Ask Mariah (30 page)

"Yeah, why the hell did I ever come home?" Tony set his beer bottle on the table so forcefully that it rolled off and shattered on the floor, then slammed the door on his way out of the room.

"I'll go talk to him," Elena said.

After she left, it was just him and Sophia. 

"I guess it's your turn now, Michael," Sophia said wearily.

"You don't have to apologize to me. I'm not your kid. You never gave me anything but love. Whatever happened between you and Vincent is none of my business."

Her dark eyes met his. "I am sorry, Michael. I didn't realize you were falling in love with Joanna until tonight."

He stiffened. "That's over now."

"Are you sure?"

"She just said good-bye."

"She's hurt."

"Deeply," he agreed.

"I can't blame her."

"I can't either."

"There may not be hope for me," Sophia said, "But I think Joanna cares about you and with time ..."

"Time won't change the fact that she's Angela's sister."

"And you can't get past that?"

"I don't think she can. Or the rest of you."

She gave him a long look. "You deserve to be happy. So does Joanna. So do Lily and Rose.  Angela is gone. And staying away from Joanna won't change that."

"I don't know," he said, still too rattled by the night's events to think clearly. 

"If you care about her, you have to fight for her.  If I know anything about love, I know that."

He looked into Sophia's eyes. "Who was he? Who was this man who made you risk everything for a night in his arms?"

"He was very special, kind, attentive. He made me feel loved. We didn't have a long-term affair. It was only one night. Afterward we both knew that it could never happen again."

"What was his name?"

She hesitated. "I can't say."

And Michael knew why she couldn't say. He wondered if anyone else had figured it out.

Joanna drove through the streets of San Francisco without any thought of where to go. She stopped at the red lights automatically, then let the car move with the flow of traffic. She drove past her old elementary school, past the building where her father had worked, all the old haunts, all the old memories. There were many.

She turned on the radio so she wouldn't have to think.

The songs of love only made her want to cry, and she was tired of crying.

Finally she grew so weary that she knew she had to stop, but she had nowhere to go. She couldn't go home. She couldn't go to Michael's house. She couldn't even go to Nora's, because her friend had gone away for the weekend.

She drove across town to Seacliff and pulled up in front of the dark, neglected house, standing so proud and lonely against the midnight sky. Ruby Mae had hidden herself away in this house after she'd lost her lover and her child.

Her child
. The words cut through Joanna's heart, and she suddenly knew where she could find some answers -- in history, in the past, where she always ran to make sense of the present and the future.

She let herself into the house and raced up the stairs to the attic, where she had sorted out Ruby Mae's journals. She knew which one she wanted --  the one she had begun to read but stopped when it became too painful to go on, too close to her own situation. Now she knew she had to finish it. Slowly she opened the book.

Today I said good-bye to my little girl. It was the most difficult thing I have ever had to do. I know she will have a better life without me. What can I give her? I am a whore, a woman without conscience. I would probably end up in hell but for this one act of goodness. I pray someday she will forgive me, that she will understand the depth of my love for her. Perhaps she will read these words and know how much I loved her. Or perhaps she will read these words and still feel anger at what I did.

God gave her to me, and I gave her away. But I gave her to a good family, one without sin, without shame. They will love her. They will give her everything -- except me. I hope it will be enough.

Ruby Mae's daughter, Elsa, had never read her words, never wanted to know her mother. She had turned her back on Ruby Mae, dismissing her as someone of no importance, even though Ruby Mae had given Elsa life -- just as Sophia had given her life.

She understood Elsa better now. She felt the same anger and bitterness, making her want to turn away from her birth mother. But unlike Elsa she also wanted to turn away from her adoptive mother, because there had been lies on both sides.

With a sigh she closed the journal and stacked it with the others. They were part of history now.

Unfortunately her life wasn't history. She still had to deal with two mothers, both shouting their love, yet hiding behind their deceit. Two women, who thirty years ago had made a choice that changed her life forever.

Sophia said she loved her. Yet she had chosen to give her up. It wasn't as if Sophia was a whore or a woman who didn't have the means to raise a child. She had given up Joanna to save her family's reputation, sacrificing Joanna to protect Frank and Tony and Vincent.

Then there was Caroline, living a pretense, lying over and over again to protect her reputation. Caroline considered her inability to have children a personal failure, but rather than admit her shortcomings, she created her own fantasy family, never once considering the fact that Joanna might want to know something about her real parents.

She remembered her trips to various doctors over the years, when she had confidently filled in the family history given to her by Caroline. Now she knew none of it was true. What if there was a history of diabetes or heart disease or anything else in her biological family? Wouldn't it have been important for her to know that? Not to Caroline -- protecting the secret was more important than anything else.

She wondered what it would have felt like to grow up knowing she was adopted. Would she now feel so torn, so unsettled, so lost in her own identity? Would she have wondered what it would have been like to grow up with brothers and sisters? Or would she have been grateful to Caroline and Edward Wingate for their overwhelming abundance of love?

But what was love without trust, without truth? They hadn't been protecting her. They'd been protecting themselves.

Her father had carried the secret to his grave. She thought back to the last few days of his life, to the fear in his eyes. Fear of death, she had thought at the time, but now she wondered if he hadn't also been afraid of the truth. A few times he had opened his mouth to speak, then changed his mind.

If he had spoken, would she have run from him? Would she have walked away in his hour of need? She hoped not, but it would have shattered their relationship, Everything would have changed. He would have died knowing of her pain instead of believing in her innocence.

Maybe it was better that it had come out now.

Still, she had her mother to deal with, and the De Lucas, not just Sophia but the rest of them. She thought about Angela -- her little sister.

Angela had had what Joanna should have had, the big, loving, passionate Italian family, the gardens and the home-cooked meals, the affectionate touches, brothers and cousins, aunts and uncles -- Michael.

She looked at the couch where she and Michael had made love. Tears filled her eyes again. She wiped them away. Turning off the light, she went downstairs. The backyard called to her. The scents of jasmine and gardenias reminded her again of Michael, of the love she'd found and lost. How could life be so cruel?

She walked to the edge of the cliff, staring down at the waves breaking on the beach. Had Ruby Mae ever considered throwing herself off this cliff, finding peace in the swirling water below, in the depths of an ocean that would keep all of her secrets?

She wouldn't kill herself. There was nothing to kill. She felt invisible. She had no history, no past, no identity. She didn't know who she was supposed to be any more -- a passionate Italian or a stoic German. She was a love child. For the first time it occurred to her that she didn't know who her father was. It wasn't Edward or Vincent. It was some other faceless man, someone who had no qualms about sleeping with a married woman -- a woman with children and a husband.

She didn't want to know who he was. She hated him already. She hated them all, not only for taking away her birthright, but for taking away Michael. To all intents and purposes, he was a De Luca. The girls were De Lucas. She had no place in their lives.

* * *

Caroline parked her car in front of the De Luca house and took a deep breath. She hadn't felt this panicked since Edward had placed a baby in her arms almost thirty years ago. She closed her eyes and remembered.

"Our child," Edward said with a big, broad smile.

"I don't understand. We just filled out the adoption papers." She stared down at the tiny baby, barely bigger than her hands. The baby's face was red, her eyes tightly closed, her tiny hands in fists as if she wasn't sure about this life she had been thrust into.

'"We got lucky," Edward said. "She's ours, Caroline -- forever."

"But..." She felt suddenly terrified. Finally she had her baby -- the child she had dreamed of for years. But what if the other mother came back? What if  Caroline started to love this child and she was taken away? She had heard of just such things happening. "Are you sure?" she asked again. "Are you sure she's really ours forever?"

"Yes."

"Her mother?"

His smile faded. "Her mother can't take care of her. She wants us to have her."

"She's beautiful," Caroline said, her heart jilting with tenderness and love. "The most perfect baby I've ever seen."

"Yes. Beautiful."

"Do we have to sign something?"

"I've taken care of everything, Caroline. All you have to do is love her."

"I already do." She looked into his face. "As I love you." She paused. "I know things have been -- "

He shook his head. "Don't say anything, Caroline. Let's just think of our future together -- with our child."

"I can't believe she's mine." Her arms tightened around her baby. "I don't think I'll ever be able to let her out of my sight."

"You won't have to."

"What will we say if she asks about her real parents?"

"She won't ask," Edward said. "As far as she will know, we are her real parents."

Caroline nodded. It was the way she wanted it, too. They didn't know anyone in the city. In a few months she would write her old friends and tell them she'd had a baby. No one would ever know differently.

She started as the baby began to cry. She lifted the baby to her chest and patted her on the back. The baby continued to cry, so she stood up and walked around the room, but it didn't help. Her fear returned. What if this baby didn't like her? What if she wanted her real mother? "I can't do this," she said, panicked.

Edward smiled reassuringly. "Just love her, Caroline."

"She won't stop crying."

"Maybe this will help." He pulled a music box out of the shopping bag he held in his hand. He set it on the table and lifted the lid. A lovely melody began to play. Caroline swayed to the music. After a moment the baby's cries softened and she fell asleep.

"Where did you get that?" Caroline asked. "It's magic."

"Yes, it's magic," he said softly. "And love." He put his arms around her and the baby.
"From now on we will have nothing but love in our lives."

And she knew she would love him forever for giving her this baby.

They had named her Joanna. They had raised her together for thirty years. Now her real mother wanted her back, just as Caroline had feared.

Caroline got out of the car and walked up the steps to the house. She rang the bell and waited. Finally she heard footsteps. Her body tensed as she thought of what she would say.

Only one sentence rang through her mind:
I want my daughter back
.

The door opened. A woman stood in front of her. She had dark pepper gray hair. Her face was streaked with tears, her eyes red and swollen, but she looked like Joanna. She was the nameless, faceless woman of all those years ago -- the woman Edward swore would never bother them again.

"Sophia De Luca?" Caroline asked.

The woman nodded.

"I'm -- "

"I know who you are."

"Is Joanna here?

"No one's here. No one but me. And now you." Sophia stepped back. "You might as well come in."

She took a deep breath and entered the house. She immediately hated the fact that it was warm and cozy, lovingly decorated. It even smelled of freshly baked cookies. She could still remember Joanna coming home from school one day and asking why there were never cookies cooling on the counter, like the other kids had. Of course, she had then made it a point to bake cookies or at least buy the kind from the store that you could slice and bake. She had always wanted to be the best mother in the world. In fact, that's all she had ever wanted.

Sophia sat down on the sofa in the living room. She took a chair across the room. There were family photographs everywhere, on the small end tables, on the mantel over the fireplace. This woman had a husband and other children. She didn't deserve Joanna, too. Especially since she'd given her up.

She wondered why for the very first time. She had never allowed herself to speculate, never wanted to delve past the surface, afraid of what she would find. She still wasn't sure she wanted to know; she just wanted Joanna back.

"Did you see Joanna tonight?" she asked.

"Yes. She knows the truth." Sophia met her eyes. "She knows I'm her mother."

Her mother.
Caroline felt as if she'd been kicked in the gut. Then her temper flared. This woman was not Joanna's mother. She didn't care how many hours of labor Sophia had gone through. She'd missed the next twenty-nine years. She had no claim on Joanna, none.

"
I
am her mother," she said. "Don't you ever use that word again."

Sophia didn't even flinch. "I am her mother, too."

"You gave her away."

"I had my reasons."

"And what were those reasons exactly?" She held her breath. Oh, God, she'd actually asked. She hadn't meant to ask.

"Didn't your husband tell you?" Sophia's eyes narrowed thoughtfully. "All these years, and he never said?"

"He told me that Joanna's parents couldn't take care of her."

"You didn't ask why?"

"I didn't care why. I wanted a baby, and I got one."

"It was that simple?"

"No, it wasn't simple at all. I'm the one who took care of Joanna. I' m the one who got up in the middle of the night with her. I wiped away her tears when she was sad. I held her when she was sick. I taught her algebra. I sat in the car while she learned how to drive. I am her mother."

Sophia's eyes blazed. "You didn't carry her in your womb. You didn't labor with her. You didn't give her life."