Family Tree Part 20

"Working on it."

She saw his lack of success as a validation of her own. "It's not easy, is it."

"No, but we'll get there. We'll find the man and learn whether there's anything else we ought to know."

"Like what?"

"Medical conditions. That's what all this is about. Once we're fully informed, we can put this behind us and move on."

Dana wasn't appeased. "It isn't about information. It's about us!" Discouraged, she said, "For what it's worth, I have a lead. I found someone who might have known my father."

He raised a brow. "Someone here?"

"No. A friend of my mother's in Wisconsin. I found a letter she sent after I was born. It suggested that my mother was with the man for longer than a week."

"Really? Interesting. But if he was a student, 'Jack Jones' wasn't his name. Lakey did check that out."

"Then 'Jack Jones' wasn't his name," Dana concluded.

"Can you reach this woman?" Hugh asked.

"I don't know."

"Should I have Lakey try?"

"No. I'll do it." She saw the doubt in his eyes. "I'm capable, Hugh. I could have found my father years ago, could have hired my own detective, but I didn't want to find him badly enough. But you do. So I'll do it. Because I respect that you need to know."

He stared at her. "I'm the bad guy then?"

"d.a.m.n it, yes!" she cried. "I keep thinking back to the first few hours after Lizzie was born, and realizing that the experience would have been totally different if you hadn't wanted to explain away her color so that no one thought it was your problem. Well, it is, Hugh. Only it doesn't have to be a problem. Why can't we be proud of our daughter? Why can't we send out the birth announcement? Do you love Lizzie, or don't you? Do you love me, or don't you? That's what it's about, Hugh." She touched her heart. "It's about what's here."

Chapter 16.

On Thursday, after two days of hesitation, Dana approached Gillian Kline at the shop. She had been close all of Dana's life. Dana trusted her judgment.

"I found a letter from an Eileen O'Donnell to my mother," she said, and waited for a sign of recognition.

But Gillian frowned. "The name isn't familiar. Who is she?"

"She was a dormmate of my mom's. Her married name is McCain. Eileen O'Donnell McCain."

"I don't recognize it."

Dana showed her the letter and waited while she read it. Then she said, "Maybe I should ignore it. How could she have been anyone important in my mother's life if you don't know her name?"

"Because," Gillian said reasonably, "your mother was in Madison for three years, and I wasn't with her. I couldn't have known all her friends. There may have been friends she chose not to mention."

"But why would she do that?"

"Maybe because they knew him. Liz led us all to believe that the guy was a one-night stand, but according to this letter, that wasn't so."

Dana persisted. "But who is Eileen O'Donnell, and why should I believe her?"

Gillian put an arm around her shoulders. "Because you have no one else. Besides, it's not like she wrote you that letter. She wrote it to your mother, a.s.suming no one else would see it, which gives it validity."

"Then you think I should call?"

Gillian smiled sadly. "I think yes. You've come this far. You'll always wonder. That is, if you can find her phone number."

Dana let out a resigned breath. "I already have."

"Via Hugh's detective?"

"No. The Alumni Directory. It's online."

Gillian smiled in a wise way. "So, sweetie, isn't there a message in that?"

Dana made the call, but not for herself. She was still torn about wanting to know who her father was, all the more so now with the suggestion that her mother had wanted to avoid him. She didn't make the call for Hugh, either. She did it for Lizzie. The child had been born with genetic traits that were going to impact her life. In time, she would ask questions. She deserved answers.

Eileen O'Donnell McCain lived in Middleton, a Madison suburb. Dana punched in the number as she stood in the family room. The ba.s.sinet was nearby, the baby kicking her little arms and legs.

A teenaged girl answered.

"I'd like to talk with Eileen McCain, please," Dana said.

There was a half-hidden groan-the girl was clearly hoping for someone else-but a nonetheless civil "Who's calling?"

Dana took a breath. Time to commit. "It's Dana Joseph." No need to offer her married name. This was the one her mother's friend would know, and she did use it professionally. "My mother was a college friend of Mrs. McCain."

"Hold on." The receiver fell with a clatter.

After a minute, there was a wary "h.e.l.lo?" This voice was more mature.

"Mrs. McCain?"

"Yes?"

"I'm Dana Joseph. I believe you knew my mother in college-Elizabeth Joseph?"

The woman's voice quickly warmed. "Liz. Of course. And you're the daughter. I'm so pleased you called. I heard well after the fact that your mother had died. I'm sorry. She was a wonderful person."

Dana would have loved to ask, In what way? She remembered so little that even in spite of all that Ellie Jo and Gillian had told her, she hungered for more. But that wasn't her first priority. "Thank you," she said simply. "I was actually going through an old knitting stash of hers and found the directions you sent for your grandmother's Faroese shawl. I'm an avid knitter like my mom, so I opened up the directions, and there was the letter you sent along with them. You implied that you knew the man who fathered me. The thing is, I've just had a baby and there's a medical situation-well, not actually medical, but a physical situation-that I want to check out, so I'd like to contact him, only I don't have a clue where to begin."

"What did your mother say about him?"

"Not much," Dana replied, feeling a touch of disloyalty at the criticism implicit in her tone, but her mother had been wrong. Certain responsibilities came with being a parent, which was precisely why Dana was making this call now. As mixed as her own feelings were, as Lizzie's parent she owed the child this. "We all had the impression that he was someone just pa.s.sing through town. She told me his name was Jack Jones."

There was silence on the other end, then a sigh. "Well, that was part of his name, and it was what we called him. His full name was Jack Jones Kettyle."

Jack Jones Kettyle. Kettyle. "Did you know him?"

"It was hard not to know him. He was a year ahead of us, and a party boy of the first order-at least, until he met your mother. He was madly in love with her. She was the one who broke it off."

Dana was startled. "She was? But why?"

"Lots of reasons. He adored her, probably too much, and she felt smothered. She didn't love him that way. There was also his religion. He was devout."

"Devout what?"

"Catholic," Eileen said. "He was from a big family and wanted an even bigger family, and he made no bones about wanting to go back to New York, have his sons be altar boys, keep his wife at home knitting sweaters."

"She rejected him because he was Catholic?" Dana asked in disbelief. Catholic, not black. The irony boggled the mind.

"It wasn't the religion per se. His family was overbearing. She met them once. It was a disaster. That visit probably ended Jack's chances. But he did love Liz."

"Liz, or the image of Liz knitting?" Dana asked.

"Liz. But, yes, knitting added to the image. Liz was comforting to him. She was comforting to most of us."

Dana thought of Gillian, and of Nancy Russell and Trudy Payette. All three had known Liz growing up and said the same thing. "I was only five when she died. All I knew was that she was the center of my world."

"Of Jack's, too, for a while. He fell hard."

Struggling to grasp this, Dana was silent. "I'm sorry," she said when she collected her thoughts. "This isn't what I expected." She paused, then asked, "How can a playboy be a devout Catholic?"

"Ever hear of JFK?"

"I have a picture of my father. He wasn't as good-looking as JFK."

"Maybe not in a picture, but in person there was something about him. He had charisma. And he fought hard for your mother. For the longest time, he refused to accept that she wouldn't marry him."

He'll be gone by then, so you'll be free. That explained the letter. But there was so much more Dana wanted to learn. She didn't know if Eileen McCain had answers, but Gillian was right. Dana had no one else to ask.

"Did she learn she was pregnant before or after she broke up with him?"

"After."

"And that didn't change her mind?"

"No. She didn't love Jack. She couldn't see raising her child in the kind of family he wanted."

"Did she ever consider an abortion?"

"Lord, no. She wanted the baby. Wanted you."

"But it meant she had to drop out of school."

"Not had to. Chose to. She was happy going home. She loved her parents and knew that they would love her child."

"Did Jack Kettyle know she was pregnant?"

"Not to my knowledge. She left school before she showed."

"What excuse did she give for leaving?"

"She said she missed home and could finish her degree in Boston. Did she ever do that?"

"No. My grandmother's yarn store had just opened, and my mother wanted to work there. But please go back to Jack. If he was so in love with her, why didn't he try to reach her at home?"

Eileen didn't immediately answer. Finally, apologetically, she said, "Oh, he was hurt. He turned to his second choice, likely on the rebound, got her pregnant, and didn't look back."

"Did he marry her?"

"I believe he did."

"Are they still married?"

"Last I heard."

"Were there any other men? I mean, for my mother?"

"Dozens. There were some great guys who would have loved to date her. But Jack was, well, irresistible."

Dana rephrased the question. "I mean, had she slept with others? It would be humiliating, for both of us-Jack and me-if I approached him and made a false accusation. Is he definitely my father?"

"Oh." An embarra.s.sed laugh. "I'm sorry. I misunderstood. No, she never slept with anyone else here. Jack Kettyle was the only one."

"Sounds like a gem," Dana said. "He was a playboy, but he was devout, and apparently ignorant. Didn't he know about birth control, even the rhythm kind? And after unprotected s.e.x, didn't he ever wonder if she was pregnant? Did he ever call her at home after she left school?"

"I don't know the answers to those questions."

Dana leaned toward the ba.s.sinet and cupped Lizzie's cheek. More quietly, she said, "I was just venting."

"You mentioned a medical problem? Is the baby not well?"

"She's wonderful. It's just that she has certain African-American features, and we're trying to trace them back. My husband's family is well doc.u.mented, so the obvious guess centers on my biological father. Think Jack Jones Kettyle is biracial?"

"No, but I can only base that on his appearance. I never saw the rest of his family. Liz did, but she never mentioned race."

"I mean, is this poetic justice or what?" Dana asked. "I'm worried that my daughter will be rejected because she's African American, and my own mother rejected someone because of his religion."

"It was the lifestyle she rejected, not the religion. She just didn't love him enough."