Chapter 5

Where had the time gone? I was 30 years old. Little Diane Serena was seven. There had been tragedy when Maddie miscarried her second pregnancy, but they were trying again. She confided in me a lot and I cherished it.

I had gotten a call that some people wanted to tour a house I was showing. The owners had moved out so the house was vacant. Good and bad. Being vacant made it easier to show and schedule but furniture often presented the house in a more favorable light. The house was out in the suburbs a little, away from the bustle and craziness and I was enjoying showing it. The appointment was for 10 so I was there a little early to make sure everything was in order. I’m not sure how anything could have been out of order other than vandalism but, never-the-less.

I was on my cell phone when I heard a knock on the door.

“Come in,” I called, quickly finishing my conversation and turning around.

My breath caught in my throat, my stomach began that familiar, awful churn and I felt an immediate heat in my chest.

Standing there, looking at me was Auden. And standing beside him, not looking at me, was Duane. It had been 12 years but there was no mistaking them.

“Hello, Serena,” Auden said quietly.

“Auden,” I replied, finally finding my voice. I could look at him but not at Duane.

“I thought it was time.”

Time for what, for who. Time?

“It’s no good,” Duane said. “I tried to tell you.”

“So, this was your idea,” I said disgustedly to Auden.

“I’ll wait outside,” Duane said and shuffled back out the front door.

Now the air seemed cleared a bit. Just a bit, but at least I might be able to talk to Auden.

“He talks about you constantly, Serena. I had to bring him here, to see you.”

I just stared at him. Twelve years and I had no idea where to start. What did he know of the secrets mother kept? Anything? Everything? My insides were twisting and turning so hard that I was actually in pain.

“Why did you bring him here?” I finally asked, still not sure of what to say.

“Serena, it was 12 years ago that he ... well, not quite walked out on you but I’m sure you felt that way. Still feel that way, maybe.”

Walked out on me! That’s what you call it. Made me despise myself. Made me hate him. Kept me full of rage at what had happened.

“There’s more than that,” I stammered. Was I ready to tell him what I’d found out? How could he not have known – either of them? Was their mother that cruel that she kept it from them all these years?

A puzzled look crossed Auden’s face. “What more?” he asked innocently enough. Perhaps I could shatter his innocence just a bit.

“Mother left me a letter – I found it in an old trunk not many years ago.”

Auden was nodding.

“She told of a baby, of a family with an older child that took that baby.”

Auden was still nodding, a knowing nod, as if what I was sharing wasn’t ... wasn’t shameful, wasn’t something that needed to be hidden, wasn’t something that clung to you, like filth from a cesspool, that somehow contaminated you forever. Why was he looking that way?

“Yes,” he answered, quietly.

He was affirming what I was saying but his look was, ‘so what’. I’d spell it out clearly for him, even if I had to rip the words from the depths of my shattered and nearly lifeless soul.

“You are older than Duane. Do you not know what I’m talking about?” The voice I heard saying that had an anguished tone that I’d not heard since that night with Markus.

The faintest hint of a smile crossed Auden’s face, then quickly disappeared.

A part of me wanted to slap him but ... He reached out and took my hand. Twelve years ago, standing by the road between our houses, with a flower I had crushed laying on that road, Auden had taken my hand. Taken it to comfort me. Was it happening again?

“Serena, listen carefully. I think I have what you’re looking for, and that answer is one of the reasons I’m standing here today. Your mother wrote a letter as did mine. She explained some things that seemed just too unusual to have happened. I’m going to tell you of two things here. And, from what you’ve said, they’ll change everything.”

There was no place to sit down so he just stood there, holding my hand, his face nearly glowing with what seemed to be excitement. His eyes too, locked with mine. There was something...

“The first thing involves the little cemetery at the Methodist church. I know you’ve been there and I was just there as well and saw the graves of your mother, your aunt and Granny. In my way, I loved all three of them.”

Now I was puzzled again. How could he love my mother? Had she sneaked up to the old house sometime that I wasn’t aware of?

“What you didn’t see was a small stone, not too far from those three. It has a simple inscription. Angela, three years, gone too soon.”

It wasn’t making sense but he had succeeded in sparking my curiosity, which, in my condition, was remarkable in itself.

“Now, you know how my mother was with names.” He’d showed me the Auden and Duane thing with the same five letters.

“I remember,” I actually said, finding my voice again.

“Do you know the meaning of my name, Auden?”

Strange, but I shook my head and shrugged.

“There are a couple, one very common, the other much less so. The common one is ‘old friend’.”

I couldn’t help but return his smile. Auden had been my friend for those summers at the house, even if we didn’t spend much time together. I wasn’t sure what was happening but I felt that he was still an old friend.

“Now, the second meaning holds the key, Serena. Not so common and only shows up very marginally in things. Ready?”

He was certainly building this up but I did seem to be calming down a little.

“It means ‘half Danish.”

Was something beginning to work its way into my brain, something totally unexpected and beyond the reach of even my often-vivid imagination.

“Half Danish,” he repeated. “The full name on that small stone I told about is Angela Anderson. She was Duane’s older sister.” Now his smile was huge and my eyes had widened with the realization that was pushing its way into my suddenly opening brain and even my heart. “I’m your brother, not Duane.”

It was simple. That’s why he loved my mother – she was his mother too. Auden is my brother. Half-brother but still brother. And Duane is ... All these thoughts were racing through my brain as I stared dumbly at Auden, until his arms were around me and he was squeezing me so tight it nearly hurt. 12 years of not knowing this, of knowing what was not true, of hating Duane and myself. I wanted to be angry with my mother for not telling me before. All the endless volunteering, the homeless, the hospitals, the unwed mothers. She was just paying forward for what had happened. I felt ashamed and humbled again by what she had done.

Auden was my brother. Everything had changed but could I change? I was hugging him back, feelings that I hadn’t had for years gushing out of my tightly constricted heart. But he was releasing me and his eyes were pleading.

“Serena, we have so much to share and to learn. I can’t wait for it to begin. But that’s only one of the reasons I came here. I couldn’t wait another second. Someone else is waiting though, not knowing what you’ve been going through, just knowing that ... He talks about you all the time, Serena.”

I was being torn in two, the past clinging to me tightly, the future beckoning, completely unknown but agonizingly compelling.

I forced my legs to move me toward the front door. I knew what awaited me there, but only vaguely, not at all certain that it was going to be what I wanted, or what I needed. I only knew that there was something inside of me that would not relent until I had done what I needed to do.