The Good Twin(58)

“I never thought about it.”

“Well, I would. You said your mother’s friend knew her since childhood. Do you think if we paid her a visit, she would talk about her?”

“I’m sure she would.”

Two nights later, instead of going to my father, I left the gallery early. Mallory had driven down from High Falls, and we met at a rest stop off the New Jersey Turnpike. “I don’t believe it,” I said as soon as I saw her. “I knew we looked alike, but this is so weird.”

“It’s all part of the plan. Ben sent me a close-up photo of you, and I took it to a hairstylist.”

She left her car in the parking lot, and we drove together the rest of the way to Philadelphia. Lauren was waiting for us.

As soon as we walked in, she looked at both of us. “I can’t tell who is who.”

“I’m Charlotte. Or Charly.”

She threw her arms around me and hugged me tight. When she pulled back, I could see her eyes were moist. “It would have meant the world to Sasha to see the two of you together.”

We moved into the living room, and Mallory and I sat down while Lauren went into the kitchen and came back with a plate of cookies. “She named you Amelia,” Lauren told me. “She always wondered about you, whether you had good parents, whether they loved you.”

“I did.”

“That would have made her happy.”

“Tell me about her,” I asked. “What she was like as a child, what she enjoyed doing.”

“I suppose Mallory told you she had a difficult life,” Lauren said.

I nodded.

“Well, in spite of that, she was always feisty. Nothing could stop her. I guess that’s why, when her mother gave her an ultimatum about the pregnancy, she left home.”

Mallory leaned forward on the couch. “I found my birth certificate, and it listed Mom’s name as Susan. Who changed it to Sasha?”

“She did that when she moved to Scranton—not legally, though. It’s just what she told people to call her. She told me she’d wanted a fresh start, and a new name was part of that.”

“Do you know if she liked art? Did she paint?” I asked.

“No and no. Your dad was the artist. Never did much with it, but he could draw anything.”

My father. It reminded me of the roadblock we’d hit in trying to find his parents. I wanted to know more about him, too. “How did they meet?” I asked.

“At a party. Some senior boy bought a keg when his parents were out of town and invited the prettiest girls. Johnny was friends with the boy’s older brother, and they hung out at the house, mostly to make fun of the younger kids. But as soon as he saw your mother, he was sunk. I swear, it was like a lightning bolt hit him. He’d had a reputation for fooling around with a bunch of girls, but once he saw your mother, she locked up his heart and placed it next to hers. They were never apart until he enlisted. And the reason he joined up was to have a better life for him and your mother.”

“Do you think that’s why Mom never married?” Mallory asked.

Lauren nodded. “I think she was afraid if she did, she’d forget your father, and she never wanted to do that.”

I lapped it all up, eager to learn everything I could about them. We spent two hours with Lauren, and if we hadn’t had a two-hour drive home, I could have spent two more. She brought out pictures of her and Sasha, starting from when they were young children, and even a few that included John. I stared at each one and, for the first time, started to understand who I was.



On the drive back, my phone rang through the Bluetooth. I didn’t recognize the number that came up on the screen, but I answered it. “Is this Charly Gordon?”

“Yes.”

“This is Gertrude Harris. I spoke to you last week. About John Harris?”

“Yes, but your son wasn’t the one I was looking for.”

“Yes, well, I was telling my daughter about it, and it turns out she’s Facebook friends with your John Harris’s sister, Amy. She sent a message to her and got a phone number for Ellen Harris. She lives in LA now. Do you want it?”

“Of course.”

Mallory rummaged through her purse and pulled out her phone, then typed in the number.

I thanked Mrs. Harris, then hung up. “Should we call Ellen now? It’s three hours earlier in California.” I could see from the brightness of her eyes that Mallory was as excited as I felt. She nodded, and I gave a voice command to dial the number. It was answered on the second ring.

“Is this Ellen Harris?”

“Yes.”

“And you once lived in Allentown?”

“Yes? Who is this?”

“My name is Charly Gordon. Back in Allentown, did your son date Susan Holcolm?”

I heard a sharp intake of breath. “Do you know where Susan is? We looked and looked for her for so long.”

I felt my heart start to beat faster. “She passed away a few years ago.”

Ellen said, “Oh,” with a voice that seemed filled with sadness.

“But I’m her daughter. And your son was my father.”

“Oh my, oh my, is this true? I can’t believe it. We looked for you, too.”

“You knew my mother was pregnant?”