A Broken Tree Read online

  When Holly came back from staying at Aunt Jean’s house, Mom had just given birth to Carlee. It wasn’t long before the small-town gossip club put the pieces together and assumed that Holly had had to leave town because Brian had gotten her pregnant. Holly was furious when she heard this. She went over to see Brian and told him that if those old gossipmongers were going to talk, then she wanted to give them something to talk about. She put Carlee in her stroller, grabbed Brian, and the three of them walked up and down Main Street in front of the shops where the old gossip queens were working. Oh, Holly loved seeing the looks on their faces! Brian seemed to enjoy it just as much as Holly did.

  Carlee had asked Holly several times over the years if what had been said by the old gossip club was true. She had wanted to know if Brian was really her dad. Holly had remained adamant that she was not Carlee’s mom, and that our mom, Linda, was her real birth mother.

  Poor Carlee carried the burden of not knowing for sure who either of her parents were for many years. Even though Carlee eventually felt confident that Holly had told her the truth about who her mother was, she continued to have doubts about the identity of her biological father. Over the years, she’d heard the three oldest girls say that a man named Peter was actually her dad. Carlee asked them to give her all the facts; they did one better, providing her with a photo of Peter, the man who was supposedly her real father. When Carlee saw the picture, she knew without a doubt that she was Peter’s daughter. She was the spitting image of Peter. But still, she lacked 100 percent indisputable proof, which could only come through DNA testing.

  One day, Carlee and Mom were talking and Carlee came right out and asked Mom if what the older sisters were saying was true. Mom admitted that Peter was her father. She didn’t provide Carlee with any details about how this had happened—only that he was the man who had fathered her.

  With these stories in mind, Carlee finally decided it was time to find out if what she had heard all these years was really the truth. She asked me to provide her with a DNA kit that she could send to Andergene Labs. Her test was going to be different than the others we had sent; we planned to have Jack test her DNA against our mom’s, to see if they shared the same mitochondrial DNA that runs along maternal lines. She wasn’t planning to test to determine if Mark was her father, because she felt the resemblance between her and Peter was so close, it was enough to establish that Mark was not her father. Even so, I convinced her to have it checked against Mark’s DNA profile, just so no one could ever dispute the fact that Mark wasn’t Carlee’s father. That way, we could focus on learning if Peter really was Carlee’s biological father.

  When the tests came back, it showed without a doubt that Mark Anderson was not Carlee’s father, which was no surprise at all. I think the photo of Peter had cinched that one up right from the start.

  The tests also proved that Linda was Carlee’s mother, not our sister Holly. Although Carlee was relieved to know that Linda was her biological mom, I think she may have been a little disappointed. Carlee loved our sister Holly and was always very close to her. Holly was often the one who provided Carlee with her daily care when she was a toddler. In many ways, Carlee felt that Holly was more of a mother to her than Linda was. Nonetheless, if Carlee’s biological mom had been Holly, that would have taken our family story to a whole new level of difficulty, and we definitely did not want to go there. It was already complicated enough.

  So now Carlee had the scientific evidence she had been looking for: Linda was her biological mother, and Mark Anderson, the man who had raised her, was not her biological father. This allowed her to put even more stock in the idea that Peter was her biological father, although, without DNA testing, she can never say with 100 percent assurance that this is the case. But for Carlee, the circumstantial evidence is enough for her to feel comfortable with this conclusion.

  What About Paul?

  At this point, we knew from DNA testing—and, in Neil’s case, a questionable blood match—that Judy, Gloria, Neil, myself, Tim, and Carlee were not fathered by Mark Anderson. So, that left only Holly, Diane, and Paul who had not been tested. Holly had died a few years before, and with Paul’s recent death, our options for testing his DNA were extremely limited. Fortunately, we still had one option left.

  Paul had one biological son, named Mike. To find out whether Paul was biologically related to Mark Anderson, we would have to go through Mike. We knew that the Y chromosome travels exclusively through the male line, so if I could get a sample of Mike’s DNA, it would be a simple matter of comparing it against Mark’s DNA (which we already had on file) to see if Mike’s Y chromosome matched Mark Anderson’s Y chromosome. The only way Mike could get a matching Y chromosome from Mark would be to get it through his father, Paul. With this one simple test at Andergene Labs, we could get our answer.

  The problem was, I would have to tell Mike what had been happening—and that chances were good Mark was not really his grandpa. Mike had been very close to Mark. I worried that learning Mark was not really his biological grandfather could be a traumatic experience for Mike. In addition, some of the older sisters didn’t want word of this spreading to the other grandchildren. What they seemed to be forgetting was that several of them already knew at least some of the details of our story, so I knew that word was going to get around, if it hadn’t already. Nonetheless, because of their concern, I was trying to limit the knowledge to as few of the grandchildren as possible.

  So, what to say to Mike? Although I’d thought of a dozen different ways to explain why I was asking for a sample of his DNA, I knew I didn’t want to lie or be unethical in any way. I felt it was my duty to make sure that whatever I told Mike about my family research, it had to be 100 percent truthful. No lies, no stretching or distorting the truth. Thus, I put off asking Mike for a DNA sample for more than a year. Then one day, I saw that Mike had posted on Facebook that he had nearly escaped death on his motorcycle. After reading what happened, I was reminded that Mike is the only living male descendant for Paul’s line. If we lost him, we would have no one left to test for a Y chromosome match. I knew I couldn’t put this off any longer; I had to call him and tell him what I was up to.

  I called Mike two days later and told him that I needed his help with a very important family project. After I’d explained what I was doing and why I needed some DNA from him, he was more than happy to cooperate. I told him the process was completely painless, and that I would cover the costs. I was quite relieved that he was so willing to help out.

  Then, to my surprise, Mike told me that about a year before his dad died, Paul had told him that he had heard from someone—I’m assuming it was my oldest sister, Holly—that Mark Anderson was not really his dad. He said that it might have been a man by the name of Michael Paul Keller, and that Paul had been named after him. Although I’d already heard this story from Gloria and a few others, I’d wondered if it could have been the older sisters teasing Paul to make him think he had been adopted. But according to Mike, Paul didn’t seem to think these stories were simply a case of his sisters trying to irritate him. He seemed to believe that this could be true. Paul knew at the time that he didn’t have long to live, and had asked Mike to try to find out if there was any merit to the story that Michael Paul Keller really was his biological father.

  Mike didn’t have a clue as to how to get started, nor did he have the money to do the testing. So when I told Mike what I was doing, and that I needed his DNA for testing, he was more than happy to provide me with whatever I needed. Immediately after this call, I sent Mike all the materials he needed to provide me with samples for a couple of different DNA tests. Along with the cheek-swab kits he would need for Andergene Labs, I also sent him an Ancestry

  DNA kit and asked him to provide a sample of his saliva. I wasn’t interested in learning his ethnic makeup, but I did want to see if there was anyone in AncestryDNA’s database who might show up as a match with Mike. If I could find a close match, I could contact that person and see i
f they shared any close family lines with Mike. This could help corroborate our theory about Paul’s biological father.

  Next, I contacted Jack at Andergene Labs. I wanted to see if he would begin testing the cheek swabs that Mike was going to send him within a week or two. I asked if he could use my father’s DNA profile to see if we could establish a valid Y chromosome path from Mark Anderson to my brother Paul to Paul’s son Mike. If Jack could establish this path, then we would know for sure that Mark was definitely Paul’s biological father. If Mike’s Y chromosome did not match Mark’s, then we could safely conclude that Mark was

  not Mike’s grandfather and, by association, conclude that Mark was not Paul’s father. Between the AncestryDNA test and Jack’s test, I figured we would have enough proof, one way or another, to make some valid conclusions.

  A few months after my call to Mike, I got the test results back from AncestryDNA and discovered that while my nephew was related to me and my siblings through our mother’s shared line, he was in no way related to Mark Anderson. This meant that my brother Paul was not the biological child of Mark Anderson. Again, this wasn’t a surprise; I’d expected that this would be the case. We did not find any other connections in AncestryDNA’s database that would help us connect Mike to someone who might be biologically related to Michael Paul Keller.

  This was disappointing, but also not surprising. AncestryDNA’s database is still in the early stages of development, with millions of new names added each year. We will have to wait and see if, sooner or later, someone adds a DNA sample to the database that matches Mike Anderson’s profile. If that happens, I plan on making contact in hopes that we can connect my brother Paul to Michael Paul Keller, his presumed biological father. At least, that’s the plan now; it’s the only option we have left.

  Diane Discovers the Truth

  Diane was the last child in the family to learn about the research that Tim and I were doing. We had put off telling her because we knew that if she found out Mark was not her father, she would have a very hard time coming to terms with it, and as yet, we didn’t have all the answers to the questions she would surely ask us.

  Mom was especially hard on the middle three children, Paul, Diane, and Neil, who were all very strong-willed personalities. Mom could never tolerate anyone pushing back on anything she said, or any decision she made, and Paul, Diane, and Neil would not tolerate her controlling behavior. Confrontations among them almost always turned into terribly explosive events, which only made the situation worse.

  Where Mom could be erratic and tough in her discipline, Dad generally tended to be easygoing in nature. I say generally, because I remember there were times when Dad got tough, and there was hell to pay if someone got Dad’s goat. But oftentimes when Dad got mad, Mom was behind it, telling him not to let us get away with this or that. She could get Dad all riled up, when in reality he just wanted to handle things with a little less raw emotion and force. Because of this, Diane felt a deeper sense of love and appreciation for Dad. We knew learning our family secret was not going to sit well with her.

  Another reason we had decided to wait to tell Diane was because we knew she would have an almost unending stream of questions that we would need to have some answers to. The more answers I could give her, hopefully, the easier it would be for her to come to terms with all that we’d discovered. We still had a lot we needed to figure out, especially regarding her genetic line.

  After I had exhausted all of my research options with the other siblings, I finally decided it was time to tell Diane what was happening. Some of the other siblings didn’t want to share the information they had learned about their biological fathers with Diane; they didn’t want to deal with her questions. I assured everyone that no one was obligated to share personal information if they didn’t want to. While I hoped that each sibling would be willing to share what they knew about their own fathers with the others, I realized this was very personal, and those who didn’t feel comfortable sharing their information certainly had a legitimate point.

  With this in mind, I decided to call Diane and let her know about my own discovery; I wouldn’t say anything about any of the other siblings at this point. I would offer to help Diane discover the truth about her own biological relationship to Dad, and she could do whatever she wanted with the information. I knew she would have lots of questions about the other siblings, but I decided I’d ask her to promise not to tell anyone else what I was about to tell her. I figured if I made her swear an oath of confidence, it might prevent her from calling up the others and referring to our conversation.

  I started my call to Diane with some idle chitchat, then came right out and said I had something extremely personal to tell her. I made her promise not to tell anyone what I was about to share, and once she’d promised, I told her just the basics: how I’d gathered and tested DNA samples from Mom and Dad, along with my own sample; and how I’d learned I was not Mark’s son. I didn’t provide any more information than that.

  It was very quiet on the other end of the line. In fact, the silence was getting uncomfortable. “Oh, Stevie, I’m sorry,” she said finally. “I’m so sorry.”

  That wasn’t quite what I had expected, but I realized she was feeling deeply and genuinely sorry for me. She knew how hard it had been for Neil to learn that Mark was not his father, and how many years he’d carried that burden. Now Diane was seeing the same thing happening to me.

  I let Diane know that I had learned this information about five years ago, and that, for the most part, I was over it now. I shared with her that I hadn’t taken it well initially—in fact, I was a bit ashamed of how poorly I’d handled the initial discovery. Diane went into nurturing mode, telling me that it was okay, that my feelings of shock and anger were only to be expected. We spent the next half hour talking about what all of this meant, and then I explained that after I’d found out, I’d flown home to confront Mom and ask her for details. Diane recalled that she’d thought it odd I came home so unexpectedly; she’d known something was up, but had no clue what it could be. Now she understood what it was all about.

  I told her how I’d asked Mom about the legendary letter, and that she’d denied its existence. Diane wanted to know if Mom was willing to reveal who my biological father was. When I shared that Mom had told me the names of each child’s father, there was an audible gasp from Diane. Of course, she asked me to share this information with her. We went through the list, and I provided the name of the father for each sibling, as they were given to me by Mom, including the fact that Mom identified Mark as the father of three of the nine children. Given what I’d told her about me and my brother Tim, she wasn’t sure whether Mom was telling the truth when she provided the names of our fathers.

  By the end of our conversation, Diane was convinced she wanted to have her DNA tested. I said I would let her know how much the test would cost, and that we’d help her find her biological father, if we discovered that it wasn’t Mark. I was surprised by how well Diane took all of this news. Given her feelings for Mom, I thought she would have been a lot more upset. That’s not to say she didn’t get angry when she learned that Dad might not be her biological father; in fact, after she recovered from her initial shock, she began telling me about some of the terrible emotional abuse Mom had inflicted on her. With each story, her voice became louder and her demeanor noticeably more intense. I realized I needed to end this conversation, as I could hear the rage building up within her by the minute. She was making a heroic effort to control her feelings, but I could see they were getting the best of her.

  I can only imagine what took place after we hung up. Her mind must have been a whirlwind of emotions, just as mine was when I first learned that Mark was not my father. Who would she talk to in order to make sense of this new revelation? Would she share it with her husband and children? Her friends? I felt badly that I had created this emotional drama for her, but I knew she would have to go through this sooner or later.

  Later that day, I call
ed my friend Jack at Andergene Labs and asked if he was up to doing another DNA test on one more of my siblings. By this point, Jack had done nearly a dozen tests for me and my family. He was fully engaged in watching our story develop. Jack told me that I was giving him so much business, I was due for a discount. “You know those places where if you buy ten sandwiches, you get the eleventh one for free?” he asked. “Well, you’ve sent me a lot of business with all you’ve done with your family, and I feel like you deserve a good discount on this test. Besides, I can’t wait to see how all of this ends up.” Jack may be a soft-spoken man, but he does have a great sense of humor.

  I sent Diane the testing kits, and when I called to tell her what the costs would be, I learned that she had already put an envelope in the mail with a blank check in it. She told me that after our phone conversation, she’d told our brother Neil about getting her DNA tested. Neil had just rolled his eyes and asked why she was wasting her money, saying everyone knew Mark hadn’t fathered any of us kids. When she heard this, she knew for sure she had to do something; it didn’t matter how much the test cost. I knew then that she was in this 100 percent; there was no turning back. Everyone in the family would finally know one way or another if Mark Anderson was their father.

  Jack knew there was a little more urgency to this test, so we got the results back faster than we had for any other test he’d done. I was anxious to know what Diane’s DNA would reveal. I think we all knew already what the results would be, but we needed to remove any doubt.

  When I’d first asked Mom who each of our fathers were, she had told me that Diane was Mark’s daughter. But a few days later on a return visit to the care facility, Mom started talking about our fathers again. This second time, she told me that Diane’s dad was someone other than Mark. It was late in the day and she sounded a bit groggy from her medications, so I didn’t put much stock in it; I just brushed it off as one more of Mom’s stories. But over the next few years, her comment kept bugging me.