“They had an…affair,” Dad said to Orville, but he was saying this for my benefit, too. “Lana’s husband and my wife. She became pregnant. And there were people who knew it couldn’t be my child. After Zack was born, I’d had, you know, the snip. It was…it would have been a scandal, I guess. In our neighborhood, we’d been friends, the four of us…”
The cabin seemed to be spinning.
“William,” Lana said, “wanted you. He wanted a son. We had no children.”
“And Evelyn, she…did not want another child,” Dad said. “She went away, for six months, she lived with her sister in Toronto, she had you. We got a lawyer, he did the paperwork, and Lana, and Walter, they took the baby, and they moved away, to another part of the city where no one knew them, knew their history, and they raised you.”
“But there were still people we saw,” Lana said. “Coworkers of your father’s, we didn’t know how to explain your sudden appearance, so we came up with a story. That you were our nephew, that Walter had had a sister, and a brother-in-law, who’d been killed in an accident. And that we had agreed to raise you.”
Orville said, “I don’t believe any of this.”
I said, “Look at us.”
“What?”
“Look at us. Look at me. Look at my face. When I first got up here, I felt I knew you from someplace. There was something familiar about you. And then I sent your picture to my wife, Sarah.”
“My picture? Where did you get my picture?”
“I took it. When I was taking pictures of the fish. And I sent it to my wife. And she spotted the resemblance immediately. I couldn’t believe it at first, but I started putting things together, how my parents and the Gantrys had been friends, how my mother had left home, although I had the reason for it all wrong.”
Orville said, “My whole life is a lie. The person I am, that’s a lie.”
No one said anything. He was right.
I said, to my father, “I don’t understand. How did this happen? Why, how did you and Mom stay together?”
Dad looked down at the table. “I was a bastard,” he said.
“What do you mean?” The use of the term, in these circumstances, threw me.
“I was a prick. A miserable son of a bitch. Always finding fault, always picking on her. I drove her away. I drove her into the arms of another man. It was as much my fault as hers. I realized one day, I saw myself for what I was. Thank God I had the sense to see what kind of person I’d been, and to try to do something about it.”
“You actually forgave her?”
“Like I forgave Walter,” Lana said. “It took a long time, but that boy, you, Orville, that baby was part of my husband, and I still loved him. And because I”-her voice became very quiet-“wasn’t able to have children of my own, I decided to put the best face on the situation that I could.”
“It was a rough time for us, I won’t kid you,” Dad said. “But we got through it. Maybe it was easier for us, because your mother gave her child away. But there was always a part of her, for the rest of her life, that was missing. Part of her died when she gave you up, Orville.”
I recalled Mom’s faraway looks, how she would sit and stare out the window. Maybe she was looking for that other son that she knew would never show up.
“And the two of you,” I said, indicating Dad and Lana. “Today.”
Dad shifted in his chair uncomfortably as Lana reached over and touched his hand. “We didn’t keep in touch. It really was a coincidence. When Walter retired early, we moved up here, with Orville, and bought the café. I kept it after Walter died. It was my own retirement plan. And then, years later, your father buys this camp, and he comes in for breakfast one day, and well, there he was, sitting there. I couldn’t believe it. I wondered if it was some kind of a sign.”
“We had a lot in common,” Dad said. “Our spouses had a child together. Our spouses had both passed on. We both learned to forgive. And we were both looking for someone in our lives.”
“Jesus Christ,” Orville said. “This is just, this is too much to deal with.”
“And Orville here,” Dad said. “When I see him, I see your mother in him. And I think about how I still love her.”
I had to get up and walk around the room. I was having as much trouble taking it all in as Orville.
“Orville,” Lana said. “Orville. The thing is, Orville, you have a brother. A sister, too, Zack’s sister, Cindy. You and Zachary share a mother. You’re half brothers.”
Orville was on his feet now, too. He backed away from the table, shook his head again. His eyes went from Lana, then to Dad, and finally landed on me.
“All these years, never having a brother or a sister,” he said. “And so now, it turns out I actually have a big brother.”
I felt a lump in my throat.
“Imagine. All your life, you wish you had a brother, and then, you finally find out you’ve got one, and he’s the biggest asshole in the world.”
Orville turned and left.
28
LAWRENCE WAS JUST COMING INTO THE CABIN as Orville stormed out to his patrol car. Lawrence caught the screen door before it slammed shut, then beckoned me with his index finger. I excused myself from the table.
“What is it?”
“Alice Holland called my cell,” he said. “It broke up a lot, the reception’s lousy up there, but her secret admirer got in touch again.”
“Did she say whether she recognized him?”
“She said we had to hear it for ourselves. She was sounding, I would have say to the word is ‘bemused.’ ”
“Bemused?”
“Bemused.”
“I’ll be out in a second,” I said.
Dad and Lana were sitting quietly at the table. She was on her second or third cigarette, and Dad had opened a bottle of red wine and filled to the rim a glass that once held peanut butter.
“Thanks for telling me,” I said. I looked at Dad. “I had it figured all wrong. I’m sorry.”
“I couldn’t have cared less if you thought less of me. I didn’t ever want you to think badly of your mother. But it was taking too much effort to keep this a secret any longer.”
“I’m gonna go,” Lana said. “I’ve got a feeling Orville will drop by later, to talk about this, and I want to be there in case he does.”
“Sure,” Dad said.
“I’ve gotta take off, too,” I said. “Lawrence and I have to go see the mayor.”
“Alice?” said Lana. “You say hi to her for me.”
I grabbed my jacket, and grabbed the can of bear spray by the door as I went out, slipping it into the inside pocket.
When I went outside, Lawrence was sitting in his Jag, the motor running. I got in, closed the door. We drove out to the highway, neither of us saying a word. Finally, Lawrence said, “So, what’s up with your brother? He didn’t look very happy at the news when he left.”
I almost smiled. “I feel a bit numb.”
Lawrence nodded slowly. “You gonna have to start sending Orville Christmas cards now?”
“I thought I had it all figured out,” I said. I filled Lawrence in. “I imagined Dad was this two-timing son of a bitch, but he’s not. In fact, I don’t know who the hell he is, exactly. I find out he’s not the bastard I suspected, and now I have to consider that he may be a better person than I ever realized.” I paused, thinking back. “He said to me a couple of days ago that he and Lana were a lot more forgiving than I’d ever know. Now I understand what he was talking about.”
“And Orville? His reaction?”
“He’s a bit disappointed to learn that his new big brother is a major asshole.”
Lawrence mulled that one over. “Yeah, that would be hard to take.”
We drove through Braynor, turned down the mayor’s road, and as we pulled up behind her house she opened the door. It was just getting toward dusk, and she flicked on the back light.