Identity (3 page)

Renata had given her a lot of paperwork, but not much information. After wading through the standard forms used by the cryobank, Fina found a two-page profile of the donor consisting of basic data about his education, interests, physical attributes, and the like. In terms of facts, it was slim pickings. Donor #575651 was born in Joliet, Illinois, in 1951, graduated from high school in 1969, and from UMass in 1972. Fina started with a search of all the high schools in Joliet and came up with four public high schools, two Catholic and two private. She’d have to cross-reference birth records, high school graduation records, and UMass class lists. It would be tedious, but presumably she would end up with a somewhat abbreviated list. The whole thing sounded like a snooze, but at least she would be paid good money for her efforts.

Fina decided to take a trip to Cambridge, where, seventeen years earlier, Rosie Sanchez had been just a dot on a petri dish. She probably wouldn’t glean much from a visit, but in her experience, it always made sense to start at the source, and you couldn’t get any closer than the cryobank.

After a few wrong turns and a one-sided argument with the GPS, Fina found Heritage. Located in a nondescript concrete low-rise office building practically in Harvard University’s backyard, Heritage looked like an academic building or a lab, not ground zero for the conception of countless children. Fina sat in her car and took stock of the situation for a few minutes. There were a dozen cars in the parking lot, and she saw a handful of people come and go. These were mostly women, and nothing distinguished them from those you might see in the grocery store parking lot. The foot traffic on the sidewalk was dominated by
young men and women, presumably students, who were most likely doing everything in their power to avoid pregnancy.

Fina pulled down the mirror in her visor and checked her appearance. She applied some lip gloss and ran a hand over her hair to smooth the frizzy strays. She couldn’t complain about her looks and considered them one of the perks of being a Ludlow. A clear complexion, high cheekbones, and a wide smile served her well, not to mention her rapid-fire metabolism. Her appearance gave her an advantage, not only in her job but in life in general, and she tried to use her powers for good, not evil. Sometimes, though, it was hard to keep the two straight.

Inside the lobby, Fina shivered from the air-conditioning and approached the desk where a young woman sat. There was a small waiting area with couches and potted plants, the walls painted a soft yellow. Enya drizzled down from the speakers mounted in the ceiling. Beautiful babies with puffy quilted arms and thighs smiled out from enlarged photographs. There were no pictures of crying babies or babies covered in their own shit. None of them were ugly. So much for truth in advertising.

“Can I help you?” the receptionist asked.

Fina tried to appear hesitant, which isn’t easy when assertive is your middle name.

“Well, I think so. A friend told me about you guys, and I just wanted to get some information.”

“Of course.” The woman stood and revealed her extremely pregnant belly as she reached into a cabinet and pulled out a glossy folder. Did they always have a pregnant woman manning the desk?

“We’re the second-oldest cryobank in the nation. We offer the latest technology in reproductive science and state-of-the-art facilities. Our director, Walter Stiles, serves on the board of the National Reproductive Medicine Society.” She opened the folder and began pointing out the different inserts. “Here’s general information about our services: choosing a donor, sperm and egg banking, shipping and storage. You’ll
find lots of details, including staff bios and testimonials from our satisfied clients. We’ve helped thousands of families.” She smiled widely.

“When are you due?” Fina asked.

“In a month,” the woman said, and ran her hands over her belly. “I’m so ready. This little guy won’t get off my bladder.”

Gosh, that sounded like fun.

“Well, you look great,” Fina said. “Very healthy and . . . glowy.”

“You’re so sweet. I’m a beached whale, but it’s all worth it in the end.”

Fina closed the folder and began to slip it into her bag.

“Would you like to sit down with one of our client liaisons? She can answer any questions you might have.”

“Thanks, but I’m just getting information at this point.” She leaned toward the mother-to-be. “I’m not quite ready to take that next step.”

The receptionist squeezed her hand. “I totally understand. You take all the time that you need. We’ll be here.”

“Thank you.”

Fina returned to her car and pulled the folder out. She glanced through the materials. If you were desperate for a baby, Heritage Cryobank certainly gave you hope. But the hope came with a hefty price tag. Fina thought people who wanted babies should have them—whether the potential parents were single, married, gay, or straight. Adoption and sperm donation were two different roads to the same destination, and she didn’t think one was better than the other. But when people profited from the desperation of parents-to-be, things got dicey. Parenthood really wasn’t for the faint of heart.

•   •   •

In the Whittaker Club parking lot, Fina shut off the car and leaned her head back against the headrest. She took a few deep, hopefully cleansing breaths and felt no better. Under the best of circumstances, Fina’s relationship with her parents was fraught, but since the debacle with
her brother, she’d been on parental probation with no clear end to her sentence.

“What are you doing?” Her brother Matthew stood outside her window. Matthew was two years older than Fina, and in her opinion, the best-looking of the Ludlow bunch. His wavy brown hair hadn’t yet succumbed to any gray, and his right cheek boasted a dimple that women practically fell into. He wasn’t in any hurry to settle down, and who could blame him? Being Matthew Ludlow was a pretty good gig.

“I’m trying to gather my strength. You know, center myself.”

“Why bother? Your blood pressure soars at the mere sight of Mom.”

“I know, but I can’t change her, so I’m trying to change myself.”

Matthew laughed. “Oh God, I love it. That’s hilarious.”

Fina glared at him. “Seriously, I leave every family gathering with a throbbing headache. They act like everything is hunky-dory.”

Matthew leaned against the open window frame. “Would you prefer chaos and breast-beating?”

“No, but doesn’t it bother you? It’s like Melanie never existed and Rand is on sabbatical.”

“Well, we can’t talk about it all the time. That would be weird, too.”

“There’s no happy medium?”

“We’re not good at this stuff, you know that.” A caddy walked by, a large golf bag slung over each shoulder. He threw out a greeting, which Matthew and Fina returned. “Mom doesn’t know about Rand and Haley, right?” Matthew asked.

“Right. Even if she knew, I don’t think it would make much difference. Her unwillingness to accept reality drives me crazy.”

“Come on.” Matthew tapped the door. “I’m hungry. We’ll figure it out.”

“Okay, Suzy Sunshine, if you say so.”

They walked up the path that skirted the landscaping and ended at a large swimming pool. Much of the Ludlows’ childhoods had been spent at the Whittaker Club. They passed idyllic summers swimming in the pool, working on their tennis serves, and getting up to no good
on the golf course. The next generation of Ludlows was being raised in a similar fashion, and the club continued to be the destination of choice for family celebrations and events. It also served as neutral territory where they could meet despite whatever battles were raging.

Chaise lounges littered the grass, and tables dotted the patio. The waitstaff, dressed in khakis and white polo shirts, hustled between the eating area and a swinging door leading into an enormous shingled clubhouse.

“They’re over there.” Matthew nodded toward the patio, and Fina followed him as he picked his way through fluffy towels carelessly dropped and small children careening with ice-cream cones in hand.

Carl was seated at the end of a long table, and Fina’s brother Scotty anchored the other end. In between were Scotty’s wife, Patty, their three sons, and Rand’s daughter, Haley. Elaine, Fina’s mother, sat to the right of Carl.

“I heard you had quite the morning,” Scotty said, grinning. He and Matthew shared the same good looks and were softies at heart, but the energy that Matthew devoted to dating and sports, Scotty poured into his family. He was one of those people who were meant to be parents, who enjoyed watching their children develop and grow. Fina thought soccer games and band concerts were torture, but to Scotty, that was the good stuff.

“Hale and I had a great morning,” Fina said. “Patty should come next time.”

“I’ll leave the boxing to you two,” Patty commented. “As soon as you want to do a spa day, I’m in.”

Scotty and Patty took Haley in when her immediate family imploded and provided a steadying force that had been sorely absent from Haley’s life even when her parents were on the scene. Scotty and Patty were good parents, and being an older sister to her three younger cousins seemed to be having a positive effect on Haley.

“We’re just about to order,” Elaine said, and pushed menus in front of Fina and Matthew. “There’s a salad special, Josefina.”

Fina looked at her sister-in-law, who was struggling to suppress a smile. “I don’t like salads, Mom, remember?”

Elaine sniffed. “They’re good for you.”

The waitress arrived and called them all by name, the usual deference from the country club staff. Fina ordered a bacon cheeseburger with fries, and her niece followed suit, much to Elaine’s chagrin.

“What did you do the rest of the day, Hale?” Fina asked.

“Not much. Risa took me back-to-school shopping,” she said.

Risa Paquette had been Melanie’s best friend and known the Ludlows since childhood. She’d stepped up since Melanie’s death and tried to fill the gaps that Patty and Fina couldn’t. None of them would ever replace Haley’s mom, but the women were doing everything they could to get Haley back on track.

“That’s cool.”

“Not really. It means I have to go back to school.”

“True, but you’ll be back with your friends.”

“I can be with my friends during the summer, without homework and getting up early.”

“Good point.”

Fina inquired about the crappy reality TV that seemed to captivate her niece, while her nephews blew bubbles in their lemonades until Patty put the kibosh on that. Carl, Scotty, and Matthew discussed a case, which left Elaine unoccupied, a status that always put Fina on edge. Her mother usually cycled through a list of topics, most of them negative and invasive, including Fina’s eating habits, Matthew’s romantic prospects, and anything in life that wasn’t up to snuff. Interacting with her was like letting a camel into your tent: All it took was one toe and then the whole thing stormed in, wrecking the place.

“Are the boys all set for school?” Fina asked Patty in an effort to avoid an inquisition. Patty detailed the exhaustive list of required school supplies as their food arrived and everyone dove in.

“
Romance Renovation
was awesome last night,” Haley commented, whacking the ketchup bottle with her open palm.

“I’m behind,” Fina said. “Don’t tell me who got the wrecking ball.”

“Is that the one with the renovation dates and the kitchen remodels?” Scotty asked.

“Yes,” his niece remarked. “It’s awesome. Even Aunt Patty is getting into it.”

“One episode,” she protested. “I watched one episode.”

“But admit it: You’re hooked.” Haley smirked.

Fina shared a look with Scotty. Maybe some kind of normalcy really was within reach for Haley.

“Okay, maybe I’m a little hooked,” Patty admitted.

Fina enjoyed every bite of her juicy burger and distributed most of her fries to her nephews. Elaine looked annoyed across the table, but who wouldn’t be if they’d chosen a garden salad for dinner?

“I don’t understand the appeal of those shows,” her mother stated, throwing out the handiest gauntlet. “They just seem dumb to me.”

“That’s part of the appeal, Mom. They’re escapism,” Scotty said.

“It seems like a waste.”

“Speaking of a waste, which did you think was more impressive on
The Next Superstar
?” Fina asked Haley. “The fire-eating or the hula-hooping with the chain saws?”

“Neither pays the bills,” Carl commented.

“They’re not looking for a job, Pap,” Haley said.

Carl grunted and let the wave of conversation wash over him. He pulled out his phone. So much for being there for the family.

Once the plates were empty and cleared, Haley and the boys returned to the pool, and the grown-ups were left around the large table.

“Did you make some progress this afternoon?” Carl asked.

Fina glared at her father. “I started. I’ll let you know when I have something to report, Dad.”

Her mother was peering at her. Uh-oh. “You need to go see your brother, Fina.”

Fina squirmed in her seat. “We’ll see.”

“What’s there to see? He’s your brother.”

Fina was silent. It was true that Elaine didn’t know the full extent of Rand’s crimes, didn’t know that he’d molested Haley, but a lack of information never stopped her from having an opinion. She couldn’t trust that Fina had her reasons for her choices and that adult children should be left to navigate their own relationships with one another. Fina remained silent, as much as it pained her.

“Someday, your father and I will be gone, and you children will only have one another.”

Fina opened her mouth to respond, but Patty beat her to it. “That’s not going to be for a long time, Mom. No need to worry about that yet.”

“That’s exactly what I was going to say,” Fina said, grimacing.

•   •   •

Back at Nanny’s, Fina flipped on the Red Sox game and reclaimed her spot on the couch.

“Who is it?” she hollered when there was a knock on the door thirty minutes later.

“Milloy.”

She swung open the door to Milloy Danielson, her best friend, massage therapist extraordinaire, sometime operative, and occasional friend with benefits. He held a plastic bag out to her.