The woman seemed to accept that as a reasonable explanation because she nodded and opened the door wider. She stepped aside then jerked her chin toward them. “You may come in and have a seat while I speak to the doctor. He got up early today and he may be tired. I will check if he can see you.”
Even when they were seated in the dimly-lit sitting room, Suave didn’t look any more relaxed. She kept wringing the strap of her bag till the poor thing looked like it would snap from the abuse. “What if he’s asleep?” she asked in a breathless whisper. “What if they say we have to come back tomorrow? We’re already booked on the first flight out tomorrow.”
“Don’t worry about it,” Silken said, trying to reassure her sister. “If we have to come back we’ll just get another ticket and head out day after tomorrow.”
“But our tickets are non-refundable. Our budget…”
“Shh. I told you, don’t worry about it. The doctor will see us. I’m sure of it.” That was what she said, but Silken wasn’t half as sure as she sounded. But she’d just leave Suave in the dark on that one.
Two minutes later Mrs. Detlef was back in the sitting room beckoning to them to follow her. “You must speak very quietly,” she said, “and don’t say anything that could upset him. He must avoid any kind of stress."
Suave nodded but then she turned worried eyes on Silken, her question obvious. How would he handle their request?
When they got to the room Mrs. Detlef opened the door quietly, waving them in, then closed it gently behind them. They were in a cozy room with colorful rugs on the floor and although the evening was warm a space heater was on, placed close to the bed which stood in the center of the room. And in the bed lay a figure, so still and white, it looked like he was dead.
Silken looked across at Suave then slowly, almost creeping, she began to cross the room. When she got to the bed she looked down and that was when she realized that the man’s eyes were wide open and he was staring back at her.
“G…good afternoon, sir,” she said, feeling her face redden. Had he seen her creeping toward him? She must have looked so stupid. “Thank you for agreeing to see us.”
“Yes, we really appreciate it.” Suave was beside her now, nodding her head as if to convince the man of their great appreciation.
Doctor Pintero was old and wrinkled and as shriveled as a prune but his black eyes were sharp as lances as they moved from one face to the other. “Twins,” he said, his voice a hoarse whisper. “Black-haired twins.”
Silken’s heart jerked. What did he mean? Did he actually remember them? Their birth?
“Yes,” she whispered, trying to contain her excitement. “Do you remember us? Silken and Suave McCullen. University of Wisconsin Hospital.”
The doctor drew in a deep breath and closed his eyes. Then he expelled it in a long, slow sigh.
Silken’s eyes widened as she stared down at the man’s ashen face. Had she shocked him with her outburst, even though it was a whispered one? Had she put him under the stress the housekeeper had warned her about, under penalty of being thrown out the door?
But then the doctor opened his eyes again and she could see the exhaustion nestled there.
He must be really sick for a simple statement to tire him out that much.
“Yes, I remember,” he said finally. “What do you want?”
“Doctor,” Suave said, stepping closer to the bed. “We want to know our mother. Can you help us?”
His eyes swung to Suave and a frown settled on his wizened face. “That was not her wish.” His voice was only a whisper but there was no mistaking the firmness in it. “You must not…try to find her.” Then he broke into a hacking cough that shook his body and made Suave grab for the glass of water on his nightstand. Gently, she slid her arm behind his shoulders and raised him up then put the glass to his lips.
He took two sips then, the coughing over, he sank back into the pillows. “Thank you,” he croaked, even as his chest heaved and he looked like he was gasping for air.
For a moment both Silken and Suave remained silent, watching him. Then Silken decided to take the chance and speak again. “We have to find our mother,” she said, keeping her tone as emotionless as she could. “We can’t live like this, not knowing who she is. Please understand.”
“I understand,” he said, and Silken could see in his eyes that he did. “But she said you must never know. It was…her decision.”
Silken felt like he’d just stabbed her in the heart. You must never know…the stricken look on Suave’s face told Silken that the words had hurt her sister as much as they’d hurt her.
“But you have to tell us.” Suave looked like she was about to cry. “You must.”
The man drew in a breath and let it out slowly. On his face was a look of deep regret. “I swore,” he began, then cleared his throat. “I swore I would never let her name be known even if…even if you came looking for me.”
“Then why did you let us come all this way,” Silken could not keep the bitterness out of her voice, “if you knew you weren’t going to tell?”
The man shook his head as he lay there on the pillows, looking from one woman to the other, then his gaze focused on Silken. “I wanted you to know, to understand,” he said. “There were circumstances.” He dropped his gaze. Then, as if he suddenly felt cold, he clutched the sheet and pulled it up under his chin. “Your mother…she wished to…put this behind her. Try to…understand.”
“So you’re not going to tell us?” The room suddenly felt hot and Silken felt like she was stifling.
“No.” His face resolute, he stared at them for a moment longer and then closed his eyes.
Well, that was that. He wasn’t going to talk and there was nothing she or Suave could do about it.
She turned away from the bed and made a step toward the door. “Come on,” she said to Suave. “We’re wasting our time here.”
“But Silken…” Suave looked from the old man to her then back again.