Page 54 of Edging Obsession

Elliott asks, “Isn’t it a bit cold to sit outside?”

“I have the outdoor fireplace and heaters going. Sometimes the animals make their way over to the terrace.”

He actually smiles. “You convinced me.”

My arm stretches toward the furniture by the fire. “Make yourselves comfortable. There are tons of blankets to use. Drinks?”

Elliott requests a beer, and Elise just wants a seltzer water. Jules loves bottled fruit water, so I retrieve one for her. Once they’re comfortable, I sit across from them, and Jules cuddles into my side.

Elise traces her finger over the top of her glass, and asks, “Do you have good or bad news for us?”

There’s no wasting time with Elise. “Good news. I found the biological mother.” They gasp and Jules puts distance between us, so she can take it all in. I glance at Elise and Elliott. “This means I found your biological daughter.”

They swap looks, gazing into their laps, biting their lips, heads rising to peer into the distance. I knew guilt would silence them.

Since no one says anything, I add, “They don’t live far from here.” My eyes meet Jules’ and tears are already bubbling in hers. “Your mom’s name is Elisabeth Rothberg. She’s a single mom, working at a bakery, along with doing seamstress work. It seems the father hasn’t been in the picture.” Then I look at Elise and Elliott. “Your daughter’s name is Anja Rothberg. She attends university.” Elise’s silent tears match Jules’. “Look, this doesn’t change how you feel about each other.” Elliott and Elise survey Jules and she does the same. “You can do whatever you want with this information. It’s up to you whether you want to meet them.”

Jules’ tear-streaked face squeezes my heart. Like her parents, they’re torn between meeting them or leaving the past behind.

She reaches for my hand and asks, “Do you have a picture of my mother?”

Her eyes quickly dart to Elise and Elliott, who give her a smile. Their bodies seem to deflate with her question, as if they’re interested, too.

“I do. Wait here.”

I retrieve the file from the house. Outside, I hand Anja’s picture to Elise and Elliott, and Elisabeth’s picture to Jules. They stare at the photos, sobs catching in their throats, studying each other for approval. Jules reaches over, requesting the picture of their biological daughter, and they take her mother’s picture. They’re all nodding, smiling down at the photos.

Jules swipes at her tears. “Mom, she has your almond shaped eyes and full lips. Her hair is the same midnight color as Dad’s.”

Elise’s emotions catch in her throat, so she pauses before responding. “It looks like you got your mother’s height and slender build. She’s beautiful.” Elise looks up at Jules. “Just like you.”

They return the photos and remain quiet, letting the overwhelming emotions subside. The cook brings out the dishes, and I suggest we eat before any decisions are made. Lunch is silent aside from the cutlery and the soft crunching of snow from the nearby animals. Afterward, we sit back by the fireplace, with Elliott and I drinking beer, and Elise and Jules a margarita. I know what they did yesterday, but I ask anyways. Jules tells me. Elise and Jules giggle when she tells me about Elliott’s reaction to the group sex building. The drinks are loosening them up.

Another round and Elliott leans forward, and out of the blue asks, “If we want to meet our biological daughter and Jules’ mother, how would we go about it?”

“To my knowledge, they know nothing about you or the switch. I can see when Elisabeth is off work, and we can head over there. She’ll be blindsided, except there’s no other way to do it. It’s possible she won’t even believe us. Maybe if she sees Jules, she’ll be willing to talk.”

He sits back, mulling over what I said, and the rest of the conversation is about the concert tour. For the next two weeks, we’re performing locally in Gelsenkirchen, Belgium, and the Netherlands, within reasonable driving distances, so we can all remain at the houses, and I’ll have time for them all to meet.

After a couple of days, the three of them decide they want to meet Elisabeth and Anja. I have a driver take us to her neighborhood. One can tell how influential the neighborhood is by the care the town takes in and around the housing. Most of the buildings in the area areWohnungen—apartmentswith little upkeep. Jules’ face is up against the car window, staring out as we pass one grayMehrfamilienhaus—multi-family buildingafter another. Our driver pulls up to the curb of the building, and everyone gradually gets out of the car. I grip Jules’ hand, giving it a slight squeeze, leading the rest of the group up to the door. These older buildings aren’t secure. The chipped wood doors show years of wear and tear. Instead of ringing, I remove a screwdriver from my pocket to pop open the lock on the door.

Jules gasps. “Miles. You can’t do that.”

“Just did.” I tick my head toward the inside of the hallway. “Come on. The people here aren’t as afraid as Americans.”

Their eyes wander over the building and hallway as I make my way to the second floor. There’s aWillkommenmat in front of the door, along with a planter of flowers. Elliott and Elise huddle behind me, while Elise hugs Jules to her.

I knock, pausing to hear the clacking of shoes on the other side. Without asking who it is, the door opens, and a woman whose slightly meatier figure resembles my Jules, stands gaping at us. They have the same full lips. This is a delicate situation, and if I want to win over Elise and Elliott, I can’t be a dick about it.

My hand rests over my heart. “Entschuldigen Sie, bitte. Mein Name ist Miles Nash.” (Excuse me, please. My name is Miles Nash.)I turn to introduce Elise and Elliott as Jules hides behind her mother. “Wir würden gerne mit Ihnen sprechen.”(We would like to talk to you.)

She closes the door enough to where only her body is visible. “Worüber?”(About what?)

“Haben Sie um den 19. August 1996 in den USA ein Kind zur Welt gebracht?”(Did you give birth to a child in the U.S. around August 19, 1996?)

Her eyes narrow on me, flicking occasionally to Elise and Elliott. “Ich wüsste nicht, was Sie das angehen sollte.”(I don’t see where that’s any of your business.)

Elise steps forward and says in English, “Please. We think you might have our daughter.”

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