Part 28 (1/2)
Eaton regarded him warily. ”Yes.”
”She inherited it from one of her parents,” Hugh went on in that same restrained tone, ”and, naturally, we a.s.sumed it was Dana, because from the start we a.s.sumed that the African gene came from her side, since my side of the family is lily-white. Funny thing, though, Dad. Dana tested negative. So I thought to myself, What the h.e.l.l, I'll take the test myself, because of course it'll come out negative too, then they'll retest Dana. Only my test came back positive.”
Eaton's face lost all its color. He didn't speak, just stared at Hugh-which infuriated his son all the more.
”So suddenly,” Hugh said, ”I started thinking about the way you attacked my wife the day Lizzie was born-the way you were so quick to accuse her of having an affair. I started thinking about the way you didn't want to see my child”-he still smarted from that-”even after I'd demeaned Dana by doing a paternity test to prove to you that this baby was mine. So I start wondering why you didn't want to see this innocent brown-skinned baby-you, who have always been respectful of people of color.”
Eaton stood rigidly silent.
Hugh braced a shaky hand on the counter. ”When I was driving over here, I remembered the last time we talked on the phone. You were fixated on your book, saying that the timing of this was bad, like it was deliberate sabotage on Dana's and my part. Then I thought about the book itself,” he continued, ”which is nothing if not a testimony to our aristocratic family. I began wondering if you knew your book, your life was a fraud.”
”I don't know it.”
”And the great white liberal your books portray you to be,” Hugh raged, ”is he real? Or have you been pandering to minorities all these years out of guilt that you were pa.s.sing for white?”
”I did not write anything with that in mind,” Eaton stated.
”Are you truly unprejudiced, or was it all for show?”
”Does it matter?” his father shot back. ”Doesn't the end justify the means?”
”No. Motive counts. It's what's here,” Hugh said, touching his chest, a gesture Dana had made not so long ago.
”Not always,” Eaton argued.
”Even if it makes you a fraud?”
Eaton blinked at the word and the fight went out of him. He looked suddenly defenseless. ”The sickle-cell business is the first concrete evidence I've heard.”
”The first concrete evidence? What about non-concrete evidence?”
”There was none,” Eaton insisted. ”No evidence at all.”
”But did you know there was a possibility our family isn't what we thought?”
Eaton stared at him. After a long moment, he nodded and looked away.
”When?” Hugh asked. ”How far back?”
”Not too far.”
”Are we talking Reconstruction?”
”Less. Not even seventy-five years ago.” His gaze slid to Hugh's face. ”I heard rumor when I was a boy. And again when you and Robert were born. We were spending our summers on the Vineyard.” He frowned and pressed his lips together.
”Don't stop now,” Hugh warned.
His father looked up. ”Hugh. I don't know what I know.”
”Start with the rumors.” He had never pressed his father this way. He had too much respect. But all that had changed.
Eaton leaned against the sink and looked out over the pool to the wrought-iron table and his wife. He was silent a minute longer. Then he sighed. ”Rumor said my mother had an affair with someone on the island.”
”An African American.”
”Yes. He was a lawyer in D.C., but he summered in Oak Bluffs. My mother used to see him around town.”
”See him?”
Eaton's eyes flew to his son-dark eyes, Hugh realized, so like his own, so like Lizzie's. ”I don't know for sure that there was an affair.”
”Dad,” Hugh snapped, ”I carry the sickle-cell trait. Think I got it from Mom?”
Eaton didn't reply.
”Does she know about any of this?”
”No.”
Hugh pressed the throbbing pulse at his brow. ”Did your father know that his wife had an affair?”
”I don't know what he knew,” Eaton answered.
”Did he ever say anything to you?”
”No.”
”What else do you know about the guy? Do you know his name?”
”Yes.”
”Is he still alive?”
”No.”
”Does he have family?”
”A sister. He was from a racially mixed family-one parent black, one white. He was light-skinned himself.”
Hugh focused on the genetics. ”So, if he had a child with a white woman, that child stood a chance of being even lighter-skinned.”
Eaton hesitated. ”Maybe yes, maybe no. I gather that when I was born the rumors died down. They rose again when I turned up on the Vineyard with my pregnant wife. The same gossipmongers began to speculate that my child might resemble its grandfather. When you were born, the rumors died again. Same with Robert.”
”Robert,” Hugh breathed. This raised another issue. ”You stopped after Robert. That's two children. Most Clarkes have three or four. Did you figure you couldn't keep pus.h.i.+ng your luck?”
”No. Your mother had a difficult pregnancy with Robert. She was told not to have another child.”