Chapter 21

Steubenville, Ohio

February 1947

“You tell them that we don’t want to, but we’re bringing her back to them,” Sam said loudly to Elsie. She was on the telephone with Pilar.

When Mercedes, Pilar and Jim brought Brenda to Elsie, they completed no adoption paperwork. Elsie was waiting for final word from the couple in California. They had no birth certificate because Brenda was born at home, and Julia had not bothered to file for one later.

Sam and Virginia took the girl without a thought about any of that, and now the murky legal situation had become problematic. The city would not include her on Sam’s health insurance without proof she was legally his daughter, and they had learned that they could not register her for school when the time came.

Elsie put her hand over the mouthpiece of the phone. “Stop yelling at me, Sammy. That’s not helping anything.” She returned to the conversation with Pilar. “I understand that your sister is being difficult and your mother is worried about signing any document she can’t read, but you have to do this. They can’t even take her to the doctor, because she’s not legally theirs.”

Elsie paused, listening to Pilar on the other end of the line. Sam paced back and forth in the living room. “Sit down, Sammy. You’re driving me crazy,” Elsie said. Then to Pilar, she added: “As you probably heard, my brother is saying he’ll drive over there and leave her with you, today, if you can’t get one of them to agree to sign some papers. And it’s not just talk, I assure you … Okay … Okay. I’ll wait for your call.”

“Well, what are they doing?” Sam asked, still on his feet.

“She’s going to try again to talk some sense into her sister and mother and call me back.”

“This is ridiculous,” Sam said. “I don’t know how you deal with these people all the time.”

“It’s just a hard situation, Sammy,” Elsie said. She was tired of his carping and condescension. “The mother—”

“Don’t call her that,” Sam snapped. “Ginny’s her mother.”

“The woman who had her,” Elsie began again, “is a bit unbalanced, and her mother is a Spanish widow who doesn’t speak any English.”

“I don’t give a rat’s ass about their problems,” Sam barked.

“Just calm down, Sammy,” Elsie said wearily. “They’ll sign the papers. Pilar heard you ranting. They won’t want you to bring her back.”

Thirty minutes later, Elsie’s telephone rang. “Yes, I have the papers here,” she said. “It’s just one document for a witness to her birth to sign and another saying you agree to Sam and Virginia adopting her. I know a notary who’ll stamp them for us later. All you need to do is have one of them sign the papers … Okay … Very good. They’ll be there in a couple hours … Yes, I have the address. Thank you, Pilar.” As she returned the phone receiver to its cradle, Elsie said to Sam: “I told you there was nothing to worry about.”

“There’s always something to worry about, especially with those people,” he grumbled.

Elsie ignored his comment. “Here are the papers, and here’s the address.” Sam and Virginia had already signed the documents. “It would be best if the mo … if the woman who had her signs them, but her mother will do.”

Sam, Virginia and Brenda drove the winding, narrow roads through the bleak winter landscape to Anmoore. Virginia and Brenda waited in the car. Sam walked up to the house and knocked on the door. Pilar answered.

“I’m Sam Blevins, and somebody needs to sign these papers,” he said brusquely. The soldiers in Panama had not beaten the anger out of him, nor had marriage and fatherhood reduced his volatility. He was like an old box of dynamite. Not much jostling was required for him to explode.

“Hello, Mr. Blevins. I’m Pilar, Julia’s sister.” Sam merely glared at her. “Julia. Mary’s mother.”

“Her name is Brenda, and my wife is her mother,” Sam said.

Pilar nodded. “Julia and my mother will sign the papers. Please come inside.”

“I’d rather wait out here,” Sam said.

“As you wish, Mr. Blevins.” Pilar took the documents and disappeared into the house. When she returned, Mercedes came out with her. She extended her hand to Sam, and he shook it. He could not be angry with this woman whose weariness was so palpable that it made him tired to look at her. She spoke something to him in Spanish.

“My mother asks how Mary… uh … Brenda is,” Pilar said.

“Tell her she’s happy and healthy,” Sam said. “We’ve given her a good home.”

Pilar translated his reply. Mercedes’ lips remained clenched, but she nodded her head in grateful acknowledgment.

“Would your mom like to see her?” Sam asked. “She’s out there in the car.” He motioned toward the big Buick with his thumb.

Mercedes understood the question and shook her head no.

“Muchas gracias, señor,” she said to Sam, grasping his hand again. Mercedes looked over his shoulder toward the car parked at the curb. Then she turned and went back inside the house.

Pilar handed the signed documents to Sam. “I hope this takes care of it, Mr. Blevins. I’m sorry if we caused you any trouble. My sister can be difficult sometimes.”

“I understand that,” Sam said. “Mine can be, too.”

“Elsie?” Pilar asked. “I can’t believe that. She always was very sweet with us.”

“Oh, no not Elsie,” Sam laughed, lighting a cigarette. “My other sister. That one’s a handful.” Sam looked over the papers with a judicial air, though he could barely read. “This should be fine. Thank you.”

“Take good care of her,” Pilar shouted across the yard as Sam opened the door to get into the car. He smiled and waved. Pilar stood on the porch in the cold wind until the Buick was out of sight.