Connections in a Time of Coronavirus

Nicole found some of her mother’s old photos in a manila envelope. Growing up, she‘d leafed through leather-bound albums that captured her family’s history, but she’d never seen these photos before: pictures of her mom when she was young and working for a photo studio. In some, she was wearing costumes, like a hula skirt, and in others, ‘40s style clothing from shirtwaists to jodhpurs for riding. Others showed her with a handsome, dark-haired young man who appeared to be her boyfriend. Nicole’s own father was a blond. Then, she found an 8 x10 photo, sepia-toned and colored by hand, of a curly-haired baby girl. Setting the envelope of photos aside, she went downstairs.

While continuing to ponder the mysterious pics, Nicole went to check her To Do list. She was on a roll and feeling energized. It was mid-March and they’d been on lockdown for a week. Her list was shrinking. Absentee ballots: check. Census forms: check. Income taxes: check. Donation to Second Harvest: check. Though the country was suffering through the COVID-19 crisis, she and Rachid were some of the lucky ones, able to shelter at home and not financially strapped. She was incredibly sad that so many had lost loved ones, and she felt guilty about those waiting to qualify for unemployment, or joining food pantry lines for the first time.

Picking up a white box from her desk in the den, she pulled out a slim tube, added her saliva, capped it off, and shook it till her spit blended with the accompanying blue liquid. Then, she inserted the tube into a bubble mailer and added her DNA sample to the pile of envelopes destined for the mail.

“What’s for dinner?” asked her husband as she entered the kitchen. “You tell me, Chef,” she replied. Moments later, she remembered a recipe she’d clipped from the local paper. “How ‘bout Chicken Florentine? I know you’ve wanted to use up that spinach and we’ve still got some heavy cream. If you make a big batch of rice, I can turn what’s left into rice pudding.”

Other than text messages, phone calls, and brief social distancing exchanges, their world had largely shrunk to a ménage à deux. Often, they only had each other with whom to trade stories about their daily tasks and creative projects.

“I’ve almost finished mudding the downstairs drywall,” said Rachid, who was fond of watching HGTV shows. “Then you can help pick paint colors.”

“And I’m finally tackling some of those plastic bins that we brought here three years ago after Mom died,” said his wife. “One of them was filled with old photos, including some cute ones of Noor as a baby. There’re even pics of Mom in high school and that year she lived in San Francisco with Aunt Molly. “

After she made the rice pudding, they settled in to watch the latest Masterpiece Mystery episode. Escapism helped.

                                                                         ~~~~~

May day! May day! Not a distress call, Nicole thought, just the first day of that lusty month of “Camelot” fame. But there wouldn’t be any marches or maypoles this year: where they lived, everyone was still sequestered. The grass was greening, the robins were preening, and lately, “going stir-crazy” had taken on new meaning.

The sun was shining, so she went outside to get some vitamin D. Daffodils and tulips were blooming, and cardinals were calling from the trees. She circled the house noting lilies of the valley, and watching squirrels scurry up the newly budding trees.

Their state of Wisconsin had managed to flatten the COVID-19 curve, but with her history of breast cancer and pneumonia, she feared getting sick and wanted to strengthen her immune system. Exercise, a healthy diet, and sleep were the order of the day. Her heart ached for the thousands who’d died in the pandemic, especially the young and those on the front lines. She couldn’t help feeling a sense of guilt that she could stay safe at home while others were valiantly fighting this battle. Her own daughter, Noor, was working as a nurse in Washington. While she didn’t work directly with coronavirus patients, she still had to venture out in public.

Rachid was turning over the soil and weeding the garden, so she wandered nearby to check on the rhubarb. “I think I’ll do some baking today,” she said, “we still have some berries and the neighbors love my strawberry-rhubarb pie.”

She went inside and decided to check her email. As usual, her inbox was flooded with an overwhelming amount of junk mail. Then, she noticed a message from Ancestry.com. She’d already received the results from her daughter Noor’s saliva sample. That had piqued her interest in getting herself tested. According to her parents, she was supposed to be half German and half Irish. But though Noor’s DNA was an interesting mix of her dad’s Moroccan genes and her mom’s European ones, there was just a smidgeon of Irish DNA. Now, her own results showed German, Eastern European, English, Scandinavian, and only 11% Irish DNA. No doubt Viking invasions and British colonialism had played a role in her genetic inheritance.

Next, Nicole clicked on the “Matches” tab. Under “Close Matches--1^st Cousin” was a name she had never seen or heard before, Lauren Brook. She looked up what that might mean and discovered it could be a niece, nephew, half sibling, or, yes, a cousin.

Rachid came in to get a drink and she showed him the screen. “I got my DNA results and they show I have a close relative named Lauren that I’ve never heard of before.”

Sipping his water, he looked at the screen, “Hmmm…with that dark, curly hair, she looks more like one of my relatives than yours.  I see that your sister, Beth, is listed under “Full Sibling.” Maybe she’ll know who that is.”

Nicole went out to cut some rhubarb, and assembled the ingredients for her pies. As she rolled out the dough, her mind wandered back to her recent duo of discoveries and she wondered if there could be a connection. Both her mom and Aunt Molly had passed away, so the best way to gather more clues would be to contact her sister and, then, this mysterious “close” relative with that unrelated last name.

She put the pies in the oven and picked up her cell to call Beth.

“Hey, Sis! How are you handling these shelter-at-home days?”

“Well, Oliver’s happy I’m walking him ten times a day, and I’m happy to be making progress on my bedside pile of books.”

“I see you also got your DNA results back. I’m so glad you let me talk you into doing this. Isn’t it fascinating how siblings can have such a different mix of ethnic percentages?”

“I know! You have more Scandinavian DNA and I’m more Irish.”

“Did you happen to click on the “Matches” tab?”

“Not yet. Anything interesting?”

“Not just interesting, down right mysterious. Apparently, we have a “Close Family” connection that I, for one, have never heard of. Did mom or dad or Aunt Molly ever mention a Lauren Brook to you?”

“No, that name doesn’t ring a bell.”

“OK, well, I’m going to send an email and see what this Lauren might reveal.”

Nicole got off the phone and checked the Ancestry website one more time before sending off a message to long lost Lauren.

Soon the pies were out of the oven, and after they cooled down a bit, she left one by the neighbor’s back porch. Their Ring doorbell would probably alert them to its presence even before her text message. She waved to their cat Bohdi, who blinked from his cozy window perch.

                                                                     ~~~~~

The next day she eagerly checked her email, but there was nothing of consequence.

When Cinco de Mayo rolled around, she noted the memes about Taco Tuesday and Corona beer, popular despite the virus. She switched from Facebook to her email account and immediately noticed the Ancestry.com message from Lauren.

“Hi Nicole!” she read. “Back in 1945, I was adopted by loving parents here in the San Francisco area. It was a closed adoption, so common in those days, so I was never able to track down my biological parents. Until now, perhaps. I was so elated to get the Ancestry Match results revealing that you and your sister Beth are close relatives. Can you provide any further information that would help solve the puzzle about how we’re related? Eagerly awaiting your reply, Lauren”

“OMG!” Nicole exclaimed in the direction of her husband, “I think I know why I never saw those early photos of mom when she was a twenty-something. I’m sure she and Aunt Molly were trying to keep a secret and Lauren is part of that buried past.”

Before Rachid could respond, she dashed up the stairs, careful to grab the railing, and headed for the plastic bin of photos. She grabbed the manila envelope and returned to her computer.

She replied to Lauren’s email with the info that both her mom and aunt had lived in San Francisco around the time of Lauren’s birth. She asked if Lauren had any baby pictures and could she send a text message or email with a copy. She concluded by enclosing both her cell number and direct email address. Then she waited.

Lauren’s reply was almost immediate, with an attached photo showing the same smiling baby that Nicole had seen in her mother’s 8 x 10 hand-tinted, sepia print.

It seemed likely that her mother’s dark-haired boyfriend was the father. Had he enlisted or been drafted during the war? She checked the backs of some of the old photos and discovered that his first name was Joe. Then, she recalled that an old yearbook of her mother’s was also in the bin.

Within the hour, she was talking, first to Beth, then Lauren, spreading the news. Even in this time of COVID-19, when so many were losing family, their family was expanding. Lauren, especially, was glad to finally discover her roots. All three siblings were excited to celebrate when this terrible pandemic was over.

After a bit of digging, they discovered that Lauren’s biological father HAD enlisted in the army. He was a true GI “Joe” who’d perished near the end of WWII. He wasn’t coming home, so Lauren had been given up for adoption.