Red Clover

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by Florence Osmund


  “Something like that.”

  “I don’t get it. What was your plan?”

  “I had made arrangements to put you up for adoption. No one would have known.”

  He closed his eyes for a brief moment, allowing that stunning blow to sink in.

  “So why didn’t you?”

  She didn’t respond right away. “When I saw your face for the first time, I knew...I couldn’t do it.”

  “And Father?”

  “He was furious with me, of course. But in the end, he had to go along with it. He had his reputation at stake.”

  “And you told him who the father was?”

  “Yes, but not at first. That took strength I didn’t have when—”

  “Good grief, Mother. How could you—”

  “Lee, I think I need to lie down. Will you ever forgive me?”

  “I don’t know. I need time to digest all this.”

  All of a sudden, the notion of not being welcomed home for Thanksgiving seemed rather trivial.

  What am I supposed to do with this? Am I now the only one who knows the whole truth besides my parents? Besides Mother and her husband?

  He didn’t know how to refer to them even in his private thoughts. And while it was difficult for Lee to accept his mother violating what he had always thought was a strict moral code, how dare his father refer to his mother as a whore.

  I will never again refer to that man as my father.

  * * *

  It took Lee several days before he found the courage to continue the conversation with his mother. He took a generous swig of Pepto-Bismol before picking up the phone.

  “Mother, we need to talk further. I think I deserve to know everything.”

  “I know, dear, and I agree. Henry will be out of town on Thursday and Friday of this week. He’s leaving at six on Thursday morning. Can you come here?”

  “I’ll be there well after he leaves on Thursday. Please let me know if his plans change. I do not want to run into him.”

  “I’ll see you then. And Lee, I haven’t told anyone of our previous conversation.”

  “I haven’t either.”

  “Good. Let’s keep it that way for now.”

  I know you’ll have no trouble keeping it secret—you’re a champion in that arena.

  * * *

  The sixty-mile drive to Evanston seemed to take much longer than usual, but it gave Lee ample time to formulate all the disconcerting questions that had been occupying his thoughts day and night for the past five days.

  His mother greeted him at the front door and hugged him, leaving him feeling as though he was seeing her, feeling her touch, and smelling her perfume for the first time.

  He led the way to the dining room where he hoped having a table between them would make the discussion they were about to have more valid...or something.

  She called for tea.

  “Where do you want me to start?”

  “At the beginning, Mother. Please start at the beginning.”

  She clasped her hands and rested them on the table in front of her. She looked at him with soulful eyes for a long moment before she spoke.

  “The beginning seems so long ago,” she said through a sigh.

  Her demeanor was surprisingly placid. He wondered if she was on medication of some kind.

  “I met Nelson Sambourg at a City of Hope fundraiser in 1951. Nelson, my Nelson, was just a toddler.”

  “That’s one of my questions, Mother. Why was Nelson named after him?”

  “The fact your brother’s name is Nelson is purely coincidental. He wasn’t named for anyone in particular.”

  “But you told me, and I remember this distinctly, he was named after Uncle Nelson.”

  “I know.” She stared past him. “I don’t know.” Her voice trailed off. “I suppose saying he was named after my uncle helped to reinforce the lies we were telling people about you.”

  “Go on.”

  “I hadn’t bonded very well with Nelson after he was born, and I was very depressed. I think they have a name for it today, but back then, I didn’t know what I was going through. I was extremely unhappy. And Henry...well, he wasn’t very supportive. You know how he is.”

  “Yes, I do.”

  “Anyway, Nelson was so nice to me, such a good listener, so attentive—all the things Henry wasn’t—and...”

  “One thing led to another, and you had an affair with him.”

  “I did.” She paused for a moment. “I did, and it was wrong. And I knew it was wrong. But I was lonely. I was so lonely, and Henry...well, I didn’t feel emotionally connected to him at all, and I needed...as a woman, I needed that. It sounds like an excuse, I know. Please believe me when I say I know what I did was wrong, but...”

  “I know. Go on, Mother.”

  “Then Bennett was born, and—”

  “Bennett?”

  “Yes. And when—”

  “Mother, who is Bennett’s father?”

  “Henry.”

  “Mother?”

  “And when Bennett was born, I thought...”

  “Mother, you’ve come this far. Tell me the truth. Is Uncle Nelson Bennett’s father as well?”

  She looked down for several seconds and then looked up through watery eyes. “I believe in my heart of hearts that he’s Henry’s child, but if I’m being completely truthful about it, I can’t be sure.”

  The thought of Bennett being his full brother took hold of Lee. He waffled for a moment between pressing the issue and letting it go. While it appeared she didn’t want to know for sure, it seemed too vital to discard.

  “What about DNA testing?”

  “That’s not accurate. I’ve looked into it.”

  “They’re making strides in that area, Mother. And there are always blood tests...”

  “May we go on?”

  “Of course.”

  “Your two brothers look alike, so...”

  He had to agree. Unlike Lee, they both resembled their mother. Neither had inherited any of Henry’s features. “I know. Please continue. So Bennett was born...”

  “And after that...well, Nelson and I decided to stop seeing each other. We remained out of touch for a year or so. Until...I ran into him at another charity event, and then...we both felt in our hearts we wanted to pick up where we had left off.”

  “So you and Henry weren't getting along this whole time?” Referring to him as “Henry” felt awkward, but “Father” was out of the question at this point.

  “It’s difficult to explain our relationship...even now. Perhaps some would call it a marriage of convenience. He needed a wife on his arm at all his noted events and someone to come home to, and I needed to uphold my family tradition in the charity world. We’re good at supporting each other that way. But as far as a healthy, happy marriage...no, we’ve never had that.”

  “But you stayed together.”

  “Yes. For all those reasons, and, of course, for you children.” She stared past him for a few seconds. “Anyway, it was January 1960, and Senator Kennedy had just announced his candidacy for president. He was coming to Chicago, and Nelson had a meeting with him. Nelson was very involved in the Congress for Cultural Freedom back then, and that’s what they talked about.”

  “Really? The anti-communism group?”

  “Yes.”

  “There was a scandal about them at one time being funded by the CIA I think.”

  “Allegations were made. Kennedy wanted to support and influence their cause without anyone knowing about it. Nelson was his intermediary.”

  “How did the two of them meet?”

  “Nelson offered his family’s printing business for many of their publications. Apparently Kennedy found him through that connection.”

  “Sounds intriguing. I wish I had been able to talk to him about it.”

  “I know, dear. He was so enamored by Jack Kennedy, but he couldn’t talk about him, as he had to keep their relationship confidential, even with me. Anyway, tha
t day, I stayed in Nelson’s hotel room while the two of them met in a private room somewhere else in the hotel. When he returned to the room, he was so excited, and I was, too. Well, you were conceived that night.”

  Lee’s heart pounded high in his chest. She made it sound so...so right. So legitimate somehow.

  “We were so caught up in the moment, we weren’t careful.”

  She stopped talking. As she rose up from her chair, he could see the tears welling up in her eyes. “I need to lie down,” she whispered.

  Lee got up from his chair.

  “Are you okay, Mother?”

  “I’m okay,” she said when she was halfway to the stairs leading to the second floor bedrooms.

  Lee was left alone to mull over all that he had just learned—his parent’s disingenuous marriage, his mother’s desperate need for emotional support, and Nelson’s clandestine relationship with JFK. It was a lot to contemplate, but of all the crucial details his mother had just revealed, the one that struck him most was the fact that he had been conceived the same day his father had met with a future president of the United States.

  How different his life would have been, he thought, had he grown up in a household with his mother and Nelson as a father. He fanticized about what it would have been like to have two loving parents growing up, no siblings to rival, and a father he could talk to, look up to, and respect. He pictured his mother very different in the presence of Nelson. He pictured her much softer, warmer, with a comforting smile instead of the stilted one she typically wore. He imagined her being expressive, lighthearted, and fun. He envisioned her being a good listener and helping him grow into adulthood, encouraging him in areas that he found of interest, and supporting his efforts. He pictured her not afraid.

  Lee walked into the front parlor and took a long hard look at it. Of all the rooms in the house, this one bothered him the most. All the rooms were opulent, but this one rivaled ones in the Palace of Versailles with its extraordinary coved ceiling, hand-painted silk wall covering, massive carved marble fireplace, antique grand piano with intricately inlaid tortoiseshell and mother of pearl, matching gold gilt settees, and twelve-foot tall ornately carved secretare. He walked to the middle of the room and stepped onto the Sickle-Leaf Persian throw rug he had never stepped on before, perhaps no one had ever stepped on before. Like everything else in the room, touching it made him feel especially uneasy.

  Whenever he had been summoned to the front parlor during his childhood, he knew he was about to be told something important. It was like entering into a den of uncertainty—he never knew what to expect. His parents always sat in their matching Louis XV chairs during these discussions. And afterward, regardless if it had been good or bad news, he always felt the same sick feeling in his stomach. Lee cringed as a wave of queasiness came over him, and while these chairs looked far less intimidating than when he was a child, he realized the terrorizing affect they had on him had remained.

  Lee went to the kitchen for a glass of water and then retreated to the dining room to wait for his mother. When she reemerged, she had a glass of sherry in her hand.

  “How are you feeling, Mother? Can we pick up where we left off?”

  “Yes. I asked Bryah to have dinner ready by seven. Let’s go in the front parlor. Would you like something to—”

  “Mother, can we go somewhere else please?”

  His mother shot him a bewildered look. “Of course, dear. How about the sunroom?”

  The sunroom looked out on a half-acre of impeccably manicured lawn, sculpted hedges, and mature oak trees. Beyond the property was the edge of a high ridge overlooking Lake Michigan. The view gave Lee a reassuring sense of a world out there beyond the Winekoop family.

  “Yes, that would be nice,” he responded.

  “Before I pick up where I left off, are you all right? I am telling you things that, well, may be shocking to you, and...”

  “I’m okay. I don’t think there’s anything you could say at this point that would be too much for me to handle. Please continue. What happened when you realized you were pregnant, presumably soon after that hotel encounter?”

  “So, I knew it wasn’t Henry’s, and of course he would know it couldn’t have been his because...we weren't...well, we didn’t...”

  “I get it, Mother. Go on.”

  “I went into a real panic. It was out of the question to disgrace my family, and while you could get a legal abortion in some states, it wasn’t something I could ever do. So, in my mind, the only solution was...a secret adoption.”

  “Mother.”

  “Yes, Lee.”

  “Thank you for not having an abortion.”

  She reached over and touched his hand. “I know.” She wiped a lone tear from her cheek. “I didn’t start showing until I was almost six months’ pregnant, and that’s when I planned a trip to our New York apartment. Henry didn’t think anything of it since, as you know, I went there often without him. And by that time, we could be apart for long periods of time and think nothing of it. And Nelson and Bennett were at Camp Laurel for the summer, so…”

  Lee knew Camp Laurel to be an exclusive summer camp in Maine his brothers had attended as children.

  “But this time was different,” she explained.

  “How so?”

  “I learned later he suspected I was having an affair. So he showed up in New York, unannounced, thinking he would catch me there with someone. But what he found instead was a very pregnant wife.”

  “I can’t even imagine what his reaction was.”

  “It was bad, but in a peculiar way I felt he had come to rescue me.”

  “Rescue you.”

  “In a peculiar way.”

  “You said you didn’t tell him whose baby it was right away.”

  “At first, he didn’t seem interested in whose child it was—that it was someone else’s child was enough. But after a while, he demanded to know, and he had the right to know, so I told him.”

  “Did he know him?”

  “Yes. He had met Nelson and his wife several times at various events.”

  “His wife?”

  “Yes, Nelson was also married.”

  His mother’s facial expression said it all, and for a few seconds, he thought she was going to faint. When the color returned to her face, he didn’t have the heart to explore Nelson’s family life any further.

  “So tell me more about Henry’s reaction. How bad was it?”

  “There was a lot of ranting and raving. It took him several hours to calm down, and when he did, he left the apartment. Didn’t say a word. He just left.”

  “Making things even worse.”

  “Yes. At least when he was ranting and raving, I knew where he was and what was going through his mind.”

  “Did Uncle Nelson...Nelson...know you were pregnant?”

  “Yes.”

  “And that you planned to give me up for adoption?”

  “He wasn’t in favor of that, not at first.”

  “What did he want you to do?”

  “He couldn’t come up with any other viable option, so eventually he went along with it. So Henry flew back to Chicago, and I stayed in New York until you were born. I had already made arrangements with the adoption agency, but as soon as I saw your face, well, I knew I couldn’t go through with it. I called Henry and asked him to come to New York so we could talk.”

  “That had to be hard.”

  “I knew what I was up against, but I was determined to do the right thing. I’m not sure where I got the courage to ask him to accept you as his own son.”

  “He never did, you know.”

  “I know.” She struggled to keep back the tears. “I’m sorry, Lee. I thought I was doing what was in your best interest.”

  “I understand.”

  No, I don’t.

  “Henry didn’t show up until right after you were born, and when I was ready to be released, he said to me—I’ll never forget his words—he said, ‘I promised I wo
uld marry you for better or for worse, and I meant it.'“

  “I think now that I need a break.”

  “Dinner will be ready in an hour.”

  Lee went to his old bedroom, kicked off his shoes, and lay down on his bed, face up, staring at the ceiling. If he concentrated real hard, he could make out a man’s face camouflaged in the obscure swirls of the textured ceiling paint. He had a kind face—engaging eyes and just a curl of a smile. He looked away, and when he looked back, he couldn’t find him again.

  Bryah, the cook, made poached red snapper for dinner, one of Lee’s favorite dishes. He and his mother ate in silence—like always—but this time for a different reason.

  Later, after dinner, the conversation resumed, once his mother had had a couple of glasses of sherry. Lee joined her in a glass this time.

  “So how did you come up with my name?”

  “I always liked that name. Actually, I wanted to give Bennett that name, but Henry didn’t like it.”

  Good one, Mother. Add one more thing to exacerbate Henry’s contempt for me.

  “And Oliver?”

  “That’s Nelson’s middle name.”

  “And he didn’t have a problem with that?”

  “Who, Henry?”

  “Yes.” Deciding what to call him was getting increasingly difficult.

  “I never told him.”

  “Never told him?”

  “To this day, I don’t think he knows your middle name.”

  “That’s incredible.”

  “On many levels.”

  “So we get home, and how do you explain me to everyone?”

  “We told people, including your brothers, that while I was in New York, I discovered I was pregnant, and instead of making the trip back here, I stayed in New York to have the baby.”

  “But at some point, everyone knows Nelson is my real father, everyone but me, of course. How did that happen?”

  “When you were still a toddler, and the boys were in their early teens, Henry had one too many martinis one day and flew into one of his rages. By the time he was done yelling, everyone within a mile radius knew Nelson was your real father. It was so awful. I had to do quick damage control and tell your brothers and the help that Henry didn’t mean anything he had said, and none of it was ever to be repeated.”

 

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