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The following morning, I showered and dressed before Richard arrived. The house had never felt so empty as it had the last six months since my mother entered hospice. After brewing a cup of coffee, I heard the doorbell ring. I opened it, and Richard kissed me on the cheek before entering.
“Did you get any sleep?” he asked.
“No.”
“Me either. I brought beignets from her favorite French bakery.” He set the white box on the table.
“Coffee?” I asked.
“Yes, please. With?—”
“Two sugars and a splash of almond milk. I know.” I smiled.
After making his coffee, I set it before him while he opened his briefcase. Taking the seat across from him, he slid a white envelope across the table.
“This letter is for you. It’s from your mother. She dictated it to me a couple of weeks ago and asked that I give it to you upon her death.”
I picked up the envelope with my name on it and opened it, pulling out the folded stationery she always kept in the top drawer of her desk.
Dear Claire,
My sweet girl. My only daughter and the love of my life. I tried to be the best mother I could be. You’re a wonderful and beautiful woman, so I think I did an excellent job. The onething I loved about our beautiful mother/daughter relationship was that we never kept secrets. But there was one I held onto since I found out I was pregnant with you. In the wall safe in my office is your original birth certificate stating the name of your biological father—the one I was given right after you were born. I know I told you that when I got pregnant, your father walked out and never came back. That was a lie. I never told him about you. My life back then was so different. I was young and naive, and I loved him. When he left Paris, and I found out I was pregnant with you, I followed him to Los Angeles. I gave up everything for that man, only to discover the truth of who he really was. He was married to a woman named Barb, and he had four small boys, quadruplets. After we spoke, I knew he was not a good man. All the things she told me were the truths to his lies. Your birthright is to know your family—your blood. And I’m sorry I kept that from you all these years. I was so happy and in love with Joseph that I never gave Henry a second thought and never looked back. Do what you will with the information you’ve been given. I hope that after reading this, you can forgive me. I had to do what was in the best interest of both of us. I love you, my sweet girl, and I know you’ll always be the strong, brave girl I taught and raised you to be.
Love, Mom
I wiped the tears from my eyes as I set down the letter and looked at Richard, who stared at me sympathetically. Reaching into the box, I pulled out a beignet and bit into it.
“Are you okay?” Richard asked.
“Did you know about any of this? You two were very close.”
“No. Not until she told me as I wrote the letter for her.”
I stood up, went into her office, took the portrait of myself down, and opened the wall safe, combing through all the papers until I found my original birth certificate.
“Henry Kind?” I asked Richard as he stood in the doorway with his hands tucked into his pants pockets. “She said in her letter that he had four small boys, which means I have four brothers.” I cocked my head.
“Come and sit down.” He held out his hand. “I did some digging.”
I returned to the kitchen, sat at the table, and pulled another beignet from the box.
“You actually have five brothers,” Richard said. “All of whom are six years older than you. Apparently, your father got another woman pregnant while his wife Barb was pregnant with the boys.”
“Wow. He sounds like a real winner.” I shook my head.
“You also have a sister named Nora. She was born a few years ago by his current wife, Celeste. Unfortunately, Henry passed away when Nora was just a baby, as did the child’s mother, a couple of years ago.”
“He’s dead?”
“Yes, Claire. He died of a massive heart attack.”
“And my brothers? Where are they?”
“They’re living on a beach in Venice, California. Your father owned Kind Design & Architecture, which your brothers Sam and Stefan now run. Your other brother, Sebastian, is a chef and owns three restaurants: Four Kinds, Emilia’s, and Kind Brewhouse. Your brother, Simon, is a detective for the LAPD, and your other brother, Shaun, is the CEO and owner of Sterling Capital. All five of them are happily married with children.”
“So, I’m an aunt, too?”
“You are.” He smiled.
