mom for a minute, searching for a phone set on speaker on a counter. Her mom swung around, a big white cookbook in her hands. When she spotted Kate, it seemed that her mom’s eyes froze in shock for a quick second, but she recovered quickly. “Kate. Good morning.”

  “Morning, Mom. Were you just speaking another language?” Kate furrowed her brow.

  “No.” Her mom smiled but didn’t offer any explanation.

  Kate narrowed her eyes and shifted on her feet.

  “I mean, I’m trying. Yes. I’ve been using an online translator and stuff. We’re having this Italian dish for lunch today. How was Colby?”

  She was changing the subject and Kate knew it. “He was great. Totally excited to get to Italy. The program won’t know what hit it.” Italian?

  Her mom put the cookbook up in the cupboard and continued working at the stove. “I can imagine. I hope he’ll work hard while there and not get caught up in all the new and exciting things to see and do.”

  Kate eyed the cupboard. She’d seen that book before, but had never really looked at it. “This is Colby we’re talking about. Mr. Scientist. He applied for this program over a year ago and has been waiting anxiously ever since. I’m sure he won’t squander the opportunity.”

  “I’m sure you’re right. He is a good boy.” She smacked her lips before pressing them into a flat line.

  “Yes, he is.” Kate hated it when her mom referred to someone as good. No one was purely good or evil. Her thoughts drifted to Vinny, her birth father. She had to believe he was more good than evil.

  “You better go get ready for church. We leave in thirty. The kids have already eaten and are ready.”

  Kate wanted to ask her mom more about the Italian, but knew she’d barely have time to get ready as it was. She would ask about it later. She ran upstairs, took a quick shower, but didn’t wash her hair. No time. She slipped on a skirt and blouse and pulled her hair into a messy bun and then looked at herself, Colby’s parting words screaming at her. You’ll never know how you fit in this world if you don’t explore your past. Your heritage. Her olive skin, her shiny dark brown hair, dark eyes, and something about her facial features told Kate she was Italian. Did that mean something in those same genes which defined her looks also defined her choices?

  She still had a hard time swallowing the idea, but it was growing on her. A little seed had been planted and she was deciding if she wanted to pluck it out now or wait until she had some proof that it was ridiculous.

  ***

  Kate listened intently to the sermon, not that she usually didn’t, but she found questions rolling around in her brain as the priest
spoke. Maybe she could ask him what he thought about genes and decisions. Certainly he would have answers. He had direct discussions with God. Yes. She would ask him.

  She waited patiently afterward for the regulars to finish their praise of his sermon and then she moved in. Her family had already left the building and she felt a bit anxious by how long it had taken.

  “Why Kate, how are you doing?” Father Sebastian asked.

  “I’m okay.” She gave him a small smile.

  “Good. Is there something you wanted?” He tilted his head slightly as he asked.

  “Yeah. I was wondering if you could answer a few questions for me.” Kate’s heart thumped and she wrung her hands.

  “Certainly.” A few stragglers came and shook the priest’s hand and thanked him for his thoughtful words.

  “Well, I was wondering how in control we are of our own destiny. I mean, you said in your sermon that we must decide to follow Christ and stay on the path so that we can be saved, but someone the other day told me that we are predisposed to act and choose certain things. Does that mean that in reality we are a slave to our genes and have no real ability to choose?”

  “Well, that’s a pretty complicated question. Are you studying nature vs. nurture in school right now?”

  “No. It was just something someone said to me. This guy was of the opinion that my choices, while I believe they are my own, are not and are in fact determined by the genes that I was born with.”

  “Well, there is some truth to what that guy said, but we are not animals. God gave us the story of the creation in Genesis so that we can understand this concept. We do have choices. Unfortunately, many of us are not strong enough or aware enough to realize we have made a decision not based on what we know, but on what we are predisposed to do because of our genes or upbringing.”

  “So I do have a choice? My ancestors don’t determine my choices?”

  “Yes, but to determine if your choice came from your own will or the will of a previous ancestor or parent, it’s hard to say.”

  “So, I don’t have a choice.” Kate grimaced.

  “That’s not what I said. This is a complicated idea for you to be hashing out, and I’m afraid I don’t have a simple answer for you. We are influenced by those who came before, but I firmly believe if we become aware of that influence, we can choose differently than they would.”

  “That’s why this concept is constantly under debate.”

  “Yes. However, remember that you are not an animal and aren’t run by your instincts. You have a large functioning brain that can override the base instincts you were born with. You can be in control.”

  “Okay.” Her words came out hesitant, unsure.

  “And Kate,” he said. “You haven’t come to see me about what happened in New Jersey in more than a month. Is everything still okay?”

  She hesitated, but only for a second. “Yeah. Everything’s great. Thanks.” She hated lying, but her family had already been waiting a long time for her. She left feeling just as confused as she was before, but in a different way and with different ideas. Maybe she needed to explore her heritage in order to recognize where her decisions were coming from. Maybe by understanding her Italian-ness she’d be able to control her decisions. Maybe only her instincts were Italian. She didn’t have to listen to her instincts.

  She examined the stained glass windows as she walked to the doors of the chapel and she thought about Jace and how he’d taken his own life in Jersey. Her heart ached at the memory. Genetics or free agency? Was it his genes that made him believe the world was better without him in it? But, then why had Kate chosen not to take her life when she discovered what she had about her parents? Why had she chosen to fight? Was it because of her heritage? Maybe Italians and more specifically, her line of Italians had a fighting spirit that didn’t allow her to think the world would be better and instead needed her. At the moment she felt she was a puppet and the puppet master was her genes. She walked out into the sunshine, leaving the church and meeting up with her family who had waited for her outside.

  “Is everything okay, sweetie,” her dad asked, putting his arm around her. He smelled like he always did on Sundays, fresh and minty.

  “I think so. I just had a question for Father Sebastian.”

  “I’m assuming he answered?”

  She nodded. “Yep.” She hated that she still felt so unsettled.

  “Alright. Let’s go get some lunch. Your mom cooked Italian.”

  Kate was glad her parents hadn’t asked her about the question she’d asked the priest. They were good like that. Her stomach grumbled thinking about food. She’d only eaten a piece of toast at the Lamberts before Colby left.

  She was starving by the time they got home and went straight into the kitchen, but she was the only one. Everyone else had run to their rooms to change. Her eyes fell on the cabinet holding all the recipe books. She looked around and then headed quickly toward it. She flung open the cupboard and pulled out the book her mom had been looking at. Il Talismano della Felicità. She opened it and found lots of pictures, but also lots of words, all in Italian. No English included. The name Donati was scribbled on first page. She thought back on her mom holding the book in the kitchen earlier. Nowhere had she seen a phone. Her mom hadn’t been translating anything. She knew Italian. What did that mean? Had she learned Italian in college? Had her parents spoken Italian to her as a child? Where had she gotten this book? An ache spread through Kate’s gut. She heard the patter of bare feet heading down the hallway, and shoved the book back into the cupboard and shut the door. Then moved quickly toward the oven.

  Her brothers raced in. “We’re supposed to set the table!” They set the table with the dishes that their mother had stacked on the table before church. When finished, they took a seat even though there wasn’t any food on the table and no one was there to serve them, playing with their utensils as if they were wild animals.

  The girls came in next, chatting about some event at their school next week. Closely behind were Kate’s mom and dad. “Go ahead, Kate. You can pull it out of the oven. It should be ready.” Hot pads in hand, Kate opened the oven and pulled out the pot. It smelled heavenly.

  Her mom slid a drawer open and using a wooden spoon, stirred the vegetable mixture inside the pot, taking a quick taste. She then sprinkled a little salt onto the food before putting the vegetables into a big bowl and the Italian roast onto a platter. She pulled out some crusty bread from the cabinet and butter from the fridge.

  Kate desperately wanted to ask her mom about the Italian she’d been speaking, but it didn’t seem like the right time. She’d ask her after lunch.

  ***

  Kate went to find her mom after doing the dishes and came upon angry whispers instead. Her parents were in their room, their double doors slightly ajar.

  “No. We can’t tell her now. I refuse to expose her to that,” her mom hissed.

  “But this is Kate we’re talking about. She’s suspicious. I think we should just get it all out there into the open.”

  Kate’s feelings of betrayal rushed back as all the anomalies of the day flashed through her mind, heat spreading up her neck.

  “No. She doesn’t need to know. She’s not going where it will affect her. Not really.”

  “She’s going to be in Italy. It’s not that big of a leap.”

  There was a pause before he continued.

  “I know she isn’t your biological child.”

  “Really, Tom? Really?”

  “No. Hear me out.”

  Her mom said nothing. Kate wished she could see them.

  “She looks like you in so many ways, everyone says it. Her birth parents are Italian. One day she is going to put it all together and realize the truth. And, if we aren’t careful, she’ll feel our tension and know something’s up. We should face this head on.”

  “There’s nothing to face. It’s my secret. Not hers.”

  “What harm would it do to tell her?” Exasperat
ion filled his words.

  “This isn’t about her this time, Tom. It’s about me.”

  “But it involves her.”

  “It doesn’t. It’s my past and I want to keep her as far away from it as possible.”

  He huffed.

  So, it was her mom’s secret? What secret could her perfect mom be keeping from her and what did it have to do with Italy? Kate wanted to barge in and parrot what her dad was saying, but she didn’t want to miss anything and she didn’t want her parents to clam up when she stormed in. No, she’d listen and when they were done spilling all their secrets, she would join them and tell them she knew and the drama would be over.

  “Like I said the other day, this doesn’t affect her. I never want her to know, and she doesn’t need to know. She needs to have a good time and forget about her birth parents and all of that for a while. We don’t need to be throwing anything else onto her plate.”

  Her mom drew in a ragged breath. She’d been crying. “I can’t escape my past, but she never has to be involved in it. Why can’t you understand this?” Sobs filled the air. “Why can’t my past stay dead and buried?”

  Kate felt a bit ashamed for listening in at that point. Her mom was allowed secrets. Her own secrets. Kate had to admit that she had some of her own that she’d never share with her parents because they didn’t have any bearing on them. Heat filled Kate’s cheeks thinking about her mom knowing some of her secrets. Kate backed away deciding her mom’s secret would remain just that, her secret. At least for now.

  Kate joined her brothers and sisters in the family room and played games. After a while, their parents joined them. As the hours passed, the secret wedged itself between them. Kate couldn’t seem to relax. So much for not caring. She needed to clear the air if she was going to be okay.

  Finally, after the kids went to bed, Kate found her mom. She was watching a movie on TV with her dad.