Dahlia and Gertie

Wendy stood on the back porch surveying the frosty landscape. The days were getting warmer now, late February in Western Washington, but winter wasn’t quite ready to give spring the upper hand. She buttoned up her fleece jacket, already feeling the stretch over her slightly expanding belly. “Hey there little one, let’s go out and check on Dahlia and Gertie.” She knew the cows were fine, but she just loved being in the barn. It was her place of solace, where she destressed. It had always been her refuge since she was a little girl. As she stepped off the porch, she heard the screech of a barn owl – a sound she’d known her whole life. Wendy’s mother had died when she was only three and her grandparents had raised her, right here on this farm. Her grandfather was a veterinarian, a real country vet. He had a small clinic on the farm, but he most often drove out to neighboring farms to care for the myriad of critters that could be found throughout the countryside of Carnation, Washington. He frequently took Wendy along, and she was sure she was going to grow up and be a vet, just like her papa. She smiled as the memories flitted through her mind like a silent film. She remembered the first time she watched a calf being born and when her grandfather let her rescue and bottle feed an abandoned baby squirrel. She remembered holding her breath as her grandpa vigorously rubbed down a newborn foal until it finally took its first breath, the mother horse neighing urgently and pacing back and forth. Knowing she was soon going to bring new life into the world seemed to bring a new poignancy to these memories.

As Wendy slid open the barn door, the familiar, earthy smells of cows, hay, manure, and wood chips reached her senses. She breathed deep and exhaled slowly. Squatty, the dachshund, trotted in next to her. He had adjusted quite well to the dramatic change in his surroundings, from city dog to country mutt. “Hello ladies,” Wendy said out loud as she rubbed the creamy white foreheads of Dahlia and Gertie. They were the last of a small dairy herd that her grandparents had kept. Wendy remembered the spring they were born, and how she was given the task of naming all the calves. These two had become her favorites and when her grandpa had decided to sell off the herd, she had begged to keep Dahlia and Gertie. She smiled to herself thinking about what a softie her grandpa had been. In recent years, before her grandma also passed, she hadn’t been able to visit as often, but she always made time to pamper her girls when she came. Wendy pulled a bag of apple slices from her pocket and gave them each some. She heard the screech of another barn owl and glanced up at the loft. She wondered if the owls would nest up there again this year. She thought of her feather collection and marveled that it was still in her old room. That made her think of all the work that lay ahead in the house to get things upgraded and ready for a baby. “I think they call that ‘nesting’ too,” she said to the cows. With a little sigh, and a shiver of cold, she said, “Come on, Squatty, let’s go see what Blake’s cooking up in the kitchen.”

Blake and Wendy had been married for nine years. They met just after college as they were both starting their careers at Microsoft. Blake had grown up on a vineyard near Walla Walla. While both had experienced a bucolic upbringing, Blake had a big family with five brothers and sisters. Being the oldest, his family thought he would study the wine making business, but he was a total computer geek and had his sights set on a career in technology from a young age. “Besides,” he said, “my sister loves the business of viticulture. She will do great things with the vineyard.” In contrast, Wendy was an only child and while she had been sure she would follow her grandfather into veterinary medicine, she ended up in the Neurodiversity Hiring Program at Microsoft. They had started their married life in an apartment in Redmond and it was good. They were young and in love and climbing up the proverbial ladder. Both had advanced their careers and recently were looking at purchasing a home in one of the more affluent suburbs of Bellevue. Then Wendy’s grandmother had passed and left the farm to her. She knew, of course, that she would inherit everything from her grandparents, but didn’t expect it to happen so soon. I guess you never do, she pondered. At first, Wendy had thought they would just sell it, but that really tugged at her heart. When she had found out she was pregnant – another unforeseen occurrence – something shifted inside her. Neither she nor Blake were certain of how to go forward. Did they really want to raise a child in the fast-paced life of a high-tech city? Equally, was farm life a little too isolated, a little too rural? Wendy felt conflicted, because as much as she had loved her childhood, she had also felt lonely at times. Her grandparents could be a little overprotective, she thought, but even so, there was a peace and a wholeness that she only felt on the farm.

In the end, they decided why not give it a try? It wasn’t like they were moving to the far reaches of the state. Carnation was about a 40-minute drive from the Microsoft campus in Redmond and Blake rarely had to go there anymore, working almost entirely from home. Wendy had decided to take a leave of absence and wasn’t sure if she would go back after the baby or not. The money they had saved for a down payment on a house was plenty to do all the remodeling and upgrading and now they wouldn’t have mortgage payment. It was all a little terrifying, these big changes, but exciting too.

Wendy shrugged out of her jacket as she came into the warm kitchen.

“Hmm, smells delicious! What are you making?”

“Oh, just seafood chowder. You know, some hearty soup on a cold night,” said Blake.

“Sounds perfect.”

Both she and Blake liked to cook, and the kitchen was first on the list for a makeover, after a nursery, of course.

“How are the old ladies,” Blake asked? “Happily chewing their cuds?”

Wendy smiled. “Yes, they’re fat and happy, kind of like me.”

After dinner they spent some time looking at counter samples and talking about appliances. It wasn’t long before Wendy began to yawn.

“You look tired, honey,” Blake said. “What time is your ultrasound appointment?”

“Ya, I think I’ll go to bed and read for a while. We have to be at the office at 9:15”

When Blake came up an hour later, Wendy was sound asleep, book resting on her chest. As her tummy had started to round, it had really hit him how much their lives had changed in the last few months. He hoped he could rise to the occasion as a father. He certainly had a good example to follow in his own dad and, although he hadn’t known him nearly as long, he had loved Wendy’s grandpa. It’s too bad, he thought, that her grandparents wouldn’t be here to meet their great grandchild and even more sad that Wendy’s mom wasn’t here. He suddenly felt very grateful for his family, both the one he was raised in and the new one he and Wendy were creating.

Wendy was up before dawn and pulled on some stretchy leggings and a cozy knit top. She was excited and nervous about the ultrasound. It wasn’t a scary procedure, and it wasn’t like she didn’t know that she was pregnant, but she was sure seeing an actual image of her baby was going to make it that much more real.

When she came into the kitchen, Blake was leaning on the counter with a steaming cup of coffee. “Oh, that smells so good,” Wendy whimpered. “Let me just smell it,” she said, closing her eyes and inhaling the aroma.

“Sorry, honey. After you have the baby, I’ll buy you a fabulous espresso machine and make you cappuccinos every morning.”

Wendy smiled at her husband and said, “I’m going to hold you to that.”

In the exam room, Wendy felt a little giddy as she laid back on the table. A short, dark-haired woman with a kind face came into the room. “Hi,” she said, “I’m Carol and I’ll be doing your ultrasound today.” “So how many weeks do you think you are?”

“About eleven,” said Wendy.

“And is this your first ultrasound?”

“Yes, we’ve had a lot going on and, honestly, I wasn’t expecting to get pregnant and…...,” Wendy’s voice trailed off.

Carol gave her a warm smile. “I’m sure everything will be fine. Shall we get started?”

As Carol began to move the transducer around her abdomen, Wendy turned to smile at Blake, and he took her hand.

“So, have you two been together long,” asked Carol?

“Nine years,” said Blake, as he watched the indecipherable images move around the screen.

It was quiet for a while and Wendy wondered if Carol was questioning if they really wanted this baby. After all, people who want children usually don’t wait nearly a decade to start a family. She didn’t want her to have the wrong impression, they were happy, just caught a little off guard.

“We have been so busy with our careers,” said Wendy. “And then my grandma passed, and we inherited their farm and decided to move to the country. We just weren’t expecting to be pregnant right now, but we’re excited.”

Carol turned to face them. Wendy could not read the expression on her face. After a moment, Carol said with a wry smile, “I’m glad you’re excited, because you are having twins.”

“Twins,” they said in unison!

Blake and Wendy looked at each other in astonishment, then back at Carol who turned the screen and pointed out the two little kidney bean shapes.

“Aren’t twins hereditary,” asked Blake, then immediately regretted the question. Wendy probably didn’t know if there were twins in her family.

“Twins can run in families,” said Carol, “but identical twins can take place in any pregnancy and the occurrence of twins in general is increasing.”

Turning to Wendy, she asked, “Have you had any morning sickness?”

“No, I’ve felt fine.”

“Good. It’s very important that you are eating well and getting plenty of protein. I’ve got some things for you to read, and I want you to make a follow up with Dr. Harlow right away. And get plenty of rest, Wendy, you and your babies need it.”

They were both feeling kind of dazed as they headed back to their car. Wow, there was a lot that was going to change, he contemplated. Wendy’s mind was going in circles too, but mostly she was thinking about whether twins ran in her family. She had no idea – had never given this kind of thing a single thought. She really didn’t know much of anything about her ancestry. Why hadn’t she asked more questions?

“Well, I wasn’t expecting that,” Blake said as they pulled out of the parking lot. “I’m sorry about the twins being hereditary question. I don’t know what I was thinking.”

“No, it’s fine. I mean, like she said, they might be identical twins, but it does make me curious. I wish I knew more about my lineage. I guess when you’re young you just don’t think about this kind of stuff, you know, and we all think our parents will live forever. Or in my case, my grandparents, but……, holy cow – twins!”

Wendy suddenly started to laugh, then laugh and cry at the same time. “We’re having twins, Blakey! Two for the price of one! You know how you love a bargain!”

Blake was laughing and shaking his head. “I’m a little scared, but a lot excited. My mom is going to freak.”

“Let’s call her,” Wendy said, as she grabbed her phone and dialed on speaker.

That night, like every night, Wendy went out to see Dahlia and Gertie and bring them a treat. “Well girls, guess what? Something pretty amazing is going to happen – twins! You two are going to have to stick around a bit longer because I want my children to know you.” She patted their soft heads and thought how glad she was that her and Blake had decided to move to the farm. She hoped she could give her children as happy of a childhood as hers had been. It seemed like a crazy notion, really, considering how tragic her early years were, but she had never felt anything but love and contentment growing up as she did. Of course, she thought about her mother, and wished she could have known her, but she had no memory of her. You really can’t miss someone you don’t remember. You just miss the idea of them. Who she missed, especially right now, were her grandparents. She didn’t know if twins ran in her family, but she knew compassion, nurturing and sacrifice did. That, she decided, is what really mattered.

Just as she stepped out of the barn, an owl glided silently across the yard, followed closely by another. A pair, she thought. There would be baby owls in the loft again this spring.

The next morning Wendy decided to get started on clearing out the nursery. She and Blake had decided to change their plans on which bedroom to convert, wanting to now use the larger one. Two of everything was going to require more space. Unfortunately, this had been the room that they had piled everything in – both theirs and her grandparent’s - that they didn’t quite know what to do with yet. A mountain of boxes was stacked against one wall that she imagined were mostly filled with old paperwork that could be thrown away, but there were probably some important documents concerning the house and the farm. What else she might find, she didn’t know, but there was only one way to find out. She started by clearing off her grandpa’s old desk, so she had a workspace. The first box she opened was full of recipes, mostly written on little recipe cards. Oh lord, she thought, I know we’ll never use these, but it seemed sacrilegious to throw them away. In the end, she lined up the ones that she remembered or that sounded good and photographed them, then put them all in a bin for recycling. The next box was filled with old newspapers. On the top was the Snoqualmie Valley Record from April of 1972. Wendy opened it up, looking for something that would have made her grandparents save this particular issue. She found it on the third page - Local Veterinary to Start Raising White Park Cattle. The article talked about the British origins of the breed and how they were brought to Canada after World War II and eventually to the states, where there were only a few herds in Washington and Texas. “So that’s how you got here, Dahlia and Gertie,” thought Wendy. In another paper there was a picture of her mother as a cheerleader in high school. She didn’t even know that her mom had been a cheerleader. She looked so happy and full of life. For the first time, she thought of how devastated her grandparents must have been at the loss of their only child. They never let her see their sorrow, which must have taken a lot of courage.

Wendy continued to plow through boxes of papers, books, and knick-knacks until her stomach growled and she realized she hadn’t eaten. “Oops,” she thought, “I better feed you guys, huh?”

When she walked into the kitchen, Blake was already putting together pastrami sandwiches. “Hey,” he said, “I was just going to bring you some lunch.”

“Thank you, I’m starving.”

“How’s it going in there?” “I’m done with my work, so after we eat, I can help you.”

“Good, I’m feeling a little overwhelmed.”

By the end of the week the room was almost empty. Her grandpa’s desk was still there - Blake was waiting for a friend who had sufficient muscles and a truck to help him move the cumbersome thing. There was also a wooden box that was locked, but Wendy had yet to find a key that worked, so she put it in the closet of their make-shift office. Blake had taken all the boxes with photos to the living room so Wendy could go through them a few at a time in the evenings. Wendy surveyed the room and tried to picture how she would arrange two cribs, dressers, and a rocking chair, but first they needed to redo the flooring and paint the walls. There was still so much to be done, but right now she was too tired. She decided it was a good time to snuggle up on the couch and look at some of the old photos. It would have been a good plan, anyway, if she hadn’t fallen asleep in less than ten minutes, Squatty curled up next to her.

The next few days she spent pouring over Pinterest for nursery ideas and trying to compile a list of everything they were going to need. It struck her when she started looking at car seats that they were going to have to get a bigger car. Wendy felt a twinge of sadness at that. She loved her Mini Cooper, but that clearly was not going to work. It was a good thing that they had been good savers because the list was getting long.

In the evenings she started going through the copious amounts of photos and tried to separate them into at least decades. Thankfully most of the oldest photos were in albums and had names and dates. She put all of those in a separate box thinking some day she would try to decipher it all. She also put aside a favorite photo of both of her grandparents to have enlarged and framed. Hopefully she could find one of her mother as well. She didn’t have much of a lineage, but you have to start somewhere, and she wanted to make a space for a family photo wall.

One of the piles on the coffee table were photos of her when she was a baby. There weren’t very many of them under the age of around three, before she came to live with her grandparents. She found a couple of her mom holding her, but they weren’t very clear. She started to thumb through another pile when a photo caught her eye. It was her mother, again holding her, but next to her was a man holding a little boy. The children looked to be about the same age. Who was that man, she thought? They looked like a happy couple. Was it a boyfriend? Was it her dad? Her grandmother had told her that her dad was never around and that all she knew was that his name was Tyler. Did her mom meet someone else? Someone with a little boy? Weird, she thought. Then she noticed the wedding band on her mom’s finger. Really weird, she thought, and put the photo in a separate pile. By the time she had gone through the last box of photos, she had found several other photos that appeared to have the same unidentified man in them, sometimes with her mom, sometimes in the background, and a few more with the little boy and her. Wendy put each pile of photos in the storage boxes she had purchased and labeled them. She set aside the ones she wanted to enlarge and then looked again at the small stack of mysterious ones. “Grandma, what have you not told me,” Wendy whispered?

As the weeks passed, Wendy’s stomach grew, and she felt more and more urgency to have everything ready when the time came for the baby’s arrival. She decided to do a thorough spring cleaning while she could still move fairly well. She started in the kitchen, cleaning the cupboards inside and out. When she emptied the proverbial ‘junk’ drawer to wipe it down, she found a funny looking key and wondered if it fit the wooden box. She had forgotten about the box, but now she went and got it. To her surprise, the key slid right in and turned. When she lifted the lid there was an envelope with her name on it. That was strange, she thought, what on earth was this. Inside the envelope was a letter from her grandmother.

My sweet Wendy, I meant to give you the contents of this box a thousand times, but I never could bring myself to do it, to ruin your happiness. I guess part of me hopes you never find it, but another part of me feels you deserve to know. You were such a happy child, despite all you had gone through, and I so wanted you to have that joyful innocence. It seemed like you didn’t remember any of what happened and I couldn’t comprehend what it would do to you to bring all of those tragic events back into your life. Forgive me, Wendy. Forgive me for not telling you and forgive me for what you are about to discover. You must know these two things – your grandpa and I loved you with every part of our hearts. And we loved your brother, too. We tried so hard to find him. We never quit searching. I can only pray that whoever took him was good to him or that he is safe in heaven with your beautiful mother. She loved you both so much, Wendy. Sadly, even though we begged her to reconsider, she married a man, your father, who was unstable and abusive. We didn’t really know how abusive he was until it was too late. You have no idea what a relief it was when you married Blake and we knew you had made such a good choice. As far as your father, we do not know what happened to him. Maybe by the time you read this, he will be in prison somewhere, but I do not know if he is even alive. You were the light of our lives, Wendy, and I pray you will stay strong as you read what’s in this box. We love you and we will always be watching over you. Grandma

Wendy read the letter again. “My brother?” She got up and grabbed the pile of mysterious photos. She stared at them, at the little boy and herself, and then it hit her – she was a twin! That was her twin brother! “Oh my god,” she thought, “what happened!” Wendy lifted a newspaper out of the box and there it was in big bold letters. Man Kills Wife in Fit of Rage, Boy Missing. Wendy’s hand shook as she read the article which told of a night of horror and chaos which had ended her mother’s life. Neighbors had heard the screams and called police, but by the time they arrived, her mother lay lifeless, near the open front door, here skull bashed in. They concluded that she was trying to get out and run for help and he had come at her with a bat, which was lying next to her. They evidently found Wendy still sleeping in her bed, somehow oblivious to the noise, but her brother’s bed was empty. They quickly searched the neighborhood, thinking maybe he had wandered out the open door and was lost. Several people had seen someone fitting her father’s description running through back yards and swore he did not have a child with him. There were several follow up articles saying that, despite a nationwide search, neither the suspect nor the child had been found. One of them stated that the little girl was now in the custody of her grandparents who had hired a private detective to find their grandson but had no leads as yet.

At the bottom of the box was a little blue hat and birth certificate for Kyle Jonathan, born on the same day as her. Wendy burst into tears. She was so shocked and so horrified that by the time Blake ran into the kitchen she was sobbing and shaking uncontrollably. Blake glanced at all the stuff on the table and then wrapped his arms around her. “Honey, what’s wrong!” Wendy couldn’t speak and he just held her and let her cry. Eventually she stood, grabbed her coat without saying a word, and went out the door. Blake knew she needed to go see her cows. She needed some time in her beloved barn.

Blake looked at the array of papers on the table and winced when he saw the headline. He scanned the article and then saw the birth certificate. He was confused and not putting the pieces together. Then he saw the letter and began to read. When it finally made sense, his heart broke for Wendy.

Blake went out to the barn and simple stood by his wife. Finally, he quietly said, “Wendy, I am so sorry. I’m in shock, so I can’t imagine what you’re feeling.” “You didn’t know any of that?”

“No,” she whispered, “no.”

Wendy went through the following days in a fog of emotion. She went over and over every detail in the newspaper articles and in her grandmother’s letter. She questioned all of it. Why had her grandparents not been honest? Was it really right to withhold the truth from her? Was ignorance bliss? In her case it had been, but now she was shattered. How on earth did she not have any memory of what happened? She was only three at the time, but still. How did she not remember she once had a brother, not know that she was a twin? Wasn’t there a sixth sense between twins that she should have felt? Could he possible still be alive?

Eventually she locked everything back in the box and put it on a shelf. There was so much to get accomplished before her own babies arrived and she was starting to feel the stress of constantly dwelling on the “what ifs.” She had to put everything else aside right now, but she couldn’t stop thinking about her brother.

“Blake,” she said one evening, “what do you think about me taking a DNA test on one of those ancestry sites?” “I know the chances are very slim, but what if my brother is out there somewhere?”

“I think it doesn’t hurt to try. You just have to be careful not to expect too much, but you never know. Of course, you could also find your father, and I don’t know if you want that.”

“No, I don’t, but I don’t think I will ever have peace if I don’t try.”

Blake nodded. “I’ll do the research and see which one is best and how it works.”

On August 25th, at 7:15am, Wendy gave birth to healthy twins, a boy and a girl, Jonathan Kyle and Emma Elizabeth. Her heart was bursting with joy as tears ran down her cheeks. Blake was over the moon, as was his whole family. She felt a little twinge of sadness that none of her family was there, but quickly pushed it aside. Her family was here, her husband and her children. She couldn’t wait to bring them home and introduce them to Dahlia and Gertie. She wanted to teach them all about the farm and the animals. She wanted them to love the smell of hay and recognize the screech of the barn owls. She wanted them to always feel safe, loved and secure as she had, against all odds. It had been nearly five months since she had submitted her DNA and all her contact information, but she hadn’t heard a thing. “Brother,” she whispered, “if you’re out there, I hope I find you someday, but if you’re not, watch over us, especially your little niece and nephew.”

Epilogue

The May sunshine was filtering through the cracks in the old barn. Emma and Jonathan were jumping off a bale of hay, peals of three-year-old laughter filling the air. Up in the loft baby owls were hissing and fussing at their parents to bring them more to eat. Wendy was feeding carrots to the two new calves she and Blake had bought. Dahlia and Gertie had moved on to the green pastures in the sky, but they had hung on long enough to meet the twins. Squatty was still around, following the twins wherever they went. Wendy’s phone buzzed and she stepped away from the noisy giggling to answer it.

“Hello.”

There was a bit of a pause and then a low voice said, “Wendy?”

“Yes, this is Wendy.”

Another pause, and then a shaky breath, “Wendy, this is Kyle.”