The Birthday Party I Was Forbidden to Attend

For several seconds, I couldn't hear anything except my own heartbeat.

My uncle Daniel had been dead before I was born.

That was what my father had just told me.

But Daniel's name was on my birth record, beside the words Paternity Not Confirmed.

Across the street, Vanessa was approaching the café with the measured steps of someone who had never expected to be told no.

"Dad," I whispered into the phone, "what do you mean Daniel died before I was born?""

My father's breathing sounded ragged.

"Emily, listen to me. Don't let Vanessa take those documents.""

"She already knows I'm here!""

"Then get out of there. Go somewhere public, somewhere she can't corner you.""

I glanced at Margaret, who had gathered the papers into her leather folder.

"Who was Daniel?"" I asked.

"Why have I never heard about him?""

My father didn't answer immediately.

Then he said, "He was my younger brother. And the best man at my wedding.""

I stared at the window.

Vanessa had reached the café entrance.

"Richard," she called from the other side of the glass, holding up her phone.

"Tell Emily to come outside. We need to talk.""

My father heard her.

"Emily, don't—"

The call disconnected.

I looked at Margaret.

"Is there another exit?""

She nodded toward the kitchen.

"Come with me.""

We hurried through the narrow corridor behind the counter. A waitress looked up in surprise as Margaret pushed open a service door leading into a small alley.

Cold air struck my face.

I followed Margaret toward the end of the alley, my hands shaking so badly that I nearly dropped my phone.

"Where are we going?"" I asked.

"Somewhere we can speak without being interrupted.""

"Please stop doing that.""

She turned.

"Doing what?""

"Giving me half the truth and expecting me to keep walking.""

Margaret looked at me for a long moment.

Then she sighed.

"You're right.""

She led me to a small public garden two blocks away. We sat on a bench beneath a bare oak tree, and she opened her folder again.

"Daniel was twenty-eight when he died," she said.

"He was charming, reckless, and very much loved by your mother.""

My chest tightened.

"She loved my uncle?""

"I didn't say that. I said she loved him. There is a difference.""

Margaret removed a photograph.

It showed my parents standing outside a church on their wedding day. My father looked impossibly young. My mother was laughing, her head tilted toward a man standing beside them.

The man had my father's eyes.

"Daniel," Margaret said.

I studied his face.

He had the same dark eyebrows, the same slightly crooked smile, and the same small dimple in his left cheek that appeared whenever my father laughed.

"How did he die?""

"A car accident. At least, that's what everyone was told.""

I looked up sharply.

"What does that mean?""

Margaret folded her hands.

"The accident happened six months before you were born. Daniel's car was found near a bridge outside town. The vehicle had gone over the embankment. The authorities identified him using his belongings.""

"Was his body recovered?""

"Yes.""

"Then why does everyone keep talking as though there was a mystery?""

"Because Daniel had been planning to leave the country, and he had withdrawn a considerable amount of money from a joint account shortly before the accident.""

I shook my head.

"That doesn't prove anything.""

"No. But your mother believed he had discovered something dangerous.""

"What?""

Margaret looked away.

"She never told me exactly what.""

I pressed my palms against my knees.

My entire life, I had believed that my family history was simple. My parents had married young, I had been born, my mother had become ill, and my father had eventually found love again.

Now every memory seemed to have a hidden room behind it.

"Did my father know my mother suspected something?""

"Yes.""

"Did he believe her?""

Margaret's silence answered before she spoke.

"He wanted to believe the official report. Daniel was his brother. Accepting that something else might have happened would have meant questioning everything.""

I stared at the photograph again.

"Why was Vanessa involved?""

Margaret reached into the folder and removed another sheet.

"This is a copy of the second laboratory request your mother mentioned.""

At the bottom was a signature.

Vanessa's.

But something else caught my attention.

The request was dated eleven days after Daniel's supposed death.

"Why would she order a paternity test after he died?""

Margaret swallowed.

"That is the question no one has ever answered.""

My phone rang again.

Dad.

I answered.

"Emily, where are you?""

"At the garden near the hospital.""

"Stay there. I'm coming.""

"Dad, I need you to tell me the truth about Daniel.""

"I will.""

"Did you know Mom wanted a paternity test?""

A long silence followed.

"Yes," he admitted.

"Did you know she thought Daniel might be my father?""

Another silence.

Then my father whispered, "Your mother told me that possibility once. I refused to believe it.""

My stomach twisted.

"Why?""

"Because Daniel was dead. Because I had held you in my arms and promised your mother I would raise you. Because I couldn't bear the thought that my brother might have betrayed me.""

"Did he?""

"I don't know.""

His answer was so quiet that it hurt more than a lie would have.

"Then why did you tell me he died before I was born like that explains everything?""

"Because Vanessa told me the hospital records were destroyed. She said there was nothing left to investigate.""

I looked at Margaret.

She was staring at the ground.

"She's been lying to you," I said.

"I know that now.""

"No, Dad. You don't. She knew I was looking at those records before I even told her. She took the document from my room.""

My father's voice hardened.

"She did what?""

"I found it in my jewelry box last night. This morning, it was gone.""

"Emily, don't touch anything else. I'm on my way.""

The call ended.

Margaret stood and fastened her coat.

"You need to understand something," she said.

"Vanessa isn't afraid of what the records say. She's afraid of what the records might lead you to discover.""

"About Daniel?""

"About everyone.""

A black car slowed at the end of the garden.

My heart lurched.

But it wasn't Vanessa's sedan.

My father stepped out, wearing yesterday's shirt beneath an unbuttoned coat. He looked as if he hadn't slept.

When he reached us, he pulled me into his arms.

For a moment, I was twelve again, running to him after a nightmare.

"I'm sorry," he whispered against my hair.

"I'm so sorry.""

I held him tightly.

Then I stepped back.

"Tell me everything.""

He nodded.

"Daniel was supposed to marry Vanessa.""

The world seemed to tilt.

"What?""

"Before she met me, she and Daniel were engaged.""

I looked toward Margaret, who had gone completely still.

My father continued.

"Three months before the accident, Daniel broke off the engagement. He told me Vanessa had been hiding something from him. They had a terrible argument, and afterward, he refused to discuss it.""

"Why didn't you tell me?""

"Because I thought it was irrelevant. Vanessa said she had moved on, and I believed her.""

I stared at him.

"You married your dead brother's fiancée?""

His face crumpled.

"I know how it sounds.""

"No, Dad. I don't think you do.""

He reached for my hand.

"Emily, I never knew about the second test. I never knew Vanessa had been involved in the records. I swear to you.""

I wanted to believe him.

Then Margaret opened her folder one last time.

"There is something else," she said.