No one spoke. Great-uncle Richard looked lost for words for a moment and Great-aunt Leonora sat there with her mouth open, her tongue frozen.
"This man, this real father, this is the man with whom our niece Megan. He waved his hand in the air to finish his thought. It was beneath him to do more than make some vague references to my mother's affair.
"That's how it works," I said. "How babies get born."
"Don't be impudent," he snapped, but looked away quickly. I began to wonder what bothered him the most about me now: the fact that I was a relative or that he had put a relative into one of his fantasies in the cottage? I was tempted to ask, to shoot hot, mean words back at him, but one glance at Great-aunt Leonora halted my fury. It would drive her into further hysterics and I had no reason to punish her.
"Well," he continued, suddenly buoyed by the news, "did this man offer to take you in?"
"No. He has his own family here."
"I see." He grimaced and nodded. "Actually, I expected to hear something like that."
"It's not what you're suggesting," I said. "He's a respected man, a college professor. I don't want to be the one to ruin his family," I said.
"No? You want to ruin this one instead, is that it?"
"I don't want to ruin any family. I didn't ask to be born like this and then to be sold off and returned this way," I said.
"Sold off?" Great-aunt Leonora looked at her husband. "I don't understand what she means, Richard."
"It's not of any importance now. Spare us those details," he said "We have enough to deal with at the moment. I'm making arrangements as we speak for all of us to fly to Virginia for the funeral and for the aftermath. With you being a part of the legacy, you will have to be there, of course. I'm sure you won't mind leaving school for that:'
"I'm going because I want to be there. Grandmother Hudson was very dear to me." I spun on Great-aunt Leonora before she could moan. "And I won't call her anything else anymore. The truth is finally out and that's it," I said firmly.
She looked like she would shatter into tiny pieces like some piece of china.
"You won't be coming back here," Great-uncle Richard said. "Take everything that belongs to you." "That's fine with me," I said.
"Oh dear, dear," Great-aunt Leonora moaned. "What was Megan thinking of, to have a child with a black man?"
"She was always wild," Great-uncle Richard complained. "I warned your sister every time I set eyes on her that they were being too lenient, but that's the way Americans bring up their children," he lectured, "far too liberally. Once you surrender order, decorum, a sense of place and heritage, you . ."
"Start pretending you're someone else?" I asked pointedly. "Participate in little illusions and games?"
He turned a little crimson, but held his posture and his gaze.
"There's no point in talking about it any further. We'll be leaving on the eight o'clock flight tonight. Get your things together. That's all I want to say about this right now," he added to tightly shut down the conversation.
"You don't want me to serve you dinner?" I asked, my voice thick with sarcasm.
"Hardly," he said.
"I don't want to eat anything," Great-aunt Leonora muttered. "My sister is gone. I have no family left," she wailed and rocked herself in her seat.
"You have two nieces and a great-niece and nephew," her husband reminded her.
"Two great-nieces," I said.
She looked at me. The whole thing was finally settling into her mind and she didn't know what to say or what to feel. Finally, I thought, someone would know what I endured.
"What an incredible disaster," Great-uncle Richard muttered as he stood up. "What's that saying Americans love? You can choose your friends but not your relatives?"
"Exactly how I feel too," I said and walked out first, heading for my room and my private time to mourn Grandmother Hudson. Somehow, I knew when I had waved good-bye to her that day I left for England that I was waving goodbye forever. I think she knew it too. I think that was why there were tears in her eyes. She was too confident about herself and her future to cry at partings. She was that sad only because she knew she would never see me again.
I didn't have to call the school to ask Mr. MacWaine to meet Roy. As soon as I didn't appear, he went looking for me and found Mr. MacWaine himself and learned the news. Immediately thereafter, he appeared at the Endfields' doorway. I had completed my packing when I heard Leo's distinctive limp resounding in the hallway.
"Your brother is here," he told me when I peered out my door.