The Lost

Legacy by Ruth Ryan Langan

To those still searching for family.

And for Tom, the heart and soul of ours.

One

“Miss O’Mara?” The young man’s voice was thick with Irish brogue.

“Yes.” Aidan O’Mara watched him doff his cap.

“The car is waiting. Right this way. I’ll take your luggage.” His big hand clamped around the handle of her overnight bag, and he tucked it under his arm as though it were a toy. He shouldered his way through the crowd at Dublin Airport, slowing his pace whenever she fell behind.

“Here we are.” He helped her into the backseat of a vehicle the size of a small boat before stowing her bag.

As he started the car he glanced over his shoulder. “There’s a bottle of water if you’d like. We’ve a bit of a drive ahead of us.”

“Thank you.” Aidan watched the flow of traffic, the passing scenery, with the fascination of one who had never before been to Ireland. Not only was she out of her own country for the first time, but completely out of her element.

How was it possible that just a week ago she’d buried her mother and watched her whole world unravel? Yet here she was, an ocean away from all that was familiar, being transported in a vintage Rolls by a red-haired, freckled lad in a jaunty cap who looked like a model for a travel brochure, on her way to meet a perfect stranger who hinted of secrets from her family’s past.

She was so weary, both physically and emotionally. So much had happened to her in the past few days. Too much for her to take in. The steady flow of traffic, the moving river of humanity inching along the streets of Dublin became a blur.

Drained, she leaned her head back and closed her eyes, allowing herself to drift back.

“Aidan. I’m sorry for your loss.” Father Davis handed the young woman a small wooden cross from her mother’s casket before turning away from the gravesite. He paused. “You know, of course, our church pantry can assist you with some meals until you’re back on your feet. If you need anything at all…”

“Thank you, Father. I’ll be fine.” She could feel the stares from those who were standing nearby, and could hear their whispered comments about her mother’s long illness and the drain on her finances.

She thanked the friends and neighbors who had come to offer their condolences, holding herself together by sheer force of will.

She experienced an odd sense of relief when she was finally alone. Dropping to her knees, she let out a long, deep sigh and looked at the headstones of her family members that surrounded her mother’s fresh grave. Thankfully her parents had bought the sites many years ago, in order to be buried near their own parents. If Aidan had been forced to buy a cemetery plot along with all the other funeral costs, she could never have afforded it.

These past months had been so hard. At first she’d been able to juggle her work at the bank and the care of her mother. As the illness progressed and things became more difficult, a neighbor suggested a private nursing facility. Aidan had looked into it, only to learn that the cost was more than she could manage. She spoke with her supervisor at work, hoping for a leave of absence, but that was denied. Ultimately forced to choose between quitting her job and putting her mother in a public facility, she’d stayed home and tended her mother to the end.

She hoped that all these months later her position at the bank would still be available. Her meager savings were now depleted.

Because she’d sold her car, she walked the six blocks to the tidy house she’d shared with her mother, after giving up her apartment. As she entered she picked up the mail and carried it to the kitchen. She made a cup of tea and sat at the table, carefully opening each envelope and adding to the pile of unpaid bills. The medical bills were bad enough, but the unpaid taxes meant that she would soon see her family home go up for auction.

“Oh, Mama.” She buried her face in her hands, refusing to give in to the desire to weep.

How had her life taken such a turn? She’d been raised in a lovely, middle-class family, and had a good education and a fine work ethic. Though it was true that her grandfather had squandered a good deal of his savings on land speculation that hadn’t paid off, Aidan’s mother and grandmother had picked up the pieces and paid off his debts. Her father had saved enough for a decent retirement, at least until his prolonged illness drained his income. With her mother’s illness following on the heels of his death, Aidan’s life savings were quickly gone, as well.

Her fingers moved over the calculator, tallying the debt so far. She studied her negative bank balance and felt a sudden panic. In her line of work at the bank she’d counseled many people who were one paycheck away from financial disaster. Unlike them, she had no paycheck to depend on. She was already ruined.

She glanced at the clock. Too late to phone her old supervisor now. But first thing tomorrow she would make that call. Mr. Saunders had to hire her back. Had to.

When the doorbell rang, she thought about ignoring it. She was too drained to deal with well-m eaning neighbors. But good ma

“Aidan O’Mara?”

The man was dressed in an impeccable suit and tie, and carrying an attaché case. He handed her a business card. “Philip Barlow, with Putnam, Shaw and Forest.”

At the mention of one of the best-known legal firms in town, her smile fled. Which of her creditors had turned her debt over to a law firm?

“I’m Aidan O’Mara.” She squared her shoulders to hide the feeling of dread at what was to come. A lawsuit on top of everything else would be the final humiliation.

“Ms. O’Mara, I’m sorry about the timing of my visit. But it was your mother’s obituary in the newspaper that brought me here. You are listed as her next of kin.”

Aidan nodded. “Her only kin.”

“Maybe not.” At his words, her head came up sharply.

“My firm was contacted by a legal firm in Ireland. Mr. Cullen Glin, from the town of Glinkilly, in the county of Kerry, Ireland, has spent years searching for his long-l ost child. We have reason to believe that your mother was his daughter.”

Though relieved to know that his visit wasn’t about a debt, Aidan was already shaking her head. “I’m sorry. You’re mistaken. My mother’s parents lived right here in town. I’ve known them all my life.”

“I’m sure you have. But Mr. Glin’s sworn statement says otherwise. There are… extenuating circumstances that will question certain claims that you have accepted as fact for a lifetime.”

“But I…”

“Mr. Glin’s arguments are very persuasive.” The young lawyer glanced around the small foyer, noting the well-worn carpet, the faded draperies. “When I reached his solicitor by phone, I was instructed to relay his request that you fly to Ireland and meet his client face-to-face. If, after that meeting, either of you is not persuaded of the relationship, your visit will be terminated at once.” Seeing that she was about to refuse, he added, “Needless to say, all your expenses will be covered, and you will be given a generous stipend for your inconvenience.”

For a moment she was taken by such surprise, she couldn’t find her voice. At last she managed, “This is all very tempting, but I know without seeing your Mr. Glin that we couldn’t possibly be related.”

He merely smiled. “Then think of this offer as a gift to you. A chance to get away from your life as you know it and spend a few pleasant days in Ireland.”

“Sorry…” Her hand went to the door.

“Before you refuse, perhaps you should read this.” He reached into his briefcase and withdrew a sheaf of papers. “You have my card. Call me when you’ve come to a decision.”