“Fast-forward ten years,” Avery Parker continued, turning to face Elizabeth, her jaw tight. “A nurse from the unwed mothers home contacts the now-twenty-seven-year-old woman. Wants money for the truth. Tells her the baby didn’t die; rather, it, like all the other babies, had been put up for adoption. The only unusual thing: this child’s adoptive parents died in a tragic accident, then the child’s aunt died. The child was sent to a place called All Saints in Iowa.”
Elizabeth froze.
“That was the day,” Avery Parker said, her voice turning sad, “the young woman began her quest to find her son.” She paused. “My son.”
Elizabeth drew back, all the color draining from her face.
“I’m Calvin Evans’s biological mother,” Avery Parker said slowly, her gray eyes filling with tears. “And with your permission, Miss Zott, I’d very much like to meet my granddaughter.”
Chapter 44
The Acorn
It was as if all the air had been sucked out of the room. Elizabeth stared at Avery Parker, uncertain how to proceed. This couldn’t be true. Calvin’s own diary had revealed that his biological mother had died in childbirth.
“Miss Parker,” Elizabeth said carefully, as if picking her way across hot coals. “A lot of people have tried to take advantage of Calvin over the years. Many have even pretended to be long-lost family members. Your story is—” She stopped. She thought back to all the letters Calvin had kept. Sad Mother—she’d written to him several times. “If you knew he was in that boys home, why didn’t you go get him?”
“I did,” Avery Parker said. “Or rather, I sent Wilson. I’m ashamed to admit I wasn’t brave enough to go myself.” She got up and walked the length of the worktable. “You need to understand. I’d long ago accepted that my child was dead. Now to suddenly learn he was alive? I was afraid to get my hopes up. Like Calvin, I too have been a target for countless scams, including from dozens of people claiming to be my so-called relatives. So I sent Wilson,” she repeated, looking down at the floor as if reviewing this decision for the fiftieth time. “I sent him to All Saints the very next day.”
The vacuum pump started a new cycle, and with it a hissing sound filled the laboratory.
“And—” Elizabeth prodded.
“And,” Avery said, “the bishop informed Wilson that Calvin was…” She hesitated.
“Was what?” Elizabeth urged. “What?”
The older woman’s face sagged. “Dead.”
Elizabeth sat back, floored. The home needed money, the bishop saw an opportunity, there was a memorial fund. Facts came pouring out of the woman in a dull, lifeless rush.
“Have you ever lost a family member?” Avery suddenly asked in a flat voice.
“My brother.”
“Illness?”
“Suicide.”
“Oh god,” she said. “So you know what it is to feel responsible for someone’s death.”
Elizabeth tensed. The words fit snugly, like laces knotted twice. “But you didn’t kill Calvin,” she said with a heavy heart.
“No,” Parker said in a voice sick with remorse. “I did something much worse. I buried him.”
* * *
—
From the north side of the room, a timer beeped, and Elizabeth, trembling, went to shut it off. She turned to take in the woman standing at the chalkboard. She leaned to the right. Six-Thirty got up and went to Avery. He pressed his head against her thigh. I know what it’s like to fail a loved one.
“My parents had long funded unwed mothers homes and orphanages,” Avery continued, fiddling with the eraser. “They thought this made them good people. And yet thanks to their blind allegiance to the Catholic Church, they managed to make an orphan out of my son.” She paused. “I funded my son’s memorial before he was dead, Miss Zott,” she said, her breath shallow. “I buried him twice.”
Elizabeth felt a sudden wave of nausea.
“After Wilson returned from the boys home,” Avery continued, “I sank into a deep depression. I’d never had the chance to see my own son, never held him, never heard his voice. Worse, I had to live with the knowledge that he’d suffered. He’d lost me, then his parents, then he ended up in that garbage dump of a boys home. Each of these losses signed, sealed, and delivered in the name of the church.” She stopped abruptly, her face reddening. “YOU DON’T BELIEVE IN GOD FOR SCIENTIFIC REASONS, MISS ZOTT?” she suddenly exploded. “WELL, I DON’T BELIEVE IN GOD FOR PERSONAL REASONS.”