Her mother’s lips twitched, and the wrinkles around her mouth bunched like reeds of hay. She took a deep breath and let out a long exhale, as if falling into deeper sleep.
Diana could’ve waited to speak to the woman until it was a more appropriate time. She should’ve. The last couple of days had left them both in this strange suspended state. After their initial discussion about the letters, they’d both retreated to their corners. Diana had begun her research, and her mother … well, she couldn’t assume to know what her mother was doing, except that she had been busy on her iPad.
Diana touched Margo’s fingers, tugged a little. “Ma.”
Finally, Margo came to. Her hand groped for the mask and peeled it off, pushing back her dyed light brown hair—if there was one thing she was intent on, it was keeping those grays away—eyelids fluttering open to reveal her brown eyes. A smile fanned across her face. “Hi, honey.”
“Hey.”
Her eyes narrowed in suspicion, reading Diana’s expression immediately. She inched up in the bed. “What is it?”
“I stayed up most of last night to do research on Flora Reyes, but it was tough. Those genealogy sites were a maze, and Reyes is about as common as Smith and Johnson.” Diana bit her lip.
Her mother side-eyed the laptop. “And?”
“What if I told you that I asked for help?” She reached for her mother’s cat-eye-shaped reading glasses by the table and set the computer on her lap.
Margo peered at the email through spectacles, face tilted up slightly. Her mouth moved as she read the words, face placid at first. Then her jaw dropped ever so slightly and her eyes cut to Diana’s face. “A private investigator?” She took off her glasses. “Could you hand me some water?”
Diana picked up the glass of water from the bedside table, most likely tepid after sitting out most of the night.
Her mother sipped, silence settling around them like a sheer blanket. “How did you find him?”
“Google—he had great reviews.” At her mother’s questioning stare, she rolled her eyes. “I couldn’t sleep. Anyway, I gave this person all the information we had, and voilà, he emailed back with an offer to work with me. Us. He has a contact in the Philippines. Read the email.”
Diana pointed to the screen and read the email anyway. “ ‘I feel that this would be a very simple fact-finding mission.’ ”
“Di,” Margo said warily.
“There could be nothing to find out, or there could be an entire story we don’t know about, but it’s worth some research, isn’t it?”
“That’s the thing, Diana. It was so long ago,” Margo said, glancing away for a beat. “And even if there’s something to find, do we want to know?”
“I mean, why wouldn’t we?”
“I’ve told you that life was tough for your granny when I was born.”
“I know. She was on her own after she got pregnant with you.”
“Me, who ended up looking so different from her.” Her mother nodded, her smile wan.
“Oh, Ma.” Diana knew this story by heart, too, of both Margo and Granny being shunned the rest of her life by Diana’s great-grandfather. Leora had been sent across the country, just shy of giving birth to Margo, and settled in what would become Old Town Alexandria. Leora had worked as a caregiver and then a domestic helper, passing Margo around to newfound friends in their small but tight-knit Filipino community for care until she was school-aged.
“What I’m trying to say is that despite Granny’s rough start, I had a good life. And now I have a daughter who has grown up to be a successful doctor, with her entire future ahead of her. What more do we need to know?”
Diana shook her head. This would not be pushed aside, stacked in piles like the papers that used to litter her mother’s house. This wasn’t like finding an extra dollar bill in a pants pocket. “I disagree. We aren’t the same people with this news. I’m not …” She hesitated as a surge of shame and disappointment ran through her. She pushed it back down, unable to trace it, except that it mimicked the sinking feeling she’d battled for months now. Even given her penchant to assume fault, she wasn’t responsible for this recent news. But the fact remained, she wasn’t going to let these letters go without further investigation.
“I can’t just pretend these letters don’t exist,” Diana said.
“Honey, we’re not even sure if these letters are authentic.”
Diana sat back, surprised at the turn in conversation. “You think they’re fake?”
“No, you’re putting words in my mouth. I’m just saying we don’t really know the context.” She put up a hand. “You weren’t the only one who stayed up half the night thinking about all this. I admit, I was shocked by the letters, but they simply are what they are. So what if he died in the Philippines and not in New Guinea? So what if he lived a little longer than Granny said? If my father were alive today, he would be over a hundred years old, which means he’s passed, most likely. It’s too late.” Her eyes fell to her lap. “And, if my mother lied on purpose, it must have been for a reason. Those were different times, and she was a survivor. I have to trust that she knew what was best.”
“What if I need more?” Diana asked, after a beat.
“What if I don’t?” Margo’s eyes flashed back to her. “Since your granny died, I’ve been feeling like an orphan. Besides you, I have no family. Despite having my best friends still around, it’s frightening to realize that my generation is the oldest, that there’s no one for me to look up to, to look at and compare myself to.”
Diana nodded; she understood. That was why she had asked her mother to move in with her after Granny died. Her decision had been automatic; she didn’t even discuss it with Carlo. Diana, too, loved her granny—she missed her dearly, every day. Having her mother around, she thought, would ease both their losses.
And blood came first. Carlo, on the other hand, couldn’t comprehend the scarcity of Diana’s family, not with his five siblings and dozens of relatives scattered in Puerto Rico and on the East Coast. He was able to trace his lineage several generations, while Diana, on the other hand? Nothing beyond her Granny and Antonio. Unfortunately, Diana’s father had died of a heart condition when she was five; and much like her mother, he was a flighty man, in more ways than one, with no family of his own.
“And now, I consider this time my second chance,” Margo continued, bringing Diana back to earth. “Taking care of your granny, though I would never trade those hard days for anything, opened my eyes. Life is short, Diana. Life is to be celebrated and experienced, and I want that for you, too. Without Carlo. You deserve this second chance, also.” She closed down the laptop. “I don’t need to know more, my love.”
The sound of the laptop shutting sparked a white-hot frustration. Of course her mother was at peace—she had done exactly what she wanted to do in her life, and she said so herself. But Diana wasn’t looking for a second chance. She was still on her first chance. Her first, and she was alone, with her job in jeopardy.
“I need to go on my run,” Diana now said simply, and stood, gently taking the laptop from her mother. She didn’t have the headspace for an argument. “What are your plans today?”