The Bishop's Daughter (7 page)

Beth and Eric Walters were good people, and they’d raised three of the nicest boys Jimmy had ever known. He knew they wouldn’t think any less of him if he told them he’d been adopted, but he needed more time to think about all this before he discussed it with anyone.

His hazy mind swept over the events of last night one more time, and he gritted his teeth in an attempt to control his swirling emotions. Maybe some time at the beach would make him feel better. Ever since he’d gotten his driver’s license, he had often gone to Owen Beach or someplace along the waterfront to think and pray, and he’d always felt closer to God whenever he was near the water.

A short time later, Jimmy drove into the park and headed through the stretch of road known as Five Mile Drive. He let his pickup coast down the hill leading to the beach. When he found a parking place not far from the water, he parked, turned off the engine, and stepped out of the truck.

As the salty, fresh air teased Jimmy’s senses, he drew in a deep, cleansing breath. For one brief moment, he felt as if things could be right in his world again. But then he thought about Mom’s letter, and his confusion resurfaced.

He hopped across a couple of logs and jogged up the rocky beach,
hoping to work off his frustrations. The brackish air blew against his face and felt invigorating, yet it was almost painful. “I wish I could splash paint thinner over the last twenty-one years of my life,” he hollered into the wind. “If only Mom and Dad had told me I was adopted from the very beginning.”

On and on, Jimmy ran, trying to block out the pain and focus his thoughts on something other than his adoption. Finally, in a state of emotional and physical exhaustion, Jimmy halted below the pier. Eager fishermen leaned against the railing with their fishing poles hung over the sides. He drew in a breath and bent over at the waist, trying to calm his racing heart.

His stomach growled as the smell of deep-fried fish and steamed butter clams tickled his nose. He glanced at the deck outside Anthony’s Restaurant. People sat around tables eating with friends and admiring the view of Commencement Bay. Jimmy realized then that he hadn’t had anything to eat since breakfast. He was tempted to grab a bite at the restaurant but decided against it.

“I doubt I could keep anything down,” he mumbled. “What I need more than food is some answers.” He turned and started back up the beach. “It’s time to go home. It’s time for a serious talk with Dad.”

As Jim passed the health food store near the entrance of the Tacoma Mall, his thoughts turned to Linda. In conjunction with chemotherapy, radiation, and several surgeries, she had tried various kinds of vitamins, herbs, and homeopathic remedies during her bout with cancer. While nothing had cured her disease, she had found some relief from her pain, and he figured the vitamins she’d taken might have helped strengthen her immune system, which had given her a bit more time.

He glanced at the stack of bodybuilding nutrients displayed in the store window.
Maybe I should go inside and see if they have anything to help calm my nerves
. He’d thought about stopping somewhere after work for a couple of drinks, but in case Jimmy decided to come home this evening, Jim wanted to be sure he was sober and able to carry on an intelligent conversation.

“Yeah, right. Like anything I’ve ever done was intelligent,” he mumbled.

“May I help you, sir?”

Jim studied the woman who had been stocking shelves near the front door. Her skin was smooth, with barely a wrinkle, and her short blond hair was shiny and thick. If she was as healthy as she looked and it was due to the products sold here, then he figured he had come to the right place. “I—uh—do you have anything that might help a person relax?” he asked.

“I sell several herbal preparations that seem to work pretty well.” She smiled, and her pale blue eyes appeared to scrutinize him. “Say, you look familiar. Aren’t you Jimmy Scott’s dad?”

Jim nodded. “How do you know my son?”

“We go to the same church, and I believe I’ve seen you there for some of the programs Jimmy’s been in.” She extended her hand. “I’m Holly Simmons, the owner of this store.”

Another religious fanatic, no doubt
. He forced a smile and shook her hand. “My name’s Jim.”

Holly motioned to the back of the store. “The herbal and homeopathic remedies are right this way.”

“Did Leona go inside?” Lydia asked her husband when she stepped onto the front porch.

“We visited a few minutes, and then she said she was going to get supper started.”

“Did she show her new glasses to you?”

“Jah, the optical shop sure took their time gettin’ them done, wouldn’t ya say?”

Lydia shrugged. “It’s just as well if you ask me. If our daughter had gotten her glasses any sooner, she’d have insisted on going back to teach at the schoolhouse.”

He nodded. “I think you’re right about that.”

“Did she tell you she’s planning to go there on Friday?”

“Jah.”

“I hope you told her it wasn’t a good idea.”

“Now why would I say that?”

“Because her naas still hurts, and I’m sure she can’t last the whole day with those glasses on her face,” Lydia said with a click of her tongue.

“Maybe she won’t have to wear ’em all day.”

“What do you mean?”

“There’s to be a picnic on Friday, so she won’t be expected to teach the whole day. If her naas starts hurtin’, she can take the glasses off. Besides, I’ll be drivin’ her to and from school, so she won’t have to worry about that, either.”

Lydia pursed her lips and shook her head. “I think Leona pushes herself too hard. She uses her job of teaching to cover up the pain of losing Ezra, too.”

“It’s good for her to keep busy, and she needs a purpose, Lydia.” Jacob bent over and scratched Leona’s dog behind its ears.

“I suppose you’re right. I just hope she works through her grief soon.” Lydia trudged across the porch, gave the screen door handle a sharp pull, and went inside.

Jimmy entered the house through the back door, figuring his dad would be in the kitchen eating dinner by now. He was right. Jim sat at the kitchen table with a bowl of soup in front of him. A couple of store-bought rolls were wedged on a plate, and a glass of milk sat to the right of it. At least it wasn’t a bottle of beer this time.

As soon as the door clicked shut, his dad turned around. “I’m glad you’re home. We need to talk.”

“Yeah. That’s why I’m here.” Jimmy struggled with the desire to rush downstairs and hide out in his darkroom, but there were too many questions he needed to have answered. He strode across the room, pulled out a chair, and took a seat at the table.

“I was worried about you last night when you didn’t come home,” Dad said. “I wish you would have called.”

“I spent the night at Allen’s.”

“So I heard.”

Jimmy didn’t bother to ask who had told. He figured Allen’s
mother had probably phoned to let Jim know where he was. That’s how Beth was—always thinking of others. She’d been a real help to Mom—especially during her illness.

“Did you tell the Walters about being adopted?”

Jimmy shook his head. “I haven’t told anyone yet.”

“I’m sorry about the way you found out, Jimmy. I should have kept my promise to your mother and told you sooner.” Dad lifted the glass of milk to his lips and took a drink. “You were probably old enough to hear the truth by the time you were sixteen.”

“Sixteen? Why didn’t you just tell me the truth as soon as I was old enough to understand the concept of adoption? What’d you think I was going to do—run away from home?”

Dad shrugged. “I—I don’t know. We were just afraid you wouldn’t understand or might think we didn’t love you as much because—”

“Because I wasn’t your flesh-and-blood son?”

“Yeah.”

“I’ve always known you and Mom loved me.” Jimmy shifted on his chair and inhaled slowly. “I’ve thought about this a lot in the last twenty-four hours, and I need some answers, Dad. I need to know who my birth mother was.”

“She lived in Maryland, just like your mother’s letter said.” A muscle in Dad’s cheek quivered, and Jimmy realized he wasn’t the only one struggling with a bundle of emotions.

“I think I’d like to try and find her, and see if I can learn who my real dad is, too.”

Jim’s forehead wrinkled as his eyebrows pulled together in a frown. “I—I hope you’re not planning to go looking for them. That would be a huge mistake, Jimmy.”

“Why would it be a mistake?”

“Think about it. If they gave you up, then it’s pretty obvious that they didn’t want any contact with you.”

“They didn’t love me? Is that what you’re saying?”

“I’m not saying that at all.” Dad pushed away from the table and headed over to the refrigerator. He removed a can of beer and flipped open the lid.

Jimmy’s fist came down on the table. “Can’t we have this conversation without you having to get liquored up?”

Dad sank to a chair and took a swig from the can. “I’m not
liquored
up. This is the first beer I’ve had all day.”

They sat there for several minutes, both staring at the table, and the silence that permeated the room felt like a heavy fog creeping across the waters of Puget Sound bay. Wasn’t Dad going to tell him anything? Didn’t he want him to know any of the details of his adoption?

“I don’t know what I’m going to do,” Jimmy said, “but if I decide to search for my roots, I’ll need to have as much information as you can give me.”

Dad’s next words came out slowly, almost as though he had rehearsed them. “I don’t know the name of your biological parents. The lawyer said your mother was a single parent and couldn’t provide for you.”

“What about my father? What’d he say about him?”

“Nothing much—just that your birth mother had severed ties with him and that he’d married someone else and was living in another state. Oh, and that he had signed away all parental rights to their baby.”

Jimmy swallowed and slowly released his breath. He couldn’t imagine anyone giving up their paternal rights, but then he’d never been put in the position his real parents had been in, either. “Maybe I ought to call your lawyer here and see what he can tell me.”

“Max moved several years ago, and I’m not even sure he’s still alive.” Dad placed his fingertips against his forehead, moving them up and down, then back and forth in a circular motion.

“Then maybe I should call the lawyer in Maryland. Do you have his phone number?”

“I—I—uh—it might be in the safe with your adoption papers.”

“Can you get it for me?”

Dad dropped his hands to the table, clenching and unclenching his fingers. “Uh—well—”

“I need some answers, Dad.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know you do.” Dad stood and grabbed up his dishes, hauling them over to the sink.

“Are you going to help me with this or not?” Jimmy asked, feeling more frustrated with each passing moment.

“I’ll see what I can do.”

“You’ll let me look through the safe for those adoption papers?”

“No!”

“Why not?”

Dad moved back to the table. “How about this—I’ll look for the lawyer’s phone number, and then I’ll give him a call and see what I can find out for you. How’s that sound?”