It wasn’t until right before I went to bed on Thursdaythat Mom bothered to tell me the son she'd given up for adoption twenty yearsearlier was coming over for supper the next day.

'What son?' I asked.

'I'm sure I've told you about him,' Mom said.'You must have forgotten.'

I figured I probably had. I’m always forgetting littlethings like my homework assignments and being elected President of the UnitedStates. Having an older brother must have just slipped my mind. 'How'd youtwo find each other?' I asked. Presumably Mom had never told me that.

“I registered with an agency,” she said. 'Put myname and address in a book, so if he ever wanted to find me, he could. I guesshe did. Don't be late for supper tomorrow.'

'I won't be,' I promised. This was one reunionI had no intention of missing.

School the next day really dragged on. School never goesfast on Fridays, but when your mind is on some newly acquired half I brother,it's real hard to care about Julius Caesar.' I didn't tell anybody, though. Itseemed to me it was Mom's story not mine, and besides, my friends all thinkshe's crazy anyway. Probably from things I've said over the years.

'I took a sick day,' she informed me. 'SoI could prepare better.'

'Everything looks great,' I told her. It wastrue. I hadn't seen the place look so good since Great-Aunt Trudy came with thegoat, but that's another story. 'You look very pretty too.'

'I got my nails done,' Mom said, showing themoff for me. They were coral colored. 'And my hair.'

I nodded. Mom had taught me that nothing was unbearableif your hair looked nice.

'Is that what you're planning to wear tonight?'she asked.

'I thought I'd shower and change into mydress,' I said. I own a grand total of one dress, but this seemed to bethe right kind of occasion for it.

Mom gave me a smile like I'd just been canonized.'Thank you,' she said. 'Tonight's kind of important forme.'

I nodded. I wasn't sure just what to say anymore. Mom andI have been alone for eight years, and you'd figure by now I'd know how tohandle her under any circumstances, but this one had me stumped. 'What'sfor supper?' I finally asked.

'Southern fried chicken,' Mom said. 'Atfirst I thought I'd make a roast, but then what if he doesn't like his meatrare? And turkey seemed too Thanksgivingish, if you know what I mean. Everybodylikes fried chicken. And I made mashed potatoes and biscuits and a spinachsalad.'

'Spinach salad?' I asked. I could picture Mompouring the spinach out of a can and dousing it with Wishbones

'From scratch,' Mom informed me.'Everything's from scratch. And I baked an apple pie too. The ice cream isstore bought, but I got one of those expensive brands. What do you think?'

I thought that there obviously was something to thatProdigal Son story, since Mom never made anything more elaborate for me thanscrambled eggs. 'It smells great,' I said. It did, too, the way youpicture a house in a commercial smelling, all homey and warm. 'I'm sureeverything will go fine.'

'I want it to,' Mom said, as though I'dsuggested that maybe she didn't.

There were a few things I knew I'd better clear up beforeBig Brother showed up. 'What's his name?' I asked, for starters'

'Jack,' Mom said. 'That's not what I wouldhave named him. I would have named him Ronald.'

'You would have?' I asked. I personally amnamed Tiffany, and Ronald would not have been my first guess.

'Your boyfriend,' I said. 'You mean hisfather?'

Mom nodded. 'You think of them as boyfriends, notfathers, when you're sixteen,' she said.

Well that answered question number two. It had seemed unlikelyto me that my father was responsible, but who knew? I wasn't there. Maybe heand Mom had decided they wanted a girl, and chucked out any boys that camealong first.

Speaking of which. 'There aren't any other brothersI've forgotten about?' I asked. 'Is this going to be the first ofmany such dinners?'

'Jack's the only one,' Mom replied. 'lwanted to keep him, but Ronny wasn't about to get married, and Dad said if Igave him up for adoption then I could still go to college. I did the rightthing, for him and for me. And I would have gone to college if I hadn’t metyour father. I don’t know. Maybe because I gave up the baby, I was too eager toget married. I never really thought about it.”

'I told him,' Mom said. 'He said it didn'tmatter to him. And it didn't. 'Whatever else was wrong in our marriage, henever threw the baby in my face.'

I found myself picturing a baby being thrown in Mom'sface, and decided I should take my shower fast. So I sniffed the kitchenappreciatively and scurried out. In the shower I tried to imagine what thisJack would look like, but he kept resembling Dad's high-school graduationpicture, which made no sense biologically at all. So I stopped imagining.

When I went to my bedroom to change, though, I was reallyshocked. Mom had extended her cleaning ways to include my room. All mycarefully laid out messes were gone. It would probably take me months toreassemble things. I considered screaming at Mom about the sanctity of one'sbedroom, but I decided against it. Mom obviously wanted this guy to think sheand I were the perfect American family, and lf that meant even my room had tobe clean, then nothing was going to stop her. I could live with it, at leastfor the evening.

Mom and I set the table three times before the doorbellfinally rang. When it did, neither one of us knew who should answer it, but Momfinally opened the door. 'Hello,' this guy said. 'I'mJack.'

'I'm Linda,' Mom replied. 'Come on in.it's nice to… well, it’s seeing you.'

'Good to see you too,' Jack said. He didn'tlook anything like my father.

'Her daughter' I said. 'Your sister.'I mean, those words were going to be used at some point during the evening. Wemight as well get them out of the way fast. Then when we got around to the bigtricky words like mother and son, at least some groundwork would have beenlaid.

'It's nice to meet you,' Jack said, and he gaveme his hand to shake, so I shook it. They say you can tell a lot about a man fromhis handshake, but not when he's your long lost brother. 'I hope my cominglike this isn't any kind of a brother. I mean bother.'

'Not at all,' Mom said. 'I'm going tocheck on dinner. Tiffany, why don't you show Jack the living room I'll join youin a moment.'

'This is the living room,' I said, which waspretty easy to show Jack, since we were already standing in it. 'Want tosit down?'

'Yeah, sure,' Jack said. 'Have you livedhere long?'

'That long,' Jack said. 'Where's yourfather?'

'He lives in Oak Ridge,' I said. 'That's acouple of hundred miles from here. I see him sometimes.'

'Is he . . .' Jack began. 'l mean, I don'tsuppose you'd know . . .'

'Is he your father too?' I said. 'No. Ikind of asked. Your father's name is Ronny. My father's name is Mike. I don'tknow much else about your father except he didn't want to marry Mom. They wereboth teenagers, I guess. Do you want to meet him too?'

I could sure understand that one. 'I've alwayswanted to have a big brother,' I told him. 'l always had crushes onmy friends' big brothers. Did you want that-to have a kid sister, I mean?'

'I have one,' Jack said. 'No, I guess nowI have two. I have a sister back home. 'Her name is Leigh Ann. She's adoptedtoo. She's Korean.'

'Oh,' I said. 'That's nice. I guess thereisn't much of a family resemblance, then.'

'Not much,' Jack said, but he smiled.'She's twelve. How old are you?'

'Fifteen,' I said. 'Do you go tocollege?' Jack nodded. 'I'm a sophomore at Bucknell,' he said.'Do you think you'll go to college?'

'I'd like to,' I said. 'I don't know ifwe'll have the money, though.'

'It's rough,' Jack said. 'College costs alot these days. My father's always griping about it. He owns a car dealership.New and used. I work there summers. My mom's a housewife.' I wanted totell him how hard Mom had worked on supper, how messy the apartment usuallywas, how I never wore a dress, and Mom's nails were always a deep sinfulscarlet.

I wanted to tell him that maybe someday I'd be jealousthat he'd been given away to a family that could afford to send him to college,but that it was too soon for me to feel much of anything about him. There was alot I wanted to say, but I didn't say any of it.

'What's she like?' Jack asked me, and hegestured toward the kitchen, as though I might not otherwise know who he wastalking about.

'Mom?' I said. 'She's terrible. She drinksand she gambles and she beats me black and blue if I even think somethingwrong.'

Jack looked horrified. I realized he had definitely notinherited Mom's sense of humor.

'I'm only kidding,' I said. 'I haven'teven been spanked since I was five. She's fine. She's a good mother. It musthave really hurt her to give you away like that.'

'Not until recently,' I said. It didn't seemright to tell him I'd learned less than twenty four hours before. 'I guessMom was waiting until I was old enough to understand.'

'I always knew I was adopted,' Jack said.'And for years I've wanted to meet my biological parents. To see what theylooked like. I love Mom and Dad, you understand. But I felt this need.'

'I can imagine,' I said, and I could too. I wasstarting to develop a real need to see what Jack's parents looked like, and weweren't even related.

'Tiffany, could you come in here for a minute?'Mom called from the kitchen.

'Coming, Mom,' l said, and left the living roomfast. It takes a lot out of you making small talk with a brother.

'W-hat do you think?' Mom whispered as soon asshe saw me. 'Does he look like me?'

'He has your eyes,' I said. 'And I thinkhe has your old hair color.'

'I know,' Mom said, patting her bottle redhair. 'l almost asked them to dye me back to my original shade, but Iwasn't sure I could remember it anymore. Do you like him? Does he seemnice?'

'He sure didn't inherit those from Ronny,' Momdeclared. 'Come on, let's start taking the food out.'

So we did. We carried out platters of chicken and mashedpotatoes and biscuits and salad' Jack came to the table as soon as he saw whatwe were doing.

'Oh, no,' he said. 'I mean, I'm sorry. Ishould have told you I’m a vegetarian.'

'You are?' Mom said. She looked as shocked ashe'd told her he was a vampire. Meat is very important to Mom. You're not sickor anything, are you?'

“No, it's for moral reasons,' Jack said. It drivesmy mom, my mother, her name's Cathy, it drives Cathy crazy.'

“Your mom,' my mom said. 'It would drive mecrazy, too, if Tiffany stopped eating meat just for moral reasons.'

“Don't worry about it,' I told her. 'I'll neverbe that moral.'

“There's plenty for me to eat,' Jack said. Potatoesand biscuits and salad.'

“We can wash the bacon off, can't we Jack?” I said.'You'll eat it if we wash the bacon off, won’t you?”

I thought he hesitated for a moment, but then he said,'Of course I can,' and for the first time since we'd met, I kind ofliked him. I took the salad into the kitchen and washed it all. The saladdressing went the way of the bacon, but we weren't about to complain. At leastthere'd be something green on Jack's plate. All his other food was gray-white.

Mom hardly ate her chicken, which I figured was out ofdeference to the vegetarian, but I had two and a half pieces, figuring it mightbe years before Mom made it again. Jack ate more potatoes than I'd ever seenanother human being eat. No gravy, but lots of potatoes. We talked polite stuffduring dinner, what he was studying in college, where Mom worked, theadjustments Leigh Ann had had to make. Their real things could only bediscussed one on one, so after the pie and ice cream, I excused myself and wentto Mom's room to watch TV. Only I couldn't make my eyes focus, so I crossed thehall to my room and recreated my messes. Once I had everything in proper order,though, I put things back the way Mom had had them. I could hear them talkingwhile I moved piles around, and then I turned on my radio, so I couldn't evenhear the occasional stray word, like father and high school and lawyer. Thatwas a trick I'd learned years ago, when Mom and Dad were in their fightingstage. The radio played a lot of old songs that night. It made me feel like Iwas seven all over again.

After a while Mom knocked on my door and said Jack wasleaving, so I went to the living room and shook hands with him again. I stillcouldn’t tell anything about his personality from his handshake, but he didhave good manners, and he gave me a little pecking kiss on my check, which Ithought was sweet of him. Mom kept the door open, and watched as he walked thelength of the corridor to the stairs. She didn't close the door until he'dgotten into a car, his I assumed. Maybe it was a loaner from his father.

'You give away a baby,' Mom said, 'andtwenty years later he turns up on your doorstep a vegetarian.”

But Mom wasn't in the mood for those kinds of jokes.'Don't you ever make that mistake,' she said.

“What mistake?” I asked, afraid she meant making jokes.If I couldn't make jokes with Mom, I wouldn't know how to talk with her.

'Don't you ever give up something so important toyou that it breathes when you do,' Mom said. 'It doesn't have to be akid. It can be a dream, an ambition or a marriage, or a house. It can beanything you care about as deeply as you care about your own life. Don't everjust give it away, because you'll spend the rest of your life wondering aboutit or pretending you don't wonder, which is the same thing, and you'll wake upone morning and realize it truly is gone and a big part of you is gone with it.Do you hear me, Tiffany?'

'I hear you,' I said. I'd never seen Mom sointense, and I didn't like being around her. 'I'm kind of tired now, Mom.Would you mind if I went to bed early?'

'I'll clean up tomorrow,' Mom said. 'Youcan go to bed.'

So I did. I left her sitting in the living room and wentto my bedroom and closed my door. But this time I didn't tum the radio on, andlater, when I'd been lying on my bed for hours, not able to sleep, could hearher in her room crying. I'd heard her cry in her room a hundred times before,and a hundred times before I'd gotten up and comforted her, and I knew she'dcry a hundred times again and I’d comfort her then, too, but that night I juststayed in my room, on my bed, staring at the ceiling and listening to her cry.I think I did the right thing not going in there. That's how it is withstranger. You can never really comfort them.