Chapter 8 — Roderick Makes the Call Himself
Roderick sat alone in his study that evening.
Celestine remained downstairs with Eudora.
He held Mara’s letter.
Then entered her number.
He stared at the screen for almost a minute.
Finally pressed call.
It rang twice.
Then:
“Hello?”
A woman’s voice.
Roderick could not speak.
“Hello?”
He swallowed.
“Mara?”
Silence.
Then a sharp breath.
“Yes.”
“This is Roderick.”
The line went completely quiet.
He wondered if the call had dropped.
Then he heard her crying.
“I’m sorry.”
Roderick closed his eyes.
“Why are you apologizing?”
“Because I don’t know whether you wanted to know.”
Roderick looked at the adoption papers on his desk.
“I wanted the choice.”
Mara was silent.
Then:
“So did I.”
Those four words connected them more than either expected.
Roderick asked where she was.
She was at a hotel near the railway station.
Her train was scheduled for the following morning.
She had planned to return home several hundred miles away.
“Why didn’t you contact me directly again?”
“I wrote once.”
“Then Celestine contacted me.”
“After that, I thought it was your family’s decision how to proceed.”
Roderick frowned.
“It wasn’t my decision.”
“I know that now.”
He could hear the hurt in her voice.
He was angry at Celestine again.
But he did not use Mara as a weapon against his wife.
“Would you meet me tomorrow morning?”
Mara started crying again.
“Yes.”
“Public place.”
“Just us.”
“Anything you want.”
They agreed on a café.
Before ending the call, Mara said:
“Roderick?”
“Yes?”
“Do you remember me at all?”
He closed his eyes.
For years, he believed his memories of his baby sister were partly imaginary.
A white blanket.
A tiny hand.
His mother crying.
A toy rabbit.
Then a funeral nobody allowed him to attend because his parents said he was too young.
Except there had been no funeral.
“I remember loving someone they told me was gone.”
Mara cried quietly.
“That’s more than I expected.”
They ended the call.
Roderick sat alone.
Then Celestine appeared in the study doorway.
“Did you call her?”
“Yes.”
Celestine nodded.
“Are you meeting?”
“Tomorrow.”
She looked relieved.
Roderick noticed.
“Don’t.”
Celestine frowned.
“Don’t what?”
“Don’t act relieved as though your plan worked.”
Her expression collapsed.
“I didn’t mean—”
“You were right to verify whether she was who she claimed to be.”
“You were wrong to make the decision without me.”
Celestine nodded.
“I know.”
Roderick continued.
“And you were especially wrong to make Eudora protect your decision.”
“I know.”
“Then tell her that.”
Celestine looked toward him.
“Not ‘Mommy was protecting Daddy.’”
“Not ‘It was supposed to be a surprise.’”
“Tell her what happened.”
Celestine nodded.
That night, she sat beside Eudora and gave the apology Roderick had demanded.
But one question from their daughter exposed how frightening the secret had become for her.