“Dad?”
I put the letters on the table.
“Your mother asked me to find someone before she died. A woman named Anna. She was my first love.”
Rebecca listened without interrupting.
I told her about the proposal and the letter. My mother’s threats. The pregnancy Anna had tried to tell me about.
Then I reached for her hand.
“Anna is your birth mother, sweetheart. And I’m your biological father.”
Rebecca pulled back slightly.
“But you adopted me.”
“I did. I didn’t know.”
She looked at the papers, then at me again.
“How could you not know?”
“Grandma arranged it. The information we were given didn’t identify Anna. I believed what I was told.”
Rebecca began to read.
I watched her pause at Carol’s name. Her mouth tightened. She turned one page over, then brought it back as if she needed to be certain she hadn’t misunderstood.
“Mom knew?”
“Yes.”
“The whole time?”
I nodded.
She pressed her palm against her eyes.
“When I asked about my birth mother, she said giving me up had been an act of love. She told me I shouldn’t feel unwanted.”
“You weren’t unwanted.”
My voice broke, and I tried again.
“Anna asked for me. She wanted help. She was frightened, and people she should have been able to trust used that against her.”
Rebecca sat very still.
“Did Mom think she was protecting me?”
I wanted to give her an answer that would hurt less. I looked at Carol’s handwriting and made myself tell the truth.
“I think she was afraid of losing us. I can’t explain every choice she made.”
Rebecca’s eyes met mine.
“Did she really love me?”
That question nearly undid me.
“Every day of your life,” I said. “You never had to earn it. You never did anything wrong. What she kept from us was her responsibility.”
Rebecca began crying, and I moved to the chair beside her.
“I miss her,” she whispered. “I’m so angry with her, and I still want to call her.”
I put my arm around her.
“I know. So do I.”
We stayed that way until she could speak again.
“Does Anna want to meet me?”
“More than anything. But she knows you need time.”
Rebecca looked at the photograph I’d brought up on my phone.
She studied Anna’s face for a long time.
“Her eyes,” she said softly.
