Hope House

by Tracy L Carbone

  “To Port au Prince. I’m going to get that passport if I have to leap over the counter and punch someone.”

  She furrowed her brow. That was not Dr. Tad talk. She reached up and felt his forehead. “You are hot. Feverish. You should go to bed, and we wait until Monday. You can go then.”

  “I’m going now.” His eyes seemed so far away even though he was right there. Like his mind was somewhere far off.

  “You stay,” she said. “You need rest and maybe a different medicine. Let me see your hand. I will clean it out again.”

  “No!” He pulled it back. “No, It’s fine. All I care about is getting you out of here safe, Martine. Getting us out. I have to go.”

  He kissed her cheek and went back out the gate to his car. “I’ll be back by nightfall,” he called to her.

  As the gate opened to let him out, Boris walked in and shut the gate behind him. “Martine,” he said as he walked toward her.

  She put her hand up to shield her eyes from the sun. She had wanted to speak to him since Mr. Puglisi said he had asked about her.

  “Hello, Boris.”

  He smiled. Big healthy teeth. He was a very tall man who blocked the sun. A large tree with a deep voice. “It is you. I thought so.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Didn’t Maman ever tell you about your brother Boris, who went to harvest sugar cane in the Dominican Republic?”

  Her face dropped. She remembered older siblings but once they left the house, Maman would not speak of them again because it made her too sad.

  “She told me I had older brothers who went to break their backs in the sun and I could not ask about them. It was Papa’s fault she said, because he ate up all the food and you had to go somewhere else to make some money.”

  “Did she say the same when she sent you off to work?”

  Martine shook her head. “She had another brother after me and he died from hunger. Papa was away so she said it was my fault. She sent me away before I ate up all the food and everyone starved.”

  “Sounds like the same crazy mother I knew.” He touched her face with a hand that was as big as a bowl. “Our mother thinks only of herself and likes to blame others for her mistakes. She had too many children and did not use her brain—” he tapped his head, “to stop. Maybe if she kept her legs crossed, our baby brother would not have been born to die.”

  “Boris, that is a terrible thing to say!”

  “No, sister, it is the truth. She has baby after baby then sends them off to live with other people. She is just a dog who cannot nurse her puppies and keeps having more litters all the time.”

  It was disrespectful to speak of their mother that way, but he told the truth.

  “You deserved a better life, Martine. I did too. Maman was no good for us. Did you have a nice life?”

  “Better than if I stayed home, I guess. And now I have all this.” She swung her arm around Maison D’Espoir.

  He laughed deep like a waterfall. “All this. You are paid to be like our mother, no? Having all these white puppies?”

  She wanted to protest but could not. It was not so different what she did. But her mother bred for pleasure and Martine bred to have nice things and a roof over her head. She had these “white puppies” so she could watch television and sleep on a mattress.

  “Are you happy here? Is Doctor Tad nice to you and the others?”

  “He is very nice.” She looked around but no one watched. “He loves me. He is going to marry me and take me away.”

  “Men say lots of things to get inside a woman.”

  Boris was crude but only because he cared about her. “He has never been inside me. We are all virgins, remember?” She leaned closer and spoke quietly. “He went to Port au Prince because he is getting a passport for me and he is in a hurry. As soon as it comes, we are running away and everyone will be free. You can take any supplies you want. I am not supposed to tell but you are family.” Her heart filled when she said that. That word had been lost to her for so long. “I will tell you when we go and you can take the TVs and sell them.”

  “He really is taking you away? Closing down Maison D’Espoir? Mr. Puglisi does not seem the kind of man to walk away from such a money fountain.”

  “Mr. Puglisi does not know. No one does. Only Doctor Tad and me—and now you. Mr. Puglisi is not expected here, and we hope to leave before he comes again.”

  “I left you alone before, Martine. I was not there to take care of you. I am sorry. That will not happen again. If Mr. Puglisi shows his lizard face here before you go, I will kill him!”

  Martine felt guilty for smiling but did so anyway. It felt good to have a big, strong brother so near and so protective.

  9.

  Home of Tommy Carpenter, Miami, late evening

  “Tommy, it’s your ex again,” Gloria heard on the other end of the phone. She had never met the new Mrs. Carpenter but knew she’d hate her. Gloria looked at the pad in front of her. Kurt and she had written a script of misinformation to give Tommy.

  “Hello?”

  “Hi,” Gloria said. She managed to buy a charger at a store and charge her phone briefly at the airport. Only two bars but that was enough. “Just wanted to let you know I’m home. Back in Bradfield.”

  A huge sigh on Tommy’s end confirmed how important it was that she be far away from Miami and the truth.

  “Glad to hear it.”

  “I’m sorry I got so upset. You know how I get. It was all a little ridiculous wasn’t it? The way I acted?” She rolled her eyes to Kurt as she spoke.

  “A little. I was worried when you called in the middle of the night and hung up abruptly.”

  “My cell phone ran out.”

  “So how’d that PI work out? Did he help you?”

  She smirked as she answered. “Yeah that PI was great. Really drilled the truth into me.”

  She heard his wife in the background tell him it was time to wrap it up.

  “Well, gotta go. Take care, huh?” he said.

  “Sure. You too.”

  She hung up.

  “Think he bought it?” Kurt asked.

  “Of course. It helped that you called him two hours ago and told him I was on a plane home. Of course, you didn’t add that you were in the seat beside me.” She laughed. “Creep.”

  “Yeah, Tommy was damn happy about that. Didn’t flinch when I told him I wanted double the agreed amount for all my extra time I put in with you.”

  “Should have asked for triple.”

  “I’ll take double pay and you, thank you very much.”

  She jabbed him in the arm. “Come on, let’s rent a car and go see the Murrays.”

  He leaned over and kissed her. Long and deep. Then he stopped, leaving her breathless. What a tease.

  “Maybe we can pick this up where we left off—after we see the Murrays?”

  She laughed. “I think that can be arranged.”

  10.

  Portland, Maine, evening

  Gloria rang the doorbell at the huge brick Tudor on the hill overlooking the ocean. It was a gorgeous house with a breathtaking view, even at night. Baby Murray, whatever they had named her, had gotten a good home.

  A woman in her late forties with short blond hair and rosy cheeks answered. “Hello. Come on in.”

  She ushered them into the huge entranceway and had their coats off and in the closet before they could say hello back. They followed her into a great room.

  “Mrs. Murray, thank you so much for meeting us on such short notice.”

  “Oh, call me Laura. It’s no bother. My husband is always at work and I love company. Can I get you a drink?”

  “I’m fine,” Gloria assured her.

  “Me too,” Kurt added.

  Laura Murray sipped a cup of tea. “So you’re doing a book about adopted children?”

  Gloria felt guilty lying to this pleasant stranger, but it was the only easy way to get information. She’d learned from her job that people would te
ll you anything if it meant they might see it in print someday.

  “Yes.” She spoke the rehearsed lines. “Well really it’s about the adoptive parents and any struggles they may have in terms of conflicts with the role of the biological parents.”

  “What kinds of conflict?” Laura put her bone China cup down in its saucer.

  “Well if you knew the mother was a high school drop out or a drug addict as opposed to a college student, would it make a difference?”

  She didn’t answer.

  Kurt spoke. “We’re trying to see how much information various agencies give the adoptive parents, and whether that influences your decision to adopt. We’ll change the names in the books of course.”

  She frowned and got up. “A healthy baby is a healthy baby. That was all my husband Robbie and I cared about. But we were happy that our Riley’s mother was a college girl.”

  Laura walked over to the large roll top desk and used a key to open it. From there another key opened a drawer below. She pulled out a manila envelope.

  “I’m not sure how much information other agencies give but we got quite a lot about Riley’s mother.” She put on her reading glasses and pulled out the sheets.

  She sat on a large burgundy leather couch and summarized. “Her name was Hannah Parker and she was from Sacramento, California. Hannah was an English Lit major. They didn’t say what school. Full academic scholarship so she must have been really bright. She got pregnant and didn’t think she could handle a baby so contacted the New Age Adoption Agency early on. A few months later, when she was six months along we got a call from New Age. We were so excited. The baby was due in August. I planned to fly out there and be allowed to witness the birth.”

  Gloria and Kurt looked at each other. There was no way to fake that, Gloria thought.

  “But then in her eighth month Hannah was in Florida visiting friends. It was too late for her to travel, so she ended up almost losing the baby. We were crushed of course. Mr. Puglisi called and said he had her in a small clinic in Florida where she’d have to stay until the end of her pregnancy. Complete bed rest. It would cost us a small fortune but the only alternative was to let someone else pay the tab and take the little girl we had been waiting for. So we borrowed against our retirement and agreed to pay the hospital Hannah’s bills.”

  “And so the baby was born in Florida?” Gloria asked.

  “Yes.” Laura handed her a paper. “In Windy Key, Florida, a place called Hope House. Don’t you just love that name? Hope House. It’s a birthing center and from the photos a beautiful medical facility.”

  “Ought to be for what you paid right?” Kurt asked.

  She nodded. “Riley was worth every penny. We have a gorgeous, healthy smart little girl.”

  “Couldn’t your insurance pay for that?”

  “No. We tried. There were some adoption provisions in the policy but Hope House wasn’t in the network. Damned insurance companies. Mr. Puglisi had such fights with them!”

  Kurt chewed his lip. “Not in the network huh? But you saw bills from the hospital, or was that just tacked onto the fee?” Masking sarcasm wasn’t his strong suit.

  “Of course. I don’t know where those are now. Perhaps with the financial records if we saved them. Hannah needed a month of bed rest plus an emergency C-section. They sent itemized bills.”

  Kurt shrugged.

  Gloria thought back to the old house in Windy Key and the scarred woman who merely watched over the babies when they were brought in. It was not a medical clinic or birthing center by any stretch of the imagination, but the photos of a real clinic sent to the Murrays did look first rate indeed. She shared them with Kurt whose face pinched with a frown.

  “I don’t see what this has to do with the book idea you were talking about.” Laura’s rosy cheeks blushed red. The crimson was spreading. “I just thank God Hannah happened to be on Windy Key when she started bleeding. She could have been somewhere else and then I wouldn’t have my Riley.” Tears sprung to her eyes. “Think about it. Hannah was only a mile from a top notch birthing center when her problems started. That was God stepping in.”

  Kurt got up and walked to the window, bunching his hands into fists. Gloria was miffed by New Age for manufacturing the story of Hannah’s expensive plight. Generating medical bills to prove the fictional tragedy of surely a fictional person was even more shameful. But Gloria had to hide her irritation.

  Gloria held the woman’s hand. “I agree, Laura. That was God stepping in. Beautiful. Do you mind if I use that in my book?”

  Laura softened. Her guard was back down. “I’d be flattered.”

  “We should go now. It’s a long drive back,” Kurt said.

  “Thank you so much for your time.”

  “Oh it’s no bother. I’m sorry Riley’s not here tonight. She’s at her grandma’s in Old Orchard Beach.”

  “That’s all right. This book is about the parents anyway. And she’s awfully young. Does she even know she’s adopted?”

  “No. We’re going to wait until she’s older. She resembles Robbie and me enough so there’s no reason for her to think otherwise. ” Laura got up again and handed them a framed picture.

  Gloria froze. Little Riley looked so much like Alison! Not an exact likeness, no, yet they could be sisters or even fraternal twins. Except that their ages didn’t allow for that. Alison and Riley were about a month apart. Gloria traced her hand over the dimple on the girl’s cheek in the photo.

  My dimple, she thought. But she’s not exactly me. Or exactly Alison. If there were a tactful way to ask for a DNA sample for Riley, she’d ask. But what would it prove? What if she were a twenty-five percent match too? What then? It didn’t get them any closer to the answer of who the mothers really were, nor precisely and where these kids were born. Riley Murray was no more her child than Alison Gander but their faces haunted her. Somehow they were connected to her. She was reminded of the frightful book and movie The Boys From Brazil by Ira Levin.

  Gloria handed Riley’s photo. “Isn’t she a stunner, Kurt?”

  Kurt had seen a photo of Alison Gander and now this. His eyes grew wide. “Yeah, pretty kid, but we’d best get going, Gloria.”

  Laura Murray handed them their coats as they walked to the front door.

  “Will you send me a copy when it’s done?” Laura asked.

  “Of what? Oh yes, the book. Of course. Of course I will. And thank you so much for having us by. If we have any follow up questions I have your number.”

  “Anytime.”

  Kurt and Gloria walked out to the car and got in before they said a word to each other.

  Kurt turned on the car and cranked the heat. It blew cold air on Gloria. Welcome home from Miami, she thought. She shut the vent until the car warmed up.

  “So Puglisi makes up identities for the mothers. A college girl with an academic scholarship.”

  “English lit,” Gloria said. “Just like me.”

  “Big surprise there,” Kurt grumbled.

  “And he pretends the mother has some kind of distress when she happens to travel to Windy Key. And the parents who have already invested a few months of hope in this mother and their future baby are going to make sure nothing happens. They’ll empty their pockets if need be.” Gloria tested her vent but the air blowing from it was still cool.

  “It’s sick,” Kurt said. “The Puglisis just using people this way. Parents who can’t have their own kid and are desperate to do anything, and he has to push the envelope, squeeze even more money out of them.”

  “At least now we have something concrete. New Age is making dummy invoices. Fake medical bills from a center that doesn’t exist. Isn’t that enough to go to the police and have them shut down?” Gloria asked.

  “It’s a damn good start. But let’s see what the other family has to say. Strength in numbers, you know.”

  “Their daughter looked a lot like Alison,” she said. “Ooh, nice.” Finally the heat kicked in. She put her fingers against
the vent to warm them.

  “She looked a lot like Alison and you.”

  To hear Kurt say that released a jolt of paranoia. “Why? Why does she look like me?”

  “That’s the biggest piece. Once we find that out, this is all going to fall into place. Tell me how to get to your place from here. Tomorrow we’ll go to New York and be one step closer.”

  She gave him directions and then closed her eyes. In little more than an hour, they’d be back to her house where her bed awaited. But she knew with Kurt there, sleep wasn’t going to be on the agenda. Not if she had anything to say about it.

  Gloria needed to rest up for the night ahead. She smiled and rested her hand on his leg. Just close enough to his groin to make him jumpy.

  He picked up her hand and moved it back to her own lap.

  “Tease,” he said as he laughed. “Sleep while you can, Gloria. Because once we get back to your place, don’t even think about getting any shut eye.”

  “Great minds think alike,” she said. She bunched a stolen airplane blanket under her head and leaned against the window. Within seconds, she was asleep.

  Chapter Eight

  1.

  Gloria’s home, Bradfield, MA, February 11th morning

  After stepping from the shower, Gloria wanted to wrap herself in her soft chenille purple robe and put on her pink Happy Bunny socks. This had always been her ritual as a single woman. It was all about feeling comfortable and happy when she was home alone.

  But she had company today. Kurt had spent the night and early morning ravaging her in the most delightful sense of the word. She felt raw, tired, and sexy. Not the right mood for the Happy Bunny socks.

  Kurt remained fast asleep. He’d earned it. She walked by the bed and searched through her closet for something to wear. She didn’t own any sexy sleepwear. No satiny, sexy lingerie.