Bury Me(72)

I close my eyes and sigh, feigning relief. I’ve asked him this same question since I was eighteen years old and his answer has never changed. I’ve tried so hard to be a good wife to him. I’ve tried so hard to make this work and have a normal life, but it’s just not possible. I can’t live like this anymore.

Nolan’s answer to my question will always be the same, and I’ll always wonder if he loved Ravenna more than me. She’s the one he saw on his first day of work. She’s the one he loved from afar for two years, not me, even though my carefully constructed lies have led him to believe it was me the entire time.

If Ravenna was alive today and he knew us both, would he still pick me?

I can’t live with unanswered questions. I always have to know the truth, and this is a truth I’ll never learn.

I open my eyes and smile up at my husband. My stupid, clueless, gullible husband. I say a quick apology in my head to Faina and Mavra, grateful that they are at school all day today.

“Close your eyes, Nolan, I have a surprise,” I whisper softly.

He does as I ask, just like always, his blue eyes disappearing beneath his eyelids, a smile frozen wide on his face.

“I tried, I really did,” I whisper too softly for him to hear.

Taking a step back from him, I move my hands from behind my back and lift the hammer over my head.

“Thank you for telling me the truth about Dad,” Mavra says, filling the silence in the room and once again pulling me out of my memories.

“Always, my love. Always,” I reply, still wondering why she has a confused look on her face.

“Why do I have to keep reminding you to just spit it out, Mavra?” I ask with a laugh.

She lets out a deep sigh.

“I swear this is the last thing. I just don’t understand it yet. Your mother gave birth to twins, both of them from a man who wasn’t her husband. How could they love one so completely and hate the other so much?” Mavra asks. “Just because of a silly birthmark?”

This is the part I’ve been waiting for since I finished my retelling of history to my daughters. I knew Faina would never believe it, and she’d leave in a huff, and I knew it wouldn’t bother me. It didn’t matter if she believed me, because I knew Mavra would, and I knew she’d ask all the right questions.

“Science has come a long way since 1965, my love. Still, after that night in the basement, I went back to see Tobias. I visited him as often as I could,” I tell her, a smile lighting up my face when I think about all the conversations we had over the years behind a piece of glass, never being able to hold his hand like my daughter is holding mine right now. “Even though I knew in my heart he was my father, I’d spent too many years with unanswered questions, and I refused to live like that ever again. I had to know the answer to that final question. Luckily in the early 1960’s, paternity testing became highly accurate. I asked Tobias to take a blood test and he agreed. It took several months to get the results, but they confirmed what I’d always known. Tobias Duskin was indeed my real father.”

I can see the awe on my daughter’s face in her wide, excited eyes and the way her lips form into the shape of an O. If she’s this enthralled by a simple blood test, the final bit of information left will certainly make her head spin. My hands shake with excitement, but I wait. I let the anticipation build, and I savor the moment until she asks the final question.

“Okay, I know you explained that the birthmark was the reason Tanner couldn’t make himself love you, but I’m still confused,” Mavra says.

The thrill is almost too much for my old heart to take, but I know it will be worth the wait.

“I’m still not understanding why they kept Ravenna and gave you away to be raised and tested and tortured by a man who thought he could rid you of your evil thoughts,” she says, the frustration growing in her voice. “Even if you pushed her into the lake, even if they thought that meant you’d turn out exactly like Tobias, how could they be certain Ravenna wouldn’t eventually end up the same way? How could Tanner love her, cherish her and never see his brother looking back at him in her eyes and not feel the same betrayal he did when he looked at you?”

I close my eyes and take a deep breath, savoring the moment, letting her stew a few minutes longer with her confusion. Opening them again, I smile and finish my explanation.

“Have you ever heard of the word superfecundation?” I ask.

I know Mavra is highly intelligent, even if she went backpacking across Europe, instead of going to college and law school like her sister. I know she’s incredibly smart even though she spends her days out in the yard, instead of arguing cases in a courtroom. I’ve spent forty years constantly being amazed by both of my girls and maybe just a tad jealous that they are so much smarter than I ever was at their age. It’s nice to finally know something she doesn’t know.