"I beg your pardon," Jennie said in an affronted tone. "How the devil can you blame me for your daughter choosing her own career path? I've only just met Amanda so I couldn't possibly have any influence over her."
"It's very simple, really," Dotty began to explain. "You heard then telling the tale last night of how they met, how Lee was in danger and he recruited Amanda to help him."
"Yes, of course," Jennie answered. "It felt very much as if I were reliving my own memories."
Dotty nodded, "Well, let me tell you something, while you're right that you couldn't have had any influence over my daughter, you do have influence over your son, or rather his memories of you do, his memories of being motherless so young. That whole thing at the train station would never have happened to Amanda had your son not joined the intelligence community himself. Do you want to know why he did? Because of you and your husband, your reckless behavior that caused him to be orphaned."
"Now, you're being utterly ridiculous," Jennie snapped impatiently. "There are many other parents who work in dangerous careers, police officers for example, or firefighters. Many of them leave their children orphaned as well and no one berates them for doing so. They are lauded as heroes."
"Yes, true. I'm not saying that what you did wasn't heroic. It was very heroic, just as the job that my daughter and her husband do is heroic, but there's a big difference. Those children of policemen and firefighters you mentioned? They know what happened to their parents," Dotty argued. "You see them on the news programs all the time, as you said, being praised to giving their lives to save others and how tragic it is. It's not only the danger of your work or your "death" that prompted your son to follow in your footsteps, it was the hope that one day, he might use his career to get the answers that he was deprived of about what really happened to you. You have no right coming here and stirring all of that up again when he's just found some peace and happiness in his life with my daughter and their children."
"Well, you have no right judging me when you couldn't possible understa-"
"You're right," Dotty cut her off. "I don't understand. I don't understand how any mother who loves her children could do what you did. What I do understand is that I love Lee as if he were my very own son and-"
"He's not your son," Jennie interrupted, her jealousy of Dotty flaring again despite Amanda's calm explanation of the situation the night before. "He's mine and you'd do well to remember that."
"That's something that you should maybe have remembered thirty years ago," Dotty fired back. At seeing her wounded look on the other woman's face, Dotty explained further, "Look, I don't think that you're a bad person, but I think you made some bad choices." She sighed and continued with a smile and a nod toward her granddaughter in Jennie's arms. "There is something good that came from it. We're obviously going to have to agree to disagree on this, but I wouldn't have had any kind of peace if I didn't speak my mind."
"I can see where Amanda gets that from," Jennie said with an awkward chuckle.
"Oh, I'm much worse than she is," Dotty said with a genuine laugh before turning serious again. "Listen, Mrs. Stetson..."
"It's Jennie."
"All right, Jennie, then. One thing that we agree on is that we both love our children, and we do share two beautiful grandchildren." She glanced down at the sleeping infant in her arms and then nodded again to baby Jennie, "Now, that we've gotten everything out in the open, we should attempt to put aside our differences for their sakes."
"I couldn't agree with you more," Jennie replied as she gazed down at the tiny little girl who bore her name who stared back at her wide-eyed, her dark eyes identical to those of her daughter-in-law's.
"I should put this little one down since he's fallen asleep on me again," Dotty told her as she made her way to the nursery.
Jennie nodded and followed her, "Amanda said that he sleeps more than his sister."
"I don't know that that's necessarily true," Dotty replied as she tucked Matt into his crib. "They sleep about the same amount. It's just that Jennie wakes up more often. She doesn't sleep as soundly so any tiny little thing will wake her, but she usually drops right back off unless she needs changed or fed."
"I see," Jennie said.
"In fact, I bet if you were to put her down, she'd go right back to sleep now." Dotty nodded toward her granddaughter. Jennie took her cue and gently laid the baby in her crib, softly stroking the child's fine, dark hair. "She looks a little like you."
"You really think so?" Jennie asked with a smile.
Dotty nodded. "The dark eyes, very much like yours." She paused as she watched the little girl suck her fist into her mouth as she began to drift off to sleep. "I'm going to make some tea. Would you like some?"
"That would be lovely," Jennie answered.
"Good," Dotty said with a firm nod as she and Jennie exited the room together. "We can get to know each other a little better while the children are sleeping." She still didn't approve of the other woman's actions, but Amanda had opened her home to her and she owed it to her daughter to at least make an effort.
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Lee and Amanda looked at one another exchanging a what-do-we-do-now look, Lee giving Amanda a pained face at their efforts to find his sister being halted. Amanda placed a hand n his arm to soothe him and looked then back at the older nun who'd abruptly put a stop to their inquiries. Before either could say a word, the woman stated, "I asked you a question. What business do you have asking for the records on Jenna Davis?"
Amanda once again whipped out her badge and introduced herself, "We're here on a federal investigation regarding the daughter she gave up for adoption. We have reason to believe that her life may be in danger. We'd appreciate any assistance you could give us, Sister...?"
"Jean-Marie," The woman answered in a clipped tone. She looked Amanda up and down, taking in her dark hair and eyes, smiled slightly and said, "Ms...Uh...Stetson...did you say?"
"Actually, it's Mrs. Stetson," Amanda corrected.
Sister Jean-Marie's smile faded at Amanda's amendment, the brief moment of hope she'd felt dwindling. "Mrs. Stetson, is it?" She looked at Amanda warily and at noticing the wedding set she wore, then glance at Lee, taking in the matching gold band on his hand. She looked at him sternly and asked, "And you are?"
"Lee Stetson," He answered a bit shakily as he pulled out his own ID to show it to her, "I...Um...Jenna Davis was...I mean, she is..."
The older nun softened at seeing Lee's discomfort, took him by the arm and led him toward the door behind the desk. "Come with me." She nodded to Amanda to follow. "Sister Rosemary, if anyone else arrives, tell them the record archives are closed for inventory purposes, do you understand?"
"Y-y-yes, S-s-sister," the younger woman stammered as she resumed her position at the desk.
Sister Jean-Marie led Lee and Amanda through the records room past row upon row of filing cabinets to the back corner farthest from the door, pulling a set of keys from the loosely-tied belt at the waist of her tunic as they reached a large filing cabinet that stood there from floor to ceiling. She then nodded to Lee and said, "Mr. Stetson, may I ask your assistance here?" She gestured to the cabinet. When he looked at her in confusion, she explained, "This needs to be moved and I'm afraid that I don't have the strength that I once did, arthritis, you know."
Lee looked at Amanda who just shrugged and then gave him an encouraging nod. Together, they heaved the bulky cabinet away from the wall and looked at one another in surprise to find a door hidden behind it. Lee shook his head and said softly, "Looks like something the agency would do."
"Follow me, please," Sister Jean-Marie commanded as she unlocked the door and led them into a much smaller room, flipping the light on as she did so. In this room, instead of rows of filing cabinets, they flanked each wall and a conference table sat in the center of the room. "Have a seat," The nun said.
As Lee and Amanda took seat opposite one another, they watched as Sister Jean-Marie walked straight to a cabinet across the room, keys in hand, unlocked it and retrieved a thick file from it, unceremoniously dropping it on the table. "Here, you are, Mr. Stetson. This is everything we have on your mother and what happened to your sister after she was born."
Lee gaped at the nun in shock. "I-I-I- How did you know?"
"Mr. Stetson, this hospital has serviced the needs of the intelligence community for years," She stated bluntly. "Many times, when an operative is in need of medical care that can't be a matter of public record, they're brought here and only the barest information is entered into our computer system and sometimes none at all. I was here when your mother gave birth to your sister and was one of only two people here at the hospital who was apprised of her situation by a CIA agent named Carpenter. When we started to use computers years later, he advised me to upload just the basic information about your mother, so that if you ever came looking for your sister, you'd know where to begin."
Lee glanced down at the file before him, wanting to open it, but not wanting to at the same time. Instead, he glanced at the nun and said, "Then why did you act as if we were public enemy number one when we asked?"
"All the classified files in our computer system are flagged so that if anyone arrives asking about them, I'm to be alerted immediately. The receptionist at the information desk saw the alert on it and called me the second you left her desk. I'm sure you understand, Mr. Stetson, that just like you, we have to protest our secrets."
Lee nodded in understanding and glanced back down at the file, his thoughts whirling wondering if he was ready for this. Was he really ready to track down a sister who didn't know he even existed? What would her reaction be? Was she one of many adopted children who'd longed to know where she came from? Or was she the kind who was perfectly happy with her life and saw her birth family as the enemy for abandoning her? A third possibility occurred to him as he stared at the file. Did she even know that the parents who raised her were not her own blood? Given her birth date, she would be thirty-two in less than a month. Surely, she knew that she was adopted by now. At that age, she might even be married and have a family of her own as he did.
At seeing Lee's hesitation, Amanda reached across the table for his hand and said soothingly, "Sweetheart, it's okay. Whatever we find in that file, we'll work through it together." She then released his hand, rose from her seat, walked to the other side of the table and linked her arms around him from behind, sensing that he would need her close by.
Lee nodded, swallowed hard, opened the file and began to peruse its contents, flipping past all the pages full of medical jargon, looking for anything that would give him a clue as to his sister's whereabouts after she'd left the hospital. Lee chuckled softly as he spotted something that caught his eye. "Huh." he said.
"What is it, Sweetheart," Amanda inquired.
"Elizabeth Lorraine Davis," Lee answered. "My...uh...Mom told me that that's what she and Dad were going to name me if I'd been a girl."
Amanda smiled. "Hmm, so it seems that even without all her memories, something of her still came through at the time." She recalled her own bout with amnesia a few years ago; how strange it had been that she remembered some things, but not others.
"I don't get it though," Lee said with a shake of his head. "She told me that she didn't know what her name was."
"And she didn't," Sister Jean-Marie replied. "The name she was given at birth was not the name that she left the hospital with." She gave him an encouraging nod. "Go on, keep reading."
Lee got to the end of the file, looked back at the nun and questioned, "This is it? This is all you have?"
"I'm afraid so," she answered.
"Then this has been a complete waste of my time," Lee snapped as he pushed the file roughly away from him, shoving it onto the floor as he shook off his wife and rose from his seat angrily. He turned on the nun and roared, "You could have just told me from the start that you didn't know where she was or...or...or who she was!"
"Lee, calm down," Amanda said as she reached for his arm to comfort him. When he shook her off, she bent to pick up the fallen file and indicated the last page of it. "Listen, we may not know who she is or where she is, but we have another lead." She then tugged at his arm again with her free hand and pointed at the file. "Look, right there." When he did as she asked, she continued, "See? There's the name of the adoption agency that was used. We can go there next."
"I'm afraid that won't be quite as easy," the sister interjected. "Private adoption records are sealed and given the secretive nature of this one, you'll need a lot more than just a federal ID to gain access to those records."