“I’m on my dinner break. What is it, Jess?”
“Just wondering how much longer you’re going to be living there.”
“As long as it takes. Why?”
“Well, how long is that?”
“I don’t know. Maybe forever. It’s not so bad here.”
“Forever? I thought your plan was to save enough to rent an apartment of your own, so we could be a family again.”
“So I could support you? Is that what you mean?”
“I’m working! Well, I was working.”
“What happened?”
“You know how unfair bosses can be.”
“What did you do?”
“Nothing. How’s Aunt Hannah doing?”
“She’s upset that her driving privileges were taken away. Other than that, she’s hanging in there.”
“It’s about time. Her driving was horrible. How’s her heath these days?”
“Not good. It hasn’t been for quite a while. Why do you ask?”
“I was thinking maybe she has enough room for Kayla and me and wouldn’t mind the company.”
“She has a live-in caregiver now, so that would never work. Look, I need to tell you something, and I don’t have much time.”
“What’s that?”
“There may be someone trying to find us.”
“Like who?”
“He’s, well, he’s Dad’s son.”
“What?”
“Your father has a son. He supported him and his mother when the boy was younger. He’s grown now.”
“What? How do you know this, and why would he be looking for us?”
She talked fast. “Years ago, I found part of a letter from this woman to Wayne. It wasn’t hard to read between the lines. There was even a photo of the three of them.”
“What the—”
“Your father joined the Army when he was eighteen,” she whispered. “There was a war going on at the time, between India and some other country—Pakistan, I think. Anyway, he met this woman there. Fathered a child. Tamir is his name.”
“Do you still have the picture? I’d like to see it.”
“I don’t know where it is now. I pretended I never saw it.”
“So why would he be looking for us? Does he know Dad is dead?”
“When Wayne died, I went through his things and found Tamir’s address. I wrote to him. Once. To let him know his father died. It seemed like the right thing to do.”
“You wrote him?”
“And he wrote back saying he wanted to meet us. I never responded. He’ll never find me here, and maybe not you either, but I thought you should know just in case.”
“I don’t understand how—”
“I don’t have time to explain. Just be careful who—”
“Maybe I want to meet him.”
“Forget it, Jess. You have more important things to worry about.”
“It’s not that easy for me. You’re telling me I have a brother out there somewhere. And let’s not forget about Paige.”
“Leave them both ‘out there somewhere,’ as you put it. That’s where they’ve been all these years, and that’s where they need to stay.”
“What does he look like?”
“He’s from India. His mother is dark, but his skin tone is lighter.”
“He’s Indian?”
“He and his mother moved from India to San Francisco when he was pretty young.”
“How do you know this?”
“It was in the woman’s letter. I didn’t have the whole story but enough to piece a lot of it together.”
“I wish I could read it.”
“I put it back where I’d found it, and it disappeared from there.”
“So when were you going to tell me this?”
“I wasn’t.”
“So why now?”
“I just got to thinking, and with your connection with Paige and everything. I was afraid he’d find you and you wouldn’t be prepared for it.”
“Does he know we moved?”
“No.”
“Do you have his phone number?”
“Yes.”
“Have you called him?”
“No.”
“Are you going to call him?”
“What do I want with Wayne’s other child? I’ve tried all these years to forget he had another life. I don’t owe him anything.”
“He’s my half-brother.”
“So what? He means nothing to you either.”
“How does he know about me?”
“I assume Wayne told him about both of us.”
“And you kept all this from me.”
“It was his other life. It had nothing to do with you.”
“You don’t get it, Mom.”
Chapter 29
Had she heard him right? Paige took a step back while the shock of the man’s statement settled over her. Her father’s two sons were standing outside her mother’s door?
She reached for the doorknob, not sure what words would come out of her mouth when she looked at them again. After a long deliberate moment, she opened the door and invited them in, cell phone in hand in case they tried anything.
“Follow me, please,” she said as she led them through the house, past sleeping Natalie, to the patio. “We can talk out here. I don’t want to disturb my sister.” What she really didn’t want was for them to be in the house.
A low-lying fog throughout the property and the cawing of a distant crow created an eerie mood for this meeting. Paige studied the men’s stoic faces as they approached her. Both were nice-looking and well-groomed.
After everyone had been seated, Paige introduced herself as Elaine and Ryan West’s daughter.
“I am Tim, and this is my brother Hank,” the man who had spoken to her at the door said. “Let me begin by saying we are very sorry for your loss.”
“And you as well,” said Paige, uncertain why she had acknowledged their relationship to her father so early in the conversation.
“Allow me to begin,” said Tim. His English, despite his heavy accent, was impeccable.
“Before you say anything more, how did you know to come here, to this address?”
“There were many letters from your father to our mother. We read some of them. His name and address were on the envelopes.”
“Really.” Paige found it hard to believe her father would have been so transparent about his real identity. “Go on.”
“Our mother, who is Indian, was a nurse employed at a small American camp on the Pakistan-India border that, according to our father, was put there by the CIA to investigate Russian activity. There was a war going on between India and Pakistan at the time, and our father was periodically sent to this camp in his capacity as an intelligence officer. That’s where they met and eventually had a relationship.”
“My father went into the military right out of high school,” Paige added.
“That’s what we understand as well. Anyway, according to our mother, sometime after they shut down the camp, she discovered she was pregnant but didn’t tell our father because by that time his orders had been changed, and he was to finish his military tour in the U.S.”
“What year was this?” Paige asked.
“I was born in April of 1972, so she must have gotten pregnant in June or July of 1971,” Tim said without making eye contact.
Paige’s parents were married in 1975 in Chicago.
“And your brother?”
So far, Tim had done all the talking. “Hank, would you care to continue the story?” Tim asked.
“Our mother told us—”
“Sorry to interrupt, but is your mother still alive?” Paige asked.
“Yes, she is,” Tim quickly added. “She went back to India last year, to be with her ailing sister.” He glanced at his brother. “Please continue, Hank.”
“She told us that she was prepared to raise Tim on her own, even though it meant leaving India, since it was too shameful for
her to be an unwed mother there. So she moved to London where she gave birth to Tim. Afterward, she took a job again as a nurse, this time at a U.S. military base outside of London where she met a man named Bernard Novander.”
This name was familiar to Paige. Her father had talked about this old Army buddy many times before.
“Well, it turned out that in the course of one of their conversations, Bernard told him about this nurse he’d just met. When Dad realized who it was, and Mr. Novander mentioned she had an infant son, our father came to London and they reunited. And then I was born.”
“What is your mother’s name?”
“Qudrah. Qudrah Noor.”
“And when were you born?”
Hank hesitated, ever so slightly. “December 1973.”
Both men came across as unusually articulate—well-spoken, confident, and polite. Almost too much so, she thought. Their guard appeared to be up, and it was impossible to read their faces.
“Okay. Go on.”
“The way our mother told it, Father was engaged to another woman—someone from the States, someone we now know was your mother—whom he intended on marrying. Regardless of this, he offered to fly us to the U.S. and support us.”
She tried to remember if either of her parents had ever mentioned when they’d met—all she knew was they’d had a long engagement before marrying, which fit in with what they were saying. She made a mental note to ask her mother.
“So you had an ongoing relationship with him?”
“Yes, of course.”
“Tell me about it.”
“He was in and out of our lives. Perhaps we saw him once a month. One time, when we were much younger, he took us to Disneyland. Another time on a cruise to Cozumel.”
“Are you aware of his other children?”
“Not other than you and your sister,” said Hank.
“How did you become aware of us?”
“Our father told us about you.”
“But he didn’t tell you about the others?”
“He may have. We were young and perhaps we don’t remember everything.”
She didn’t respond right away, but instead stared at Hank for a moment while contemplating her next question.
“So, why did you come here? What do you want from us?”
Mid-sentence, Natalie emerged from inside the house, her clothes askew and her hair mussed from her nap.
“Well, well, who do we have here?” Natalie asked.
“Please join us, Natalie.” Paige gestured to the nearest chair. “The short version of this story is that these two gentlemen are our half-brothers. Our dad and their mother met in India, where their mother is from, while Dad was in the service.”
“Get outta here,” Natalie said with a smirk. “Excuse me for a minute.” She came back with her phone and pointed it at the two men. “Say ‘whiskey’.”
“What are you doing?” Tim asked.
“If you’re family, we need a photo for the album. Now, smile for the camera.”
The two men gave halfhearted grins while Paige looked on in disbelief. If it hadn’t been uncomfortable before the photo shoot, it certainly was now.
“Before you walked in, Natalie, I was asking them why they’re here.” She turned toward the two men. “Is there something you want, something you wish to accomplish?”
Tim responded. “The main reason for our coming here…has to do with a ring.”
His response caught her off guard. “A ring,” she repeated, a fine layer of goosebumps skittering up her arms.
“Our father wore a gold ring for as long as we can remember. His initials were engraved on the inside of the band. Had a small stone in it. Our mother gave him that ring as a thank-you gift for bringing us to America. Are you familiar with it?”
It took some time for Paige’s breathing to return to normal. Undecided at first whether to admit awareness of the ring, she ultimately nodded. Any doubt she may have had believing their story had greatly diminished. “We’re familiar with it.”
“That is all we want of his. It doesn’t hold much monetary value—the stone was quite small—but it has sentimental value for our mother. She’s not well. I hope you understand.”
Paige was rendered speechless for several seconds—how could one small piece of jewelry mean so much to so many?
“So it’s your mother who wants the ring back?” Paige asked.
“It would mean very much to her.”
“And she’s ill, you say?”
“Heart problems.”
“I thought you said it was her sister who was ill.”
“Neither is in good health I’m afraid.”
“We’ll have to talk about the ring at a later time,” she said after thinking it over. “There are other people involved, including our mother.”
“That’s fair enough,” Tim said. “I am going back to San Francisco Sunday morning, and it would be nice to have this resolved before then, but if not, my brother can handle things from here.”
A new wave of suspicion swept through Paige’s mind. “Tell me, Hank, what do you do for a living?”
“I teach biochemistry at the University of Illinois.”
“And you, Tim?”
“I’m a pediatrician.”
“You two don’t have very Indian-sounding names,” Natalie blurted out.
Leave it to Natalie.
Tim uttered a suppressed chuckle. “In fact, we do. I am Tamir, and this is Hanik. We find it easier to go by our American nicknames.”
Tamir Noor—the name her mother had written on her will.
“I see,” said Paige as she rose from her chair. “Is that all then?” she asked, suddenly feeling uneasy about their presence.
Tim eyed his brother before rising. “Yes, I suppose it is,” he said.
They exchanged cell phone numbers before the four of them left the wet blanket of fog that had settled on the patio and walked through the house to the front door.
“We want to thank you for your hospitality, Miss Paige, and we look forward to hearing from you in the near future.”
They all shook hands.
Paige closed the door, leaned up against it, and sighed.
“Okay,” Natalie said, “tell me what the hell is going on here.”
Chapter 30
Jessivel pulled Paige’s business card from her purse and dialed her cell phone number. When Paige answered, she didn’t waste time on pleasantries.
“So, Paige, do you know about our half-brother from India?” she said louder than she had intended.
“Hello, Jessivel. I’m glad you called. I wanted to—”
“Our father had another child you know…in India. The way I figure it, he’s in his mid-forties by now.”
“Where did you hear that?”
“My mother told me. Apparently, Dad was stationed there when he was in the Army and got her pregnant. And he wants to meet with Mom and me. What do you think of that?”
“Will you meet with him?”
“I don’t know. Maybe.”
“I’ve already met him…and his brother.”
“What?”
“They came to my mother’s door recently, and we had a long talk. Would you like me to fill you in?”
Jessivel couldn’t find the end-call button on her phone fast enough. How dare Paige one-up her news about their supposed brother.
Within seconds, she saw Paige’s name flashing on the phone screen. She ignored it.
Never had she felt so out of it when it came to her family—her mother knew things, Paige knew things, and the new Indian brother likely did too. Or was it brothers? Her mother had mentioned just one. She’d been kept in the dark her whole life. But why?
The hell with all of them.
“No, I don’t have $125, Kayla. I barely have enough money for this week’s groceries,” Jessivel explained to her daughter. “Thanks to Princess Paige, I lost my job.”
“But I need it for school, Mom.”
&nbs
p; “That much money! For what?”
“To join the basketball team.”
“No.”
“Why not? The coach really wants me to join. He said I have the height and the potential.”
“You may have all that and more, but you don’t have $125.”
“But Mom.”
“And then there will be money for the uniform and shoes and God knows what else. The answer is no.”
“It’s called a jersey.”
“I don’t care what it’s called, we can’t afford it.”
“This stinks.”
“Tell me about it.”
“Why don’t you pawn Poppy’s ring? I bet you could get $125 for it.”
“Don’t tempt me.”
“When are you getting another job?”
“Whenever.”
“Have you even tried to find one?”
“Look—”
“I’m just askin’.”
A ping from her phone alerted her to a text message.
u might try goodwill industries in yr job search
The message was from Paige. Attached to it was something she didn’t have the slightest idea how to open.
“Doesn’t that wacko ever give up?” Jessivel shouted.
“Who are you talking about, Mom?”
“No one. Never mind,” Jessivel said, tossing the phone onto the sofa.
Kayla grabbed the phone. Jessivel tried unsuccessfully to get it away from her.
“Mom, someone’s giving you a lead on a job!”
“I’m not interested.”
“Well, you should be.”
“Look, who’s the kid and who’s the parent here?”
Kayla stared at her mother. “You tell me.”
“Go to your room.”
As much as she hated to admit it, Kayla was right. Jessivel had to find work, and if she was being honest with herself, working wasn’t so bad, even if it meant waiting on people who didn’t know what it was like to be in her shoes. And there had been a few feel-good moments at The Busy Bean when she’d given Audrey and others tips she’d learned in class as well as ones she’d learned on her own.
She called Cassandra at CDFSS to let her know she needed another job. When asked, Jessivel explained what happened at The Busy Bean.
“It doesn’t sound like that woman did very much to provoke you,” Cassandra said.
The Ring Page 15