Most Precious Blood
“Me too,” she said.
“Okay,” Kit said. She walked to the kitchen, then came back almost instantly. “I forgot,” she said. “Pop got home so late yesterday we didn’t buy any groceries. There’s a can of frozen lemonade, if you want me to make that instead.”
“Sounds good,” Malcolm said.
“I don’t know how Mother missed it,” Kit called from the kitchen. “She went through the freezer. She found an ice cream carton and threw it into the broom closet. That was a mess to clean up, let me tell you.”
“I wish you’d called me,” Malcolm said. “I would have gathered up some guys from my dorm, and we could have had a scrubbing party.”
Kit brought in the pitcher of lemonade and three unmatched glasses. “Next time,” she said.
Val stared at them. She’d never seen Kit talk to anyone that way, except herself. Kit couldn’t keep her mother’s problems a secret, Amanda saw to that, but she didn’t go around advertising them.
“It’s okay,” Kit said to Val. “Malcolm’s a trusty.”
Val smiled. She hadn’t heard Kit use that term in years. A trusty was one of the rare people Kit found trustworthy. Val was one, and her mother had been until her death. Jamey was another, and Sister Angela, their third-grade teacher. It was a short list. Malcolm should be honored to be on it.
“I take that as a compliment,” he said, picking up one of the lemonade glasses and drinking from it.
“It is,” Val said. “Maybe Kit’ll even let you scrub next time.”
“Have you heard anything from your mother?” Malcolm asked.
Kit shook her head. “Pop called the clinic yesterday, to make sure she was okay, but she isn’t allowed to talk to anybody for the first few days. I’m not sure if that’s for her sake or ours.”
“How’s Jamey dealing with it?” Malcolm asked.
“I’m not sure,” Kit replied. “He’s avoiding it, he’s avoiding me. I’m sorry, Malcolm. I really didn’t ask you over to unload all this on you.”
“I can deal with it,” he said. “I come from the stable side of the family, remember.” He turned, and smiled at Val. “Do you have one of those?” he asked. “A stable family?”
“Val’s the one I told you about,” Kit said.
“You told him about me?” Val asked. “What exactly did you tell him?”
“Calm down,” Malcolm said. “Kit just told me you’d found out recently that you were adopted. That’s all. I’m adopted, so she wanted to talk with me. Get a few pointers in the adoption game, that’s all.”
“Wasn’t Caroline enough for one day?” Val cried. “Do I have to talk to him too?”
“I didn’t invite Caroline to our table,” Kit said. “And if you remember correctly, I didn’t invite you here either. I told you it wasn’t a good idea, but you insisted on coming over anyway. Remember?”
Val nodded. “I’m sorry,” she said. “If you want, I’ll go.”
“Only if you want,” Kit said. “Malcolm, I hope you don’t mind. Val only found out yesterday, I’m not even sure of all the details, and she had a rough time at school today.”
“I’ll bet,” Malcolm said. “Have you spoken to your parents about it? Is that how you found out?”
“My mother’s dead,” Val replied. “My father’s out of town on business. My cousin Michelle told me yesterday at school. She was angry, and it just came out.”
“Then you can’t be sure it is true,” Malcolm declared. “Maybe she lied.”
“She didn’t,” Val said. “I found a letter my mother wrote me. She wanted me to read it on my eighteenth birthday. It’s all about how she wanted a baby and couldn’t have one, so my father brought me to her.”
“What?” Malcolm said. “That isn’t how people adopt.”
“That isn’t how Caroline O’Mara got adopted, that’s for sure,” Val said. “Her parents waited five years before the agency found them a baby. No shortcuts for them.”
“There’s nothing wrong with shortcuts,” Malcolm said. “I’m gray market myself, although my parents wouldn’t appreciate the term. They wanted a baby, and my mom’s doctor knew about a girl who was pregnant and didn’t feel she could raise her child by herself, so my parents offered to adopt. And that’s why I’m Malcolm Scott and not Joe Bloke.”
“Maybe that’s what your mother meant,” Kit said. “In her letter.”
Val shook her head. “Mama didn’t know anything about me,” she said. “She called me a gift. Like I was something my father went to a store and bought.”
“I don’t know anything about your father,” Malcolm said. “But that’s just not how adoptions work. At least not legal adoptions.”
“So how can you be sure it was legal?” Val asked. “Maybe it wasn’t.”
“Jamey’s your father’s lawyer, right?” Malcolm said. “He wouldn’t let one of his clients do anything like that, would he, Kit.”
“What exactly did Caroline say to you?” Kit asked.
“You must know,” Val said. “You must have heard it too. Where I came from was the hot topic in school today.”
“I don’t understand any of this,” Malcolm said. “I can see where people would be interested to find out someone’s adopted, especially if they didn’t know. I never told a lot of people, and when anyone found out, I had to go through the inquisition all over again. But nobody speculated about where I came from. Not even me. At least not in public.”
Val stared at her glass of lemonade. “I hate lemonade,” she said. “Why did you bring me any?”
“Sorry,” Kit said. “I forgot.” She moved the glass away from Val.
“Castaladi,” Malcolm said. “Isn’t there a crime family named Castaladi?”
“My father’s a businessman,” Val said. “He owns a construction business.”
Malcolm turned to Kit. “What kind of law does your father do, anyway?”
“He won’t end up on the Supreme Court, if that’s what you’re asking,” Kit replied.
Malcolm grinned. “When I came out east to college, my parents warned me about the sorts of people I’d meet,” he said. “But I’ve got to say, the two of you look pretty harmless.”
“My father is not a criminal,” Val said. “All my life I’ve had to put up with whispers. Kit knows what it’s been like. Half the girls at Most Precious Blood won’t have anything to do with me. Her either, for that matter, just because her father’s my father’s lawyer.”
“That stinks,” Malcolm said. “Why’d your parents put up with that?”
Val fell silent.
“I don’t think Val’s mother understood what it was like,” Kit replied slowly. “She was really kind of sheltered, mostly did things with her family. And Val’s father took those kinds of slights for granted. I think he assumed it was part of getting a good education.”
“And your parents?” Malcolm asked.
“It drove my mother crazy,” Kit said. “Among other things. And Pop just figures if Kevin and I are the best, the world will come to us in due course.”
“I’m sorry,” Malcolm said. “There was one kid I knew who used to really go at me because I was adopted. Claimed that meant for sure I was illegitimate, which I assume I am, but what’s the big deal. He called me a bastard once too often, and I broke his nose.”
“Really?” Kit asked.
Malcolm grinned. “The only time in my life I ever got into a fight,” he said. “Lucky punch. My parents were hysterical. I wasn’t allowed TV for two weeks, but it was worth it. At least he stopped calling me a bastard where I could hear him.”
“That’s what Michelle said I was,” Val said. “My father’s bastard, who he just brought home for my mother to raise.”
“I don’t think so,” Kit said. “Rick always seemed to love your mother. I can’t see him cheating on her like that, let alone making her raise his kid without even telling her.”
“Maybe your father hired a surrogate to have a child,” Malcolm suggested. “She
could have been impregnated by artificial insemination. It’s a little strange that he didn’t tell your mother, but it was probably legal. Jamey might well have handled the paperwork.”
Val thought about it. “Do you realize that’s the best possible explanation?” she said. “That’s how pathetic things are right now, that I’m relieved at the thought he hired a surrogate without telling Mama.”
“Are there other alternatives?” Malcolm asked. “Besides your cousin Michelle’s version.”
“Plenty,” Val said. “At least according to Caroline.” She felt better knowing there was another explanation, one without violence or betrayal. “The girls at school think maybe I was kidnapped. Snatched so my parents could have a child to raise. Or maybe they had my parents killed.” She felt tears welling in her eyes. “I’m sorry,” she said. “It’s just I always knew who my parents were, and now I don’t know anything anymore.”
Kit ran to the kitchen and brought back an unopened box of tissues. Val tore it open, and pulled a tissue out. It felt strange to cry in front of Malcolm, but she knew it was okay. He was a trusty. Kit said so.
“Do your parents love you?” Malcolm asked her.
Val nodded.
“Then it can’t be too bad,” Malcolm said. “Whatever the explanation is, I’m sure it’s all perfectly legal.”
“Do you think so?” Val asked Kit. “You know my father. Do you think he could have just stolen me?”
“I can’t answer that,” Kit said. “I don’t have as high an opinion of parents as the two of you do. They’re just adults with children, and adults do strange things.”
“You’re wrong,” Val said. “Not about your parents maybe, but about mine. Daddy’s a businessman. He’s not responsible for what his father used to do, what his brother might do. He builds buildings. He’s built half the condos in this town. He doesn’t kill people or kidnap them, and I won’t have anyone saying otherwise.”
“Good,” Malcolm said. “That’s settled. Now maybe we should talk about other things.”
But before they had a chance to find something safe to talk about, the doorbell rang. Kit got up and answered it.
“I need to talk to Val. Connie told me she was here.”
It was Terry. “I’m in here,” Val called from the living room. Terry followed Kit in.
“I’ve never been in here before,” Terry said. “It’s a nice house, Kit.”
“Thank you,” Kit said. “Terry, this is my cousin Malcolm. Malcolm, this is Terry Bellini. She’s Val’s father’s cousin’s wife.
“Pleased to meet you,” Malcolm said, getting up. Terry nodded at him.
“We need to talk, Val,” Terry said.
“We can talk here,” Val replied. “Malcolm and Kit know what’s going on.”
“Michelle went a little crazy yesterday,” Terry said. “Because of Sunday. She was upset about Sunday.”
Val examined Terry closely. She could see the remnants of a bruised eye under the heavy makeup. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I should have come over the way you wanted.”
“That’s water under the bridge,” Terry replied. “What’s important now is you.”
Terry had been her mother’s matron of honor, Val thought. Terry was one of who knew how many people in on her parents’ secret. Hell, Michelle had learned it from Terry and Bob. All the Castaladis knew, and so did her mother’s whole family. For sixteen years, they’d managed to keep it a secret from her.
“I’m all right,” Val said.
“Michelle had no right to tell you,” Terry said. “I don’t know how she knew. She must have overheard something once. I swear I never told her. I’m going to punish her, I just don’t know how yet. It has to be some way Bob doesn’t figure out. If he should hear, he’d go crazy.”
Val pictured Bob attacking Michelle. He would do it too, she knew, if he thought Michelle had caused a permanent rift between him and her father. Rather than think about it, she took a sip of the lemonade.
“I love you like a daughter, Val,” Terry said. “When your mother was dying, I promised her I’d look after you, see to it that you always had a family, had people you could turn to. And we’ve never once had a family occasion without asking you and Ricky first. You sit at our table. We share the same blood.”
“I don’t,” Val said. The words sounded harsh, artificial, but she had to say them, if for no other reason than to see Terry’s reaction.
Terry looked stricken. “Your parents love you,” she said. “Your mother would have cut out her heart for you. You couldn’t be more precious to your father if you were his own.”
“What do you want, Terry?” Kit asked.
“Have you told him?” Terry asked. “Does Rick know yet what Michelle did?”
“Not yet,” Val replied. “He’s still in Washington.”
Terry’s relief was visible. “Thank God,” she said. “Promise me you won’t tell him.”
“Wait a second,” Malcolm said. “I don’t mean to butt in here, but isn’t that between Val and her father?”
“You can’t tell him you found out from Michelle,” Terry said. “You want to talk to Ricky about it, I can’t stop you. Maybe you have a right to know. But I don’t know what he’ll do if he finds out Michelle’s responsible. Val, listen to me. Ricky could destroy us. He’ll know Michelle heard it from Bob and me. If he thinks we’ve hurt you in any way …” She began to sob.
Malcolm looked stunned. Kit tossed the box of tissues over to Terry.
“I can’t make any promises,” Val said. “Not until I know just how I was adopted. Tell me the truth, Terry, and I won’t have to talk to my father.”
“I don’t know the truth,” Terry said. “None of us do. Your parents wanted a baby, your mother was sick with grief she didn’t have one. One day, your father brings one home. He never offers any explanation where the baby came from, not to your mother or to Bob, or to anybody I know. He must have told his father. But I don’t think anybody else knows. He’s head of the house. It’s no one else’s business.”
“That’s crazy,” Malcolm said. “Adoptions simply don’t work that way.”
Terry ignored him. “Your father’s a hard man,” she said to Val. “I know to you he’s your daddy, he loves you and gives you things. You go sailing together. But he takes what he wants, and he doesn’t care who he hurts. And if someone hurts him, he destroys them. I don’t know how he got you, and I don’t want to know. If you know what’s good for you, you won’t want to know either. And if he should find out Michelle’s involved, he’ll hurt her somehow, an accident to her or me or Bob. I’m begging you, Val. Don’t tell him how you found out. You’ll keep the whole business to yourself if you’re smart. But if you can’t do that, at least don’t tell him Michelle’s to blame. What happens to her, to us, will be on your head.”
“I think that’s enough,” Kit said. “You made your speech, Terry. Val’s heard you.”
“It’s all right,” Val said. “I promise I’ll leave all of you out of it.”
Terry ran over to her and kissed her. Val’s face grew wet from Terry’s tears. “You’re a good girl, Val,” she said. “Your mama loved you from the moment she saw you.”
Val nodded. She watched as Terry blew her nose, then said goodbye to all of them, and left the room. Kit followed her out.
“I’m sorry,” Val said to Malcolm. “I don’t know what you must think.”
“I don’t know what I think either,” he said. “Except that if I were you, I’d go see Jamey and make sure everything is on the up and up before I saw your father.”
Val nodded. “I’ll go now,” she said. “While I’m still too scared not to.”
Chapter 6
“Are you sure Jamey doesn’t know what’s going on?” Val asked as she put her jacket on.
Kit sighed. “For the hundredth time, he doesn’t know,” she replied. “He got in after midnight last night. When he saw my light on, he peeked in and apologized for leaving me with the m
ess. That was the extent of our conversation. He was still sleeping when I left for school this morning. He doesn’t suspect a thing.”
“All right,” Val said. “I just have the feeling I’ll get a straighter answer from him if I catch him unawares.”
“He’ll be shocked,” Kit said. “I guarantee it.”
“I’m not wild about leaving you alone,” Malcolm said to Kit. “We haven’t really talked.”
“Some other time,” Kit said. “Give Val a lift to Pop’s, then go back to school. I still have a ton of homework to catch up with, and then I have to make supper.”
“You sure?” Malcolm asked.
“Positive,” Kit replied. “Now get out, both of you.”
Val and Malcolm left the house. Malcolm kept looking back as they walked toward his car.
“Kit’s okay,” Val told him as he unlocked the doors. “She deals better with things alone.”
“She has a lot to deal with,” Malcolm said.
“She’s used to it,” Val replied. “This isn’t the first Amanda crisis. I doubt it’ll be the last.”
Malcolm pulled out of his parking space and began the short drive to Jamey’s office. “The two of you have been friends for long?” he asked.
“Since birth,” Val replied, but then she laughed. “Since shortly after birth. Nothing’s since birth anymore.”
“You must really be shaken up,” he said.
Val nodded. “I’m so confused I don’t know what I feel anymore,” she said. “I love my father. I can’t believe all those things people have been saying, but I can’t believe him either. Not the way I used to. I keep thinking this is all a bad dream, that I’ll wake up and it’ll be Monday morning, and none of this will have happened.”
“I had a dog that died a couple of years ago,” Malcolm said. “An Irish setter. We’d had him for seven years. I took him out for a walk, and I don’t know, something made him run into the street and a car hit him. It was a week before I really believed he was dead. I kept thinking it was a bad dream, even though I saw it happen.”
Val was silent.