She had known the truth every time.
I put the letter down before I tore it.
“Did you ever look for our daughter?” I asked.
Anna nodded. “I asked questions. I wrote to the contact I had. By then, the address was no longer any good. It was a private arrangement, and I had so little information.”
“Who arranged it?”
“Your mother handled everything through a woman named Marjorie.”
My mother had kept receipts for appliances she no longer owned. She had filed church bulletins by year.
After her death, I had packed her papers into boxes and carried them up to my attic. Ten years later, most were still unopened.
“She might have kept something,” I said.
Anna looked up.
“I can’t promise,” I added. “But I’ll look.”
PART 5: The Letters in the Attic
I barely slept that night.
When daylight reached the bedroom curtains, I climbed into the attic and began opening boxes.
There were tax returns, birthday cards, photographs with names written on the back. I found a drawing I’d made in elementary school. My mother had dated it and saved it in an envelope.
I sat holding it for a moment, unable to reconcile that care with what Anna had told me.
Then I put it aside and kept looking.
At the bottom of a carton was a shoebox sealed with yellowed tape. My mother’s handwriting ran across the lid.
PRIVATE.
Inside were letters from Marjorie.
The first described Anna arriving while she was nearly six months pregnant.
“She continues to ask whether Walter knows about the baby. As you requested, I have told her that contacting him would only cause further trouble.”
I read the sentence again, slowly.
Another letter described the days after the birth. Anna had been reluctant to sign. She had asked again whether I knew. She had cried when they took the baby from her.
I lowered the page.
All those years, I had carried the memory of a girl who didn’t want me. Somewhere else, Anna had been carrying the memory of asking for me and being refused.
Near the bottom of the stack was a letter about the baby’s placement.
“Carol is eager to proceed once the wedding has taken place. Walter understands that the birth mother has requested no contact. We will continue to honor your request for discretion.”
