Identity of the Heart (A Hidden Hearts Novel Book 1) Read online

  Lenore turns to Roger and sobs into his shoulder before collecting herself and resuming her story.

  “To make matters worse, there was a teacher’s aide in my school district whose name was Rosa Betancourt. Since all the kids had trouble with her last name, everyone always called her Mama Rosa. That particular year she was actually going to be a mom. I had met her once or twice at teacher training, but didn’t know her well. She always seemed exceptionally sweet, but there were some strange rumors going around about her husband. Some people thought he was a member of the Mafia. Other people thought that he might sell drugs for the Mexican drug cartel. Whatever the truth was, the perception remained that she might be in danger.”

  At this point, Lenore pauses and looks to Roger for reassurance. He nods almost imperceptibly. So, she takes a large gulp of coffee from the steaming mug she had brought in earlier and sets it back on the tray. I can’t help but notice that her hands must be trembling as much as mine. She breathes deeply and resumes speaking. “We briefly thought about asking her if she was interested in giving up her baby for adoption since her world was in such chaos. But it quickly became apparent that she and her husband both wanted the baby. So we were put on a more traditional waiting list. We looked into other avenues through our private attorney, but even though the choices were there, they were so far out of our price range we couldn’t even seriously consider them.”

  Roger seemingly decides that Lenore has endured enough of the burden, so he picks up the storytelling, looking directly at Ivy.

  “After waiting months and months for any results through the public agency, the private adoption attorney called us and said he had a rather dicey situation on his hands. He explained that you were in the hospital needing urgent medical care. It was strongly implied that your mother had simply thrown up her hands and walked away when she found out how much your NICU bill would be. But, not a single nurse on the hospital staff would tell us one iota about your birth mom.”

  “It’s a strange thing about dads in the hospital. When you hang around long enough. They start treating you like you’re part of the woodwork. You become rather invisible. So, one day after we were waiting for you to come back from a series of complex tests on your lungs, I noticed a bunch of paperwork about you laying around. Well, by that time I had become a bit of an armchair medical sleuth. I used to write down all the terms that the doctors would use and then I would go home and research them at the local library. So, I was doing my routine scour of your most recent records when I came across some paperwork that I didn’t recognize.”

  Roger turns to me and looks me in the eyes. “I didn’t know what I was reading about at the time. But, in retrospect, it was clearly about you. It was just a brief mention about another female infant. There weren’t any details. Just initials. We hadn’t been told anything about Ivy’s birth mom and there were no hints that she was part of a multiple birth. So, I just thought that it was a filing error. The only thing that gave me any pause at all was later when the senior nurse saw the file, she completely berated the nursing student for allowing that information to be placed in the file. I’ll never forget that she told her, ‘Don’t you realize you could’ve jeopardized everything? No one is supposed to know anything about that!’ Of course, I couldn’t ask any questions because I wasn’t supposed to be snooping in the files to begin with nor was I supposed to be eavesdropping on personnel issues with the nursing staff. I just kept my concerns to myself.”

  Tristan is sitting on the edge of an ottoman with his notepad and pen. “You said that there was a lawyer involved, what role did he play in this?”

  A look of alarm crosses Lenore’s face as she looks at Roger.

  “Mom, I’m sure that enough time has passed that even if you did inadvertently do something wrong, nothing would be done about it. Rogue and I are adults now. Nobody can take me away from you,” Ivy assures her.

  Roger scrubs his hand down his face and wearily answers, “I promised that I’d tell you the whole story— even the parts that weren’t so flattering. Well, it looked like everything was going just fine with the adoption. Our lawyer had everything handled and Ivy was getting better every day. One day, the nursing supervisor came to me and told me that they had a problem employee that had been let go who was threatening to go to the media with an exposé on hospital practices. The nurse said they were going to name us specifically and that it might tie up Ivy’s adoption in legal proceedings for years.”

  “Oh how terrible! Mom must’ve been fit to be tied,” Ivy murmurs sympathetically.

  “She probably would’ve been if I would’ve actually told her. But, she was so worried and focused on getting you better, I didn’t want to add to that. So, I took out a collateral loan on the business and authorized our attorney to offer the employee some incentive to keep his opinions about the hospital to himself. Then, the attorney put the adoption on the fast track, citing Ivy’s delicate medical situation.”

  “Did you ever have any idea about the identity of Ivy’s birth parents?” Tristan asks, jotting notes down.

  “No, we were completely fine with the idea of open adoption. But, we were told that because of Ivy’s medical challenges, the birth parents were not interested in ever being involved in her life. We decided that if that’s the kind of people they were, we were not going to encourage contact. Ivy didn’t need that kind of negative influence in her life.”

  “It appears there were more half-truths going on in this story than a daytime soap opera,” comments Marcus.

  “Lenore? Do you want to know who my mom is?” I ask carefully, not wanting to cause her any more pain.

  Lenore blinks away tears as she studies me. “Honey, I think I already know. I can’t believe I didn’t see it all those years with Ivy. You both have her eyes, her laugh and her famous dimples. Did you stay with Mama Rosa or were you adopted as well?”

  “I didn’t even know I was a twin until Ivy found me,” I explain. “It was just Mama and I for years until I moved to Florida.”

  An expression of comprehension crosses Roger’s face. “Ah, so you go to school with Ivy Love? Are you an accounting major too?”

  “Oh, not quite sir,” I answer quickly. “I live about three hours from Ivy. Right now, I’m attending art classes at Santa Fe Community College until I can see if I can get enough scholarships to transfer to the University of Florida. I’m also studying to be a tattoo artist at Marcus’s shop, Ink'd Deep.”

  “Isn’t she great, Daddy? Look at the amazing tattoo she just gave Marcus.”

  Marcus walks over and shows Roger his tattoo. I know him well enough to see that Marcus flexed his muscle just a tiny bit. I hold my breath as Roger examines my work. I’m not sure why I hold his opinion in such high esteem, but for some reason it’s important to me that he like it.

  “Impressive. Very impressive. I always wished that I had the artistic ability that Ivy has. Math has its uses, but people are rarely impressed that you can add and subtract,” Roger compliments.

  “I’ve seen some of Ivy’s drawings, she could give me a run for my money. Hers are downright amazing. She should consider a career in the fine arts,” I remark, trying to sound casual.

  “Well, I suppose that’s up to her. I wouldn’t want to be like my family and try to push her into a career that she doesn’t want. If it were up to my family I’d be wearing a firefighter’s uniform. We all know what a disaster that would be since I can barely climb a flight of stairs.”

  “What about your plans, Daddy? You know—'Montclair and Montclair'?”

  “Love Bug, I made those plans to motivate you to strive to do well, not to trap you into a life you don’t want. Go find what makes you happy. Go find your bliss. Life is too short to be unhappy.”

  Ivy hops off the love-seat and launches herself into Roger’s arms as she says, “Oh Thank you Daddy, I love you so much!”

  You are my hero! I so totally owe you!

  Don’t mention it. After all, that’s what sist
ers are for.

  Thanks for having my back Manita, I love you.

  I love you too, Manita.

  Lenore looks at Tristan quizzically and asks, “What’s going on?”

  Tristan chuckles lightly as he responds, “Welcome to the wonderful world of 'twin-dom' they are having one of their private conversations that only they can hear. Marcus and I are so used to it now that we barely notice anymore, but it takes a little bit of adjustment. It’s quite remarkable to see.”

  “Roger, do you suppose she was having conversations with Rogue the whole time she was growing up and we didn’t know it? I feel so bad for separating them,” Lenore laments.

  “Ma’am, it appears that you and your husband didn’t really know what was happening. Rosa had been told that Ivy had passed on and didn’t survive. Until Ivy showed up on her doorstep, Rosa had no idea she still had two daughters either.”

  Lenore pales to a ghostly shade of white. “How horrible! I can’t even imagine a pain so deep. She must think we’re awful human beings. I bet she thinks we stole her child.”

  “I don’t really know what Mama thinks. We tried to ask her, but she wouldn’t answer. She just said that we would have to get the story from you. I think that she might have some misunderstandings about what happened. I think that the only people that really know what happened might be the uppity ups at the hospital and maybe your lawyer.”

  “Whatever happened to your dad? Was he really some big time drug dealer?” asks Roger.

  “Roger Montclair! Where are your manners?” chides Lenore.

  “I’m sorry if that was rude, but doesn’t everybody want to know?” inquires Roger.

  Marcus laughs out loud. “I would’ve so asked that question if I would’ve been in his shoes. Unfortunately, Roger, we don’t know the answer to that yet.”

  “Hey! I don’t think my mom would’ve been in love with a leader of the drug cartel. He could have disappeared for other perfectly legitimate reasons. If the guy that we think might be my dad turns out to be authentic, it looks like he may have had a career in law enforcement.”

  “I’m working on tracking all that down. It’ll probably just be a couple more days. It’s clear that someone was underhanded in all of this. It’s just going to be a matter of determining who. Clearly, both you and Mama Rosa were somehow tragically duped. I think the key to solving all this will be determining who had the most to gain.”

  “I can tell you that we were told that the adoption would be one fee and by the time it was all said and done, it was substantially more.”

  Lenore narrows her eyes at her husband and remarks, “So much more, in fact, that Mr. CPA over here won’t even fess up to the amount.”

  “It just wouldn’t be helpful for you to know that, dear.” Roger responds as he squeezes his wife’s knee affectionately. “In the end, what’s a few hundred extra tax returns every year when I have a perfect family now? I feel stupid for being taken advantage of, and I am sorry that the girls were separated for so long. Yet, I will never be sorry that I made the sacrifices for my beautiful daughter.”

  Observing the sweet conversation is enough to bring tears to my eyes. I wonder if my dad feels that way about me. Those pictures I saw seem to show that he was pretty excited that we were coming. Every conversation I’ve had about family issues in the last six months has taught me not to make assumptions about what I think is happening without knowing all of the facts because I’ll likely be wrong. I’m hoping that the same is true about my father. I hope to God that the rumors about him are not true. Yet, I can’t seem to get the nagging thought out of my brain that my mom thought she had really great character judgment about Clive too and she was clearly dead wrong. So, what if she has a pattern of choosing colossal losers and my dad was merely the first.

  IT’S SURREAL TO BE BACK IN my childhood room. I know that I’ve only been gone for a little over two and a half years. But, it seems like a lifetime ago. Seriously? Did I really put a Justin Bieber poster on my wall? I’m almost embarrassed to let Rogue see my room. She’s so cool and sophisticated compared to me. I almost feel like I should do a cursory sweep for Bratz dolls or something.

  Rogue peeks her head around the corner and her eyes widen as she takes in her surroundings.

  “Wow! This is rad. I would’ve given anything for a room like this when I was a teenager. Is that surround sound on your TV?”

  “I used it to practice my cheerleading routines. Dad wanted to make sure that I heard my cues even if I was hanging upside down,” I admit, painfully blushing.

  Rogue walks into my closet which backs up to a private bathroom. She spins in a small circle as she slowly studies the room. “Don’t you have any clothes at school?”

  I giggle. “Yes, I do have clothes at school. According to Jessica, I should be assigned my own dorm room just for my clothes.”

  “Then why is this closet stuffed to the gills with clothes too? Shouldn’t one of them have at least a few empty spaces in it?”

  I wave my hand dismissively as I say, “Most of those don’t even fit me anymore since I put on the freshman fifteen. But, you’ll have to talk to the Guardian of the Closet, the Queen of Television Shopping, Mrs. Lenore Montclair. She’s in charge of all the shopping stuff, I can’t stand it; I’d rather not ever try on clothes if it were up to me.”

  Rogue sighs dramatically. “Boy, I wish I had a fairy god-shopper. It must be nice.”

  “Be careful what you wish for, my mom might actually hear you and your closet will look like this.”

  “That would definitely not be pretty considering that my whole apartment could probably fit into your bedroom. When I was growing up, I used to help my mom pay bills by cleaning houses a lot like this. I used to pretend that I lived a whole other life where I was a princess living in a perfect world. I guess I never knew how close to reality my fantasies really were.”

  “I don’t know, I think the open, easy-going relationship you have with your mom is pretty much the stuff of fantasies too.”

  Manita, did you forget— she’s your mom too? she telegraphs.

  I jump when her words hit my consciousness.

  I smile shyly as I project back, I guess I did. It’s very strange having two moms now.

  Just when I think my life can’t get anymore strange, it does. I guess I should have been more specific when I said that I wanted to break out of my bubble and expand my horizons. This is beyond anything I ever dreamed of. We are on a freaking private plane.

  “Can you believe this?” I mouth to Marcus.

  “No. I’d like to think of something appropriately smart-alecky to say here, but I’ve got nothin’. This is awesome. Were you able to reach all of your professors?” he asks.

  “Yes, they were remarkably flexible. I just told them that I had a family issue and I asked for any homework. I don’t have any exams scheduled, since it’s right after Christmas break. Therefore, they were all willing to work with me. I just have some reading to do.”

  “I’m sorry we couldn’t schedule this trip during Christmas break, but the Body Art Trade Show was amazing—even if Marcus is still pouting that neither one of us caved about getting tats yet,” Rogue says, poking fun at Marcus.

  “That’s all right—the conclusive DNA didn’t come back until two days ago anyway,” Tristan interjects. “It was a fun way to get our mind off of things.”

  Marcus laughs out loud, “Did you really need a test with these guys?”

  “Me? Not a chance. However, Isaac may be harder to convince. You have to hit some men over the head with a two by four before they can see what’s right in front of them. A DNA test can cut through a lot of B.S.”

  Rogue turns to me as if we weren’t interrupted by the side conversation, “Anyway, my professors were pretty good too. I just have to do a portrait of someone in charcoal or pastels. Hey, Ivy if I do one of you, do you think they’ll believe it’s not a self-portrait?”

  “They probably will if I take a picture of you d
rawing her,” Tristan suggests.

  “Would you please? That would make a really cool photograph that I might want to turn into a painting later.”

  “…and I could photograph you painting the picture of you painting my picture. We could really blow their minds.”

  “That sounds like a phenomenal plan. Let’s do it,” Rogue agrees with a laugh.

  “Does Mr. Roguen know we’re coming?” Marcus asks, returning to the other conversation as he pops open the little fridge next to his seat and pulls out a Dr. Pepper for Rogue and a Sprite for me.

  “He’s aware we’re coming, or more precisely he’s aware I’m coming —you guys may be more of a shock,” Tristan replies with a crooked grin.

  Rogue gasps. “Exactly why does he think you’re coming?”

  “If I were to venture a guess, I’d say he thinks it’s related to a case he worked on.”

  I throw my hands up in the air as I exclaim, “Oh that’s just great! That’s just what this situation needed—one more person telling a lie.”

  “Actually, strictly speaking, I didn’t actually lie to him,” Tristan responds defensively.

  “What exactly did you say to him?” Rogue asks skeptically.

  “Nothing like you’re accusing me of,” Tristan responds. “I merely told him my name, the name of my business, and the type of cases I usually specialize in. Any conclusions he drew from that were entirely his own. It’s not like I could go into the whole story over the phone.”

  Rogue visibly relaxes. “I never thought about that. There is no real roadmap on the right way to handle this mess. I’m sorry I tried to second-guess you. It’s going to be awkward as hell no matter how we do it. Even if we plan every syllable of every word. It’s probably not going to go to script,” she concedes.

  “I know it’s probably just because I’m really tired, but my overwhelming thought is even if we wrote a script about all of this, no one would ever believe it. What’s happened to us over the past few months is far too crazy even for a Hollywood script. We couldn’t write a script crazy enough to cover what’s been happening to us. If you think about it, we’re too nuts for Hollywood,” I quip, cracking myself up.