Vivian was pretty sure that Hope was her long-lost sister, the one even younger than Christine, whom Vivian had never met.
The prospect of meeting Hope made Vivian nervous. She didn’t know what to expect and took a few deep breaths.
How many secrets does Rose have? Vivian wondered.
Vivian opened the door to a young woman with long brown hair, brown eyes, and a creamy complexion. For some reason, she’d assumed the young woman would have some features analogous to Christine or Rose. She greeted Hope with a warm smile and a friendly demeanor. “Hi, Hope. Please come in.” She stepped aside to let Hope enter.
“Thank you, Vivian,” Hope said.
Vivian closed the door and led the way to the front room. “Have a seat. Would you like something to drink or—”
“No, thanks. I’m all right.”
“Well, if you’ll please excuse me a moment, I’m going to fix myself a glass of iced tea.” Vivian went into the kitchen and returned moments later, and sat near Hope.
“So . . .” Vivian said. “You’re my sister.”
“Yes. Half-sister. I’m just as surprised as you are.”
“That’s the understatement of the century.”
“As you may already have put two and two together, I was born to Jack and Julia Windom, my biological parents. I had been given up for adoption shortly after I was born. That makes me twenty-one years old now. My adoptive parents are Anthony and Karen Patton. I’ve lived in Canoga Park all my life and went to school there. Right after my high school graduation, my parents informed me that I’d been adopted. Naturally, it hurt at first, but they were very kind and generous enough to provide me with all the necessary information, which subsequently led me to you.”
“How come you didn’t want your adoptive parents to know that you would be coming here to see me?”
“I didn’t want them to know yet. I didn’t know how it would turn out. I would rather avoid any clashes or hard feelings. Don’t get me wrong. I love them very much. They’re good parents and wonderful people. I was afraid, you know.”
“I understand.”
“Not much about my biological mother had been mentioned over the years, but it’d been said that she used to be a model, then an actress, and that she’s also your mother, from what I understand. I’ve heard very little about your father, Charles Hutchins. I’ve also been told that my biological father owned and operated some worldwide ecological corporation and that he was a CEO or a financier or something like that. As for your grandmother, Desirée Hutchins, I don’t remember much of what was said about her.”
“She passed away from natural causes years ago.”
“I’m sorry.”
As Vivian mulled over the information in her mind while she spoke with Hope, she recalled that night when Christine pointed to a page in one of Rose’s diaries where Rose had written that she had been pregnant with a fourth child and had given it up for adoption. Vivian now understood what Rose had meant when she’d written, “. . . I can only hope the child . . .” Vivian recalled the word “hope” had been underlined a few times. It hadn’t been for emphasis. It had been a hint.
“Well, Hope,” Vivian said, “all I can tell you is that this whole thing, where you and I are concerned, is one very long story. It goes back twenty-two years where it all began. I’ll tell you all about it. It’s unbelievable.”