Serena's Inheritance

I should have gotten a stone. I hadn't but I would. Nothing gaudy. Just a flat stone with his name and those two dates. Auntie had watched from the porch and when I finished, I joined her and we sat there, staring at the small spot with the bare dirt that held so many memories. We both sobbed.

Now I was worried about Auntie, being there all by herself. I insisted she come live with me but she wouldn't hear of it. "I've lived here, I'll die here," was her response which did nothing to reassure me at all. The cleaning lady was still going each week but the thought that she could die and not be found for a week was nearly too much to handle. I debated about hiring some sort of care giver to look in on her more regularly but wasn't willing to face the tongue-lashing I'd get from Auntie for trying to live her life for her. It was frustrating and a lesson I hoped I'd remember when I was old, even though I knew I wouldn't. No one wants to admit they're "old."

*****

Aunty didn't lay in the house for a week. She just dropped over while the cleaning lady was there. 911 was called but the EMT's said she was probably dead before she hit the floor. It was an easy way to go about it, I guess. Better than cancer or alzheimers or some other dementia. It was hard to imagine but it had been much the same for father and mother and Granny and even Thurston, in a way. Except for Granny, they'd all gone quickly. And Granny's had been peaceful, just not waking in the morning. But all had been deaths and I needed something else.

I got it one week later when Maddie called, the excitement in her voice squeezing its way through the phone and into my ear. She was pregnant. It was hard to imagine a tiny Maddiechuck, but it was going to happen. I insisted she put Chuck on the phone so I could congratulate him as well. All those squeals and moans had finally come to fruition. I had to be nearly as excited as they were.

"Listen," she said. "It's a girl and her name will be Diane Serena. Diane was my grandmother's name."

"Thank you." I said, sounding not near as humble as I felt.

"When you have your first girl, she has to have Maddie as a middle name."

"Ha!" That one was much easier to respond to.

I was more than excited to follow the progress of my namesake and future goddaughter.

And that I did as I was at the hospital when she was finally born, after a rather intense labor I was told, and I did get to see her and hold her that very first day. Maddie looked bedraggled but was beaming and Chuck didn't need his feet as he seemed to be floating, everywhere he went. As I held that tiny and fragile bundle I was nearly overwhelmed with joy, knowing the wonderful life she would have with the parents she had chosen.

The real estate business was going well and I was earning way more than I felt I was worth but people seemed to like me and they trusted me and bought houses from me. I used most of that money to support, as liberally as I could, all those places which had seemed so important to my mother. I did it all in her name, of course, which seemed to make me feel better about those years when I had mostly ignored these things.

I traveled. I saw 14 countries and particularly enjoyed England and cruising the Caribbean area. The old English homes and castles reminded me of my old home -- the Caribbean was just nice and warm all the time. I kept both houses. It was convenient for business to have the house in Columbus, and also easier to get together with Maddie and Chuck and Diane Serena. I kept the cleaning lady at the old house so it was always ready when I decided to appear there. Of course, my favorite family spent weekends there with me as well.

Over time, I actually had a few dates, mostly with other real estate men who I had contact with. My hair was still blond and my eyes still blue, but I was not nearly as lithe as I had been when I was a freshman in college. Who is? I tried to look at myself objectively but it was difficult. Chuck was adept at embarrassing me when he'd say, "Serena, when I first met you, I thought you were a good-looking girl. Now, you've turned into a real babe. A BABE," he always added for emphasis. Maybe so. I guess I trusted his evaluation.

Unfortunately, I guess, none of the dates produced sparks. They were fun, no problems and we always had a good time. But no sparks. I needed sparks or something that would pull me into a relationship that was not just good buddies. It simply hadn't happened.

*****

I went to spend a weekend at the old house and decided to do a bit of exploring. There was an attic with a stairway that I had only ventured to a couple of times. It was just too spooky for me, and smelled horribly musty. But it was my house now and I needed to overcome that. Flashlight in hand, I had ventured up there and probed around, hoping I wouldn't be surprised by a bat, or mouse or some other frightening creature.

There were boxes that I'd eventually have to go through and a few piles of clothing that I had no idea what to do with. Donate it perhaps?

Against one wall I found an old trunk. It looked fascinating, and I couldn't resist opening the lid and rummaging through. There were things there I recognized as mothers, some clothes, some books, pictures and other things too. Plus, a darkened yellow envelope with one of those tangy clasps. I opened it.

It was full of handwritten pages, mother's handwriting, and I was fascinated. I closed the lid of the trunk and headed downstairs to see what mother might have written, hoping to see also when it had been written.

I settled into an old rocking chair and began to read.

My dearest Serena,

I'm writing this for you and I've left instructions with Aunt Natalie that you not see it unless I've died, whenever that might occur. I apologize for keeping this a secret from you but I felt it would be best to do that. Perhaps selfishly, I'm not certain.

Before I met your father, there was a time that I'm rather ashamed of. There was a man that I thought would be with me forever. I was very young and didn't understand many things. When I became pregnant, he disappeared and I never saw him again. I came to live with mother and my sister at the old house. I had the baby but couldn't keep it. It would have been too difficult at that time. Maybe I was just weak, I'm not sure. The Anderson's were very supportive while I was there. They had one child but wanted another and weren't sure that would happen. They had friends at the courthouse, to take care of important papers. So, they were able to take the baby, who is your half-brother, and give him a good life.

I stopped reading, my stomach twisting. The Anderson's had an older child. Auden? And then they took my half-brother. Duane? What had I done? I threw the papers down and began to pace. My god, I was evil, filthy, defiled, ruined. I wanted to be angry at Duane again. Had he known? If he did, I might kill him. Frustrated, I grabbed the paper again and read more. I spied a key line.

I insisted on and got promises from all that this would be totally secret. No one would know and no one would tell, until you have read this letter...

Some of my anger at Duane abated but not the loathing I felt for myself. I'd had sex with my half-brother. Innocently, but still done. I put the papers back in the envelop and stuck them in the desk. I didn't sleep at all that night.

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. 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 left? 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. "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.

"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."

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.

I opened the door and stepped outside. The air was cool, a gentle breeze blowing The sun seemed unusually bright in the clear air. His back was there, his head bowed. I was sure he had heard the door.

"Serena?" A hesitant voice that I recognized. 12 years hadn't changed that.

"Duane." What would I say? How would I say whatever it was that my head would send to my vocal chords?

His hand tapped on the step beside him, inviting me to join him. It was simple, but meant so much. It was more than I could have done in his place. I sat. There was very little space between us and, strangely, I wanted to close it. It needed to be closed.

"I'm sorry," he said simply.

"I am too, Duane."

"You have nothing to be sorry for, Serena," he countered and I thought he might look at me . . . but he didn't.

"You don't know, Duane. You just don't know."

His eyes met mine for the first time. The puzzled look that encompassed the past 12 years nearly broke my already fragile heart. I'd just tell him.

"Mother left me a letter. I . . . I didn't know everything and I misunderstood." His brow furrowed. "I thought you were my brother and . . . what . . . had happened." I couldn't go on.

"Oh my god, Serena." A look of near horror crossed his face.

I wanted to grab him, to hug him, to explain that it was me, not him. I didn't and I'm not sure why as the look on his face I was sure echoed what I was wanting. Still, it was too . . . foreign still, I guess.

"That, and what I did. I've wanted to apologize for that for many years now. I didn't know how and I don't know how right now, sitting right here looking at you." He took a deep breath. "I didn't know her at all, Serena. She appeared, swept me away before I knew what was happening and then tossed me aside, like I'd never existed. She wanted freedom from her home and parents and, I guess I was the ticket. I was too embarrassed to come home until Auden finally found me. You know Auden." He grinned a silly grin. "You knew him one way then but I'm sure you'll know him differently now."

The space between us was still too wide. It would take time to close it completely but, I slide across the step till I was pressed against him, a simple first step. As Auden had done, he reached over and took my hand, reading me perfectly, so much like it had been 12 years ago.

"Forgiveness is hard, Serena. I know that. Can you begin to make that happen?"

"I, well, hated you, Duane." He cringed but I squeezed his hand. "All those years, and what did it accomplish? Misery, disgust, anguish. Add those things up and they total emptiness. It's a two-part project, Duane. I need to forgive myself, to have you forgive me for what I did to you in my heart and my mind, and the easier part, me forgiving you for. . . I don't even know what to call it."

At last I couldn't endure the longing look in his eyes any longer and I pulled his face to mine and kissed him. He looked at me when the kiss ended, his eyes sparkling with the tears that were beginning to gather.

"Is this heaven and are you my saving angel," he said in a voice that I had been longing to hear for 12 years. A desire buried under all the debris of what I thought had happened.

I don't think I'd ever felt happier in my life.

Epilog

Diane Serena Callahan was the flower girl at the wedding. It wasn't huge and was in the little Methodist church up the road, the place where Diane had been baptized and I had become her godmother. Of course, Maddie was the matron of honor, and she looked elegant in her dress despite the rather prominent belly that embarrassed her no end. Auden was the best man, being the brother of both the bride and the groom which made for interesting questions when we were forced to explain that. And, as Maddie had accurately predicted, I sobbed nearly uncontrollably until I finally said my, 'I do'.

We had moved into the old house. I had decided that we'd sell the house in Columbus in order that I could completely break with the old life and begin our new life together. Of course, the old house was very familiar to both of us. There was another big and ornery black lab who bounded through the woods in a very familiar fashion. Winston had taken the place of my beloved Thurston and was becoming equally beloved on his own.

We hadn't been moved in long before we made a trip up that fateful path that, unknown to Duane, had created so much unneeded turmoil in my life. The old shed was still there, appropriately collapsed in total now. I had already begun the process of purchasing the land where it lay in ruin. It just seemed appropriate that it would belong to us.