Mary braced herself, though for what, she was unsure. His initial lack of response caused her blood to turn to ice. Would he cast her out? Would he not accept her like herâŚtheirâŚmother had done so many years ago? Her jaw, which she had subconsciously clenched, came unclenched when he told her to come around the side. Though him suddenly closing the door seemed a bit much, she couldnât say she blamed him.
She made her way quickly around the house, in awe of its sheer size and scale. Her mother must have been a rather lavish, wealthy woman. Her heart still resided in the pit of her stomach upon the discovery that she was no longer here. Perhaps she could find her whereabouts and figure out what happened, among other things.
At any rate, she crossed the threshold of the screen door, offering the towering man a polite smile. âOh darling, the only Goldie Iâd ever aspire to be is Goldie Hawn. Iâm Mary, though everybody back home called me Mary Elizabeth. Iâve always felt it was a bitâŚdramatic for my tastes. Oh, whiskey would be lovely, actually.â she chuckled, sitting at the bar in the kitchen. Though far more inclined to drink wine, she needed something to help her get through this interaction.Â
âWellâŚWhen I came of age about 11 years ago, I immediately set to work to track down my information about my birth mother. My dads always maintained that I was adopted from an orphanage, but that never sat well with me. When I found out about my birth mother and got the address and such, I told my dads I was going to find her. They, uhâŚThat sat me down and told me what I can only assume to be the truth. My dad, Oscar, met mother at an event of some sort in the city. Having been a costumer on Broadway in his youth, which was how he met my other dad Karl, he knew a lot of folks and got to go to all sorts of events with wealthy and interesting types. At any rate, he and mother really hit it off and Oscar let slip that he was looking to adopt. Your mother apparently pulled him aside and mentioned something about how she had unexpectedly become pregnant with a baby girl. They struck up an agreement, and I was whisked out of the hospital in May of 1991 in the arms of a flamboyant actor and his long-suffering business partner.â
Mary smiled humorlessly as she took a long sip of whiskey, clearing half the glass before continuing. âOscar only said he accepted because heâd heard, wellâŚLess than pleasant things about mother and didnât want her in my life. He said some other things that, without using so many words, made it clear that I was not wanted by this mysterious woman. I was so devastated that I let the matter drop and went on about my life in college and such. Years passed and hours upon hours of therapy later, I decided that I needed to get some closure on this. I cannot live the rest of my life on the testimony of men who, no matter what, will do what they can to protect me. I needed the truth. I needed to know if she truly never wanted me, never thought about me after giving me away. I wanted to know why.â
Stubborn tears streaked down her alabaster cheeks as she polished off her whiskey, eyes distant before suddenly locking onto Jack. âThatâs not every detail, but hopefully thatâs a good enough start. Fire away with any and all questions.â
Jackâs mother had always been one for dramatics. Broadway being a favorite of hers. Trips she would make, leaving him behind in the large home by himself. He almost preferred it when she left. It was quiet, to a degree. Still, there were thumps and whispers that stirred him awake deep into the nights. But it beat the shrill of her voice jolting him out of a sound sleep. In any event--Broadway-- was not out of the realm of possibilities for how his mother met her fathers. Oddly things were adding up. But he knew elaborate stories could also be a sign of preparation going into a scheme. He couldnât be sure.
âOooh boy, okay...â Jack stated, looking to pour himself a glass of whiskey himself, but all he could do was breathe. Take it all in. The details of her life were difficult to swallow. And if they were honest, truthful facts, he felt compelled to help her.Â
âYeah, well Oscar got that right.â Jack assured her, waving his hand as if to show himself off to her. âThe results may startle you.â The abuse he had taken over the years of his life had left permanent damage both inside and out. His psyche the most out of whack.
Jack took a deep breath in, looking at her facial structure again. It resonated with his own, oddly enough. Bits of it, anyways. âHow willing would you be to take a DNA test?â He posed the question, pushing away the thought of that obscene Truth Hurts song. âI want to believe you. That would be enough to give you some more information. I wonât do it without it, I hope you understand. She was not a fantastic part of my life, but unfortunately she will always have my loyalties.â