Every Happy Family Read Online Free PDF Page B

backbeat of Quinn’s woofer through the floor and tries to recall if she heard Quinn’s girlfriend leave. She hands Les the unfolded letter but holds onto the envelope.

    Dear Mr. and Mrs. Wright:
    I am write to tell you that I thankful for you care for my daughter, Pema. I know she is take good care of and happy to be at Canada. I was very bad situation when I gave Pema away for you. Now I am good situation. I have new husband, also two sister for Pema. Kitsi is eleven, Maitri is four. Refuge village Jampaling very nice. Good job for my husband and I make money with sewing chuba. I miss my first daughter very much. I like to see her and ask that she come Nepal for visit to Jampaling. I will take very good care. I hope hear from you. Picture of Pema would make me very very happy.
    Thank you. Datso Tsering

    â€œWhen did you get this?” he asks, looking at the envelope in her hands.
    There was to be no contact. It was right there in the contract. Jill reaches for the letter but Les pulls it closer to his chest, rereading it.
    â€œMaybe she couldn’t make out the fine print,” he says, ignoring her extended hand. “I know I would have been pretty stoked if my birth mother wrote me a letter like that.”
    She knew he’d say that. Just knew it. Finally he hands over the letter and, mouth set, she folds it, gets up and walks across the room to the dresser.
    â€œMust have taken a lot of courage to write this,” he continues.
    Courage? She’s never wanted to think of Pema’s birth mother as possessing any qualities whatsoever. In those early years, it perversely comforted Jill to imagine the woman being desperately poor and uneducated, if not mute and thought-free, but never did she dare think courageous.
    â€œImagine giving away your three-year-old.”
    She couldn’t imagine it then and still can’t. She can’t even try.
    â€œAnd not burying that memory in the deepest of holes. I think that takes a lot of courage.”
    It’s love, thinks Jill. Love that made Datso give Pema up in hopes of a better life, and love that makes her want her back. But I love her too.
    â€œPema’s too young,” she says, and from this safer distance turns to face him. “It would be utterly confusing. When she’s eighteen and an adult, she can go to Nepal or Tibet or wherever she wants. It’ll be hard enough then.” She slips the letter back into the envelope, imagines taking a lighter to it. “To show this to her now” – she scoffs and waves it in the air – “would confuse the hell out of her.”
    Les remains his imperturbable self. An annoying trait she’s always attributed to his being raised an only child by two staid older parents. They would discuss the purchase of a new pair of shoes for days.
    Jill needs to explain further. “She’s fourteen, a hormone soup. She dyes her hair every other week, because she doesn’t know who or what she is.”
    â€œI didn’t say we should show it to her right away,” he says, treading lightly. “But I’m also not sure about waiting four years.”
    â€œYou’ve waited forty-seven.”
    In his infinite patience, Les lets the comment slide and her harshness bounce back on her. It was a low blow and she hates herself for it, but can’t apologize.
    â€œAnnie thinks they found her by the way.”
    She resents the weightless optimism in his tone.
    â€œAnnie always thinks they found her,” she says. “Don’t tell Annie about this, please, whatever you do. It would take about ten seconds before Pema got wind.”
    Behind her, Les sighs. “I love Pema too, you know.”
    Jill grits her teeth.
    â€œLet’s at least send the poor woman a picture of her daughter,” he says.
    Jill opens the drawer and tucks the letter inside. With her back turned, she closes her eyes and evens her tone to match his. “I’ve just lost