“Not at first.”
His voice was low.
“I didn’t even know you had been adopted until years after it happened.”
The diner seemed to shrink around me.
Richard placed the old photograph on the table between us.
“Catherine and I were young when you were born.
We weren’t married, but I knew about you.
I held you.
I changed diapers badly.
I used to walk you around the apartment at two in the morning because it was the only way you’d sleep.”
My throat tightened.
Gerald had always told the story differently.
According to him, I had been abandoned by two irresponsible people who wanted nothing to do with me.
He had repeated it whenever I complained.
You should be grateful.
Nobody wanted you.
We took you in.
Richard continued.
“Catherine and I separated.
Not peacefully.
She moved, and I lost contact.
Then I was told she had died.”
He stopped.
The grief on his face was old, not theatrical.
“What happened to me?” I asked.
“I spent years trying to learn that.”
Margaret slid one page toward me.
“Richard eventually discovered that you had entered the adoption system and had been placed with Gerald and Donna Talbet.
By then, years had passed.”
“Why didn’t you just come get me?”
Richard flinched.
“Because biology doesn’t let a person walk into a child’s home and remove her.
There were legal orders.
Adoption records.
Procedures.
We had to prove who I was and what rights, if any, remained.”
“And this letter?”
Margaret tapped the envelope.
“This was sent after one of Richard’s petitions produced enough information to request formal contact.
Because you were approaching adulthood, the purpose was not to remove you from the Talbets.
It was to notify them that your biological father had been identified and was seeking a lawful path to contact you.”
I stared at Gerald’s name near the bottom.
“Did he receive it?”
“We couldn’t prove that before tonight,” Margaret said.
“Mail records showed delivery to the residence.
Gerald later claimed he didn’t remember receiving anything.”
I laughed once.
It sounded ugly even to me.
“He remembered enough to hide it in a box.”
Richard looked toward the window.
The muscles in his jaw moved.
“How long have you had it?”
“Months.”
“Did Gerald know you found it?”
“I don’t think so.”
Margaret leaned back.
