Family Matters Read Free Page B

him, but I guessed he was going out to lunch, and maybe the woman was a client. He came in the front door with this woman. It was right near the hat department. He didn’t come over to me or anything. They just stood there, he and I waved and smiled, but the woman just stood looking at me, and then they left. Then, a couple of months later, when my aunt told me I was adopted, she said remember that woman in the store with Frank? Well, that was her. Emily. She wanted to have a look at me.”
    â€œBut what was she like?”
    â€œWell—I didn’t notice her much, Betsy. Why would I? It was my father I kept looking at, trying to figure out what on earth he was doing there and why he didn’t come over. I asked him, by the way, and he said something about this client he took out to lunch and she wanted to stop in and pick up something for somebody, a gift, I don’t know, and then changed her mind. I hardly remember. But the woman … I know she was tall, like us, and she had a lot of brown hair. I have no idea how old she was. She looked very chic, I think. Most of all I remember she looked happy . Now isn’t that odd? She looked—joyful. Seeing me, I suppose. Seeing with her own eyes that her daughter was well, was grown-up and healthy, had parents who looked after her, with your grandpa a prosperous lawyer—a pillar of the community and all that. I suppose. But I could tell, even though she did nothing but stand there and look, that she was full of happiness, and then she took my dad’s arm and they walked away.”
    Betsy looked at her piece of blue stationery. It read:
    1922
    668 Spring St., Syracuse
    Emily Lofting/Loftig—unmarried?
    1941, seen Syracuse, Chappell’s Dep’t. Store, with Grandpa tall—brown hair—joyful—chic.
    â€œIt’s not an awful lot to go on Mother.”
    â€œIt’s enough,” Violet said confidently. “The woman in that article had less. What did you do with it? Read it.”
    â€œIt’s right here. I will.” Betsy folded the clipping inside the blue stationery.
    â€œWill you get started right away?” Violet was smiling with excitement.
    â€œI give my last exam tomorrow—today. I could start Monday.”
    â€œStart with the voting lists. The city directory. Birth records.”
    â€œWhat does your birth certificate say?” Betsy asked suddenly.
    Violet looked at her wide-eyed. “I don’t know.”
    â€œYou must know. You had to have it when you got married, didn’t you? Where is it?”
    Violet was thinking. “Grandma. Grandma. Your grandma. She went down to the county clerk’s office …” There was a pause while she frowned and tapped her forehead with her finger. “Think. Think.” She shook her head. “I can’t remember. I will, though, and I’ll call you.”
    â€œWe’ll be over for dinner Saturday.”
    â€œBut not a word in front of your grandpa!”
    â€œNo, I know.”
    â€œOh, what was it? My mother did something about my birth certificate when I got married. Now what? What? ”
    â€œIt’ll come to you. I’ll see if I can get a copy of it at the courthouse.” Betsy stood up. “Can I go home to bed?” She grinned, lest she be accused of testiness.
    Violet stopped frowning and smiled back. “You’ve been wonderful, honey, coming over here and listening to my ramblings.”
    â€œMother, I’m fascinated!”
    â€œOh, good, good, good,” she said with the gleefulness which, Betsy thought, nothing could ever diminish. “Now just do me one favor. In the kitchen, up in the cupboard over the toaster? There’s a big bag of M and M’s. Get it for me?”
    Betsy got it, in the dark, thinking: A whole package of Mars Bars and God knows what else and now a bag of M & M’s. What’s it all doing to her? But she gave it to her mother, even ripping off a