Dog Whisperer Read online

  With the power off, her parents were afraid that all of the food in the refrigerator and freezer was going to spoil. As a result, they had decided to finish off as much as they could, and throw away the rest. If the power came back in the next twelve hours or so, they could probably save some of the stuff in the freezer, but judging from the amount of damage to the telephone and electrical poles outside, that didn’t seem likely. Besides, her birthday cake was tucked away inside the freezer, and she would have been kind of disappointed if they didn’t get to eat it on her actual birthday.

  So, they had an unusual supper of bottled water, sliced tomatoes, carrot sticks, bananas, cheese, crackers, peanut butter, and rye bread. Emily had been a vegetarian for about three years now, so that was all fine with her. But, her father didn’t look particularly excited about his dinner, and she had a feeling that he might open a can of ravioli or chili or something later and eat it cold.

  “Not exactly the birthday supper we had in mind,” her mother said, serving each of them some yoghurt with cut-up fruit mixed in.

  No, they had been planning to create a big feast of homemade Mexican food. They were even going to make a couple of different kinds of fresh salsa, and everything.

  “It still all tastes good,” Emily said.

  “We can make up for it, as soon as the power is back,” her father promised. “And we’ll drive into Brunswick or down to Portland or someplace tomorrow, and find a nice fancy dinner somewhere.”

  “And we can still cook Mexican food soon, right?” Emily asked. She’d been particularly looking forward to the part where they were going to roast chipotle peppers, and grind their own cumin, and all.

  “Absolutely,” her mother said. “Maybe that’s what we can do when your grandparents get here.”

  Since the local airports had closed because of the hurricane, her grandparents had to postpone their trip. Originally, they had been planning to be there on her birthday, but now, they were hoping to come up next weekend, instead.

  Emily nodded enthusiastically. Her grandparents on her father’s side lived in New York, and usually liked to order in food every night, instead of cooking on their own. But, she knew they would be happy to make an exception in this case.

  When they were finished with their supper-that-felt-more-like-an-afternoon-snack, Emily went into the den, so that her parents could get the cake ready without her watching. When they called her back in, there was a chocolate cake with chocolate-chip ice cream filling and frozen mocha whipped cream for frosting, waiting for her on the kitchen table. Her name was spelled across the top in brightly colored M&M’s, too.

  Her parents sang “Happy Birthday” to her, and then, Emily blew out the candles with one burst of air—twelve blue candles, with one to grow on.

  “Happy birthday!” her mother said. “Do you feel any different now?”

  “Very old,” Emily said. “And mature.”

  Her father nodded. “You look so mature, that I might not even have recognized you.”

  Since the cake wasn’t going to last very long with the freezer off, they could eat as much as they wanted, which was fun. It was melting pretty quickly, but still tasted great.

  Josephine jumped onto the table and tasted the whipped cream on the cake—which made Emily’s father cringe a little. He did his best to be comfortable around their pets, but for him, it was still a very long work-in-progress.

  “Don’t worry, we’ll cut off that part, Theo,” Emily’s mother said.

  He nodded emphatically. “We’d better, yeah. To be safe.”

  Emily never worried much about cat or dog germs, but it would make her father shudder if she reminded him of that.

  Before the storm hit, they had bought a special battery-operated emergency radio, which was designed to pick up weather reports. But, they also had an old AM/FM radio that also used batteries, and after supper, they went into the den to listen to the Red Sox game.

  It was dark out now, but her mother had set up two of their lanterns, too, and the den felt nice and cozy. So, they played Monopoly for a while, and they also had their e-book readers.

  Of course, they could read actual books, if they wanted, but the light was pretty dim.

  They listened to the baseball game, until it was over, and the Red Sox had, unfortunately, lost again.

  It was very quiet in the room. Josephine was on Emily’s lap, purring, and Zack had climbed up onto the couch next to her. Her father was in an easy chair across from her, with his ankle propped up on some pillows on the coffee table, and her mother was in the antique rocking chair.

  “It’s been an awfully long day,” her mother said. “I think it’s really time for all of us to get some sleep.”

  It had been a long day, and none of them had gotten much sleep the night before, inside the hurricane shelter.

  Still, this seemed like it might be a good time to talk to her parents, while it was so quiet and there were no distractions. They couldn’t turn on the television, none of the phones were going to ring, and their computers weren’t working, so there weren’t going to be any outside interruptions.

  The mood in the room was nice and relaxed, and Emily didn’t want to change that. But, she had a huge question she wanted—and needed—to ask. A question she had been waiting to ask for hours. She was afraid to bring it up, though. She patted Zack, trying to make up her mind.

  “What?” her father said. “You look very worried.”

  “Is it okay if I ask an important question?” Emily asked. “I don’t want you guys to be upset.”

  Her parents both shrugged.

  “Sure,” her mother said. “Why not?”

  Okay. After all, her parents always said that she could talk to them about anything, so maybe they wouldn’t mind her bringing this up? Emily took a deep breath. “Did both of you know my mother? Like, as a friend, not a stranger? My birth mother, I mean?”

  For a minute, it was completely silent in the room, and then her parents exchanged uneasy glances.

  Wait, did that mean that it was true? Emily stared at them.

  “Who told you that?” her father asked.

  Did it matter? And wasn’t the important part that her parents, who should have told her, didn’t? “I know it’s true,” Emily said, “and I feel like you guys should, you know, tell me about it.”

  It was very quiet again.

  Her father sighed. “We don’t know very much, Emily. We really don’t.”

  “But, you know a lot more about it than I thought,” Emily said.

  Her parents exchanged glances again, and then nodded.

  “So, can you tell me about her?” Emily asked.

  Her mother let out her breath. “I guess this conversation is long overdue, but—well, it’s complicated. Are you sure you want to get into it tonight? Maybe we could wait until tomorrow morning, or—”

  The longer they waited, the more tense they were all going to be. Emily shook her head. “I’d really rather do it tonight. I mean, I know you guys are tired and everything, but—” She was feeling guilty now, so she decided to stop and just concentrate on patting Zachary.

  “I think this is a good time to talk about it,” her father said. “We’ve probably put it off for too long, but we wanted to wait until you were a little older. But, twelve is probably a good age for it.”

  Her mother nodded. “Your father’s right. This is probably as good a time as we’re likely to find, and—” She sighed. “Okay. Sure. Let’s talk about it.”

  Emily wasn’t sure if she was excited—or scared, but for the first time in her life, she was actually going to learn a lot more about who she was, and where she had come from.

  Wow!

  3

  Of course, now that they had decided to talk about it, there was nothing but awkward silence in the room. In fact, when Josephine yawned and stretched, Emily and her parents all jumped.

  “So, you knew my mother?” Emily asked. She had almost said “my real mother,” but mana
ged to catch herself at the last second. “My birth mother, I mean?”

  Her parents looked at each other for a long minute.

  “We didn’t know her, exactly,” her mother said, after a pause. “But, yes, we did, in a manner of speaking.”

  That was such an incredibly vague answer that Emily frowned.

  “We had wanted a child ever since we got married,” her father said. “And we had registered with adoption agencies, and—well, so much time went by. After a while, I don’t think either of us really believed that it would ever happen.”

  None of that was new information, but Emily nodded receptively. It made sense that her parents might want to ease into the whole subject.

  There was another silence in the room, which seemed to stretch out for a really long time.

  Finally, her mother broke it. “She was a student at the college. I hadn’t had her in class, and neither had your father, but she confided in—” She stopped. “A colleague,” she said finally.

  Okay, that meant that the “colleague” was someone Emily knew, probably a professor friend of her parents.

  “She didn’t know what she was going to do,” her mother went on. “But, she didn’t think she was ready to raise a child, and—well, she was leaning very strongly towards a completely closed adoption. But then, she decided that she would rather know something about who her child’s parents were going to be. And, in the end, she was generous and loving enough to be willing to allow us to have the great honor of being your parents.”

  That made it all sound really noble on her birth mother’s part, and maybe it was—but, it certainly didn’t feel that way.

  “And then, just, what,” Emily said. “Back to her normal life, like nothing ever happened?”

  She must have sounded very tense, and maybe even angry, because Zachary made an anxious little whining sound, and she quickly patted him a few times, so that he wouldn’t worry.

  Her father shook his head. “No, of course not. It had to have been a completely life-changing event for her. She withdrew from the college while she was pregnant, and ultimately ended up transferring someplace else. But, when she went into labor, we flew down right away, so that we could be at the hospital during the birth. I’m sorry, I meant, during your birth,” he corrected himself. “And then, a few days later, we brought you home.”

  That was all still a lot more vague than Emily wanted it to be. In fact, other than finding out that her birth mother had been a student, it wasn’t anything she didn’t already know. Except, wait, maybe there was another possible detail buried in there. “Flew down where?” she asked.

  Her parents glanced at each other.

  “Atlanta,” her father said.

  Okay. That was something specific. “So, I’m Southern?” Emily said.

  Her mother nodded. “Technically, yes, I guess you are, although I never really thought about it that way.”

  So, she was from somewhere. From a specific place. A real place, not something she had to imagine. There were so many different questions to ask that she really didn’t know where to start. So, maybe she should just go with a really obvious question. “Was she African-American?” Emily asked.

  Her parents nodded.

  Okay. “Do I get to know her name?” Emily asked.

  Her parents instantly shook their heads.

  “I’m sorry,” her mother said. “But, we promised. So, we could never do that without her permission. It would be a violation of the agreement.”

  Maybe, but who would know the difference? And she should certainly be allowed to know her own mother’s name, shouldn’t she? Emily frowned. “Are you guys in touch with her?”

  Her mother didn’t quite meet her eyes—which was very, very suspicious. “Once in a while,” she said finally. “I send her occasional photos and notes.”

  “Does she answer them?” Emily asked.

  Her mother shook her head. “Almost never.”

  Great. That was just great. Her birth mother wasn’t even interested in finding out about her. She didn’t realize she had clenched her fist until she felt Zack nuzzling her hand. So, with an effort, she loosened her fingers and patted him some more, instead. “Do you think she even looks at the pictures?” Emily asked.

  Her mother nodded. “I’m quite sure she does. And once every year or two, she’ll send an email and say thank you.”

  That didn’t mean that Emily was about to nominate her to be Mother of the Year, though, did it?

  “I know this is really hard for you, Emily,” her father said, “but I think it’s also very difficult for her. She had to make some really grueling decisions, and—well, your mother and I will never stop being grateful to her.”

  “Is she still in Atlanta?” Emily asked.

  Right away, her parents shook their heads.

  If they were that sure, then, they knew exactly where she did live—but, they probably weren’t going to give her the details. “Do you know where she lives?” she asked.

  “Somewhere near Washington, D.C.,” her mother said. “Although I think she moved a couple of years ago, and I don’t have that address.”

  This was so totally weird, and upsetting. “But, you know how to get in touch,” Emily said.

  Her mother nodded uneasily. “Yes.”

  Emily waited for her to give more details, and then realized that it wasn’t going to happen.

  “I don’t think very many people in her life know about what happened,” her father said, “and it’s always been my sense that she wants to keep it that way.”

  Emily nodded stiffly. “Because she’s ashamed.”

  “Not ashamed of you,” her mother said quickly. “But, I know she must have a lot of regrets about not being able to keep you in her life, and I think she just decided to keep all of it in the past.”

  Maybe another clue was buried in there, too. “Are you saying that she’s married now?” Emily asked.

  Her mother nodded reluctantly.

  Being married wasn’t that big a deal, so there must be more to it, based upon her mother’s uncomfortable expression. “Does she have children?” Emily asked.

  Her mother sighed.

  Oh, wow. That just couldn’t be possible. Emily almost gasped. “You mean, children she kept?”

  “Yes,” her mother said. “She has twins. I think they would be about a year old now, although I’m not completely sure.”

  So, she did have children—and children she wanted. Children she was proud of, and loved, and didn’t keep hidden. “You mean, children she liked better than me,” Emily said.

  “No, it’s not that simple, Emily,” her father said. “She’s in a very different stage of her life now. She’s in a situation where she’s able to take care of them, which she wasn’t, when she was a student.”

  All of this was really more than she felt as though she could take in, and she was suddenly feeling unbelievably tired, but Emily couldn’t bring herself to stop asking questions, either. “So, she has like, this nice little family now,” Emily said, “and I’m this big bad secret?”

  Her mother sighed. “People do the best they can, Emily.”

  Maybe, but her birth mother’s “best” seemed to be pretty lousy. “Do you think she would ever want to meet me?” Emily asked.

  “I’m sure that, somewhere deep inside, she would want to get a chance to see you,” her mother said, and then shook her head reluctantly. “But, I honestly don’t think that’s something she wants to have happen.”

  Oh. Emily tried not to look as crushed as she felt. “Can you ask her? The next time you get in touch with her?”

  “Of course,” her mother said. “I can’t promise that she’ll answer me, but I absolutely will ask. That’s a promise from me.”

  Okay. And her mother—who was her real mother—always kept her promises.

  “What matters the most, Emily, is that we get to have you as our child,” her father said. “That’s what’s important to your mother and me.”
r />   Yeah. But, this was still all really upsetting. So, she might as well go for broke and ask the other important question. “What about my father?” Emily asked.

  “She never told us,” her mother answered. “In fact, I’m not sure she told anyone, even him.”

  What kind of person could walk around keeping total secrets like that? Huge, important secrets? Did Emily even want to be related to someone who could do that? Not that she had a choice, of course. “Was he a student, too?” she asked.

  Her father shrugged. “Probably, but we just don’t know.”

  “Do you even know if he was white or black?” Emily asked.

  Her parents shook their heads.

  It could be either, since she was reasonably light-skinned. Now that she was thinking about it, it was kind of weird that she didn’t really wonder very much about her birth father. It was always the idea of her birth mother that loomed in her mind. But, the truth was that half of her came from someone who was obviously a complete stranger, even to her parents.

  Emily slouched back against the couch cushions, rubbing her hands across her eyes for a few seconds. It wasn’t that she felt like crying, exactly, but she felt—jumbled inside. And really, really confused. “When you send her photos and all, does she ask a bunch of questions?” she asked.

  “She usually just thanks me, and doesn’t say anything more than that,” her mother said. “But, she was impressed by your sketch for the Faculty Contest.”

  Which had been of the lighthouse down on the point, on a windy day, with rocks and waves and seagulls everywhere. She had won second prize—and still, privately, thought that the first-prize winner, a splotchy oddly-colored mass of flowers and leaves, hadn’t been nearly as good.

  “You got robbed,” her father said. “Those flowers were very mediocre.”

  Emily grinned in spite of herself, but decided not to admit that she agreed one hundred percent.