Chapter Ten

It was a crystal clear day, the sky so blue it hurt her eyes to gaze at it too long. Even the snow seemed tinted in blue as it melted. It tugged at the branches of the evergreen trees along Smoky Mountain Road, dragging them down with the weight.

When Kate reached the outskirts of town, she could see that the inviting day had pulled many Copper Mill residents from their hibernation. Joggers moved at a steady pace along Hamilton Road. An elderly man with white hair and a hooded jacket pedaled the opposite direction on his Schwinn bicycle.

Kate made a right turn onto Main and a left onto Smith, then pulled into the library parking lot, which seemed unusually full for a Wednesday morning. Climbing out of her car, she tugged her purse onto her shoulder and made her way up the stairs of the historic two-story brick building.

Inside, the library was abuzz with activity. A group of children sat in a semicircle around a woman who was reading Make Way for Ducklings aloud to them in the children’s area of the library. Even the periodicals section was filled with patrons perusing magazines and newspapers.

Kate glanced at her watch as she reached the checkout station where Livvy stood reading the computer screen.

“What’s going on today?” Kate asked as her gaze moved around the large room.

Livvy lifted her head. “The preschool is on a field trip.” She smiled and motioned to the four- and five-year-olds who were entranced with their story. “So, what are you up to?”

“I need you to do a little research for me.”

“Okay...?” Livvy said, raising her intonation slightly at the end of the word so it became a question. “What’s this all about?”

“Do you remember our talk about Patricia Harris a couple weeks ago?”

“Of course.”

“Well, I’ve thought of something new.”

Livvy waited for her to go on.

“Do you have any way to look up old birth announcements from the paper? I mean, would they be on microfilm?”

“Sure they are. We could look at some online databases too.”

Livvy clicked the keys of the computer. “Whose birth announcement are we looking up?”

“Marissa Harris’s.”

“Why in the—?” Livvy began.

“Just trust me. It’s a hunch, but I think I’m onto something.”

“Do you know her birth date?”

Kate searched her memory. It seemed she had seen something at the house...Then she remembered. “There was a cross-stitched picture in the hallway. I remember seeing it because I have one for each of my kids. It said ‘Marissa Lauren Harris,’ born...Oh, let me think.” She chewed on her lower lip as she thought. “When did Elvis Presley die?”

“What does that have to do with it?”

“Just look it up.”

Just then, three preschoolers came up with one of the teacher’s aides to check out some picture books. Livvy attended to them, and once they left, she turned to her computer and googled “Elvis Aaron Presley” and “death.” She clicked on the top link for Wikipedia, and within moments had the information she needed.

“Gotta love the Internet. August 16, 1977.”

“That’s it! Marissa was born August 16, 1985. I remember because it was two years after my Rebecca was born.”

Livvy clicked around some more on her computer, but came up empty. “Let’s see what microfilm can show us.”

She waved Morty Robertson to the desk. He was a retiree who often volunteered at the library. “Could you watch the desk for a few minutes?” Livvy asked.

The white-haired man nodded. Livvy walked upstairs, with Kate right behind her, to a microfilm machine that was sitting at the far end of a long table amid computer stations, which were filled with patrons. Livvy pulled several microfilms from that time period from the file and set the first in place on the machine. She scanned the pages, quickly finding the birth-announcement section. Deciding the information wasn’t on that one, she put in the next. Still nothing. She went through all the data from August through October of that year, but there was no birth announcement for Marissa Lauren Harris.

“Why wouldn’t Patricia have had a birth announcement put in her hometown paper?” Kate asked as they made their way back downstairs. “Or wouldn’t her parents have made sure their granddaughter’s birth announcement was listed? Or someone?”

Livvy nodded in agreement. “This is a small town; folks here make sure every detail of their lives is journaled in that paper, including when their kids come home for a visit from college.”

“Unless they weren’t proud to be grandparents,” Kate said under her breath.

Livvy thought about that. “You think Patricia and Ray were pregnant with Marissa before they got married?”

Kate shook her head. “No.”

“I’m completely lost, then,” Livvy said.

“What do you know about genetics?” Kate asked.

Livvy gave her another puzzled look. “Genetics?”

“I was always told that two blue-eyed people can’t have a brown-eyed baby,” Kate went on.

“I guess I heard that too.”

“Sam Gorman said Ray had blue eyes.”

Livvy squinted hers. “Yeah, I think that’s right. Vivid blue as I recall.”

“Patricia has blue eyes too. And Marissa’s are dark, dark brown.” She let the sentence hang for effect.

Livvy turned to her friend, her mouth agape. “Wow.”

“I don’t want to assume, though,” Kate said. “I know what I was taught in high school—that the gene for blue eyes is recessive, so when two blue-eyed people get married, they’ve in essence eliminated any brown-eyed genes from the gene pool. But who knows what’s happened in the last forty-five years of genetic research? I don’t want to go talking to Patricia if I’m totally off base.”

Livvy nodded. “Probably the wise course to take.” By then, they’d reached the front desk and Livvy dismissed Morty to return to his cart of returned books.

“Would you mind looking into it for me?” Kate asked Livvy. “I have a hair appointment at Betty’s in a few minutes, and besides, I know you’d find the information in a fraction of the time it would take me.”

Just then, five more preschoolers and their teacher appeared at the front desk with books to check out.

“Mind if I do it once the crowd thins out?” she asked.

“When you get the chance,” Kate said. “I’ll swing by later.”

“Don’t worry. I won’t forget!”

KATE PAGED THROUGH an old Redbook magazine as she waited on the padded bench in Betty’s Beauty Parlor. All three chairs were filled with women, and a fourth woman was sitting under the noisy dryer in the corner.

The beauty shop was a time capsule in perfect early 1960s vintage. Even though Betty had taken over the establishment fifteen years before, it remained a testament to her predecessors. Posters of blond Doris Day wannabes hung on the walls, the backgrounds faded to a pale puce color. The scent of perm solution was ever present, whether someone was getting a perm that day or not. The chairs looked as though they hadn’t been changed since they’d been installed. They were a salmon-colored vinyl with white piping along their seams, and they complemented the white-and-aqua-checkerboard floor. There was a shampoo room in the back, with a couple of sinks and a desk across from them that served as Betty’s office.

One of the women rose from her seat, gazing at herself in the mirror and touching her newly styled hair. It was a short, short pixie cut, carrot red in color. Kate hadn’t seen many fifty-year-olds with such a style, yet she had to admit it did look good with the woman’s green eyes.

“Wow,” the patron said. “This is going to surprise Bob so much.” She moved to the counter to pay her bill, then gave a quick wave and left.

“That means you’re up, Mrs. Hanlon,” Betty said. She was a cute woman, with short bleached-blond hair and gray eyes. Kate didn’t know her real well yet, but with her regular visits for manicures, cuts, and stylings, she knew they’d become very familiar soon, especially the way the woman liked to talk.

Kate and Betty made their way to the farthest chair, passing the other two stylists, who were chatting and cutting hair. Both girls looked to be in their twenties, fresh out of cosmetology school. Kate set her purse on the floor alongside the chair, then sat down. Betty draped a large vinyl bib around her, fastening it behind her neck. It covered her lap completely.

“So, what’s it going to be today?” She fingered Kate’s strawberry blond locks. “I could give you some highlights, make that red more dramatic.” She raised her eyebrows at Kate in the mirror and smiled.

“No,” Kate said. “That’s okay. Just wash it up and give me a trim, I think. And a manicure?” She held up her hands for Betty to see. “This polish is looking tired, and my cuticles could use some freshening.”

“Good enough.” Betty nodded.

She and Kate walked to the shampooing station, where Kate took a seat. Betty leaned Kate back so that her head rested in the crook of the hair-washing sink. The warm water felt good on Kate’s scalp. Betty sudsed it up with gentle hands, rinsed, then added conditioner and rinsed that as well.

“You’re squeaky clean,” she said as she helped Kate sit upright and wrapped a towel around her hair turban-style. Then she removed the towel, still pressing it against Kate’s hair to soak up as much excess water as possible. They returned to Betty’s chair out front.

“So, what have you been up to this fine day?” Betty asked as she reached for a comb and started running it through Kate’s hair.

“Nothing much,” Kate said. “I spent a little time with the Lord, then came down to the library for some...research.”

“Research, you say? Are you writing a paper or something?”

“Nothing like that. Just looking at some old birth records.”

“Hmm.” Betty moved to the other side of Kate’s head and combed that side as well. “I heard through the grapevine that you’ve been visiting the Harrises a lot lately.”

Kate was stunned. “How...how did you hear that?”

“Their neighbor, Mrs. Healy, said she’s seen you coming and going. Oh, she didn’t say anything bad,” Betty quickly added. “Just that she’s seen your car there a lot and that Marissa is terribly sick.”

“I’ve been...helping out here and there,” Kate said. “Bringing a few meals.” She gave a shrug.

“I wish more people would get out of their little boxes and look after the needs of others like that. What is this world if people don’t care about their neighbors?”

Kate found herself feeling uncomfortable with the thread of conversation, yet the woman went on. “And those Harrises...if any family has been out there helping others, it’s them. Ray used to volunteer with Habitat for Humanity. You know he was an electrician? ’Course you knew that. And Patricia...she was always there for all the school events, that one parent who went on every field trip.”

Betty reached for the scissors and began to trim Kate’s hair. How the woman could concentrate on her job and talk at the same time, Kate wasn’t sure.

“And it wasn’t easy for her, having Marissa at such a young age. Of course, Ray was quite a few years older than her. And her parents...Well, they were a different breed of people. She sure has changed since Ray’s passing.”

“Patricia?” Kate asked.

Betty nodded. “She used to come all the time before. Now I never see her. I wonder who’s doing her hair. Maybe she’s getting it done in Chattanooga...When I do see her, she seems eager to get away. Have you noticed that?”

Kate looked up at Betty. She had to admit what the woman was saying was true, at least of her early visits with Patricia. Kate nodded.

“It’s sad to see how some people just never get a break. Well, I guess her marriage was a good one, but with everything since...I mean it was bad enough that her parents didn’t even attend her wedding.”

“They didn’t?” Kate asked.

Betty shook her head. “Patricia told me once when she was getting her hair cut. I mean, what girl doesn’t want her own mother at her wedding? You know her folks never even met Ray before they got married? And there was always this...sadness about her. Even when Ray was alive. It was just under the surface, you know, like she’d break into tears if you mentioned that one sensitive spot. But I guess I could have been imagining it...”

That information wasn’t new, yet something about it resonated within her. She’d felt that way around Patricia too, as if there was a switch inside of her that, once tripped, would send forth a torrent of emotions. Hadn’t she seen it the last time she’d gone to visit, and when she’d discovered Patricia with the photo album? Kate had assumed it was because of Marissa’s illness and Ray’s death. But was it more? If she’d acted that way even while Ray was alive, surely there was another reason. But what?

WHEN KATE RETURNED to the library, all was quiet inside. The preschoolers had cleared out. Livvy was at her desk in her office, staring at her computer screen. She raised her head when Kate came in. Piles of new books and paperwork, puppets, and boxes of chocolates that would be the rewards for the upcoming adult readers’ challenge covered the surface of one of the long tables.

“Hey, nice hair,” Livvy said. “Betty didn’t talk you into a perm?”

“Not this time.” Kate pulled up a chair alongside Livvy’s. “So, what have you found out?”

Livvy cleared her throat, then said, “I went to Ask.com. Most people believe, as we do, that two blue-eyed parents can’t have a brown-eyed child. Yet, while it’s rare, it is possible. So, Ray and Patricia could have had Marissa, biologically speaking. But the odds are against it. It’s not likely that Marissa is both Patricia and Ray’s daughter.”

“Not exactly hard-and-fast evidence, is it?” Kate said. “Maybe I’m just spinning my wheels. But I keep getting this gut feeling, you know?”

“I know.”

“I don’t want to accuse Patricia of lying, and yet there’s just, well, more. I can’t get past her saying that she could stop Marissa’s suffering. And the way she hid that photo album...She’s hiding something, and I don’t know if I can help her fully unless I know what it is.”

Livvy nodded her understanding.

Kate paused in thought, then said more to herself than to Livvy, “Marissa told me that one time a friend of her mom’s brought her a brochure on adoption, and Patricia got very upset...”

“And...?”

“Why would she get so bent out of shape over adoption unless it was a sore spot in her own experience?”

“Perhaps Patricia herself was adopted. Maybe she found out her birth parents were in Chattanooga, and when she was in college, she contacted them.”

Kate considered that possibility. “One of them could be a potential marrow donor, so they might be able to help Marissa...That would account for Patricia’s statement. That’s something we could look into.”

“Or maybe Marissa isn’t her biological daughter. Maybe she was Ray’s daughter from a previous relationship, and Patricia adopted her?”

“Not likely,” Kate pointed out, “since Sam said the reason they weren’t able to have more kids was because of Ray’s infertility.”

They were silent for a few moments before Kate said, “Perhaps Ray adopted Marissa during a previous marriage. He was quite a bit older than Patricia was. That scenario would explain why Patricia herself isn’t a match. Of course, biological parents aren’t usually a match for such donations anyway. How long did you say Patricia lived in Chattanooga?”

Livvy thought for a moment before answering, “I remember she left town just after graduation my freshman year. Then when she came back, it was...” She paused again. “Two summers later?”

“How old was Marissa at that time?”

“I don’t remember,” Livvy said. “But she wasn’t a newborn.”

“Not much time for a courtship and pregnancy.”

SINCE IT WAS NEARING NOON, Livvy and Kate decided to head to the Country Diner for a bite to eat. Like every weekday at lunch, the place was jam-packed.

Kate and Livvy took a booth that looked out on the Town Green, though it was a patchwork of green and white at this time of year. All that remained of the snow cover were tall piles of white left from all the snowplows dumping their loads.

“So much for walking during my lunch break,” Livvy said, drawing her attention back to her menu.

“I guess it is warm enough, isn’t it?” Kate gazed at the menu. “But it doesn’t hurt to take a break every now and then. Besides, you wouldn’t want us to waste away.” She smiled at her own comment.

“There’s a high likelihood of that!” Livvy closed her menu.

“Decided what you’re going to order?” Kate glanced up. She smiled when she saw J. B. Packer in the kitchen. J.B. had been suspected of setting the fire at Faith Briar Church, but once he was proven innocent, he took a job as a part-time fry cook at the diner, filling in for owner and head chef Loretta sometimes.

“Catfish, I think. With stack cakes.”

“That sounds good. I’m leaning toward the chowder and a Reuben with Thousand Island dressing myself.”

Just then LuAnne Matthews appeared, her horn-rimmed glasses dangling from the jeweled chain that hung around her neck. Her green eyes sparkled at them. “Hey, Livvy, Kate. Y’all interested in today’s special? Meatball sandwiches with Cowboy Surprise?” the redhead said with a wink.

“What’s Cowboy Surprise?” Livvy asked.

“It wouldn’t be a surprise if I told you!” She laughed at her own joke, then said, “It’s a soup, kind of. More of a stew with baked beans and bacon.”

“I think I’ll pass,” Kate said with a smirk.

“Your loss,” LuAnne said. “I had it this mornin’, and it wasn’t so bad.”

They gave LuAnne their orders, then she hurried to greet new patrons at the front door.

Kate reached for her glass of ice water and took a sip.

“So, I think we’ve established that Ray wasn’t Marissa’s biological dad,” Livvy said.

“I’ve never heard anyone say a thing about Patricia being an unwed mother though. Wouldn’t word of that have got-ten out? You went to youth group with her. Was that ever mentioned?”

“Maybe gossiped about, but I was a junior in high school, so I didn’t exactly pay attention.”

“Then the option that Marissa was adopted is still valid—either after Patricia and Ray were married or...” Kate said.

“No twenty-year-old would be allowed to adopt,” Livvy said. “There are minimum age requirements and length of marriage rules that come into play. I can’t see that as a viable alternative. And most girls that age wouldn’t choose adoption as their first option. That’s usually taken up after failing to conceive biologically.”

“Unless they had ideals about the social responsibility of adoption.”

“Still, it wouldn’t be allowed.”

“Did I hear you two talking about Marissa Harris?” Renee Lambert suddenly appeared at their table, her dog Kisses markedly absent from her purse, where he liked to reside. Kate hadn’t even heard her approach, so she was startled by her comment.

“Uh...” Kate said, then cleared her throat. “Would you like to have a seat, Renee?”

Livvy scooted over on her side of the booth, and Renee slid in.

“I overheard you both talking, and I just had to come over,” Renee said, leaning across the table and talking in a whisper.

Kate and Livvy exchanged glances.

“Where’s your dog?” Livvy asked, changing the subject.

“Oh, Kisses had a hair appointment. I’ll pick him up in an hour or so, after his massage.”

At seeing Livvy’s raised eyebrow, it was all Kate could do to not burst out laughing.

“I know for a fact,” Renee went on, “that Patricia Harris is the biological mother of Marissa.” She leaned in and spoke in a low voice. “I saw a very pregnant Patricia once when I was in Chattanooga, though I wasn’t totally sure it was her at the time. I’d gone to town to do some sightseeing and visit my Aunt Ruth. She has long since died, but she was a dear woman. She liked to collect ironstone—you’d appreciate her collection, Kate. Well, we were walking along, and I glanced across the street, and who do you think I saw?”

“Patricia?” Kate and Livvy said in unison.

Renee nodded. “She was pregnant all right. I’d never seen anyone so large. She’d gained a lot of weight. I mean, she looked like she had a basketball under her dress, and that was in early August. I was across the street that day in Chattanooga, but I was fairly certain it was her.”

She raised a hand for LuAnne to come to the table. When the waitress arrived, Renee asked for a glass of lemon water and placed an order for the blackened chicken salad.

As if to say, “Making yourself at home, are we?” LuAnne lifted an eyebrow, which almost made Kate laugh again. Then she shook her head at her friend, who went back to waitressing.

“Well,” Renee went on once LuAnne left, “I was going to say hello to her, but before I could cross the street, a bus passed between us. When it had passed, she’d disappeared. I thought she went into a large gray and white Victorian house on Germantown Road, but it had a security system, and I couldn’t get in.”

“Hmm,” Kate said. “Let me ask you this, then. Could Patricia have been adopted herself when she was a child? Did you know her parents?”

“The Longs?” Renee scrunched up her face. “That’s an odd question.”

“Do you think she could have been?” Kate pressed.

“No. I don’t think so. Patricia looked a lot like her mother. They were too much alike for that.” Renee touched the side of her perfectly styled hair as if checking to make sure it was still in place. “I didn’t tell anyone anything about seeing her back then,” she continued, returning to her earlier train of thought. “She wasn’t married yet, at least not that I’d heard. But then she came back to Copper Mill even though she had no family here. That seemed odd to me, very odd. What’s the point of living in a small town if you don’t have family nearby?”

AFTER LIVVY RETURNED TO WORK and Renee excused herself to pick up Kisses from his spa treatment, Kate sat alone at the table. The story she’d come up with seemed simple enough. Patricia had gotten pregnant in high school. Who the father was, Kate had no idea. She wondered if Patricia’s high-school boyfriend had brown eyes. What was his name? Mack...Mark? No, Matt. Matt Reilly. Upon learning of her illegitimate pregnancy, Patricia moved to Chattanooga under the guise of attending college when she was in fact entering a home for unwed mothers. There she met Ray. They fell in love, got married, and moved back to Copper Mill. It was simple, and none of Kate’s business. Plenty of people had babies out of wedlock—it was hardly a big mystery.

Yet several thoughts still niggled at her. First, Marissa had never been told that Ray was anything other than the loving father she’d known him to be. Kate wondered if the bright girl had ever put two and two together on her own. She was, after all, studying for the medical field. Surely she’d learned basic genetic theory. Then again, what child would want to believe such things about her mother? Kate knew plenty of people who chose to believe improbabilities because of the hurt the truth would no doubt bring.

While she didn’t think keeping that secret from Marissa was necessarily the best course for Patricia to take, she could understand how such a thing could happen.

Second, there was still the question of what Patricia meant when she’d said she could end Marissa’s suffering. Was she thinking she could find Marissa’s biological father to see if he could be a bone-marrow donor? That was entirely possible. Yet why keep it all a secret now, when finding help for Marissa was so urgent?

And finally, what secret could that photo album hold—the album Patricia so obviously wanted to hide from her? If she discovered the answer to that question, Kate reasoned, she’d know the answer to all the others.

“YOU’RE DEEP IN THOUGHT.” LuAnne interrupted Kate’s musing as she refilled Kate’s water glass.

“I’m sorry.” Kate glanced up at the freckle-faced waitress, whose expression held concern. “I’m fine. Just thinking about the Harrises.”

LuAnne set the water pitcher on the blue Formica tabletop and plopped down on the seat opposite Kate in the booth. She glanced around the now-quiet restaurant as if to make sure she wasn’t leaving any patrons unattended, then she said, “You’ve been spendin’ a lot of time with Patricia Harris lately, haven’t you?”

Kate nodded, then took a sip of her ice water.

“There’s something I need to tell you,” LuAnne began.

“Oh?”

“I heard you talkin’ to Renee and Livvy...” She dabbed her brow with the hem of her white polyester apron. “You see, Patricia dated my nephew Matt in high school.”

Kate raised her head. “Matt was your nephew?”

“He was a great kid. Amazing baseball player, was MVP in the conference for three years running. I have his picture in my purse somewhere.” She scooted out of the booth and waddled to the counter, then returned with a voluminous, flowered cloth bag, which she opened and began to dig through. Finally she pulled out an aged graduation picture of the boy. He wore a baseball jersey with the number fifty-four on it. He was good looking, with dark hair and deep brown eyes. It was like looking at a male version of Marissa.

“Wow,” Kate mouthed.

“You see it too, don’t you?” LuAnne’s eyes were fixed on the picture. “When Patricia came home with that dark-eyed baby, I knew right away who she was. We all thought Patricia and Matt would get married after high school. It was such a surprise when they broke up. Then Patricia turned up married to someone else two years later, and with a baby no less. Matt was heartbroken. I think he was sure the two of them would get back together someday.”

“Where is he living now?” Kate asked, her thoughts on the very real possibility that if this was indeed Marissa’s biological father, he could be the key to her survival.

LuAnne’s eyes clouded at the question, and she reached for a napkin from the stainless-steel napkin dispenser at the far end of the table. “Matt...” she began. “He died about four years after that picture was taken. He had so much hope, yet he...” She couldn’t say another word. She held up a hand and took a deep breath. “His college roommate found him in his bed—he’d had a heart attack at twenty-two.”

NOW KATE UNDERSTOOD why Patricia Harris had closed herself into her own safe cocoon. People did that when tragedy surrounded them. It felt safe there, as if nothing could touch them. But something had touched her, hadn’t it?

Kate found Livvy at the library after her talk with LuAnne.

Livvy tucked a strand of her auburn hair behind her ear and said, “So Matt Reilly was Marissa’s dad. I guess that makes sense. It was so sad when he died. Shocking would be the word.” She took a deep breath. “So, there’s nothing left for us to figure out. You should talk to Patricia—”

“That’s not entirely true,” Kate said. “There are some questions I still have, like why keep all of this a secret from Marissa?”

“A lot of adoptive parents do the same,” Livvy said. “If Ray adopted Marissa, even if it wasn’t a legal transaction, I could see the reason for not telling her.”

“But in these dire circumstances, wouldn’t you want the truth to be known?”

“I might not if I were Patricia, especially since she knows Matt died.”

“Which leads me to the thing I can’t get past,” Kate went on. “If Matt’s gone, then what did Patricia mean by saying she could save Marissa? And what was in that photo album?”

“There could have been pictures of Matt...Maybe he came to see Marissa when she was born.”

“But you still haven’t answered my first question,” Kate probed.

Livvy threw up her hands. “I’m not coming up with a logical answer!”

Kate smiled at her friend and said, “We looked up birth records for Copper Mill, but we never tried the Chattanooga ones. Do you have those here at the library as well? It would make sense, since that was where she was living at the time.”

“Of course!” They walked back to the microfilm files, and Livvy pulled up the pages from the Chattanooga paper and quickly scanned through, looking for any birth announcements that would match Marissa’s birth date. Kate watched over her shoulder, scanning along with her. Then they looked at each other and gasped.