Page 107 of Engulfing Emma

“Do you speak English?” I ask.

She shakes her head.

I get out my phone and type into Google translate while Evie blurts out something in German. “Ich suche meinen leiblichen vater.”

Emma’s eyes widen, as I’m sure mine do. “You learned German?” she asks Evie.

“Just that one sentence.”

“What did you say?”

“I said ‘I’m looking for my birth father’.”

The woman narrows her eyes at Evie and then studies the three of us, rambling on in words none of us can decipher.

I quickly type into Google translate:This girl is looking for her birth father. We have a picture. Do you know the man in the photos? His name is Stefan Schmidt.

While the woman is reading the translation, a man appears behind her. “Wer ist das, Maus?“

She shows him what I typed. After he reads it, he says with a heavy accent, “I’m Stefan. Vat is this about?”

Evie shows him the photo strip. “I’m looking for my father.”

Emma puts a hand on her arm. “It’s not him, honey.”

“Are you sure?” Evie asks, disappointed.

Emma nods and turns to the couple. “I’m sorry we bothered you. We’ll be on our way.”

As we walk back down the driveway, the woman yells at the man in German. I hope we didn’t start something. I never thought about the fact that we’re showing up and accusing someone of having an illegitimate child.

“Maybe he just looks different,” Evie says when we reach the car.

“It’s only been twelve years, Evelyn. He wouldn’t lookthatdifferent. This man has different colored hair, is shorter than I remember, and he doesn’t have a birthmark on his cheek.”

Evie studies the photos. “That’s a birthmark? I always thought it was a piece of dirt or something on the camera lens.”

“Nope,” Emma says. “Birthmark.”

Evie’s head falls against the headrest. “Darn it.”

“I’m sorry, honey. We have two more chances. But we’re tired and jet lagged. Let’s return to the hotel, eat, and turn in early. We have a bit of a drive tomorrow.”

Evie puts in her earbuds.

I lean across the console and whisper to Emma, “Turn in early?”

She pushes me away. “Don’t even think about it, Lieutenant.”

I laugh. When she calls me that, she most definitely doesnotwant to turn in early.

~ ~ ~

I open my part of the connecting door and listen to see if I hear voices. I do, but it could just be the television. Damn doors are thick. Evie looked tired earlier. Surely she’s in bed by now. Then again, maybe Emma is too. She could have fallen asleep with the TV on.

I knock quietly and wait.

I knock again. A little louder this time.

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