Her Name Was Annie by Beth Rinyu (books for 9th graders TXT) 📗

I must insist you try one of our famous cappuccinos and a chocolate croissant. Just ask Steph, they’re the best around.”

“The cappuccino sounds lovely, but I’ll pass on the croissant.”

“And what about for you, Steph? Your usual?”

“Actually, I’ll just have an Earl Grey tea, please,” I replied.

“You got it!” Rita said as she walked away from the table, leaving me alone once again with the woman I had so many questions for, but not the courage to ask them.

“So, I know you probably have a lot you want to know, and I’m willing to tell you everything.” Francesca started as if she could read my mind. “Some of it may not be easy for me to say or for you to hear, but I didn’t come all this way to leave anything out.”

I nodded. “I’m sorry. This is just all so weird to me. Forgive me if I seem a little reserved.”

“I understand perfectly. But can I ask you a question I’ve been wanting to know all these years?”

“Sure,” I whispered.

“Did you have a happy childhood?”

That was a question I could answer without hesitation, and one that temporarily put my mind at ease. “I did. It was the best childhood anyone could ask for. My parents were wonderful.”

She closed her eyes and smiled. “That makes me happy to hear. And your daughter? Jennifer told me she’s twenty-one.”

“She is.” I reached into my purse and grabbed my phone, then scrolled through my photos for a picture of Kara. Like my childhood, Kara was another topic of conversation I was contented to talk about. “This is her.” I realized after I had placed the phone in her view, the first picture I had scrolled to was one of Kara and Jack taken on Thanksgiving. Kara was a subject I was comfortable talking about—Jack not so much.

She put on her glasses and pulled the phone closer, studying the photo. “She is stunning, and there’s no denying that’s her dad. She looks just like him.”

“Yes, that’s Jack.” I cleared my throat. “My ex-husband.”

“She’s a beautiful girl. You’ve been blessed.” She handed my phone to me, and her eyes dewed up once again. Thankfully Rita came over with our drinks just in time, breaking up any awkwardness.

“Here you go, ladies, let me know if there’s anything else I can get you,” Rita said after placing the drinks on the table, then walked away.

“I’m ready to answer whatever questions you have for me,” Francesca said, taking a sip of her cappuccino.

There were so many, I didn’t know where to begin. I wanted to know what the circumstances were that had led her to putting me up for adoption. I wanted to know how she had found me. I wanted to know about her family and possibly about my biological father’s family. They were all questions I could have shot off at her one after another, but I wasn’t going to do that. It was her story to tell, and I wanted her to tell it in the way she felt most comfortable doing. “Why don’t you just start from the beginning, and if I have any questions after that, I’ll ask them.”

Her hand trembled as she placed her coffee cup down on the table. She said it was going to be hard to tell as well as hard to listen to, but I was prepared to hear whatever it was she was willing to say.

Chapter 22

Francesca

March 1971

DEAR FRANKIE,

I haven’t even gotten to the worst part yet, and I already can’t wait to get out of here and come home. I’m finally done with my training and our sergeant says we’ll be shipping out in a week. I promise you, I will come back safely, so we can be together forever. I know that’s the one thing that will keep me going when the days get bad. I don’t care what our parents say, we will be married. I love you more than anything in this entire world and this time apart has made me realize that fact even more. I don’t know when I’ll be able to write again, so please keep this letter with you and remember, I’m thinking of you always.

Love forever,

Tommy

I memorized every single word in that letter, right down to the curve in his Ss and the way his Ms resembled Ns. Tommy Cavlan was the love of my life, and even though I was only seventeen, I knew there would never be anyone else who would come close to him. Our hearts didn’t care that our upbringings placed us worlds apart. My strict Italian family didn’t approve of him because he wasn’t Italian and, even worse, he wasn’t a Catholic. His powerful political family turned their noses up at me because I was Italian and Catholic.

Then there was the age factor—I had just turned seventeen and Tommy had just turned twenty. My papa was twelve years older than my mama. I so wanted to tell them they were being hypocrites when they’d throw Tommy’s age into the mix among their hundreds of other reasons why I was forbidden to see him, but I didn’t dare. They’d say he was a bad influence on me because I had begun to take on his viewpoints. Tommy was into making the world a better place by fighting for peace. That all changed when he was drafted into a war he so vehemently opposed. A war his well-connected father tried to keep him out of. His younger brother, Dominick, jumped at the chance of using his father’s power to keep him safe. Tommy, being the noble guy he was, refused to allow his father’s political hacks to keep him from going to a place that so many other young men had been summoned to.

I was so angry at him for leaving me. The four months since I had last seen him seemed like an eternity. I remembered sitting on the beach with him on his last night before he shipped out to boot camp.