Chapter 16
Every family has a couple secrets. We learned our first one when we turned thirteen.
We were at the dinner table on a Friday evening; Dad had traded for a Sunday morning shift so he could be home to celebrate with us. Jess and I were admiring a pair of very cool Pulsar watches, the new digital kind. As always, Dad was asking about school.
“Typical day, not much to report,” Sis sighed.
“We did get Mr. Palmer off on an interesting tangent,” I said. “Spaz asked him where the name Palmer came from, implying something rude of course. He just says whatever he’s thinking at that moment, you know? But Mr. Palmer explained that it was French, for people who came back from the Holy Land with palm leaves. So it means a pilgrim.”
Jessie looked up. “What does Laine mean?”
“I don’t know that it means anything, but it’s very common in Finland.”
“How about Virtanen?” Jessie asked.
Dad paused. “Why do you ask?”
“My math teacher.” Her tone mimicked the teacher, who was a little bit snotty. “She told us her family is from France.”
“It must be her married name then. Virtanen’s a common Finnish name, too.”
“Well I’ve never heard it,” she said, still in the teacher’s voice.
“It was your Mom’s maiden name.”
“I thought her name was... oh, wait, she was Grampa Joe’s stepdaughter, wasn’t she?”
“That’s right. She was just two when he married Grandma Sophie. Her biological father was...” he drew out the name as if announcing an arrival to a formal ball, “Captain Cornelius Oliver Virtanen.”
“We’ve never met him, have we?” I asked.
“Met him? I’ve never even heard his name before.”
“I never met him either, Son, but we named you in his honor.”
“Dad, I’ve seen my birth certificate. It says Cory Mikael Laine right on it, nineteen sixty-seven.”
“We didn’t want you to get called Cornelius at the beginning of every school year, so we shortened it.”
“Oh, like Trina in my gym class,” Jessie said, hand on her cheek. “Her real name’s Latrina – like a bathroom!”
Dad winced. “Oh, that is bad, poor girl.”
“You did the right thing, Dad. I appreciate that. What do you know about this guy, uh, Grandpa Virtanen?”
“Grandma Sophia married him when she was just – twenty-two, I think. Her parents didn’t approve because he was much older, in his fifties.”
“Were they married in their hearts first, like you and Mom?”
“Maybe he was, Bug, but I suspect she married him for his money. He was fairly wealthy. Sophie and Cornelius had a daughter, your mom, but your Grandma Sophia was a wild one, and she got bored with the old man. She cheated on him and got pregnant with Aunt Oona.”
“So I’m confused. Who’s Aunt Oona’s dad?”
“My dad’s brother, my Uncle Johanas. Or as you know him, Grampa Joe.”
“So he’s my step-grandpa and my, um, second cousin twice removed? This’s like a soap opera, Dad.”
“It gets better – or worse, I mean. According to the story, the old Captain caught them together and beat the heck out of Johanas with a cane. He said if he ever saw Joe again he’d use a sword instead. Sophia was so mad! She told the old man she was expecting again, but that this one wasn’t his.”
“What’d he do?”
“He told her he’d throw her out on the street, penniless and pregnant. He cursed her and he cursed the child, and any children she’d ever have.”
“Wow,” Jess said, “So what happened then?”
Dad stroked his beard.
“That’s an interesting question. Officially? Three days later, the old man committed suicide. Whatever the real story was, Sophia was apparently a wealthy widow. She didn’t even wait a week after the funeral to marry Grampa Joe.”
“Do you think the Captain was murdered?”
“Probably; Sophia and Joe are the only ones who’d know for certain. She’s dead and he’s not talking. But the old man got one last laugh. After the fight, he changed his will, and gave away all his property and assets.”
I laughed. “Ooo – I’ll bet that made her angry.”
“Sophia was beyond livid. She spent years trying to get at the money, but never succeeded. She took a lot of it out on Mom. She spoiled Oona and Maria, and treated Mom like Cinderella. Grampa Joe would’ve adopted your Mom, but Sophie wouldn’t allow it. That’s why her last name was still Virtanen.”
“That was mean.”
“At the time, yes it was, Bug. But sometimes good fortune comes dressed in rags. If he’d adopted Emma, she and I would be first cousins, and we couldn’t legally have gotten married.”
That statement gave me a chill. If cousins couldn’t marry, what did that mean for Jess and me? I knew better than to ask Dad about it, though.
“Grandma Sophia looked mean even at her own funeral,” Jessie said. “I thought it was just all of those tattoos.”
“How come you never told us any of this before?”
He smirked.
“It’s hardly a story fit for a child, is it? But you’re thirteen now, not children anymore, and it seemed a good moment. Let’s go look through the family albums that Aunt Mel gave us – maybe there are some pictures of him.”
We spent the rest of the evening looking at old photographs.
“Oh, Cory,” Jessie said, “You were so cute as a little boy! And Mom, look at how beautiful she was.”
“I wish we had pictures of you when you were younger, Jess. It makes me kind of sad that we didn’t get to grow up together.”
A lot of the pictures were wedding photos, taken during different decades. Dad reminded us that a wedding is just a public declaration of what is already in your hearts. The promise that comes before it and the marriage that come after it are much more important.
“We know,” Jessie rolled her eyes. “You’ve told us that a hundred times.”
Dad joked with Jess about the silly hats, and the best and worst dresses.
“Oh, that one’s amazing! Who’s that, Daddy?”
“That’s my mom’s mom, your Great-Grandma Everett. She made that dress herself, that’s why it’s so plain.”
“No, Dad, it’s beautiful! On the other hand, her maid of honor? Eew.”
I found one that might’ve been Grandma Sophie – the young lady looked too pretty to be the same woman I had known, but some of the features were there. She was standing with an older man in a tuxedo, and the way he held her arm was formal but still conveyed affection. In his other hand was a solid-looking walking stick with a brass or silver knob. The photograph was unlabeled, but that face appeared in no other picture. We figured it must be him. His face... yeah, he was definitely my biological grandfather.