I took my order to a small table in the coffee shop, away from any prying ears and I impatiently waited. My mind was awhirl, still wrestling with what to say first. There were so many questions I wanted to ask, I didn't know where to start.
She came in and ordered her drink, and I watched my mother carrying her drink when she approached the table. I still hadn't really decided on what I would say or what I wanted to know. I only learned what this was about after her call the previous evening. So, when she sat down across from me, I said the first things on my mind, blurting out, "Erik said he told you what he found. Did you tell him who it was? Did dad know? How could you do that to him? To us? Why didn't you ever tell us?"
I fired the questions out so fast, it must have sounded like I was babbling, but I was still in shock. When mom called the previous evening, she kept it short, just saying there was something she needed to discuss with me face-to-face and not over the phone. Minutes after she hung up, my youngest brother, well that's no longer completely true either, but nevertheless Erik called and told me!
Now I found it hard to believe our mother could sit there in front of me looking so calm about it!
"Take a breath, Linda," she said, using a calm conversational tone. "If you want to learn anything, then you need to pause to listen," and she was using that instructional tone as usual, which I always found insulting, as if she's dismissing my feelings or treating me like a child.
"Now, wouldn't it be exciting to learn something new?" she asked in a cheerful tone, as if talking to a toddler, then went on scolding the adult in me with "Or do you just want to shout your accusations in ignorance?"
I took several deep breaths, as I sat here fuming with this family secret now coming out.
Erik, my youngest sibling was in college, and as part of one of his elective courses was tasked to research a family link to some event in history. Looking into our genealogy, he eventually sent off for one of those DNA test kits and asked me to use it, and for me to give him access to the online results. I didn't ask him why, and it didn't dawn on me at the time that he should be the one taking the DNA test for our family ancestry. But I swabbed my throat and sent the test off two months earlier.
So, when mom called, I'd already forgotten about that test. She said she wanted to talk to me about something private without my friend and roommate, Lana, around. We agreed to meet here in the coffee shop today. Then Erik called me right after she hung up and told me what he found in our DNA!
When I didn't reply to my mother about shouting in ignorance, she calmly began, "Your father was in the Army for four years, starting right after college. His unit deployed to the war zone for his first time for one year. The army unit's family support group was a great help for those of us left behind, occasionally organizing get-togethers so we could talk to each other, and offer to help each other whenever we could. While we waited for our spouse to return, most of us were raising our kids in our single-parent homes a long way from any close family to help us. Do you know how hard it is raising three toddlers by yourself, and trying to work a part-time job?"
"I don't have kids, but I can guess," I answered.
"I wasn't much older than you are now," she continued. "but with three kids. I was busy every morning getting you and your brother up and off to school and dropping your younger brother off at daycare. Then I'd go to work and after a few hours, pick you three up from two locations, stop to shop for food, cook dinner, go over homework with you, and settle the three of you into bed every night. Then do it again and again, day after day, week after week, twenty-four-seven. A year at your age seems like forever. After a month or two, it feels like there's no end in sight!"
She paused for effect to let that sink in, maybe expecting me to apologize for implying she did anything wrong. I just said, "It's the job you chose," and I glared at her, still waiting to be enlightened to her side of Erik's story.
"Do you remember your young friend, Jillie, when you were in kindergarten?" mom asked. "You used to have sleepovers. Remember?"
"Yeah," I finally answered. "I remember a few of those times. But she stopped visiting. I don't know what ever happened to her."
"Jillie's mom was a truck driver in your dad's unit," mom explained "and Jillie's mom was deployed at the same time. In the modern Army, it's not just wives left behind, but there are husbands, too, with the same problems of raising kids alone. Your little friend, Jillie, missed her mom, and her dad told us at one of the family support meetings that he wished his daughter had someone like her mother around to talk to. So, I suggested he bring her over to our house for playdates with you. When Jillie's dad dropped her off one evening for her first sleepover with you, he planned to come by early the next morning to pick her up. That was three months after your dad was gone, and by then I missed having another adult in the evenings to talk to. I invited him to stay for a glass of wine. After the second bottle was empty, I told him he had too much to drink and shouldn't drive. And why should he waste time driving home, just to come back again in a few hours to pick her up?"
"Jillie and I had a lot of sleepovers," I said as I realized where this was going, now understanding. "... Did dad know?" I asked, trusting that she'd tell the truth, since dad wasn't alive anymore to ask.
"I was so busy and distracted," mom said. "With the stress of taking care of you kids and constantly worrying about your dad, that stress threw my body clock off. I learned too late that extreme stress can make birth control pills less reliable, and my periods weren't regular. I was already three months pregnant before I realized it. When the clinic doctor confirmed it, your dad still wasn't due back for another few months. So, I couldn't even think of hiding it or pretending it was his. But your dad was still there with me for the birth."
And there it was; "My baby brother, Erik is Jillie's half-brother, too," I said, and mom just acknowledged with a nod of her head.
"Erik learned from his DNA test that he had a half-sister he never heard of," mom replied. "That's why he asked the three of you to take those tests."
"That must have crushed dad," I said sadly. "Did you love him? Jillie's dad, I mean. Or did you stop loving dad?" I wasn't ready yet to even think about whether Jillie's mom knew or how she must have reacted when she came back from the war. One thing at a time.
"Of course, I loved your dad," mom said harshly. "But that has nothing to do with having someone there when you need them. I told your father before he left for the deployment that I would understand if he got some relief with another woman in that war zone. So, before he returned, I was honest. I contacted him and told him I was pregnant. He still came back to me, to us. That's what love is, always wanting the best for each other, and still wanting to be together. I knew what he did when he was deployed. He wasn't a saint, either. And he knew what I did while he was away. We still wanted to be with each other whenever he wasn't deployed."
"But you cuckolded him!" I exclaimed. "I mean REALLY cuckolded him, with another man's child and everything!"
"And he messed around when he was deployed," mom said, casually, easily as if it didn't mean anything. "I pointed out that he might have impregnated one of his flings, and we still didn't know if one of them might come after him for child support. I don't know how many other half-siblings you kids might find with these new DNA tests. But Erik's the only one by me. Your dad was honest about his extra-marital activities. So, he couldn't hold it against me when I had that accident, and I didn't realize it until it was too late. Your father and I resolved our issues."
I just shook my head, only half believing what she was saying.
One of the reasons I wasn't seriously dating any one guy was I didn't want to deal with a guy's insecurities and jealousy. Neither Lana nor I were seriously looking for a husband to settle down. We were just sport-fucking for the fun of it, with most men backing away after a few dates, unable to accept our free-spirited natures. And here was my mother basically telling me that's exactly what she and dad did after they were married! They messed around and stayed together!
"Love doesn't require sex," mom continued. "There are couples who love each other, even when one can't perform. And sex doesn't require love, just lust, stress, or loneliness! Ultimately, love is not about sex but rather wanting each other more than anything or anyone else. Yes, it's nice to start out vowing to 'forsake all others.' But over time, things change. When you're forced apart for a long time, the temptations are sometimes impossible to resist. Your dad and I did want each other! But we couldn't have each other all the time. When we were together, I made sure your father always wanted to come back to me!"
Incredible as that may sound, it was something I would never forget.
My brothers and I never found any other half-siblings, ... yet. But it's a big world.
A Few Years later:
Lana and I were lying on a beach, treating ourselves to some girl-time together after she returned from her latest two-week get-away. We were wearing micro-bikinis and enjoying the sunny day. We chose these outfits to maximize our tans on as much exposed skin as possible. We didn't want any tan lines showing with whatever else we might wear later. We were both comfortable enough with our bodies to lay out here in the nude, ignoring any gawkers who would enjoy the view. But this wasn't that kind of beach.
Lana sat up on her beach towel, handing me her cellphone.
"Here, Linda. Take a picture of me to update my Facebook photos." Then she stood and walked a few steps down the sand toward the water as I aimed the phone camera at her and began clicking pics.
