He bit his lower lip and took a deep breath. After several seconds of silence, he leaned forward and folded his hands. “Your sister Denise has blood type A, and your older siblings have blood type O.”
“Yes.”
The information hit Lynn like a hard blow to the stomach, but from the look on Ali’s face, she didn’t understand. The doctor wet his lips.
Ali’s voice raised. “What’s going on?”
Holy shit! Lynn leaned over and put her arm around Ali. She rubbed Ali’s shoulder.
In a panicked tone, Ali said, “Do I have cancer or something?”
“No.”
A knock sounded on the door, and the office assistant walked in. “Here is a paper copy of the hospital archives you requested. I was surprised. Many of the records over thirty years old were destroyed to save space. You’re lucky they still exist.”
“Thank you.” He forced a smile at Lynn and Ali. “Please give me a minute.” He scanned through several pages of each file then cleared his throat. “Your mother was type O, and Mr. Clairmont was type A. I’m sorry Ali, but it’s impossible for Mr. Clairmont to be your father.”
The color drained from Ali’s face, and she fell into Lynn’s arms. Lynn whispered in her ear, “I’m here for you. It’s going to be okay.”
The doctor retrieved a drink. “This juice might help.”
Lynn could see Ali’s hand slightly shake as she brought the drink to her lips.
“Would you like to lie down?” The doctor’s voice was soothing.
“No. I’ll be all right. I need to wrap my head around this. How positive are you that he’s not my dad?”
“One hundred percent. It’s genetically impossible. I know this information must be shocking to you, which is another reason for postponing your surgery. We will try to find a blood type match as quickly as possible. In the meantime, it will give you time to absorb the information we’ve discussed.”
Ali gripped Lynn’s hand. “Take me home, please.”
The clock read nearly six p.m., Ali rolled out of bed and groggily shuffled down the hall, yawning. A wonderful smell wafted in the air, she abruptly stopped. Brownies.
Lynn kissed her forehead and lips, then pulled her into a warm embrace.
“I was about to wake you. I fixed a chicken casserole. We missed lunch.”
Ali swallowed. “Smells great.”
“Honey, it might be a good idea to talk to a therapist.”
Ali bit her bottom lip. “Yep. Sounds like a good idea given the fact my mother lied to me for years, didn’t protect me, and the man I thought was my father made me feel as if I caused all the problems. Just a tad above the normal shit storm everyone deals with.”
Lynn leaned her forehead against Ali’s. “You need to focus on the fact that you’re an amazing person who has accomplished a lot in your life. Now sit while I serve.”
“I wonder if my older sister and brother know anything. Someone must have suspected. I bet Aunt Judy knows. What if my father was one of the guys at my mom’s funeral or at the wake?” A wave of uneasiness rolled through her.
“Calm down. There’s plenty of time to figure things out. For now, let’s eat.”
Lynn spooned out the casserole onto plates. Glasses of water, rolls, butter, and the brownies were already on the table. While Lynn ate, Ali stared at the brownies.
“Sorry, Ali. I’ve always followed the rules. There’s no marijuana in them.”
Ali gave a weak smile. “Lame joke.”
“I know my cooking is not the best, but I do a pretty good casserole.”
Ali mumbled, “It’s the brownies.” She reached out for Lynn’s hand. “It’s not your fault. Thank you for taking care of me and loving me.” After squeezing Lynn’s hand, she took a few bites. “We used to vacation at Lake Anna when I was young. Mom would always bake brownies in the cabin.” She wiped her eyes. “That was long before Edward started drinking heavily. Long before he started abusing me. At least now, I understand why he took his anger out on me.”
“You were a kid. It wasn’t your fault. Not only was he in the wrong, but your mom should have stopped the abuse and moved out or kicked him out.” Lynn smoothed her hair. “How old were you when things started going wrong?”
“He always yelled, and it got worse over the years. I was thirteen when he first hit me. Stephanie and Kevin had already moved out of the house. The yelling and abuse grew worse every year of high school. I always thought it was because I was gay. I came out my junior year, and the shit really hit the fan.”
“Sounds like Edward didn’t find out he wasn’t your father until you were older.”
Ali scrunched her brows. “I think you’re right.”
“There’s plenty of time to dig for facts. You’ve only had a bowl of cereal all day. Please, eat something, honey.”
“I love you.” Ali kissed Lynn’s hand.
Chapter 48
Ali was sitting on her Aunt Judy’s front porch swing. It was another delightful day in October, partly cloudy and sixty-six degrees, but she was too nervous to enjoy it. She kept scrunching her toes in her shoes, and contemplating the questions she wanted to ask. When the screen door slammed, Ali jumped.
“How’d the doctor’s visit go the other day? Scotty says you’re going to have surgery.” Aunt Judy handed her an iced tea.
“Fine, but I decided to put it off. I have too much going on right now.”
“You sounded a little upset on the phone. Is there something wrong?” She watched Ali out of the corner of her eye. “Got problems with your new girl, Lynn? She seems pretty nice. Scotty raves about her and not just about her carpentry skills. You need to bring her over for dinner.”
“No, we’re fine. Thanks though. No one likes to admit I’m a lesbian, not even Mom when she was alive, but it never seemed to bother you.” Ali smiled. “That means a lot to me.”
“If she makes you happy, then that’s what counts. We were taught not to advertise our business, but that was a different time.”
Despite the racing of her heart and mind, she softly said, “I need to know some important things about Mom.”
Aunt Judy lowered her drink. “Oh, like what?”
“My father. I know he’s not Edward.”
Ali could see the worry lines forming on Judy’s face, then she looked out over the lawn and took another drink.
“What makes you think that?”
“I have a rare blood type. One that makes it impossible for Edward to be my father. Mom has passed, and I can’t ask her. Do you know anything?”
Judy rubbed her temples. “I understand the curiosity, but what good would it do now? Think about your brother and sisters.”
“What about me? Don’t I deserve the truth? I think my siblings can hold their own.” The silence dragged on until Ali pleaded. “Please don’t treat me like Mom by dismissing my feelings.”
Judy let out a sigh. “I’m sorry, dear. I don’t know much.”
“That’s okay, just tell me what you do know.” Ali wrapped her arm around her aunt.
Judy put her tea on the end table. “Well, your mom,” she swallowed, “used to have one of those classified jobs. Like your job. Only back then, it was illegal for her to say where she worked.” Judy leaned in and whispered into Ali’s ear. “She worked for the CIA.”
Ali’s grip loosened around her aunt’s shoulder. “When? I thought her only job was the bakery.”
“Carol worked the classified job from 1961 until she became pregnant with you. She quit right before Christmas 1971. When Edward lost his job again, she got a job at the bakery. You were in school then.”
“Are you sure about this?”
Nodding, Judy said, “Oh, yes.” Her voice dropped to a whisper again. “The building had no windows, a tall fence around it, and guards at the gate. I sometimes dropped her off.” Judy’s eyes widened. “The guards carried guns.”
“What did she do?” She couldn’t visualize her mother other than the bakery woman.
“Secretary, I think. Most women back then didn’t have many opportunities. Your family was lucky she got the job. The pay was excellent, and your family needed money with Edward’s work on and off.” Judy patted Ali’s hand. “Just before anyone knew Carol was pregnant, she said her position was eliminated for budgetary reasons. Years later, she told me the truth.”
Ali dropped her arm from her aunt’s shoulders and steadied herself on the swing. “Go on. I need to know.”
“She had an affair with a married man and was certain you were his child. Things were more complicated then, and Carol made the choice not to leave Edward.” Judy lowered her head. She wiped her eyes before turning back to Ali. “Of course, that was long before Edward started drinking and hitting your mom.” She took a deep breath and let it out. “I’m sorry. It took me some time to figure it out. The marks didn’t always show, and I didn’t notice until it was too late. Your mom was so ashamed of what she had done that she took the punishment Edward dished out.” Judy waded up the napkin in her lap. “Your mother was a wonderful woman, but she changed after Edward started drinking. The life seemed to go out of her, and she just lived day to day.”
Ali wondered if Judy knew Edward also abused her but was hesitant to go there. “Does anyone else know about the job or that Edward is not my dad?”
“I don’t believe so. Edward didn’t know about the man until you were older. You were about twelve when he found out about the money.”
“Money!”
“Shush.” Judy grabbed her arm. “Let’s move inside.”
Ali followed her aunt into the living room. She felt a little lightheaded.
“Oh, child. You look so sad. Maybe we should stop here.”
“No, I want to know. I need to know. What if there are medical conditions that I could inherit?”
Judy nodded. “I never met the man. I don’t even know his name. But apparently, he was a gentleman enough to pay monthly child support. Anyway, Edward discovered the money.” Judy rubbed Ali’s hand. “But you know, your real father kept on paying Carol. Edward didn’t object and took control of it until he died.”
Ali’s mouth gaped. She wet her lips. “I never had any college loans. Did my real father pay for my education?”
“Carol said he paid extra. She didn’t elaborate.”
Ali was overwhelmed that her dad had not abandoned her and had paid for her support. But why hasn’t he contacted me?
“Oh, my. I think this is all too much for you. Some things might be better left in the past.”
“Please, Aunt Judy. I have to know.” Ali leaned closer. “I’d like to know who my real father is or was.” Ali swallowed. “My agency, NGA…well we…” Her voice quavered. “We work with CIA. Can you give me any more details? You said you drove Mom to work sometimes. Do you recall where?”
“It’s not there anymore. It was torn down two or three years ago.”
Ali’s breathing slowed while her heart rate climbed. “There was a building at the corner of First and M Streets.”
Judy snapped her fingers. “That’s it. It was a stone’s throw from where the baseball stadium is now. That area is so nice with all the new businesses and restaurants.” Judy patted her hand. “I’m sorry dear. That’s all I know.”
There was a knock at the door. Judy went to see who was there. Ali took some breaths. She wiped her hands on her pants. My God, this can’t be.
“Ali, honey, it’s Lynn.”
“Hi, I’m done at the hardware store and thought I’d do some grocery shopping. Need anything?”
“Aunt Judy, do you mind if I talk to Lynn alone for a minute?”
“Sure, I’ll be in the kitchen. Call if you need me.”
Ali whispered, “You’re not going to believe what she told me. I’m still trying to take it all in.”
Lynn sat next to her. “You look a little shell-shocked.”
“I’d like to go home. I think I’ve had enough surprises for one day.”
Chapter 49
Ali closed her eyes and hung her head partially out the window like a puppy dog, sucking in the fresh air. “Lynn, pull over.” Ali pointed to the park.
“Tell me what’s wrong, sweetie.” Lynn draped her arm over Ali.
“As I said, you’re not going to believe this. I’m not even sure I do.” She told Lynn about her dad knowing about her and explained the support payments.
“Sounds like your dad’s a decent guy.”
The emotions swirled in Ali again. “Lynn…he…”
“Hey, hey. Relax. Breathe. I’m right here.” Lynn massaged her neck.
Ali took in Lynn’s warmth. “We all worked for NPIC.”
“I thought you always worked for NGA. What’s NPIC? I’ve heard that acronym before, but I’m not sure where.”
Ali rubbed her temples. “I work for the part of NGA that used to be under the control of CIA’s National Photographic Interpretation Center. After a major reorganization back in 1996, Congress realigned us with the Department of Defense.” Ali twisted to face Lynn. “It’s beyond wacko insane. We all worked the same type of job, in the same building at different times.” Ali shook her head. “They demolished the old D.C. building after we moved the agency to Virginia.”
“Wow.”
“Yeah, tell me about it.” Ali’s hands flew up. “What if my dad got me hired? What if he works at the agency now or I’ve worked on one of his projects? Lynn that’s a conflict of interest.”
“Hold on. First, he cared enough to help. Maybe he did give you a recommendation for the job. Nothing wrong with that. Second, he’d be in his seventies or eighties and probably retired.” Lynn’s brow furrowed, and she bit her lip. She hoped he was retired and not deceased.
“What are the chances? It’s crazy, right?”
“Honey, what do you want out of this?”
Ali leaned in and rested her head in the crook of Lynn’s arm. “I want to know who he is, if I look like him, if I have aunts and uncles, cousins, and what his parents were like, and if I have other brothers and sisters.” Ali finally took a breath. “I want to hear his story, and why he never visited me.”
Lynn kissed the top of her head. “Who has your mom’s financial records? That might give you a clue.”
“There are tons of boxes in Stephanie’s attic. She volunteered to sort them from personal items. We were supposed to meet in a couple of weeks.” Ali slapped her hand on her forehead. “Shit, I hope she didn’t throw anything out. We only have to keep seven years of papers since the initial estate forms were filed.”
“Put your mind at ease. Start looking through the papers now. I bet she will welcome you taking over the task.”
Ali nodded. “Sounds like the best place to start.”
“What about your friend at work?”
“Yeah, Dory knows a lot of people and knows tons of stories. NPIC was a fraction of the size NGA is now.” She took in a breath and blew it out. “But things were so compartmented back then, and people from other divisions only talked to one another if it was necessary.”
“It won’t hurt to ask.” Lynn wrapped her arms around her tightly. “Now, do you feel better?”
“Yes, but still a little scared.”
“Things would be too boring if we didn’t have challenges. And I know a gorgeous woman with dogged determination.”
Chapter 50
October 2017 – NGA Headquarters, Springfield, Virginia
“Your mother was how old?” Dory rocked in her chair.
“She would have been seventy-seven next month.”
“I’m sorry, Ali. I never knew your mother. I’m twelve years younger than your mom, and I went into the military right after college. Lucky for you, I do know the agency historian. We’re working on a display to honor agency women for next year’s Family Day. No guarantees, but maybe he knows something.”
Ali grinned. “Thanks. That’d mean the world to me.”
“Dear. I hate to be macabre, but there’s a high pro
bability your father is deceased or retired and no longer living in the area.”
Ali slumped in the chair. “Yes, but I’ll keep digging and find as much as possible. I’m starting with my mother’s papers and personal items. If nothing else, I’d like to find a picture of him.”
“Sounds like a plan. My friend Sam started his career in NPIC’s library in 1968. He’s considered the foremost authority on imagery intelligence.” Dory picked up the phone and punched the speaker button.
“Hello, Dory.”
“How’s my favorite NGA local historian?” Dory said with glee.
He chuckled. “Ah, my favorite analyst turned manager, and the only one left that seems to have any common sense. What can I do for you, my dear? You’re not trying to get out of Family Day are you?”
“Absolutely, not.”
“Good because between you and me, we cover almost a century of knowledge. Now, how can I help you?”
“Nothing earth-shattering. Do I have to have a good reason to talk to an old friend?”
“No, except you’re always so busy. You usually make a lunch date when you want to have a friendly chit-chat, and your arrival and departure are timed to perfection. It’s ten fifteen in the morning. Something’s off.”
“Geez, got me on that one. Listen, Sam. I can’t give you any details, but I promised a friend to gather a bit of information. I know I can count on your discretion.”
“Of course. I’ll be happy to assist if it’s unclassified info and releasable to the public.”
“Did you know or ever hear of a Carol Clairmont who worked as a secretary in Building 213?”
“Yes. By the time I met her, she wasn’t a secretary. She had moved on to an experiment.” He laughed. “Well, that’s what some of the old geezers at the time called it. Director Lundahl started a research team of all women with the intent of eventually training them to be photo interpreters. Mrs. Clairmont held the title of research assistant and was assigned to the department following the development of Soviet missiles.”
“Holy cow.”
“Yes, indeed. She was highly regarded. I even saw her on a light table more than once. She was lucky to have been assigned to a team of men who weren’t chauvinists. I was going to start digging up official pictures next month for our women’s history display, but I could start sooner. I do believe we have a couple of Carol.”
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