My wife was dying when she asked me to find Anna, the woman who had rejected my proposal 40 years ago. I kept my promise \u2013 but Anna\u2019s first words made me question my entire marriage.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The hospital room smelled like antiseptic and the faint lavender lotion my wife, Carol, always kept in her purse. I sat in the vinyl chair beside her bed, holding her thin hand and listening to the slow rhythm of the machines.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Thirty-six years of marriage had come down to this small square of light.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cDo you remember the porch swing?\u201d I asked.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Her eyes fluttered open. \u201cYou painted it green.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cOur daughter hated it.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cShe was four. She hated everything that wasn\u2019t pink.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The hospital room smelled like antiseptic.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Carol smiled, then winced. I squeezed her hand.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Two days earlier, the doctor had pulled me into the hallway. He\u2019d used careful words, but I heard the ones that mattered.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Spread. Nothing more. Comfort.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Carol had come into my life when I was at my lowest.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
She never pushed me to talk about it. She just stayed.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
He\u2019d used careful words.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I fell in love with her slowly, then completely.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Carol told me from the beginning that she couldn\u2019t have children. I accepted it and never imagined I\u2019d be a father.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Then, sometime later, she suggested we adopt a little girl. That was when we decided to get married and become a family.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cWalt.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cI\u2019m right here.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cTell me about Sunday breakfasts. When Rebecca was little.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
She suggested we adopt a little girl.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cYou made cinnamon pancakes. Our daughter sat on the counter cracking eggs and getting shells in the bowl.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cShe looked so much like me back then.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cShe still does.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Folks in town used to say my daughter Rebecca had her mama\u2019s whole face.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cExcept those green eyes,\u201d I said. \u201cThey always made her stand out.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Carol looked away. \u201cThey certainly did.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
She looked so much like me back then.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
My wife was quiet for a moment. \u201cYour mother would\u2019ve loved seeing her grown.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I thought of my mother, Ruth, dead ten years now.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Half of Millfield still called her a saint. She\u2019d taught Sunday school for forty years and never missed a casserole for a grieving neighbor.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cMama would\u2019ve spoiled her rotten.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Carol\u2019s fingers tightened around mine. \u201cWalt, I\u2019ve been a good wife to you, haven\u2019t I?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Half of Millfield still called her a saint.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The question caught me sideways. \u201cYou\u2019ve been the best thing that ever happened to me.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Her eyes filled. \u201cI need you to promise me something. Say yes before I tell you what it is.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
After thirty-six years, I didn\u2019t hesitate.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cAnything.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Carol drew a slow breath. \u201cFind Anna, please. You\u2019ll understand everything once you find her. And please\u2026 forgive me in advance.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I need you to promise me something.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The name landed like a stone dropped in still water.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Anna.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
A girl I hadn\u2019t seen in forty years.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cCarol, what are you talking about? Anna who? What do you need me to forgive?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
She only shook her head, the smallest motion, and her lips pressed together as if the words themselves might undo her.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
A nurse appeared at the door, quiet and firm, and told me Carol needed to rest.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
A girl I hadn\u2019t seen in forty years.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I bent, kissed my wife\u2019s forehead, and stepped into the hallway with my heart hammering against my ribs.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Three days later, Carol was gone.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The house on Maple Street felt hollow in a way I had never known a house could feel.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Her reading glasses still sat on the arm of the recliner. Her half-finished crossword lay on the kitchen table.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Find Anna.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Three days later, Carol was gone.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The thing was, she had been my first love. I proposed to Anna in 1985.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Her answer had come in a letter.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u2018I can\u2019t follow you, Walt. Not with you moving away. Please don\u2019t come looking for me.\u2019<\/p>\n\n\n\n
For forty years, I\u2019d believed Anna.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
For two weeks, I tried to convince myself Carol had been medicated, half-dreaming.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
But every night I heard her voice. \u2018Forgive me in advance.\u2019<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Forgive her for what?<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u2018I can\u2019t follow you, Walt.\u2019<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I searched old college groups until one classmate gave me the number of Diane, one of Anna\u2019s closest friends back then.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The moment I said Anna\u2019s name, she went quiet. \u201cI have nothing to say to you about that.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
She hung up.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
A week later, Diane called back. \u201cAnna\u2019s sister married a man from Pittsburgh.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cYou know her name?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cI remember the married name.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I have nothing to say to you about that.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cGive it to me.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Three calls later, a woman answered.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cHello?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I closed my eyes. Even after four decades, I knew that voice.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cAnna? This is Walter.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
There was a long, breathing silence on the other end of the line.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I knew that voice.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cWalter,\u201d she finally said. \u201cMy God.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cAnna, could I come see you?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cAfter forty years?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cI know how that sounds. But Carol asked me to find you before she died. I need to understand why.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
She was quiet for a moment. \u201cWhen?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cWhenever you\u2019re comfortable.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Another pause. \u201cSaturday.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Carol asked me to find you.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
***<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Saturday, I drove four hours to Pittsburgh with Carol\u2019s ring in my pocket.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I sat outside Anna\u2019s house for nearly an hour before I knocked.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The door opened, and there she was.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Her hair had gone silver, and there were soft lines at the corners of her mouth, but her eyes were exactly the eyes I remembered.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
There she was.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
For some reason, they struck me as familiar in a way that had nothing to do with forty years ago.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I couldn\u2019t place it.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cWalter.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cAnna. I\u2019m sorry to appear like this out of nowhere. My wife, Carol. She passed away a few weeks ago. Before she died, she asked me to find you.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Something flickered across Anna\u2019s face.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Recognition. Sorrow. A kind of tired understanding.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I couldn\u2019t place it.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cYes, I think I know why.\u201d She stepped back from the door. \u201cCome in, Walter. You\u2019d better sit down.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Anna poured two coffees with shaking hands.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cWhat did Carol want me to know?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
She sat across from me. \u201cThat I never turned you down because you moved.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
My chest went cold. \u201cThen why?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I think I know why.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cYour mother came to my apartment. Spring of 1985. She wore that gray coat with the fur collar, do you remember it?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cI remember.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cShe sat on my sofa,\u201d Anna went on, \u201cand she told me I was unsuitable. Wrong background. Wrong family. Wrong future for her son.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I set my mug down carefully, because my hand was shaking. \u201cMy mom said that?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cShe said more than that.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Your mother came to my apartment.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cWhat did she threaten you with?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cShe threatened to get Dad fired when my parents were already barely making ends meet. My sister was about to marry a good man, and Ruth threatened to ruin her reputation.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cShe couldn\u2019t have done that.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Anna held my eyes. \u201cCouldn\u2019t she?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I had no answer.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cEveryone in Millfield listened to Ruth.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
What did she threaten you with?<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cMy mother.\u201d My voice sounded far away. \u201cMy mother taught Sunday school.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cYour mother had power,\u201d Anna said softly. \u201cAnd she used it on a twenty-year-old girl whose family had nothing.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cSo the letter you sent me,\u201d I said. \u201cThe one where you said you couldn\u2019t do the distance.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cI wrote it that night. I cried the whole way through it.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cWhat happened to you after that? Did you marry?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Your mother had power.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Anna shook her head. \u201cNo.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cChildren?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cNo. There was never anyone else I could imagine that life with.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I looked down at my coffee. Forty years suddenly felt even longer.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Forty years, and I\u2019d believed she simply hadn\u2019t loved me enough. \u201cWhy didn\u2019t you come to me? Even after you left?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Did you marry?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Anna looked down at her hands. \u201cI found out I was pregnant three weeks later.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I stared at her. \u201cWhat?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cI was pregnant, Walter.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The room seemed to tilt.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
A child. Mine and Anna\u2019s.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
For forty years, I\u2019d believed I\u2019d only lost her.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I found out I was pregnant.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cYou were carrying MY CHILD?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cYes.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cWhat happened to the baby?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Anna looked away. \u201cI gave her up.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cWhy?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cI was twenty, alone, and terrified. Your mother had convinced me you didn\u2019t want me anymore. She said the baby would have a better life with a family who could give her what I couldn\u2019t.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cI gave her up.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cAnd you believed her?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cI didn\u2019t think I had another choice.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
My chest tightened. \u201cWhere is she now?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cI don\u2019t know.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I thought that was the revelation that would change everything.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I had no idea Anna had only begun.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I didn\u2019t think I had another choice.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cYou never tried to tell me?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cI tried. I went to your mother\u2019s house. I thought the baby might make her accept us and help me reach you.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cWhat happened?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cRuth wouldn\u2019t give me your number. She reminded me what would happen to my family if I contacted you.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cThat\u2019s why you disappeared?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I went to your mother\u2019s house.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cThat \u2013 and what she told me next.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cWhat?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cThat you\u2019d already moved on.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cWith who?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cCarol.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I stared at her. \u201cYou knew about Carol?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
That \u2013 and what she told me next.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cOnly what Ruth told me.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cThat we\u2019d already started something?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Anna nodded. \u201cShe said you\u2019d chosen Carol before I\u2019d even left town.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cBut that wasn\u2019t true.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cI know that now.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Anna hesitated. \u201cThere\u2019s more.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
You\u2019d chosen Carol.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
My stomach tightened. \u201cWhat?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cCarol was there that day.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cAt my mother\u2019s house?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cYes. She\u2019d stopped by with a casserole. Ruth thought she\u2019d already left, but she was still in the parlor.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I stared at her. \u201cCarol heard what my mother said to you?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cEvery word.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Carol was there that day.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cHow do you know?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cBecause she told me. About fifteen years ago, she tracked me down through my sister and sent me a letter. I never answered.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
My throat tightened. \u201cSo she knew why you left.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cYes.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cAnd all those years ago, she watched me believe you\u2019d walked away because you didn\u2019t want me.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
So she knew why you left.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Anna looked down at her hands. \u201cI\u2019m sorry.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cShe said nothing\u2026 And then she married me.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cI\u2019ve wondered for forty years whether she ever told you.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cShe didn\u2019t.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I could not speak.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cI\u2019m not telling you to hate her,\u201d Anna whispered. \u201cI\u2019m telling you because your wife sent you here, and I think she wanted you to finally know.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
And then she married me.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I looked at her. \u201cAnna, did you ever try to find our daughter?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cOf course I thought about it.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cBut did you look?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cI couldn\u2019t. It was a private adoption. I didn\u2019t know the family\u2019s name, where they lived \u2013 anything.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Something clicked into place. \u201cMy mother arranged it.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Anna frowned. \u201cWhat?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Did you ever try to find our daughter?<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cIf anyone kept records, she did.\u201d I pushed back from the table. \u201cI think I know where to look.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I stood too fast. The chair scraped against the linoleum.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cWalter.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cI\u2019m sorry. I have to go.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
One thought followed me all the way home.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Carol hadn\u2019t asked me to forgive my mother. She\u2019d asked me to forgive her.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
So what had Carol done?<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I think I know where to look.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
***<\/p>\n\n\n\n
By dawn, I was in my mother\u2019s attic.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
At the bottom of a box, I found a taped shoebox.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
PRIVATE. DO NOT OPEN.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Inside were yellowed letters exchanged with a woman named Marjorie.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I read the first one twice before the words made sense.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I found a taped shoebox.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u2018Dear Ruth, the young woman arrived Tuesday. She is nearly six months along. She still asks whether Walter knows about the child. I assured her, as you instructed, that contacting him would only make matters worse.\u2019<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The next was dated four months later.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u2018The girl has finally signed the surrender papers. She remains convinced Walter has begun a new life and does not want to be contacted.\u2019<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I stopped breathing. But Anna hadn\u2019t been the only person my mother had lied to.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Then I found one dated four months later.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The girl has finally signed the surrender papers.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u2018A local couple has come forward for the private placement. Carol seems especially eager. I understand Walter has been told only that the birth mother requested a closed adoption. Discretion will be maintained as you requested.\u2019<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I sank against the attic wall.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Rebecca. My daughter Rebecca.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Anna\u2019s eyes. Rebecca had Anna\u2019s eyes.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
All those years, I\u2019d looked into them without knowing whose they were.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Rebecca. My daughter Rebecca.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Then I found an envelope in handwriting I knew better than my own.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Carol\u2019s.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
It was addressed to my mother.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u2018Ruth, I can\u2019t keep doing this. Walter still believes Anna left because she stopped loving him. I heard what you said to her that day, and I should have told him then. I didn\u2019t. Part of me was afraid that if he knew the truth, he\u2019d go after her.\u2019<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I had to stop reading.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I can\u2019t keep doing this.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u2018Now there\u2019s a baby involved. You keep telling me Anna has signed the papers and wants the child placed somewhere else, but that doesn\u2019t make what we did right. If Walter ever learns the truth, he\u2019ll never forgive either of us.\u2019<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Below it, in my mother\u2019s handwriting, were four words.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u2018Then make sure he doesn\u2019t.\u2019<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I couldn\u2019t tell Anna over the phone.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
He\u2019ll never forgive either of us.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
***<\/p>\n\n\n\n
It was past eleven when I knocked on her door again, the letters in my hand.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cShe\u2019s alive,\u201d I said when Anna opened the door. \u201cI found our daughter.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
She froze. \u201cYou found her?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cHer name is Rebecca.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cRebecca?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cMy Rebecca. The daughter Carol and I adopted.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I found our daughter.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Anna covered her mouth. \u201cOh my God.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cShe has a good life.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cFamily?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cTwo boys.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Anna covered her mouth. \u201cI\u2019m a grandmother.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cYes.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
She has a good life.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
She sank onto the porch step, crying. I sat beside her until she finally wiped her face. \u201cDoes she know about me?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cNo.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cAre you going to tell her?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Rebecca had buried Carol only weeks ago. Now I had to tell her that her mother had hidden the truth of her birth for thirty-eight years.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cI don\u2019t know how.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I\u2019m a grandmother.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Anna looked at the letters. \u201cNeither did Carol, apparently.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cWhat if it destroys everything Rebecca remembers about her?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cWalter, your mother decided what I was allowed to know. Carol decided what you were allowed to know.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I looked at the letters. \u201cAnd now I\u2019d be deciding for Rebecca.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cYes.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Neither did Carol, apparently.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
***<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The next morning, I drove to Columbus and put the letters on Rebecca\u2019s kitchen table.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cDad, what is this?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cSomething your mother should\u2019ve told us years ago.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cUs?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cRebecca, my first love, Anna, is your biological mother. And I\u2019m your biological father.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
She stared at me. \u201cWhat are you talking about?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Dad, what is this?<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cRead the letters.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
By the second one, her hands were shaking. \u201cMom knew?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cYes.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Rebecca wiped her eyes. \u201cWas she trying to protect me?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cMaybe at first. But after a while, I think she was protecting herself too.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cDid she love me?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Read the letters.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cEvery single day.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Rebecca was quiet. \u201cDoes Anna know about me?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cShe knows everything.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cDoes she want to meet me?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cMore than anything.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
She swallowed. \u201cI want to meet her. Soon.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Does Anna know about me?<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cYou should.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Rebecca studied me. \u201cAre you okay with that?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cI\u2019ve had enough people deciding what\u2019s best for someone else.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
She reached for my hand.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cSo have I.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
For the first time since Carol died, I didn\u2019t feel like I was carrying her secret alone. There was still pain ahead \u2013 for Rebecca, for Anna, for me \u2013 but at least it would belong to the truth.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I still loved Carol.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Thirty-six years didn\u2019t disappear because I knew the truth.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
But I wouldn\u2019t mistake silence for protection again.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
My wife was dying when she asked me to find Anna, the woman who had rejected my proposal 40 years ago. I kept my promise \u2013 but Anna\u2019s first words made me question my entire marriage. The hospital room smelled like antiseptic and the faint lavender lotion my wife, Carol, always kept in her purse. …<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":20775,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-20774","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-uncategorized"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/cehre.net\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/20774","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/cehre.net\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/cehre.net\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/cehre.net\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/cehre.net\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=20774"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/cehre.net\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/20774\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":20776,"href":"https:\/\/cehre.net\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/20774\/revisions\/20776"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/cehre.net\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/media\/20775"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/cehre.net\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=20774"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/cehre.net\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=20774"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/cehre.net\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=20774"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}