Chapter Twenty-Four
Devon searched the house until she found Claire in her room examining the painting of the Shawnodese.
“You’re not a dog or a wolf,” Claire murmured. “You are, in fact, coyote.”
“Hello, Mother.”
Claire jumped. “Oh you scared me Devon. No, your mother is not here. She’s downstairs on the lanai having her tea.”
“Actually, she is right here in front of me,” Devon replied. Her tight smile felt like a snarl. A growl rose in her throat but Devon swallowed it down.
Claire chuckled and gave an awkward snort. She turned back to the painting and gnawed on her lower lip, as if hoping Devon would disappear.
“Aren’t you sick of the lies?”
“Infirm and ailing from them,” Claire whispered.
“Then heal yourself and admit the truth.”
“Trevor was adopted. He’s not related to you at all. That should be a comfort.”
“Yes, it’s fabulous you love birds didn’t push me into an incestuous relationship. Bravo Claire!”
“He doesn’t know he was adopted, I beg you to keep this secret for me. He’s innocent in all this.”
“You have a lot of secrets, don’t you, Mother?” Devon replied. She spit out the word mother as if it was bitter in her mouth. “Am I another minor detail in your ridiculous plan?
Claire appraised her with eyes that said they had never met. “Secrets, yes, I have a few. And you are no minor detail.”
“I see it clearly now. My mother wanted kids, you didn’t. She couldn’t conceive and you could. So Burke Danforth is my father and you are my mother?”
“No, Analise is your mother.” Claire puffed out her chest and attempted to sidle past Devon.
Devon grabbed Claire’s arm hard enough to make her yelp. Devon found a measure of guilt in the pleasure she felt. She got in Claire’s face, amused by the shock in her eyes and her sudden lack of composure. Devon pressed her against the doorjamb.
“Yes, Analise is my mother. Now admit I am your biological daughter.”
Claire wrestled Devon to get out the door.
“You have betrayed those you feared would destroy you. All along, you were your worst enemy. Growth escalates as you seek answers in the south. At the end of the dark night is a beautiful dawn. Purge your heart with honesty before you drown in your emotions. Be free, be buoyant. Float, Mother Duck.”
Devon felt Claire shiver. A moan escaped her.
“What did you say?” she whispered to Devon.
It was something Devon never thought she’d live to see. Claire buried her face in her hands and shuddered with great, wailing sobs. Years of suppressed emotions rushed in a torrent. Devon guided Claire to the bed and sat next to her, rocking her, soothing her naturally. She felt her anger wash away as the waves subsided.
“Analise was devastated when she couldn’t conceive,” Claire whispered. “All she ever wanted was a child. She became tragically depressed. She hardly ate and wouldn’t leave the house. She mourned for the child she could never have. Burke was sterile and she hated him anyway. An opportunity arose for me to adopt and I took it, hoping it would satisfy her, but it didn’t. She wanted her own child, she wanted a girl.” She looked up at Devon and tried to smile. “She wanted you.”
“Why didn’t she adopt?”
“She wanted to have a child with me. She wanted it to be mine.”
“I guess I can see that,” Devon agreed. She looked down at Claire’s hand realizing how similar it was to her own. She did resemble Claire more than she ever noticed. They shared the same flawless complexion, the same sky-blue eyes, and raven hair. Analise was blonde, her father was a redhead. Devon looked nothing like them.
“Who is my father?”
Claire shook her head. “Analise wanted to choose the donor and it wasn’t difficult for her to decide. We often vacationed in Utah. Analise bought the cabin as a getaway for us. That is where we conceived you. Please don’t tell your mother. It would break her heart to know you knew.”
“I think it’s about time the truth was spoken. I want to know who my father is. I deserve to know the details of my own life. Who am I?”
Analise had been standing in the doorway, listening. It must have been a while because she held a folder in her hands.
“His name is Jason Wolfe. He was a beautiful Native American man we befriended,” Analise explained.
“Why couldn’t you conceive me?” Devon asked Analise.
Analise shook her head and stared at the folder she held. “Everything is in this folder. I kept this for you in case you ever found out and wanted to know. Every detail is here, from my medical prognosis to your birth father’s lineage. There are photos of him.”
“He was our ski instructor, such an amazing athlete, as well as a History professor at the University. Jason was the only person in the world who knew about Analise and me. It was a freedom we shared and basked in his acceptance, and the knowledge that he would never betray our secret. He never disrespected our union.”
“Yes, a true gentleman in every sense of the word,” Analise agreed. She handed Devon the folder. “He was a member and leader of a secret society.”
Devon hesitated before opening the folder. It was all happening too fast. Her mother wasn’t her mother. Claire was her mother. Her father wasn’t her father. Trevor was adopted. Her head was swimming and she felt as if she was falling down a dark hole. What secret society? Why so many secrets?
“Do you mind if I do this alone?” she murmured.
Analise and Claire left the room.
She drew a deep sigh, letting the new information absorb. Things were clicking into place. Jason Wolfe.
Devon opened the folder and studied the photo with an unsteady hand. It was a snapshot of Claire and Analise flanking a handsome man. The group was in ski garb, their faces kissed by the wintry wind. His eyes looked at her, twinkling with their secret. Had Claire been pregnant there?
Devon felt familiarity in his amber eyes. His gaze was soulful and faraway, almost wild, a stark contrast to his gleaming smile. He wore his black hair at his shoulders. She touched her hair. Devon was shocked to see how much she also resembled this stranger. He wasn’t a stranger because she had seen him before. She knew him.
She fell back on her bed and stared at the photo. She placed it on her heart and focused on a trivial crack in the ceiling, tracing it with her eyes. It had no origin or end. Devon readjusted her vision and she was able to see.
* * * *
Claire had always been a stunning woman with striking features set on fire by her immutable persona. Analise was adorable and demure with a sweet and ready smile. In Devon’s vision, Claire and Analise were about twenty-five. It was remarkable to see them through a woman’s eye.
It was a December night. They had dozens of candles positioned around the wide room. The sofa bed open, flames crackled in the fireplace. Snow rapped at the windows, Etta James sang in the background. Analise and Claire, naked in repose, warmed by the crackling fire. They began to kiss in a most loving and romantic way. Analise writhed on top of Claire whispering words of love. Devon wanted to close her eyes to block out the vision, however her eyes were already closed and the image played out whether she deigned to witness it or not. Analise brought a sheet over them, never disengaging from their kiss.
Jason Wolfe appeared from the shadows and took his place on the bed. Devon was grateful when the vision receded. Devon heard Analise whisper.
“I love you, Claire, I love you, Claire. This is our baby.”
* * * *
Devon felt their love and knew she was born from a sacred union. She studied the photos of her ‘mothers’ with Jason Wolfe, again stunned by the intensity of his amber eyes. She looked over Analise’s medical records and was taken aback to discover she had overcome ovarian cancer. Analise had also included a copy of Jason Wolfe’s birth certificate, as well as a copy of his family lineage. A word popped out from the page detailing his relatives. Devon said it aloud, realizing it was not difficult to pronounce, although she liked Two Stars better.
When she found the legs to stand, Devon went to her mother’s room. She found her dozing.
“Do you know what you’ve done?” Devon whispered.
Her mother’s eyes fluttered open. “Devon.”
“Do you know what you’ve done? What you have created?”
Analise tried to smile. “Not create, perpetuate.”
Devon scowled and stormed out. She rushed to her room, packed a bag, and gathered Moon. It was time to face her birthright.