Chapter Eight: Debating
as told by Mark
Mr. Cohen, Ms. Johnson:
My name is Remington Devert and I am writing to on behalf of my son, and his wife and daughter.
Ian and Victorria adopted Isobella Cohen on 15 Nov. 1980, and requested that I find you should anything happen to them. It was their deepest wish that you could, if you so choose, to be reunited with your daughter and allowed to develop a relationship.
They had tried to find you when she was younger and was unable. He stopped and they decided to wait until she was old enough to understand. Victorria made copies of everything and has gathered them in case you were to be found.
My granddaughter, now nineteen, is unsure of the situation, but as a grandfather I thought it would be in the best interest to notify you of your daughter's adoptive parents death of a year ago and finally give to you the box of mementos. Should you choose not to know either send it back, I'll cover the fee, or keep it until you are ready. My deepest apologies for the delayment.
Remington Devert.
I couldn't do anything but stare at the letter I held in my hands. I never expected this, I probably hoped for it somewhere. I didn't need any convincing to open the box, convincing myself I'd tell Maureen later.
I skim through baby pictures and elementary school pictures. Isobella, but then again I don't know if that is still her name. I dig through the box to another album. This one is marked 'HIGH SCHOOL', inside is a copy of her diploma. The name catches my eye...No. it wouldn't be...it couldn't, but it is. As I look through the pictures my suspicions are confirmed.
The pictures slowly become someone I recognize, can put a name to, one that is definitely not Isobella. I turn back to the coped diploma.
Hannah Cadyn Devert...Cade.
I realize they kept her middle name.
Suddenly Roger barges into my room.
"Mark, come o...what's this? Is that Cade?"
He looks at me suspiciously and I fumble to put everything back in the box.
"What's going on Mark?"
He sits on the mattress near me.
"Um, Roger," I guess have to tell him otherwise it'd be hard to explain.
"Roger, do remember when Scott got into that accident a month after your guy's birthday?"
He nods, "And not too long after that you said you were 'too old' to play with us. As a ten year old, that was like getting punched. I was a pathetic ten year old."
"Yes, you were, but that's not the point, um...you see Maureen and I we um...well, Maureen got pregnant."
He just kind of stared at me.
"When? Then?"
I nod. "We gave her up for adoption...when we started hanging out again it had been a couple of years, and not even my parents knew, well, I hadn't told them."
"It's Cade isn't it? That why you have her pictures."
"I just found out right before you came in."
He gets up, "Mark, don't take this the wrong way, but don't tell her. I'm your best friend and I really don't care that I didn't know...it's your business, but I talked to Cade about it once and she said she doesn't want to know."
I would have protested but he continued, "Besides you need to figure it out...take time to just think about it."
He's probably right.
There is a sudden, loud squeal from below and after a minute we can hear our door open and then,
"Ad! Daddy?"
Roger looks at me, "Noah? He wasn't supposed..."
He trails off and we find the two year old Davis trying to reach a bowl of abandoned cereal.
Roger comes from behind and lifts him up.
"Hey little man! How'd you get here?"
"Uncle Scott."
"Where is Uncle Scott?"
The box just grins and points down.
(narration interrupted by Roger)
I hand Noah off to Mark, "Can you watch him for a few seconds. I'm gonna go down there for a sec."
Mark going down there might not be the best idea right now.
As I go down the stairs, I push aside what Mark told me.
Who'd of guessed?
I knock and the door opens.
"Roger. Did Noah get up to the loft okay?"
"Yeah. I just came to see why my brother was down here."
Scott shrugs, "I'm moving in."
I think I just threw up a little in my mouth,
"What? What about your job?"
He shrugs again, "Quit, I've never seen a group of more pompous jerks. And Cade's going to need help with Matty."
Cade gives a light punch on my arm, "Oh come on Roger it's not like there is any room upstairs. Plus, they always need help at the clinic."
I feel like the roles have been reversed, I've become the conscience, worried one, and Scott's gone all care free and wild.
This is not happening.
"Are you two...um, you've obviously been communicating...are you.."
Cade looks at me,
"Would it bother you?"
It wouldn't have if it hadn't been for two minor details, one, Scott is my brother, and two, the small bit of information Mark had disclosed.
(Back to Mark)
Since he came back Roger hasn't said much. He's just playing the guitar...reworking yet another song and Noah is taking a nap.
The phone rings.
"Speak"
Beep.
"Mark? Mark Cohen? Uh...this is Ella Kirson..I thought I'd see if you were really serious about the offer from last week. Call..."
"Ella? No, this is his roommate, Roger, Mark's right here...he was detained."
He holds the phone in my direction, and mouths, this might help
How the hell did he think that was going to help?
"Hi, Ella, yeah...sure...that sounds good."
Author's notes:
BwayDiva: Do you see? I didn't intend on a cliff hanger it just got really long.
Lils: Is this soon enough?)
Kelby: Still? Is that what you saw in the box (It probably is isn't it?)
carsonheir: again, didn't intend for the cliffie but that threat actually doesn't sound too bad really, made I should write more cliffies...
okay, how was that? I just needed a transition chapter and I'm so excited about the next couple of chapters my self so you are warned.
Until next time this is me...signing out.