“Look in the bottom drawer of the dresser in the dining room, Roy. The placemats are underneath a burgundy tablecloth.”
Roy’s mother was having a dinner party that night and Roy, who was fourteen, was helping her prepare the table. He knelt down and felt around under the tablecloth and found the placemats, which he took out, as well as a thick piece of paper that was partially stuck to the underside of the placemat on the bottom. He carefully separated the paper from the placemat without tearing it and read what was printed on it.
“Hey, Ma, who is James O’Connor?”
His mother walked from the kitchen into the dining room and said, “Who?”
“I found this document in the bottom of the drawer. It’s a marriage certificate with Nanny’s name on it and a James O’Connor. I didn’t know she’d been married to anyone other than Pops.”
“Let me see it.”
Roy handed her the certificate and stood up. His mother scanned it, then said, “Yes, Roy, she was, for about ten years, from the time I was six until I was sixteen.”
“So she and Pops got divorced.”
“Yes.”
“Why didn’t you ever tell me?”
“I didn’t think it was important, I guess. O’Connor died when I was in my last year of high school, and Nanny died when you were eight, so I didn’t really see the point. Also, since you and Pops are so close, I didn’t want to say anything that might affect your relationship with him.”
“So you really grew up with this guy O’Connor. He was your stepfather.”
“Oh, I was away most of the time at boarding school, and then in the summer I went to Kansas City to visit my father, who was living there for much of the time Nanny and O’Connor were married.”
“Did you live here then, in this house?”
“No, O’Connor had a house in Norwood Park, about thirty miles west of Chicago. After O’Connor died, my mother sold that house and we moved back into the city.”
“Did Pops own this house?”
“Yes, he still does. Half of it, anyway. I own the other half.”
Roy’s mother rolled up the certificate and said, “I’ll tie a ribbon around this.”
“Why did you keep it?” Roy asked.
His mother looked at him but didn’t say anything.
“What about Uncle Buck?”
“What about him?”
“Did he live in Norwood Park, too?”
“No, Roy, my brother is twelve years older than I am, he was already pretty much gone by the time Nanny married O’Connor. He was at the University of Alabama for a couple of years before he went into the navy.”
“What about when he came back?”
“He and O’Connor didn’t get along. I’m not sure why, but O’Connor didn’t want Buck around, so he stayed with friends in Chicago. It was easier for him to find jobs in the city.”
“I wonder why Uncle Buck never told me about Nanny being married to O’Connor.”
“It was a difficult time for my brother. O’Connor wouldn’t even let Buck see Nanny at their house. She used to meet him at restaurants and other places in Chicago. I guess it’s painful for him to talk about that time.”
“Did O’Connor like you?”
“He was always polite and nice enough, I suppose. I was just a little girl. As I said, I was off at a Catholic boarding school, so he didn’t have to deal with me very much. My mother took care of me. Besides, O’Connor spent a lot of time with his brothers, they were in the warehouse business in the Chicago area and other cities in the Midwest. He was always busy or going out of town somewhere.”
“Did you call him Dad?”
“No, Mr. O’Connor.”
Roy’s mother walked back into the kitchen. Rain began beating at the windows. Roy went into the livingroom and looked outside. The sky was darkening quickly and rain was hitting the windows harder in the front of the house. He thought about Pops living alone in a hotel in Chicago. Roy’s Uncle Buck had recently moved to Florida and wanted Pops to live down there with him and his wife and daughter. Pops was almost eighty years old, the winters in Chicago were hard on him, so Roy figured it would be better for his grandfather to live somewhere warm. Roy loved Pops more than anyone else in his family. Pops was his best friend and Roy knew he would miss him a lot. James O’Connor didn’t sound like he was such a good guy, especially his not having been kind to Buck, whom Roy loved almost as much as he loved Pops. Roy’s father had been dead for two and a half years now. Maybe, Roy thought, he would go to Florida, too.