A Secret Uncovered

Theo drove slowly. It had begun raining heavily, making visibility beyond a few hundred feet along Seventh Avenue difficult, if not impossible. “The lawns may like April showers. Me, not so much,” he grumbled. “Why didn’t it do this yesterday, when I could have stayed home, instead of waiting until Monday afternoon?” He wouldn’t have been out in the rain if he didn’t have to get some important information from his mother’s house that she needed and had somehow managed to forget while packing for her trip—a working vacation in the Virgin Islands. If you can call running a tour in an exotic locale work. Theo would have envied her, except he didn’t particularly like traveling. He was quite content to remain behind to take care of the day-to-day business of running Imagination Tours, Inc., the travel agency Donna Speer and her husband had created. Gary Speer had died of a massive heart attack a year previously, when Theo was twenty-four, leaving behind his wife, son, and the company. Because she had no head for the business end of it—having left that up to her husband—Theo had stepped in to help when his mother decided to keep the agency open. It resulted in his becoming her assistant since he’d majored in business while in college. At least she didn’t forget her passport. He smiled at that idea. She had her ditzy moments, as he thought of it, but until today she’d never headed to the airport without checking to be certain she had all the paperwork she needed to travel outside the country. She had called him in a panic when she got to her hotel in Charlotte Amalie. “I know I had the information printed out and in a folder, ready to pack, but I can’t find it. It has the itinerary I need for the tour.” “Knowing you, you were working on it at home and the folder is sitting on your desk, somehow mixed in with all the other things you plan on filing…someday,” he’d replied, shaking his head. “I’ll find it and email you a copy of the information. By the way, why isn’t it all in a file folder on your computer here at the office?” He knew it wasn’t because he’d been at work when she’d called and had checked. She’d sighed, replying, “I meant to do that but…” He could envision her shrugging. “Like you said, I did put it together at home and I was going to send it to work. Honest.” He’d laughed. “Mom, I swear, what am I going to do with you?” “Love me, in spite of everything?” “You know I do. Okay, I’ll head to the house. You should get it soon.” The rain was starting to let up when he turned onto the side street beside her house in the Congress Park neighborhood. He parked and made a mad dash to the rear door, letting himself into the pantry. After shaking off the water from his hair and hanging up his jacket, he went to her office, which was off the living room. As he’d suspected, the desk was covered with papers and folders. Shuffling through them, he found the one he needed. Then, deciding to be a good son, and because it chafed at his need for order, he resolved to put the rest of the folders away in her file cabinets—but not until after he located the original copy of the itinerary on her computer and emailed it to her. Five minutes later, she replied, promising him the world as a reward for finding it. “Just buy me the Maserati I’ve been dreaming about,” he replied. It was an old joke between them so he wasn’t surprised when her return email contained a ‘laugh’ emoji followed by one of a hand with the middle finger raised. Grinning, he closed his email and set to work straightening up her desk. The majority of the folders contained information on the various destinations for the tours the agency offered. A quick glance at a couple of them told him they were copies of what she had at work, which she kept at home as well because she was a night owl and did some of her best planning well after the agency closed for the day. He found the drawers they belonged in, in one of the cabinets across from her desk, and put them away. Two folders held lists of clients who used the agency on a regular basis. After checking to see if the same information was on her computer, and then emailing it to work on the off chance she hadn’t duplicated the lists there, he filed them, as well. “Not that you’re a scatterbrain, Mom,” he said under his breath. “But organization was more Dad’s thing, and now it’s my job.” There was one folder left, which had been buried under the others. She’d titled it ‘Legal’, so he checked to see what it contained, discovering it was his father’s will and the papers the lawyer had drawn up to transfer the company solely into her name after his death. “Okay, which drawer do you use for personal stuff?” he muttered, as he didn’t remember seeing one for that in the file cabinets. It took him a moment to realize that she had probably continued his father’s tradition of keeping them locked in the bottom desk drawer—when she isn’t leaving it lying around on her desk. He knew where the key was kept, in an inrō which was stored inside a decorative box on one of the bookshelves beside the desk. She’d picked both of them up in Japan while she and his father were on their honeymoon. When he was growing up, the drawer had been off-limits. As tempted as he’d been at times to find out why, he’d honored his father’s wishes. Now, he got the key, opened the drawer, and put the file away. As he did, he saw there was one with his name on it. Curious, he took it out. What he found would forever change his life. * * * * Theo’s hands were shaking when he closed the folder. At first he figured it would contain the normal things any parent kept in relation to their child, which it did—a photocopy of his birth certificate, since he had the original, school and medical records, his high school diploma, pictures of him growing up. Then, he saw the last paper and his eyes widened in disbelief. It was the certificate for his adoption. His first thought was it had to be a mistake, until he read it through again. The top line was for the child’s birth name, date of birth, s*x, and place of birth. The first three boxes were filled in. The last one for place of birth had probably been as well, but it was blacked out, as was his birth surname. The second line was for the names of the birth mother and father. The mother’s given name, Lilliana Nichole, was there, but her surname had been blacked out, and the place for the father’s name was blank. The space for the hospital where he’d been born and the birth certificate number had also been blacked out. “Someone got good use out of their Sharpie,” he said with an aggravated shake of his head. The rest of the form had spaces for his new name, Theodore James Speer, his parents’ names, birthdates, and their home address at the time, but with the city and state obliterated. The date the adoption was finalized, and the signature of the probate judge and county clerk who had certified it, as well as the date they’d signed the form, were also blacked out. My real parents, whoever they were, named me Thomas Jeffery something. Damn it to hell, why didn’t Mom and Dad tell me? Why did they mark out anything that would let me know who I was before the adoption? His hands curled into fists as he considered the implications. “Maybe my birth parents were criminals? Or she was raped and she didn’t know who my father was and Mom and Dad didn’t want me to feel less because of that? Or she came from a rich family and they threw her out because she wasn’t married when she got pregnant? Or…who the hell knows? Mom would.” He took out his phone to call her and then thought better of it. Not until I calm down because right now all I’d do is yell at her, I’m that pissed off. Opening the folder again, he took out the Certificate of Adoption, turned on the printer, and made a copy. As he did, he realized the top of the form was missing. The part that would have told him where, in what city and state, the official adoption had taken place. “Meaning it probably wasn’t here,” he said under his breath. He put the original back where he’d found it, returned the folder to the drawer, locked it, and put the key away. “What do I do now?” he asked himself as he folded the paper and put it into his wallet. He knew the answer, but he’d wait until morning to call his mother. When I can talk without blowing up. * * * * As soon as he got home, he read the Certificate of Adoption again before putting it into the folder where he kept his personal information such as insurance papers, his passport, and what he’d always believed was his birth certificate. The passport isn’t legal because for sure the birth certificate is a fake. How did Dad manage that? Not that Theo intended to let anyone know. He needed the passport for the few times he had to accompany his mother on one of the larger tours. Then, still angry, but not as badly so, he made supper. After cleaning up he forced himself to watch a movie until he was tired enough he hoped he could get some sleep. It worked, up to a point, although he tossed and turned for a while as he tried to decide how to approach his mother with what he’d discovered. Tuesday morning he awoke knowing what he was going to do—or not do. The more he thought about it, the more he knew why they had never told him. He was certain it had to do with the fact that his father had been adopted, too. He’d told Theo more than once about what had happened when, at the age of ten, his parents had finally told him. “I hated them for the longest time for keeping it a secret. It made me feel as if they thought I was too stupid to understand, or that I wasn’t as good, I suppose, as I would have been if I was their natural child. It took me a long while to realize they were afraid that…well, that I’d react the way I did, I guess. Of course because they’d waited so long it made it seem worse than it was, at least in my mind. If they’d told me when I was young, and made a big thing about how they had chosen me because I was special, I’d have accepted it with no problem.” Then why didn’t you do that for me, Dad? You knew what it was like. Unless…There must be something about my birth parents you didn’t want me to know. Is that why there’s stuff blacked out on the adoption certificate? Whether it was that or something else, Theo decided not to let his mother know that he’d found out. It would only upset her, which he wasn’t willing to do. She loves me. She’s always treated me as if I was her own, and I suppose I am except by birth. They both did. I’m not going to take the chance of destroying the love we have for each other. Despite his decision, he knew what needed to happen, for his own personal satisfaction, he supposed. That was to try to find out who his real—No, not real. Mom and Dad are my real parents. They always have been. I want to find out who my birth mother was, and why she gave me up.