Julia laughed. “You see? The good old days weren’t always so good.”
Adrian dropped back down to his knees and read the titles aloud. “ ‘La Marseillaise,’ ‘I Didn’t Raise My Boy to Be a Soldier,’ ‘The Girl Wears a Red Cross on Her Sleeve,’ ‘When Johnnie Comes Marching Home.’ ”
“You interested in war stuff?”
“Hell yeah. Especially World War I.”
“Oh,” said Julia, “then you’ll definitely appreciate this.” She walked across the room and opened the heavy doors to a large armoire, where she began to hand him American flags folded into triangles, several of them encased in glass boxes. “Vietnam, Gulf War, Korea, World War II, and the rest of them,” she ran a finger over eight of them. “World War I. We sure took a hit with that one.”
Adrian touched each flag and said, in a low voice, “When they hand the mother the folded flag, they always say something like, ‘On behalf of the President of the United States and the people of a grateful nation . . .’ Oh, it kills me because I don’t think most people nowadays give those guys a second thought.”
“You come from a military family?”
“Nah,” Adrian replied. “My grandfather was a naval mechanic. Never went offshore, though. We used to love to watch war movies together. Pearl Harbor was the last one we saw together . . . What’s this?” He reached deeper into the cabinet, sliding out an old ceramic wash bowl. It was full of men’s watches.
“That’s everyone,” Julia said. “Not just the soldiers.”
“Holy crap,” he whispered. “This place is really something special.”
“You won’t believe how beautiful it will be here in the summer.”
Without taking his eyes off the watches he said, “It’s beautiful here right now.”
“Yes. It is beautiful here right now,” she echoed, unsure if there was a hidden meaning in that simple, indisputable truth. Even in the dimness of the pale spring light, it was indeed a stunning and mysterious place to be. She turned and looked up at his profile. He turned his head and looked her straight in the eye. She felt tiny, electric pinpricks, as if a school of fish were nibbling at the tips of her fingers, toes, inside her belly, and around her lips. He looked away, and the magic between them suddenly evaporated. All that was left was a sudden awkwardness. But it was done. Something inside her awoke, opened its eyes, stretched, and found itself cold and hungry.
On the empty porch, they ate the cold chicken they had picked up at a drive-through on the way back from the airport. They straddled the thick railing and looked out at the sea, which was all around them, choppy, gray, and irregular, slapping noisily onto the granite rocks below. As part of her house duties, Julia had brought her family’s share of table wine. She plucked one out of the case and opened it. They drank directly from the bottle, which they passed back and forth. “Griswolds have simple taste in wine, thank goodness, especially since we drink so much of it over the course of a summer,” Julia said, a little embarrassed by the quality. But Adrian said he wasn’t a big wine drinker anyway.
“I couldn’t tell the difference between a cab,” he held up the bottle and looked at the label. “And a taxi.”
She laughed. “That’s definitely a taxi.”
He ran his hand across the rail of the porch. “Julia, most people don’t have this. This is a fantasy. You know that, right? You have this mini-version of the Kennedys in Hyannis.”
“Really mini,” she said, pinching her fingers together and taking the bottle from him with the other. “You won’t see any polo trophies on our mantel.”
“Well, I love it here,” he said. “Even without the polo trophies.”
“Maybe you’ll come back soon,” she dared, pretending to be fascinated by a passing boat but blushing violently. She thought, whoa. That was bold.
“I bet you say that to all the boys.”
She laughed nervously. “Back in the day I did.”
“And what ‘boys’ have there been in your life, Julia? What was going on before David sucked up six years of your life?”
There had been lots of boys, especially in summer. In the Thimbles, it was easy to fall into an outdoor activity with a stranger. She had dated the full range of personalities, from the son of a Wesleyan University provost to a cute loser who was in jail for holding up a deli. Several of her cousins had big, aching love stories attached to the Thimbles, but not Julia. Julia easily found plenty of guys to like, but rarely love. She had grown to care for a few guys, but not cripplingly so, and as much as she liked the idea of having great loves tucked away in her past, she didn’t. She just had a handful of memories of heartache for people who wouldn’t have been right for her in the end. And so far, it seemed, no one was ever right for her, not even David.
After lunch, Julia gave Adrian a tour of the upstairs, which was mostly unremarkable, rooms upon rooms partitioned into more rooms, decorated with cheap beach-motif bedspreads and knick-knacks from the dollar store. “As the family got bigger, we had to chop it up,” she told him. “Some of the rooms don’t even have a window. We’re probably in violation of about eleven fire codes.” She gave his arm a quick squeeze. “Why don’t you help me decide where to put everyone this summer?”
They chose the two prettiest guest rooms for Holly and Taina; rooms with creaky, wide-plank floorboards and exposed beams, wicker furniture, lace curtains and Amish quilts, and double tub fixtures that offered a choice of fresh or saltwater. They chose smaller, less fussy rooms for Ray and Adrian. Last, she took him up to the master bedroom, with its views of the water on three sides. Julia opened a small door with an iron spiral staircase at the center. “The cherry on top is definitely the cupola,” she said, but Adrian refused to follow her, citing claustrophobia. He scanned the room that Julia said would be her inner sanctum during the gathering. The bed was a king and he noted that this room had the only air-conditioning unit in the house. There was also the only piece of modern art in the house, a large canvas of watery blues that evoked a morning horizon. His eye was drawn to the small collection of nautical instruments on the mantel above the fireplace, just below the modern painting. He noticed a beautiful old barometer. The tip of the ornate needle was thin as the proboscis of an insect, and it pulsed ever so delicately, over the word “change.”
David was standing by the mailbox at his parents’ house. To Julia, the bloating around his face and neck seemed to stand out. His friend was just pulling out of the driveway, and she noticed that there was yet another car in the driveway. Once she parked, Adrian practically jumped out of the car. “Flaco!” he shouted and stepped forward to embrace David. The mystery car turned out to belong to Doug, Taina’s soon-to-be-ex-husband. He stepped out of the shadows and Adrian shook his hand and then slapped his back with the other.
“Honey!” David bellowed at Julia. She pulled her head back and made a face at him. He had never called her “honey,” even when they were dating. He made a big show of hugging her. It was obvious to Julia that David was feeling territorial because she had taken Adrian to Griswold Island.
Doug said, “I roused his sorry ass.”
Inside, there were Styrofoam cups of coffee that Doug had brought. The guys dove into the couch and David unmuted the baseball game they had been watching. The room filled with the sound of a crowd cheering and Julia said her good-byes.
“Hey, Julia, thanks for the ride,” Adrian said, and thumped his heart twice with his fist.
Chapter 22
David
Doug is the one who began to crack Adrian. Doug and I had been talking about my origins long before Adrian arrived. I had told him everything I could remember and Doug brought a letter he had received two weeks before, something he had pursued all on his own, because even professional locators wouldn’t take our case. There was nothing to start with. He had a letter addressed to Taina from the post-adoption services unit that had arranged her adoption by the Brightons: “After reviewing your file, it appears that you were abandoned and that the
re is no other information regarding your birth family. Unfortunately, this means that there isn’t enough information for us to begin an assisted search. The record states that you were found without any identifying information.”
“No kidding,” Adrian said, turning over the letter to see if there was anything on the back.
Doug said, “The guy who owned the For Tuna has been dead for ten years, so he’s no help. A professional locator suggested I look into the more public venues like mutual consent reunion registries, websites, and DNA banks.”
Adrian pressed his hands together and squinted. “What are the chances that our bio relatives are looking for us, eh? Or that they even know what the hell DNA is?”
Doug shrugged. “You never know. Traditional venues aren’t going to help you, we’ve established that,” he said, looking at Adrian. “All you have are the bits that David is remembering. I would say the next step is to get DNA siblingship tests. Just to figure out what your relationship is to each other.”
“Not me,” said Adrian. “Whatever you two find out you keep to yourselves. I don’t want any part of it.”
Doug sat back. “Too bad because there is one very obvious way of blowing the whole thing open.”
Adrian blinked, very slowly, and looked up. “My private life is private, if that’s what you mean.”
“Any one of those Spanish magazines would love to publish your story. They love you already, and they have no idea that you’re one of the ‘starfish children from Mayagüez.’ Your sales would skyrocket.”
“I repeat. My life is not for sale. Punto final.”
Doug looked at me. “You don’t need Adrian. It was an international news story.”
I sighed. “I won’t do it unless we all agree.”
“Good. Let’s drop it then,” Adrian said as he glanced up at the muted TV. “Where’s the remote?” he said, as he patted the cushions of the sofa.
I turned to Doug. “Never mind that I have fucking brain cancer. Or that it’s my last, dying wish.”
Adrian threw his arms up. “Ave Maria,” he said, which is what Puerto Ricans say when they think you’re being unreasonable.
“It’s not like I’m asking for bone marrow, Adrian,” I said, “All I’m asking you to do is to scrape the inside of your cheek with a Q-tip for Christ’s sake.”
Adrian didn’t say anything for a moment, but I could see that he was working up to it. He found an empty can of soda on the floor under the sofa and squeezed and released it, so it made that check, check sound. Then he put down the can and reached for a framed photograph of the five of us, as kids, that was sitting on an end table. He held it up and said, “You know why it’s important that we not look into the question of siblingship?”
“Ray?” Doug and I said at the same time.
“There’s more to it than Ray getting a little ‘thirsty’ when he’s upset,” Adrian said, narrowing his eyes. “It’s because choosing to be a family is hard work. If we’re not related, then each one of us will feel less responsible for each other.” He put the photograph down and looked pointedly at me. “David, because of your situation, you—more than anyone—need the rest of us,” he said as he clapped a hand over his heart, “to believe that you’re our brother.”
Doug cocked his head. “Are you suggesting that everyone will just go their separate ways if the group doesn’t have common DNA? Or that no one will be attuned to David’s health needs?”
“Not right away, but eventually, yes. It takes time and money and energy to maintain our uncertain family identity. One day Erick’s going to say, ‘Holly. How come we gotta drag our kids up to Connecticut? You’re not even related to these people. For the same money we could go on a cruise.’ And one day that’s going to make sense to Holly. It’s hard enough to split yourself between ‘his side’ and ‘her side.’ We all know that ‘family time’ is a huge imposition and a general pain in the ass. Do you really want to let us off the hook by getting our genes tested? Who needs us to maintain the sibling illusion more than you do, David?” Adrian was leaning forward and his eyes were moist. He wasn’t just being stubborn. I could see that this was a big deal to him.
“But it’s our life story, not our DNA, that’s our blueprint,” I insisted. “And that part is undeniably shared.”
Adrian shrugged. “That will erode,” he said, “as the years go by.”
“This is about your mom, isn’t it?” I dared.
He lowered his head. “Adopting me was Dad’s idea,” he began. “And so when my parents divorced, my mom disappeared out of my life. She found a husband and had children of her own. Her bond with me grew weaker and weaker. When I was thirteen, two years after she left, I came down with pneumonia and was hospitalized. I kept expecting to see her, but she never came. Sure, she called and she talked to me every day but she didn’t take the extra step to get on a plane and be at my side. Now, I hear from her once a year, at Christmas. All her time is for her ‘real’ kids.” His voice sounded strangely small. I could see that he was in pain. I had always had a sense that he had contemplated, more than any of us, the reasons and the consequences of our abandonment. He was obviously carrying the burden of a second injury just like Ray, which explained his sympathy and concern for Ray. I could see how just talking about it was affecting him physically—the struggle underneath the shoulders, the muscles accommodating some sharp hurt within. “It’s time to show you something,” he said suddenly, looking at Doug. He lifted his shirt and pointed to a series of small, round scars on his belly and his back. “I had these scars already, when they found us.”
Doug leaned in to get a closer look. Adrian twisted around to show him more of the small circles. When Doug looked up, he looked stunned. “Who knows about this?”
“Only David and my parents. Girlfriends notice them of course, so I keep a couple of stories in my back pocket. My favorite one involves bow hunting,” he said with a wry smile. “But you’re a cop, you know what these are.”
“They’re cigarette burns,” Doug said.
“That’s right,” he said. Then he pulled his shirt down and put his jacket back on. He sat back and folded his arms so the leather of his jacket creaked. He leaned over so one shoulder was touching Doug’s, and he spoke while staring straight ahead. “To me, those scars scream stay the fuck away.” Then turning to me: “And you know what, guys? I think I’m gonna do just that.” He parked his socked feet up on the coffee table, grabbed the TV remote, and ended the conversation by filling the room with the sound of the latest Coke commercial.
Chapter 23
Three weeks before the trip to Connecticut, Doug was waiting for Taina in their living room when she got home from work. “Don’t worry, I’m not staying long,” he said, holding up a hand. He dropped a manila envelope on the coffee table.
“What’s this?” Taina asked. She still couldn’t get used to seeing him looking so physically fit. Gone was the slight paunch resulting from too many rich lunches during his stockbroker days. He had lost weight and had a harder, more muscular look, which instantly triggered a flash of jealousy. Who was he trying to impress, anyway?
“Here are the results of a full siblingship test, Taina. Both your maternal and paternal DNA against David and Adrian. I lifted their coffee cups when I was over there. Just to answer the question for you.”
Taina stared down at the papers, unblinking.
“Since there’s no parental DNA to compare it to,” he began, “It’s not a perfect test. Even full siblings can have few or no genes in common. Anything over ten percent indicates a strong probability of some common genes,” he said, “but neither of these scores are even close. It’s all in the report.” He snapped a finger against the envelope. “Your infatuation with Adrian isn’t quite as incestuous as you might think,” he said, his voice dripping with bitterness. “And you’re not biologically related to David either; less than one percent chance. It’s up to you what to do with that bit of information, babe. I’ve been talking to Davi
d about it over the last few months, by the way. He’s given me the green light to help him find his origins. I’m not telling anyone but you about this test, and I prefer you not tell Adrian or David that I did this covertly. They should resolve the question as a group. A family, I mean.”
Taina was mute. She couldn’t even summon the word “good-bye” as he pulled the door closed behind him. When he was gone, she took a cab to Central Park. She sat on a bench and watched the dog walkers and the children, the working people and the tourists. She sat like that, until nightfall, then she went to a movie theater that played old movies at all hours. She knew that there was no way she was going to get to sleep for a long time. Days, perhaps. And if she dared sleep, behind her eyelids crouched a girl who screamed and covered her eyes but refused to run from the smoke that was rising up from the floor to engulf her.
Part II
Chapter 24
August
On the very first night at Griswold Island, Raymond grilled skirt steaks rubbed with sea salt. He manned the grill, with everyone else standing around watching, drinking, laughing. He filled the Griswolds’ chipped cider pitchers with sangria. A piñata served as the table centerpiece, and after dinner he strung it up to a beam in the ceiling of the porch and handed Adrian a red-and-white bandana, which Adrian tied around Julia’s head to cover her eyes. To Julia, the sounds of their voices became louder as Adrian spun her around. She felt her way around the porch, fingers gripping the edges of windows, jumping when her shoulders were tickled by the petals of a hanging petunia. She swung the stick around like a blind woman, and tapped her way across the porch. They laughed when she tripped a little and she could hear them moving around her. Someone said, “Whoa, watch that stick,” and someone else shouted for her to turn around, turn left, no, the other way, and suddenly she was inside a pair of arms that were guiding her. She knew by the scent that it was David, even as he led her back to the edge of the porch, where she lifted the bandana and handed him the stick. They each took turns, and Julia thought that Taina drew out the task of blindfolding Adrian for a little longer than what was necessary. Finally, they broke it open and the treats rained down and they all dove on the ground, laughing and shoving each other and arguing over the biggest prizes, which were all sorts of unusual candies, popcorn balls, and gag gifts that Raymond had brought with him from Arizona.
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