Page 101 of All We Thought We Knew
I’d fled from the room.
For the next forty-eight hours my imagination went in a dozen frightening directions, a jumble of shock, fear, and horror.
Did Dad know Mark and I weren’t his children? Had Mama become pregnant by the German prisoner and tricked Dad into marrying her? Did Gunther Schneider even know I existed?
I’d been an emotional mess at dinner and excused myself from the table, unable to look Dad in the eye. Nash knew something was wrong, but I couldn’t tell him. Not yet. Not until I had all the sordid details.
But Mama took a turn for the worse during the night.
Dad called Dr. Monahan, and an ambulance arrived, its lights flashing in the pitch-black sky, and carried her to the hospital. There, the doctors determined the tumor was pressing on her brain. To relieve the pain, she’d been put on an IV drip of morphine that essentially knocked her out. We stayed at the hospital all day, but visitors weren’t allowed to remain overnight with a patient. Neither of us ate the simple dinner Nash had prepared. When I woke up after a night of tossing and turning, I found a note by the coffee percolator informing me Dad had gone to the hospital. Nash would drive me to town when I was ready.
Now, with morning sunshine streaming through the curtains, I sat on Mama’s empty bed, numb. No tears. No wails. No clenched fists. Just mind-numbing nothingness.
That’s where Nash found me.
“Tell me what’s going on, Mattie.” He planted himself in the chair next to the bed. “Something happened before your mom was taken to the hospital. Does it have to do with the letters?”
I met his worried gaze. “My entire life has been one big lie,” I said before bursting into tears.
He moved to sit on the edge of the mattress and wrapped his arm around me while I sobbed into his chest. He didn’t speak but simply held me, his presence and strength the only communication I needed. I don’t know how long we stayed like that, but when my weeping finally subsided into hiccups, he stood and returned with a handful of tissues.
I wiped my face, blew my nose, and took a deep, steadying breath. “The night Mama went to the hospital, she told me something... shocking.” I put my fist to my trembling lips, forcing myself not to break down again.
He didn’t ask questions but simply waited until I was able to speak again.
“Mama said Gunther Schneider is—” My voice cracked. I swallowed, hard. “He’s Mark’s and my father.”
The widening of his eyes told me he was as shocked as I felt. “Oh, Mattie. I don’t know what to say.”
I divulged the details of the brief exchange I’d had with Mama that night, Dad’s arrival that interrupted us before I could ask questions, and her apparent desire to keep our conversation secret.
“I don’t know what to think, Nash.” Despair washed over me. “I’ve never been close to Dad, but he’s always been my father. But now, knowing that heisn’t, things are starting to make sense.”
“Like what?”
“Like why he’s always been so distant and quiet. Why he never talks about his family. Why he and Granny Gertrude didn’t like each other.” I glanced at the picture of Mama and him standing in front of the farmhouse. “Everything I ever believed about myself was false. I have no idea who I am. And now, with Mama so sick, I may never know.”
The tears came again. Nash held me, letting me sob until I had nothing left. When the clock downstairs chimed, I realized it was almost noon.
“I should go to the hospital,” I said, sniffling. “It’s horrible to admit, but I don’t want to go. I don’t want to see Mama. I don’t want to see Dad. I just want to get on a bus or train or plane and go far away from here.”
Nash smoothed my hair. “You tried that once.” There was no judgement in his voice. Only compassion and honesty. “Sometimes we can’t run away from the hard things in life.” He turned my faceso our gazes met. “I’m here for you, Mattie. I’ll go through this with you. You’re not alone.”
I nodded, unable to tell him how grateful I was to hear that.
We drove to the hospital. Dad met us in the hallway outside Mama’s room. I couldn’t help but study his face, wondering. When and how had he come into Mama’s life? If he wasn’t my father, who was he, and why hadn’t Mark and I been told the truth?
“Dr. Monahan was just here. Ava’s a little better today, but they still have her on morphine.” He glanced into the room where my mother lay in a hospital bed, with tubes running beneath the blanket. “I don’t think she’ll wake up for a while.”
He looked and sounded worn-out. While I may not know who he was or how he’d come into our lives, I had no doubt that he loved Mama.
“I’ll stay with her,” I said. “You should go home and get some rest.”
He shook his head. “I can’t do that.” He glanced at Nash. “I’m sorry to leave you with all the work, but I need to be here.”
“I agree,” Nash said. “Don’t worry about me or anything else at the farm.”
I left them discussing care for the injured horse and walked into Mama’s room. Her face was pale and swollen, almost unrecognizable. “Oh, Mama,” I whispered.
