Chapter 10 - The Adoption File
I requested a meeting with Brandon through lawyers.
No negotiation.
No case discussion.
Personal.
His attorney agreed if protective order modified for supervised meeting in David’s office.
We sat across.
No Amber.
No prosecutors.
Only our attorneys nearby.
I placed a copy of adoption decree on table.
Brandon did not touch.
“You know.”
“Yes.”
“How long?”
“About a year.”
“Why didn’t you ask?”
He laughed bitterly.
“What was I supposed to ask? Hey Dad, why did you lie to me for thirty seven years?”
“That would’ve been a start.”
His eyes flashed.
“You think this is funny?”
“No.”
“Was Elaine my mother?”
“Yes.”
“Legally.”
“And emotionally.”
“She wanted me.”
“So did I.”
“You expect me to believe that?”
“Yes.”
He finally looked.
“Who was Rebecca?”
“Your biological mother. Elaine’s cousin.”
“Drug addict.”
“She struggled with addiction.”
“And my father?”
“Thomas Vail.”
“Murderer.”
“Yes.”
“Death row.”
“No.”
He looked confused.
“What?”
“He was convicted and died in prison. Not death row.”
“Amber said…”
“Amber was wrong.”
His face tightened.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because your mother and I were afraid.”
“Of what?”
“You feeling different.”
“I am different.”
“No.”
“I’m not yours.”
That sentence hurt.
I leaned forward.
“Brandon, I chose you.”
He looked away.
“I changed your diapers. Sat through every baseball game. Paid for college. Held you when Elaine died. Bought you a house.”
“Not in my name.”
There.
“You think that was because adoption?”
“Wasn’t it?”
“No.”
“Prove it.”
“How do I prove a motive from five years ago?”
He said nothing.
“I bought through Redwood because that is how I held investment property.”
“Convenient.”
“You signed the occupancy agreement.”
“I thought it was paperwork.”
“That is your problem, Brandon. You keep hearing what you want and calling paperwork meaningless.”
He stared.
I continued:
“I loved you enough that I let you believe consequences weren’t real.”
“Don’t.”
“I failed you there.”
“You failed me by lying.”
“Yes.”
That surprised him.
I said:
“We should have told you.”
His eyes filled.
“But adoption did not make me love you less.”
“You’re selling everything now.”
“I sold one house after you beat me and forged documents.”
“Because I’m not blood.”
“No.”
“You cut me off.”
“Because you committed fraud.”
He stood.
His lawyer moved.
I remained seated.
Brandon said:
“You want me to believe you’d do this to a biological son?”
“Yes.”
He laughed.
“Bullshit.”
I said:
“Then nothing I say today will change you.”
He looked at decree.
“Why tell me now?”
“Because truth belongs to you even when I’m angry.”
His face broke slightly.
I slid envelope.
Inside photographs.
Him at two.
Me holding him.
Elaine asleep beside crib.
First day school.
Baseball.
Graduation.
No speeches.
“Keep them.”
He did not pick up.
I left.
Later, David said:
“You did what you could.”
“No.”
“What?”
May you like
“I did what I should’ve done thirty years ago.”
That was different.
