Reunion: A Novel

by Lauraine Snelling

  Keira shrugged. There was no need to say the book should have been turned in sooner, Leah had already moaned about that more than once.

  Leah’s phone rang. “Well hi, Curtis, how soon will you be here?”

  Keira turned back to her list. Tell Marcus, she had written some time before. She’d have to tell her sons as well, but she wasn’t nearly as worried about their reaction. Now she was in another quandary. If she could talk with Helga first, she would have more information to give Marcus. Shame they weren’t coming to the reunion early so they could get all the secrets out of the way before everyone else arrived. Maybe she should just get it over with. Of course, that led to one more question. If Helga confirmed what they knew and added more, did they need to tell the rest of the family? If so, the reunion was the ideal place, but she hated to throw a pall over the party. Or… why was there always an or? Maybe it wouldn’t bother the others as much as it had bothered her. After all, to most of them it was just a story, a true family story, but they weren’t the baby.

  The longer she waited, the worse the anticipation felt. She hated to make her brother angry. Especially after all he was going through. It was one of those things on the list that she kept putting off: “Tell Marcus.”

  Wednesday evening, she had Marcus and Leah to her house for supper. Kirsten and Lindsey had pleaded to be released from their slave labor to go to a movie. All day she’d been going back and forth. Tell him. Don’t tell him. One by one, her excuses were taken away. A bit of a breeze kept the mosquito population in abeyance so they were enjoying the respite from their labors and a barbequed chicken supper.

  “Are you ready for dessert?” she asked.

  Marcus and Bjorn swapped looks. “When aren’t we ready for dessert? You didn’t make apple pie, did you?”

  “I did. I still had one in the freezer. Ice cream?” Tell him now! The voice sounded adamant. “I’ll be right back.” She and Leah carried the plates and things into the house. “How about you dish up the dessert and I’ll go get the birth certificate?”

  “Good idea.”

  Keira fetched the envelope with the two copies of her birth certificate and set up the tray. She carried it out while Leah held the door. Please, Lord, make this as easy as possible. She set the tray down and handed Marcus the envelope. “I wanted to wait until I’d talked with Aunt Helga but…”

  He took the envelope with a puzzled look and drew the papers out. The world seemed to stand still while he read it.

  The glare when he looked up made her take a step back. “Where did you find this?”

  “Behind that framed picture of you and me that always hung in the sewing room. The one beside the photo of Kenneth.”

  “Kenneth? You call our father Kenneth now?”

  “Well, no. I mean yes. I mean, he’s not really my father. Not my biological father anyway.”

  “Maybe not, but he raised you and loved you.”

  “I know it. And I adored him.” Just the thought of the man who held her on his lap and told her stories brought up tears. Sometimes she wondered if all her searching for information on the man who sired her was really being unfaithful to the man who always said she was his best girl. She’d reply that she was his only girl and they’d both laugh. So why then did he and her mother never tell her the real story behind her conception? Was it the same reason Keira did not tell Marcus right away? Because she didn’t want to add more to his hurt burden? She brought her mind back to the conversation. “What did you say?”

  “Is this what you’ve been researching so hard?”

  “Yes, I wanted to find out all I could, but all I know is that man’s name is Sam. I plan to ask Aunt Helga for more information.”

  “So Mother made the same mistake Kirsten did.”

  “I thought of that too. Do you think knowing this will help Kirsten or make her feel worse? She has always idolized her grandmother, ever since she was little. I told her. I thought it might help.” She watched her brother process the information. “Do you think we need to tell the others—at the reunion, I mean?”

  Marcus shook his head. “I just don’t know. I’m never in favor of keeping secrets but…”

  “But?”

  “How could you have kept this from me? Why?”

  “You had so much you were dealing with. To find out I’m not really a Sorenson on top of everything else…”

  He stared at his sister. “Whatever made you think you were no longer a member of the Sorenson family? I mean, I just don’t get it.”

  “All I could think was that I have been living a lie, all these years.”

  “But it isn’t your lie, it’s theirs.”

  “So who am I? Inside of me, I mean, what am I made of? From? Mother was always such a stickler for telling the truth. I feel like she let me down.”

  “What if, instead, you start counting up all that she gave you?”

  The urge to kick her brother in the shins made her foot twitch. How could he be so analytical instead of emotional? But now that she thought about it, and had wasted all those hours on a fool’s search, she would have to admit that Bjorn had been right all along. What difference did it make to her life right now?

  “Well, I sure hope he didn’t give me some rogue chromosome that is going to ruin my life at some point.”

  Marcus tried to keep from laughing, but when he looked at her disgruntled face again, a hoot slid by his restraint and burst out.

  The squeak of the gate caught their attention. “Curtis, you made it already!” Marcus took two strides and threw his arms around his eldest son, then turned to the slender woman at his side. She stepped into his embrace like she was his daughter, not his daughter-in-law.

  “Hi, Dad. We couldn’t wait to get here.”

  “I hope those are tears of joy.” Marcus looked from Gwen to Curtis, who shook his head.

  “It’s a long story.”

  “Well, come sit down. Have you eaten? You know we have all the time you need.”

  Keira hugged the two young people. “We’re sharing family secrets and do we ever have some doozies.”

  “As big as Kirsten being pregnant?” Curtis asked.

  Gwen turned her head at his comment. “We can talk about it later,” Keira said quickly. “You didn’t answer, have you eaten?”

  When the two shook their heads, Keira and Leah brought the supper back outside, where they served memories along with the food and only adjourned to the house when the mosquitoes arrived at dusk.

  “We need a full-time telephone answerer,” Leah complained after the umpteenth call.

  “At least they aren’t calling to cancel.” Bjorn settled back in his chair.

  “No, most to say they are bringing someone extra.” Leah made sure everyone had the beverage of their choice before sitting down. “Okay, why the sad faces when you arrived, Curt?”

  Curt glanced at his wife, who began. “We’ve been going through a series of tests and the doctors concluded that I’m diabetic and that’s why I have lost three babies. He said we had a choice, me or a baby. He suggested a hysterectomy to remove the possibility of another miscarriage.” Her voice broke and Curtis took her hand.

  “I want my wife to live, so… so that’s where we are. We hadn’t told you about the other two. This is so sad.” He paused and sniffed. “Perhaps I’ll have the surgery instead so she doesn’t have to deal with the anesthetic and such.”

  “When did you learn you were diabetic?” Leah asked.

  “About six months ago. I’ve been on insulin and pretty stable.”

  “Good.” Leah reached across the gap between their chairs and took Gwen’s hand. “At least there are a lot of good studies, better insulin and things now, and new products to make blood draws easier.”

  “Why don’t you tell us the big secret you mentioned?” Curt asked, finishing his pie.

  “I learned from my birth certificate that Kenneth was not my real dad.”

  “I wish you wouldn’t say it that way,” Ma
rcus said. “My dad was and is your real dad. That other man, whoever he is, was only your biological father.” He turned to his son. “That’s all we really know about him at this point. Bjorn and I say, let it drop, but perhaps Aunt Helga will fill in some blanks and your aunt here will be satisfied.”

  “Does Kirsten know this?”

  “I told her the other day. She accepted it much better than I did.”

  “That’s not saying a lot,” Bjorn added.

  “Thanks, dear, but you have to admit, I am finally letting up on it. That’s why I haven’t looked up any old records for over a week. Anyone needs to find anything and I can tell you where to search.”

  “So did you get your passport yet?” Marcus asked.

  “I applied but it hasn’t come yet.”

  “I figure any day.” Bjorn leaned back in his chair. “Sorry to hear your news, Curtis and Gwen. I know this must be extra hard on you.”

  She nodded. “I’ve always looked forward to carrying a baby, feeling it growing inside of me. It’s like that was what I was made for.” A tear hovered on her eyelashes. “But we’ll get through.”

  As they cleaned up the kitchen together sometime later, Bjorn took his wife’s hand. “See, that wasn’t nearly as bad as you thought it would be.”

  “I know. And much as I hate to admit that you were right, you were.”

  Bjorn squeezed her hand. “I promise not to say I told you so.”

  “Right.”

  When he didn’t let go of her hand right away, she looked up at him. “What?”

  “I’ve got something I’ve been needing to say.”

  “Okay.” Now what? Please don’t let it be a health issue.

  He hesitated again. “Now, please, don’t take this wrong.”

  Serious business. “Bjorn, you’re scaring me. What?”

  “About our trip to Norway.” The words picked up speed. “You know I love your family dearly, but I was hoping the two of us could take this trip with just us. You know, you and me. I know lots of people want a huge party for their twenty-fifth anniversary, but I’d really like the time with you.”

  “Oh. Well, why didn’t you say something earlier?” She stepped close to him and put her arms around his waist. “If you want just us to go, so be it. And thank you.”

  He tipped her chin up, kissed the tip of her nose and then her mouth. “Thank you.” They went arm in arm up the stairs, the warm glow lasting for some time.

  The books did not arrive the next morning, or in the afternoon, but many more of the relatives did. Some with RVs or tents camped at the home place. Others took over the bedrooms there and filled those at Bjorn and Keira’s too. Their two boys, Paul and Eric, didn’t arrive until Friday night, having waited for their cousin Thomas’s flight to arrive and driving a rental car up from Minneapolis together. They all stayed up late into the night talking. As she and Bjorn went to bed that night, Keira felt the contentment of having both her boys home with her. Even though she was sad that her daughter-in-law, Laurie, had been unable to come due to an emergency at work.

  “I was beginning to think I was going to have to mail them out to everyone,” Leah grumbled.

  “This is just the way Mother liked it.” Marcus turned to his sister on Saturday morning. “You’ve done well.”

  “No, we all did well. We made this reunion happen.” Keira and Marcus stood on the back porch where they could see the barn and all the outbuildings, the three camping trailers and the two RVs, a volleyball court set up, croquet on the front lawn, and groups of lawn chairs scattered around. They could hear the hum of women’s voices from within the house. The men were divided between the horseshoe pits and the three grills set up to help feed the seventy-five people gathered here. More were still coming who lived close enough to drive in for the day. Everyone always arrived with baskets, boxes, and coolers with more food. Running out of food was never a concern.

  “Did the books get here?”

  “We pick them up in an hour. Just be grateful. You’ll have them.”

  Leah joined them, locking her arms through theirs so they formed a chain. “But only after much heckling.”

  “All that matters is that they are here today. When are you going to give them out?” Keira asked.

  “I thought after dinner. We’re eating at one, by the way. Queen Helga has spoken.”

  “I have the list of all the bequeaths. I’ll do that after you hand out the books. You will sign each one, right?”

  “Of course. I think you should too.” She looked up at her husband. “How’s the ice cream coming?” Marcus had volunteered to oversee the ice cream machines, all now on electricity, no more hand cranking.

  “They’re all set up and running. It’s not like the old days, when Dad would break up the ice in a gunnysack, using the flat side of his ax. The guys would take turns cranking, and Dad would feed the rock salt and the ice into the tank. Oh, the stories they told around the ice cream churns.”

  “Hey, Dad, you’re on my team for horseshoes.” Thomas stopped beside them. “Always feels so good to come back here.”

  “When is it my turn?”

  “We play the winners of those up now. Most likely right after dinner.”

  When Helga had the honor of ringing the triangle to call everyone to dinner, she gave it an extra lick. “That’s for Dagmar. How she loved to ring this thing.” She stepped back from the porch edge. “You say the grace, Marcus.”

  Keira made sure she sat next to Helga at one of the many picnic tables. “Do you mind if I ask you some questions about Mother while we eat?”

  “Not at all. Ask away, I just don’t promise to answer them all.”

  “I have something I’d like you to read.” Keira handed her the birth certificate in an envelope. “We found this behind the picture of Marcus and me hanging in the sewing room.”

  Helga took it, settled her glasses squarely on her nose, and read. “Well, I’ll be a monkey’s uncle. I didn’t think anyone else would ever know.” She turned to Keira. “I never did understand why she didn’t tell you years ago.”

  “So you knew about me?”

  “Well, a lot of it I surmised by a few of the hints she would drop in her letters. You were a bit large for the age when they moved back here but no one ever said anything. At least not to my knowledge.”

  Keira gathered up every morsel of courage. “Did you know the name of the man?”

  “You mean the rotten son of a… excuse my French. He broke her heart and walked off without a care. I sent Kenneth to find her and bring her home. I didn’t expect him to marry her, but in hindsight, I wasn’t surprised. He’d had a crush on her for years.”

  “But did you ever hear his name?”

  “Why do you want to know?”

  “The main reason is to find out medical history, if I can. But I guess it has become a personal thing for me. So did you?”

  “I know she called him ‘honeybun,’ referred to him as HB in her letters. I thought I would gag. We never told Ma about him. Pa would have taken after him with the fully loaded shotgun, I’m afraid. Anyway, it made me wonder if perhaps HB were really his initials.”

  “Do you know what town he lived in?”

  “He was visiting relatives, I think.” She squinted, trying to remember. “I think they met someplace in St. Cloud. She was working at the drugstore there, you know. Had an apartment with two other girls. When she went to the big city, she was so glad to leave the farm behind. Come to think of it, I think she met him at some church event. She wrote to me once, ‘I am head over heels in love and I am sure he feels the same way.’ Giddy, she was.”

  “So she lived in St. Cloud?”

  “Yes, and after they were married, she and Kenneth lived there too. He got a job in the local lumberyard and then his pa wrote and asked him to come back and help him farm, so they did. You were two or three by then. You were just as cute as a bug’s ear. Big, beautiful blue eyes. Dagmar always made sure you had a bow in your hair.
”

  “So you don’t know his name, but you do know he was not from St. Cloud.”

  “Someplace in another state. I remember thinking he couldn’t get too far away to suit me. But no, I never knew his real name and I wasn’t about to call him honeybun.”

  “Could his name have been Sam?”

  “Could be. Why?”

  “Well, I found the name Sam on something and a picture of two couples where the man had been very carefully cut out.”

  Helga chuckled. “Sounds like Dagmar. Thrifty in all things. Get rid of the bad guy and save the rest.”

  “You wouldn’t have any idea where she might have hidden my adoption papers, would you?”

  “Did you look behind all the pictures? She was a great one for storing things ‘in a safe place’ as she called them, couldn’t remember where they were.” She chuckled. “Family trait, I think. Don’t give any of her books away without checking for money. She always liked to have a private stash at home.”

  “No, I didn’t think to do that with the books, but you can be certain I will.” Keira heaved a sigh and tipped her head back. “I think we’ve checked all the pictures.”

  Helga patted her hand. “It’s not important, you know, not in the long run. Your mother loved you with such fierceness that I sometimes wondered if she was afraid he might find her and learn he had a daughter.” She paused for a moment. “I think she was afraid he might try to take you away from her. I’m sure if he tried she’d have gone after him with the gun herself.”

  “But Kenneth did adopt me after they were married?”

  “I think so.” She thought back. “I’m sure he did.”

  “Well, we are getting closer. I still have more letters to go through.”

  Helga grinned, her smile so identical to the one Dagmar so often wore that Keira almost felt her mother sitting beside her. Other than that Helga carried a few of the pounds around her hips and middle and Dagmar was always on the whipcord side.

  “Can I join you?”

  They looked up to smile at Kirsten. “Of course. Sit down.”

  “I heard you talking about Grandma?”

  “True.”

  “I wanted to ask Grandma’s advice about what to do with this baby that I’m carrying. I had no idea she would tell me from her own experience.”