The Soul Believes It

by Julie Allan

  When your parents died, not only was I the next of kin and guardian for you, it fell to me to take care of all your parent’s worldly goods. Your mother had cut off all contact with her family and my few attempts to reach out to them went poorly, including a certified letter refused.

  Lizzie had to put the letter down again. The anger she felt towards family members she didn’t know seemed irrational. She thought about the few pictures that existed from her parents’ wedding, only her father’s side was present. What was more disconcerting was the anger she felt towards her mother. Not for having secrets, but for the secrets shattering the image. In her mind, Lizzie saw a Junior League Southern lady who painted beautiful pictures. The woman in high heels and pearls, donning an apron to help her bake cookies. Her mother had a past that came before her and before her daddy. It was questionable and dark, and Lizzie didn’t know how that was going to change her version of her mother. Rarely did anyone speak ill of the dead and in the case of Lizzie’s parents, they had always been placed high on a pedestal. She took a few breaths to calm herself then picked up the letter once more.

  In your mother’s papers, I found a birth certificate for a baby girl, who was not you. The father was not listed, only your mother’s maiden name. Also among her papers was a document indicating she had signed away her parental rights to an adoption agency. I wrote to them when you were about seven years old. They did write back, but I was informed the records were sealed. I did write a letter with our contact information and had the agency add it to the file, in case the child ever sought her birth mother. I did try to research what I could about your mother and her family. They were not at your parent’s wedding, and she never talked about them. I put together this pouch of what I did find, including a few pictures from your mother’s effects. Once I hit some dead ends, I put it away and only rediscovered the pouch when I started tackling the mountains of memorabilia I have collected. I haven’t been able to locate the letter from the adoption agency. I have wanted to sit down and share all this with you. I have hesitated because right now, Bennett is waging war against his cancer. Child, I just cannot bring myself to add anything else to your plate. Ben is making a house call this afternoon, as I wanted to update some things in my will for Dot and Sawyer’s benefit. I have decided to ask him to keep this pouch in safe keeping for the time being. Hopefully, I will share this with you this summer. If you are reading this, then I have gone on to meet my maker, and really at my age, that is a joyous thing. Ben knows nothing of the contents of the pouch, and I have instructed him to give it to you, only if you come asking information about your mother or her family. No point in upsetting you about your mother when there are no answers to give to the many questions I know you’ll have. Try not to jump to conclusions your mother may have a past we know nothing about, but I can assure you she was a marvelous woman who loved my brother and you with all she had to give. She was kind and faithful. No matter what you find out, never forget that.

  Love,

  Aunt Dorothy

  Lizzie held the letter to her heart as tears trickled down her cheeks. She could almost feel Aunt Dorothy reach out to wipe them away. The letter was too much to process, so she returned the pouch to the desk drawer. She needed some time before she could go through it.

  Lizzie’s phone binged, indicating an incoming text message. Bennett was on his way home for lunch. Lizzie made a beeline for the kitchen. She took some of the leftover pork from the fridge and shredded it. She added it to a heating sauté pan with some barbeque sauce. She shredded some cabbage, carrots, onions and peppers and tossed with a little dressing. By the time, Bennett arrived she was buttering the buns for a quick toast in the oven.

  Bennett washed his hands and poured himself a glass of milk. “What would you like to drink?”

  Lizzie turned to the stove. “I would love a glass of seltzer water.”

  Lizzie assembled the sandwich for Bennett and sat it before him. She sat down at the table with him and took a sip of the seltzer. The bubbles fizzing up towards her nose.

  Bennett picked up the sandwich, the sauce running out and down the sides of his hands. “Aren’t you eating?”

  “I had a very late breakfast, so I’m not hungry yet.” Lizzie smiled as she watched Bennett lick the sides of hands. She still got a thrill when her loved ones enjoyed her cooking.

  Bennett practically inhaled the last few bites of his sandwich. “Are you feeling okay? You were sleeping so soundly this morning, I don’t think you were even aware when I kissed you goodbye.”

  “No, I slept right through it . . . sorry. I was just tired, but I feel fine.” Lizzie could tell by the look on Bennett’s face he didn’t quite believe it, but she also knew he wouldn’t press her. After twenty-five years of marriage, she knew he would wait her out, at least for a while.

  After Bennett headed back to work, restlessness set in. She still wasn’t ready to look in the pouch. Lizzie looked around the house. One of the pleasant things about being an empty nester and no longer part of the workforce was that she always seemed to be on top of the housework and there wasn’t anything to do. Well, at least anything she had to do or wanted to do.

  Lizzie stepped out onto the back porch. The breeze gently moved the limbs of the trees and the Spanish moss that draped from them. Aunt Dorothy had always kept full and immaculate perennial beds around the yard and Lizzie had taken over their care. While the daffodils and tulips had been up for a few weeks, many of the other perennials were just tiny shoots pushing up from the soil. It was time to mulch.

  An hour later Lizzie returned with twenty bags of mulch from the garden center. She found her garden gloves and tools in the garage and set to work moving the bags to the beds in the front, sides, and back of the house. Then starting in the front, she began the work of dumping and spreading. There was something rejuvenating about connecting with the earth. The physical labor drained Lizzie’s energy and her anxiety.

  Five hours later when Bennett returned, Lizzie was finishing up the last bed in the back yard. “Wow sweetheart, you did all the beds in one afternoon?”

  Lizzie pushed back from the bed and lay back on the grass. “Yes, I did . . . now I can’t move.”

  Bennett hauled her up. “Sounds like an Epsom salts bath with a glass of wine might be in order.”

  Lizzie leaned against Bennett, her muscles already beginning to seize up. “If you can get me up the stairs.”

  Bennett laughed and swung Lizzie up into his arms. “I definitely can manage that.”

  Bennett started walking towards the house. “Wait, the tools . . .”

  Bennett kept moving. “I’ll come back and put them away after I get you in the tub. If you’re lucky, I’ll take care of dinner too.”

  [GLYPH]

  Lizzie walked gingerly into the nail salon. M.A. was already picking out her color. “What happened to you?”

  Lizzie grimaced. “I was a little overzealous with the yard work.”

  Lizzie always wore the same color, a hot pink, so she grabbed it off the shelf to hand to her pedicurist. She sat back in the massage chair with a groan and started the massage cycle.

  She and M.A. had a standing date each week, now that M.A. had retired from nursing. Sometimes they met for lunch or shopping. Today they had decided on pedicures to be followed by pastries at the French Café. On the drive to meet M.A., Lizzie had decided she was going to confide in her about the letters, but she did not want to do it where the pedicurists could overhear.

  Once their feet were flip flop ready, they headed over to the French Café and indulged in some chocolate and hazelnut crepes and café au laits. The café was fairly crowded, so again, Lizzie waited. She listened while M.A. shared the latest about her three grandchildren. Lizzie, in turn, told M.A. all about Bennett’s surprise date. “Isn’t that the fun part of having an empty nest? Jim and I felt like newlyweds when Rebecca finally went off to college.”

  “It has been fun. I was worried at first; so many people talk
about how after the kids leave they feel like they’re living with a stranger.”

  “That would never happen with you and Bennett; you two have always made each other a priority.” M.A. took her last bite and sat back. “Oh, that was sooo good!”

  Lizzie nodded. “Hey, do you have time to come back to the house. There is something I want to show you.”

  “Sure, I’ll meet you there.” M.A. dug in her purse for her car keys.

  Back at the house, Lizzie led M.A. into the office. She got out the two letters and the pouch from the drawer. She handed the letter from the adoption agency to her first. “You better sit down before you start reading.”

  M.A. sat in one of the chairs by the window, and Lizzie sat down in the other. M.A. gasped and looked up at Lizzie as she read the letter. “Oh, my!” M.A. handed the letter back to Lizzie.

  “There’s more.” Lizzie handed her the letter Aunt Dorothy had written.

  M.A. placed a hand over her mouth as she read. Her eyes widened and her eyebrows raised. As she finished reading, she exhaled deeply, again handing the letter back to Lizzie. “I’m not sure I dare ask what you found in the pouch.”

  Lizzie clutched the pouch in her lap. “That’s the thing. I’ve been too scared to open it by myself. I was hoping you would sit with me and we could do it together.”

  M.A. placed her hand over her heart. “Of course I will! Are you sure you wouldn’t rather do this with Bennett?”

  “No . . . I know this is going to sound funny, but this seems like such a personal secret . . . I mean for my mother. I want to do this with another woman. Once I have all the facts, then, of course, I will tell Bennett all about this.”

  M.A. nodded. “That makes sense to me.”

  The two sat for a few moments, hesitant to start. M.A. spoke first. “So, what are we waiting for?”

  Lizzie shrugged her shoulders. She walked over to the desk and cleared away a few papers she had left out. Carefully she untied the pouch and slid the contents out and onto the desktop.

  There was a mix of documents, handwritten notes, and photographs. Lizzie picked up a birth certificate for her mother and then one for the unknown sister. Some of the handwritten papers were in Aunt Dorothy’s hand. On one she found a list of contacts Aunt Dorothy had used to trace the child. When she flipped it over, there were a few random thoughts ending in question marks. On another, she found notes on her mother’s kin from the Beaufort area, mainly names, how they were related, and an address for her mother’s parents. Grandparents she had never met, and they had been a little over an hour away down the coast. There was also her mother’s high school diploma and a list of her mother’s artwork that had been sold with the title of each piece and its sale price.

  Lizzie picked up two photos of a young girl who Lizzie almost mistook for herself. She did not recognize the backgrounds, and the clothes were from an earlier era. Lizzie flipped over one and found her mother’s name on the back.

  Lizzie handed them to M.A. “Wow, you definitely favor your mother.”

  “It’s a little eerie. I thought I knew her, or of her. Now I have no idea who she really was. It kind of makes me feel like I don’t know a whole part of myself.” Lizzie carefully organized the contents of the pouch.

  M.A. hugged her. “You are still you. But now you can really find out about your mother and her people.”

  Lizzie sighed. “What if I don’t like what I find out?”

  “Will it really change anything?”

  “I suppose not really. It might change the way I see my mother.” Lizzie began to put the items back into the pouch.

  “True, but children sometimes forget their parents are human just like they are. I know my girls don’t really understand I had a whole life on this planet before they came along.”

  Lizzie pulled out the list of contacts again. “So true, I guess this would be a good place to start.”

  M.A. had promised to go with Lizzie down the Beaufort County to see what kinds of records they might find. They told Bennett and Jim that they were going down to shop the outlets in nearby Hilton Head and have some girl time. Lizzie booked a two-bedroom cottage at a bed and breakfast in the heart of Beaufort’s historic district and packed a small suitcase. They were going to stay for three nights to give themselves time to research and relax.

  The nice thing about being retired was they could travel in the middle of the week. M.A. picked Lizzie up at nine-thirty so they could miss the bulk of the morning traffic around Charleston. They took the Ravenel Bridge from Mount Pleasant, crossed Charleston and the Ashley River onto Highway 17 South. Once past the suburban sprawl west of the Ashley, the scenery became rural. Lizzie enjoyed the vistas of marsh grass and woods as they sped along towards Beaufort County. Eventually, they turned onto Highway 21 and made their way to the heart of Beaufort.

  Beaufort, the second oldest city in South Carolina, was charming with its old homes, much like Charleston but more like a sweet village. Lizzie had passed through a few times on her way to Fripp Island but had never taken the time to visit. She hoped not only to find answers to some of her questions she was looking forward to learning more about this gem by the sea.

  M.A. pulled up to the bed and breakfast on Port Republic Street. It was a charming pink house with small white cottages behind and next to it. Once they were checked in, they settled into their cottage and planned their strategy.

  M.A. studied the map of the historic district and the map of the larger area. “I say we walk around a bit and get some lunch. Then we can head over to the County offices and see if we can look up records on your grandparents.”

  Lizzie stood up and stretched. “Good idea.”

  They headed out and walked toward the waterfront, finally choosing a bistro with water views. Lizzie ordered a bowl of French onion soup and M.A. chose a Cobb salad.

  M.A. set her fork down. “What do you hope we’ll find today?”

  Lizzie looked up from the spoonful she was softly blowing. “I’m pretty sure my grandparents will have passed away already, but maybe there will be an aunt or uncle or cousin I can find who can tell us about my mama.”

  M.A. nodded as she chewed. Lizzie smiled across the table at her. How lucky am I to have such a good friend to do this with me? Lizzie gave up using her spoon to get at the marvelous cheese in her bowl and reached in her fingers and wrapped the cheese around her spoon so she could eat it. it was the simple things in life that gave the most pleasure.

  After lunch, they walked back to the inn to retrieve the car. The county office of records was not in walking distance. Two hours later they had obtained death certificates for Lizzie’s grandparents and had learned that many records were now available on-line. They thanked the clerk and headed out.

  Chapter Three

  M.A. drove them back towards the inn. “I think we should take the clerk’s advice and stop at the library. It’s not far from the inn.”

  Lizzie looked at her watch. “It’s three o’clock now . . . I agree, if we get a bit more information, tomorrow we might be able to go see the house my mama grew up in and visit my grandparent’s grave.”

  M.A. pulled into the library parking lot, and they went in. The computer and reference center was easy to spot, and they settled in at side by side computer stations. Lizzie pulled out the website the clerk had given them and entered it into her computer before passing it to M.A. She loved the smell of a library, a pleasant perfume of time-worn pages and a mild disinfectant.

  “I’ll see if I can locate any information about family members. Why don’t you see if you can find out directions to the house my grandparents lived in?”

  M.A. nodded, “I’m on it, boss.”

  Lizzie’s eyes burned and the screen blurred before her. They had been at it for over an hour. She closed her eyes, squeezing them tight. Lizzie rolled her shoulders back, stretched her arms over head and sighed. “I can’t take anymore; this is so tedious.”

  M.A. yawned, “I don’t know how people
stare at screens all day, I swear my neck muscles are going to spasm.”

  Lizzie looked at the notes she had gathered. “At least with the help of the research librarian we have an address and a cemetery to find. I’m glad I got to read their obituaries. They gave us a lead on a great aunt.”

  “Yes, it will be interesting to drive out to Lady’s Island tomorrow and find the house. Okay, chick, this old bird wants to have a cocktail or two.” M.A. returned her computer to the home screen and stood up.

  Lizzie stuffed the papers back into her bag. “A bourbon and ginger is calling my name.”

  Thirty minutes later, freshened with lipstick and a change of clothes they headed for the bar. The concierge at the inn had recommended a place a few blocks away that had an old gentleman’s club vibe to it. They sank into well-worn leather club chairs and took in the dark wood paneled walls. The light was dim with small shaded sconces that cast warm puddles of light down to the floor. The waiter brought them their drinks and Lizzie took a long sip.

  M.A. stirred the little straw around in her glass. “The cemetery is a few blocks away. We should walk over there in the morning after breakfast.”

  “The Parish Church of St. Helena, it’s a historic landmark. I wonder if the church will have any records.” Lizzie sat her glass down on the side table.

  “It won’t hurt to ask.”

  After a second drink, they moved on to the restaurant. They chose a place known for its seafood and indulged in shrimp and grits followed by pots de crème for dessert. The mild spring night turned chilly by the time they headed back to the inn. Once in their pajamas and curled up on the sofa in the cottage living room, they found a good movie on the complimentary HBO and just enjoyed time together. The friendship they shared started in childhood and had endured for decades. At some point, it crossed a line from friendship to soul sisters. Besides Bennett and Aunt Dorothy, M.A. had seen the best and the worst of her and loved her as she was.