Reborn

2

"Oh, my God!"

It was Carol's voice. Jim rushed into the downstairs library.

"What's wrong?"

She was sitting in a dark green wing chair that dwarfed her. But then, Hanley's downstairs library, with its high ceiling and rows and stacks of books that seemed to go on endlessly, tended to dwarf everyone.

"Take a look at this!" she said, pointing to the open book on her lap.

Jim knelt beside her. The book was obviously a college yearbook. He stared at the black-and-white photo under Carol's fingertip. It showed a dark-haired fellow with an old-fashioned center-parted haircut, intense eyes, a square jaw, and slightly protruding ears. Below the picture was a name:

RODERICK C. HANLEY

It was the first time Jim had ever seen a photo of Hanley as a young man. Other than that…

"So?"

"You don't see it?"

"See what?"

"Trim your hair, lop off those big sideburns, and that's you!"

"Get off!"

Carol took out her wallet and pulled a photo from it. This one was in color, a miniature of one that hung in their bedroom: their wedding portrait. She put it next to the old Hanley photo.

Jim gaped. The resemblance was astonishing.

"We could be twins! I wonder if he played football?" And if he did, I wonder if he enjoyed breaking arms and legs on the other team?

"Doesn't mention it here."

"So he probably didn't."

"Well," Carol said, "we still don't know who your mother was, but from this it looks like you're all Hanley. If there was ever any doubt that you sprang from his loins, as it were, let them now be forever put to rest."

"Far out!" said a third voice.

Jim looked up to see Gerry Becker leaning over the wing on the other side of the chair. He bit his tongue. Becker had hung around the mansion all day yesterday and had showed up this morning shortly after Jim had arrived with Carol. He wanted to tell him to take a hike, but Gerry said he was doing a "feature" on Jim for the Express and needed lots of background. Jim liked the idea of a feature article. Maybe it would get picked up by the wire services. Maybe his mother would see it and get in touch with him. And maybe, too, the recognition factor might tip some fence-sitting publisher toward buying his new novel.

Who knew? Maybe it would work. But if it meant putting up with Becker on a daily basis, was it worth it? He had practically moved in with them.

"Two peas in a pod, all right," Becker said. "You know, when I was at the Trib—"

"I thought I left you upstairs," Jim said, trying to hide his exasperation.

"You did. But I came down to see what all the excitement was about." He pointed to the yearbook photo. "Hey, you know, if we could get a copy of your yearbook from… where was it?"

"Stony Brook, class of sixty-four."

"Right. Stony Brook. We could put them both side by side in the article. The effect would be groovy. Think you could find Jim's old yearbook, Carol?"

"I'll hunt around when I get home," Carol said.

"Make sure you do, okay? Because I'm going to make this a big article. Really big."

Jim saw her eyes flash at him, silently begging to get this pushy so-and-so out of here. He knew how much she disliked Becker.

"Come on, Gerry. Let's get back to the upstairs library."

"Right on. Don't forget, Carol. I'll check with you tomorrow, okay? Or maybe later on after you guys get home."

"I'll let you know when I find it, Gerry," she said with a smile that looked so forced it would have been far better had she not tried to smile at all.