Chapter 63

Thanksgiving was a happy time for us this year. Friends and family joined us and we had a wonderful fellowship. My old marriage was well on the way to being fully resurrected, and new babies were coming. Life was good, very, very good, and could only get better.

After Thanksgiving, the Park closed for the season, and I wouldn't have to return to work until mid-February to do my winter shift. I now had the equivalent of four months paid leave to get started on my Quest to find Paul Koorstis. I had no idea where to begin, despite my brave words to the aunts, and asked Dad where he thought I should start. He suggested I go to the Registry offices in the counties where we thought he may have lived, and do a name search.

This was pre-911. That event had far-reaching effects even in Canada. In 1985, anyone could go into any Registry and for a small fee you could look up information on anyone or anything you wanted. Now it's restricted to property searches, and even then there are restrictions. Searches on people are difficult even for the actual person themselves.

The first few days I was off, I spent around home, catching up on all those small jobs that were left undone over the summer. I was planning on getting into horses through the influence of my friend and hunting partner, Bob. In the twenty years since Dad last ran stock, the fences had deteriorated badly, and the fence lines had become overgrown. I always found it odd that Dad lost interest in farming at the same time I lost the girls. He claimed it was the work and depressed markets, but I often wondered. Now that it looked like we had Carol back at the very least, his interest seemed to reappear. He took great interest in scouting around the fences and making suggestions. We finally decided which fences would go back up to secure pasture, and those fence lines were put on the list of locations to clear and cut for firewood when we started cutting in November. The actual fence building would be done in the spring when the ground was soft enough to dig.

I had to plan with my tenant farmer a crop rotation that would allow me to grow enough hay to feed four to six full-size draught horses. We also needed to rework the land use agreement with him so he would take the hay off for me, such that I wouldn't have to buy expensive equipment. Kenny, the tenant, was happy to work out a new agreement, and we came to an arrangement that benefited both parties.

Ben called the day after Thanksgiving while Carol was at their office. She still had quite a bit of paperwork to do. The company was still a working one regardless of being up for sale or not. Payrolls still had to be met, jobs bid on, and bills paid. Ben had an excellent field staff, but his office was undermanned without Carol going in at least a couple half-days per week.

Ben and Carol had no secrets at all any more and talked openly now about his illness and how fast it was progressing, but Ben still liked to call me privately for man-to-man chats. We were becoming very close despite never having actually met. If I told him something interesting he passed it along to her, as Carol now knew about our conversations. She often left a message with Ben if she'd forgotten to tell us something on her weekend calls, or something couldn't wait until the next one. Due to costs, we had all agreed to keep the calls to once a week except for emergencies. Besides, limiting ourselves to once per week gave us something to actually talk about and to genuinely look forward to. Ben usually called me on Tuesday's around noon our time and we called Carol Saturday evening between eight and nine. Ben often participated in the weekend calls, and he and Diane became good friends, too.

This Tuesday, Ben sounded unusually weak, and when I asked him about it, he said he was still tired from the weekend. They had held Thanksgiving with his sons and their girl friends. It had been a busy time, he said, and left him exhausted. I was very concerned about him, but he said a little rest and he'd be fine. He said the pain wasn't as bad as it had been, and his doctor had changed his prescription. He thought maybe the new prescription had something to do with him being tired and sleepy. I didn't like the sound of that; it sounded to me like Ben was on a pretty heavy narcotic for his pain, and was brushing it off with me. He was upbeat, though, and went on about the change in Carol and how well she looked as a pregnant lady.

He asked about some of the more specific details of my marriage to the girls, and I regaled him with some of the funnier things we'd done or had happen, whether it was during some torrid lovemaking or not. Ben was one of those friends you could get into stroke-by-stroke detail and not feel embarrassed. We had a few good laughs. I think he was trying to make the full connection to us, and he was certainly succeeding from my perspective, at least. He didn't have much news, just wanted to visit. I had some news, and told him what Roy told me about Scott being in deeper trouble than just what he did to me, and that he had disappeared. Just before we hung up, he thanked me for Beth's phone number. He said he'd called her to arrange a meeting and when he mentioned she was referred to him by Lori Lloyd, she couldn't make one fast enough. It seems Mom was very highly regarded indeed among the Wicca, and mere mention of her name seemed to open doors. I hadn't known this about Mom, but then I hadn't followed her career as a Priestess all that closely, either.

Once Dad and I got the plans for the pasture fencing done, and I got caught up on the little jobs around the house (you know the ones -- leaky faucets, squeaky hinges, etc.), I was able to concentrate on the future. One of the issues to be resolved for the future would be sleeping arrangements once everyone was home.

Diane and I talked about it and I ordered a king-size bed for our room. We moved our old queen size to the spare room. When it was brought in originally, we had to remove the banister to get the box spring up. I wasn't doing that again — we had completely refinished that banister and railing while we had it out, paying big money to have it professionally done. Strangely enough, the king size, with the box spring built in two halves, went up the stairs easily. The bed was reasonably priced from a company that specialized in beds, that also delivered and installed it for free, but the linens cost a small fortune. It was hard to find a plastic mattress cover to fit a king size bed, but we finally did. It wouldn't do to pay the money we did for a big bed and ruin it the first night we used it... The first time we slept in it, Diane and I felt lost in what seemed like a half acre of bed. We both agreed we needed at least one, and preferably two more female-type bodies in it to make it cozy.

We ordered two sets of bunk beds, each of which was actually two small singles stacked, for Rhiannon's room, as a temporary measure. Our thinking was that having them all sleep in the same room would let Riekie's kids get to know our two a little better. When the beds were delivered, because the kids were still so young, we decided against setting them up as bunks as unsafe, and instead arranged the room as four small singles. That's the beauty of that big old house. The bedrooms were as large as the downstairs rooms. We were able to set up the four beds along one wall with just enough space to walk between them. It looked like a barracks when we finished. Each child had a small chest of drawers on the opposite wall facing their bed. I also installed a second bar in the closet at waist height, doubling the hanger space for kids' clothes. It was tight, but it would work in the short term

I don't know why, but we just assumed Riekie would have custody of her children, and we based our preparations on that. They were all still small and could make do in the reduced space. As they got older, the kids were all going to want to have more space, and then there were the new twins to consider as they got older, too. We kept the spare room for use as a guest room, but sooner or later we would have to incorporate it into family use.

We would be moving Jenny into the kids' room soon as we needed her room as the nursery again. We made some tentative plans how to arrange it, but wanted to discuss it with Carol too. After all, they were her babies and we still had several months to set it up! Again, we weren't sure if Carol and our twins would be with us while they were still infants requiring a nursery, but a little forethought can prevent major upsets.

We even got new furniture for the big living room. Diane had been complaining for some time about the state the old was in. Mom had left it for us when they moved to the new house, but it was now old and beat up. We got a sturdy set that would stand up to kids and pets, and the couch folded out into a double bed for when the house was full of guests.

I know, maybe we were getting a little ahead of ourselves, but Diane and I got caught up in our enthusiasm and optimism for the future represented by the new twins Carol was carrying. We made our plans and changed the house around as if everyone would be home almost immediately. Once again, the Regiment's motto seemed appropriate — Paratus!

Diane's birthday in the second half of October got me thinking, so I paid a visit to my jeweler friend. I described what I wanted, and he promised he'd have my gifts ready in time. As always, he was as good as his word. Well! You should gave seen the look on her face when she opened her birthday presents! She was overjoyed! I did go a little overboard, but the thank you I got that night left me almost bowlegged for days. She got two gifts — a heart-shaped silver locket with a small moonstone set in the face inscribed inside with 'Diane Marie, I Love You Forever, David', and a silver bracelet to match. She knew they matched the ones Carol and Riekie had, and was tickled pink that she now had the same as them. Like them, they became permanent fixtures on her person.

I finally got some time near the end of October to start my Quest in earnest. I visited the Registry office in the small city near us where Paul Koorstis was last rumoured to have lived. This allowed me to kill two birds with one stone. It was also the Registry where Diane's birth certificate was filed. I took her completed application with me to get her replacement document.

I also wanted to track down her biological father, Paul Curtis. I had an idea she should get reacquainted with him, especially after the trauma caused by her step-father, but I first wanted to talk to the man and learn, hopefully, some of the details of his estrangement from Diane's mother. Shirley would rarely talk about her previous marriage, but Judy, Diane's older sister, retained warm memories of their father. Diane had been too young to remember much except she had felt loved. I had always suspected Shirley of complicity or at least a conspiracy of silence over the girls' abuse, and wanted to learn more.

As I found out later, when I asked her why she really wanted her birth certificate, Diane told me she had similar thoughts about her mother, especially the way Judy's pregnancy had been handled, and was exceedingly angry with the woman. From Diane's perspective she had obviously known about the abuse, and done nothing to stop it, whether out of fear of Pete herself, stupidity or culpability. Both Diane and I favoured the latter.

I never cared for Shirley much myself — she came across as a bubble-headed ninny who never seemed to have an original thought of her own, but also seemed devious. She'd never look a person straight in the eye. Even after Pete was dead and gone, Shirley wouldn't talk about the abuse, and on one occasion I heard her make a snide remark about Judy that she brought it on herself, and she should just keep her mouth shut. Anyway, Diane thought she needed it to give to our lawyer to divorce her mother! Even though she was an adult, and didn't really need to divorce her mother, she had decided she wanted ALL ties with the woman severed.

Wanting to get Diane's documentation out of the way first, and figuring the information on her father would be the easiest to locate, I started with that before I looked for anything on Paul Koorstis. This Registry wasn't computerized yet, and all their files were real hard copy.

After I showed the application to the clerk and paid my fee, she brought Diane's file out and started typing up the new birth certificate. I leafed through the file looking for anything that would help me find her father. We knew he still lived in or near the city, but that was all. Shirley had always maintained it was a bad split, and he ran off and hid, but she saw him around enough to know he was in the area. Sure enough, his last known address was there on Diane's birth registration form. There was some other interesting stuff, too, that maybe should not have been in her general file. I found an interesting document and asked if I could get a photo copy. The clerk, too busy to check what I wanted copied, just pointed at the coin operated copy machine and told me to do it myself.

When she finished with Diane's certificate and handed it to me, I had her pull some other files I was interested in as part of my Quest. It cost two dollars per search, and was worth every cent. One of the documents I searched was the property listed as Diane's father's last known address, and lo and behold! He still owned it! Whether he still lived there, or if he rented it out now, was another question, but there was a current phone number listed for the owner on the tax roll, which I quickly noted down and I also noted that the taxes were up-to-date. I was amazed at how easy it was to locate Diane's father. I hoped talking to him would be as easy. Locating Paul Koorstis might not be so easy, but I was hopeful now.

I had the clerk pull a few more files and documents, and checked them all closely. What I found was very promising, but it was getting late, the office was closing, and I wanted to call Mr. Curtis before returning home. Satisfied, I copied a couple more documents I thought might be useful, and left to find a phone.

I found a pay phone just outside the building where I could talk privately, and dialed the number I had written down. A pleasant sounding male voice answered the phone. I detected a bit of an accent I might have placed as Irish, not surprising with a name like Curtis. I asked if this was Paul Curtis, formerly married to one Shirley Boyde. He said he was, so I identified myself by name and as his youngest daughter Diane's husband; would he see me? He was very courteous and also curious and said yes, 'would you like to come over now?' I asked directions, and the address he gave me was the same one! He'd never moved! Shirley had lied, I figured so the kids wouldn't try to find him, not surprising to me at all. She hadn't counted on someone like me finding him.

I knew the area of the city Paul Curtis lived in, and found the house easily. It was a nice, well-kept smaller home, and reflected pride of ownership. Mr. Curtis answered the door promptly and greeted me warmly. He looked vaguely familiar, and I was surprised at his apparent age. He looked to be a man in his sixties. Given Diane's age, I thought he'd be younger. His handshake was warm and firm. I recognized where Diane got her lively brown eyes from, and other similarities. Paul's eyes held old pain of a deep loss, and I warmed to the man almost instantly. When he asked me in, I was pleased to enter his home -- not a house, a home. There was warmth and good humour inside these walls, and I relaxed at once. Once I was comfortably seated, he asked me why I had looked him up when he'd had no contact with his children since Shirley left him twenty seven years before.

I told him I had a feeling there was more to him than I'd heard, and I was curious. I also told him Diane wanted to know more about her origins because of some recent developments in our lives. I then went on to tell him about Pete's abuse, and that I suspected Shirley of complicity. He was outraged that his daughters had been treated that way, and said it didn't surprise him about Shirley. He thought she was someone different when he married her, but she quickly changed after the girls were born. She became, for lack of a better term, a 'loose woman'. He was a much more tolerant man than me, putting up with her many indiscretions. The end came when she took up with 'that boorish Polish immigrant who dominated her completely'. They separated and divorced quickly, and she never even asked for child support. He had tried to see his children on different occasions, but every time was slapped with a restraining order on some cobbled up charge, and he never saw them again. He was so disillusioned with women, he never remarried. We had quite a long conversation, and I was impressed with this lonely man. I sensed he missed his children very much.

I asked him if he'd like to meet his daughter and grand children. His eyes lit up at the mention of grandchildren, and he said he'd like that very much. I invited him to dinner on Sunday, and he graciously, almost eagerly accepted. I gave him directions to the farm, telling him to arrive early so he could meet the whole family, including my parents, and gave him our phone number if he got lost.

I really liked this gentleman, and thought he'd be good for Diane. Then I showed him the document I copied from Diane's file and asked him to verify the information on it. He showed no hesitation and confirmed the information was accurate. He did ask why I was so interested, and I said it had caught my eye when I looked through Diane's file, and was intrigued. I was already way later than I expected, and Diane would be getting worried; I asked if I could call her to tell her I was OK. He let me use his phone to call home. I just told Diane I was running late and not to worry. I then confirmed our Sunday dinner date with him, and left.

Diane and I had talked about the possibility of seeing her real father, but we doubted it would ever really happen. When I got home, I had to pry a couple happy kids off me before I could get near my sweet wife. She was a little miffed at me for being late for supper, but glad I'd called to let her know. After supper I helped Rhiannon with a school project and helped her with her spelling. Jenny wanted to cuddle on my lap and have a story read to her. She had her favourite Dr. Sousse book in her hand as she crawled onto my knee, already in her jammies. I didn't get halfway through the story before she was sound asleep. She fell asleep at almost the same point in the book every night... I carried Jen to her bed and tucked her in, giving her a kiss when she reached pudgy arms to hug me. Happy, she settled down into a sound sleep. Rhiannon went off to nod-nod land a little while later, tucked in by Mommy and Daddy.

With the kids in bed, I sat Diane down and told her about my day at the Registry office. She was glad I'd made progress on my Quest, and then I dropped my bombshell on her.

Very nonchalantly, I said, "Oh, by the way, Hon, we're having a guest for dinner on Sunday. I want Mom and Dad over, too, to meet him."

"Now who've you invited, David? You're always bringing people home." Yeah, I have a bit of a reputation for picking up strays.

I told her, trying to act very casual, as if it was truly unimportant, "Oh, no one special, I think you'll like him — it's your father."

Diane's jaw clanked off the floor. There was a brief silence as she collected her wits, then with obvious effort, she gasped. "My... my father? My real father? How... ?"

"Yes, Honey, your real father. He's a very nice man, and he wants to see you very much. Your mother and Pete wouldn't let him see you after they split up, although he wanted to very much. Any time he tried, they came up with some legal block, and eventually he gave up, but he never forgot. To show you how devious they were, remember your mother saying she had no idea where your father was, and that he was hiding from paying support?"

"Yes, she tried to turn us against him, but Judy remembered enough to keep us from falling for it completely."