Page 103 of All We Thought We Knew
My stomach churned, and my appetite bolted.
I pushed the plate away, offering Nash a look of apology for not finishing the meal he’d prepared. “I’m afraid to finish reading the letters. I don’t even know what to hope might be in them. Mama already admitted Gunther Schneider is my father. Do you know what that means? She wasn’t married to him when she became pregnant with Mark and me.”
He nodded. “I understand that, but the letters might tell you more of their story.”
I blew out a long breath. “I can’t believe any of this is happening. First Mark is killed, then Mama is sick. Now I find out that my entire life has been a sham. We’re not the happyfamily I always thought we were. It was all smoke and mirrors, as they say.”
Nash placed his hand on top of mine. “Mattie, think about how great your life was growing up. About how much your mom loved you and Mark. About how hard your dad always worked to provide for his family. None of the things you’re learning about them now changes any of that.” He squeezed my fingers then stood. He stacked our plates and carried them to the sink. “As long as I’ve known your folks, I’ve seen what good people they are. Give them a chance to tell you their story before you make a final judgement about things that happened a long time ago.”
The truth of his words helped to calm my anxious heart.
I needed to know the entire story. No matter how much it might hurt or frighten me.
I heaved a sigh. “All right. I’ll go get the letters.”
While Nash cleaned the kitchen, I went upstairs. A glance at Mama’s darkened room reminded me that although I was angry with her for keeping her past a secret, I wished she was home, in her own bed.
Nash and I settled on the sofa.
I opened the next letter.
“July 1944. Dear Ava,”I began, suddenly struck that I was reading words my father—myrealfather—wrote to my mother from a prison camp in North Dakota.
My throat tightened, and I swallowed hard.
I wish I could tell you that I am well, but a terrible thing has happened. Dr. Sonnenberg and I were attacked by—
The next words were blacked out.
I am slowly recovering, but my friend is very ill. He has become like a father to me, and I don’t know what I will doif he doesn’t make it. I have spent many hours praying for Dr. Sonnenberg. He believes in the same God as I do, and our study of the Bible has made him curious about Jesus. He is especially impressed with the writings of the Apostle Paul, a Jewish man like himself. It is my hope we will once again enjoy our theological discussions as soon as he is able.
I think of you often. Memories of our time together are the only joy I have in these long, lonely days.
Yours affectionately,
Gunther Schneider
I stared at the name. “Gunther Schneider,” I repeated. “This man, this stranger, is my father.”
“He seems like a man of faith.” Nash leaned over to read the faded handwriting. “Memories of our time together are the only joy I have.It sounds like he cared about your mom. I wonder who attacked him and his friend.”
I refolded the yellowed paper and returned it to the envelope. “Maybe the next letter will have more information.”
Headlights from a car flashed across the window.
I hurried to look outside. “Dad’s home.” I glanced at the shoebox, remembering Mama wanted it to remain a secret from him. Until I had more information, I didn’t feel I should confront him. Especially not when he’d spent a long day at the hospital with Mama. “I better put this away. We can read the others later.”
When I returned downstairs, Dad was in the kitchen, filling the kettle with water. I heard Nash’s voice outside, instructing Jake to do his business before turning in for the night.
“How’s Mama?” I asked from the doorway.
Dad turned weary eyes to me. “A little better. Dr. Monahan hopes she can come home by the end of the week. She’ll need an IV for pain medication though.”
He took a cup from the cupboard. “Do you want some tea?”
I shook my head. “I think I’ll turn in.”
But I didn’t move.
