Page 62 of The Unraveling of Julia

“Yes, at home in the States.”

“And you’re just beginning your search for your biological parents?”

“Yes. My adoptive parents are dead, and I knew they didn’t want me to look for my biological parents, even though they never said so.”

Poppy nodded, her features softening. “You felt like it would have been disloyal? A betrayal?”

Bingo.“Yes.”

“I understand completely. I’m adopted, too.”

“Really?” Julia asked, surprised. “Funny, I never met another person who was adopted.”

Poppy smiled. “You might have, but you may not have known it. People don’t always share.”

“Right, I don’t.” Julia thought a minute. “It doesn’t come up in everyday conversation. It mostly comes up when they ask for medical history.”

“That’s my experience as well. I’m older than you, but I didn’t tell the other kids at school I was adopted. I had an older brother who wasn’t, so they assumed I was his little sister. When I was growing up, adoption had a stigma, even in my mind. We stigmatize ourselves.”

“I felt it, too.”

“Most of us tend to interpret our relinquishment as abandonment, when it may not have been. We take it on, at worst. Or we fill in the blanks with supposition, projection, and fantasy, because we want it to be so.” Poppy paused. “I always say, wishful thinking is wistful thinking.”

Julia felt it strike another chord. “I wondered why my birth parents gave me up. I still do.”

“Yes, even terms likegive upcarry negative connotations. In my view, the quest for identity isn’t limited to adoptees. It’s something every individual undertakes during his lifetime, more than once.”

“That’s true.” Julia thought it was an insight, and it felt good to be connecting with Poppy in a meaningful way, so quickly.

“My story is similar to yours, in the emotional bits. I had a good relationship with my adoptive parents, who were Londoners. I didn’t search for my birth parents until after my first son was born. He has medical issues that made my history relevant.” A frown flickered across her lovely features. “I eventually found my birth father, though my birth mother had passed. He was unhappy when I tracked him down.” She paused. “Reunions with birth families may not be as we hoped.”

Julia’s gut tensed. Rossi was far from the grandmother she’d hoped for.

Poppy cocked her head. “So what brings you here today?”

“It all began when I inherited a lot of money and a villa in Croce from a woman named Emilia Rossi, whom I never met. I think she may be my birth grandmother. There is a caretaker couple there and they say Rossi didn’t have any children, but I believe she lied.”

“That’s not uncommon.”

“Plus Rossi thought she was related to Caterina Sforza.”

“You mean Caterina Sforza, from the Renaissance?” Poppy asked, her British accent emphasizing the second syllable.

“Yes, I know it sounds unlikely, but I think Rossicouldhave been related to Caterina.”

Poppy frowned. “It’s my understanding that if you go back ten generations in your family, your genome gets a contribution from less than half of those people. So, as a biological matter, the DNA of your biological grandmother and your DNA contain nothing of Caterina Sforza. One would not expect to find similarities in appearance or temperament, which are inheritable.”

“But I look at these pictures and I see some family similarity.”

“It’s possible, but it’s chance.”

“Can you trace lineage back that far, to Caterina Sforza’s era?”

“Icannot.” Poppy held up a manicured index finger. “It’s a matter of research for a historian. They conduct such searches for clients who wish to track down their heraldic coat of arms, family crests, or the like.”

Julia felt stumped. “So how do I find out if Rossi was related to Caterina, and if I’m related to Rossi?”

“This is what I meant by clarifying your goals.” Poppy leaned forward on her slim knees. “I can help you with determining whetheryou’re related to Rossi. I would begin searching Rossi’s birth records in Florence and surrounding towns.”

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