flirted with you. I caught the two of you whispering together more than once. She wouldn’t tell anyone who the baby’s father was, yet she named it after you. What other conclusion could I have drawn? Did you both think I was an idiot?”
Again, Mammi tried to speak, but she had become so worked up that all she could do was sputter and cough instead. As Ada and Ella jumped to her aid, James addressed the whole lot of us.
“Why don’t we all calm down, have a seat, and do this the right way?” he asked in a voice so soothing that everyone seemed compelled to do exactly as he suggested. Even Klara obeyed, watching warily as Zed and Alexander rounded up three straight-back chairs from the rest of the small house and brought them to the living room. Once Mammi had recovered from her coughing fit, we all sat, with Klara, Marta, and Alexander taking the chairs, James and I on the couch with Ada next to me, and Ella and Zed seated on the floor. After we were settled, we looked to James to learn what would come next, and again I was deeply grateful for his presence.
“I think before we go any further, we should just pause for a moment and take all of this to the Lord in prayer,” he said, his voice still soothing and warm. We bowed our heads, and though I expected him to pray aloud, instead he remained silent beside me as was the Amish custom. Though my brain was too frazzled to pray myself, by the time he said a gentle “amen” a minute or so later, the quiet and focus had served to calm me significantly. It seemed to have done the same for everyone.
“Okay,” James said. “As a first step, let me just say that I think it’s time for Lexie and Ada to learn the truth. The whole truth. That’s why I wanted all of us to assemble here.”
“But they don’t—” Klara began.
“They already have pieces of the truth,” he continued, cutting her off, “which has been making things difficult for everyone. Trust me when I say that bringing all of this out into the open will be a relief, both to the people trying to put their stories together and to those who have been keeping secrets.”
Silenced, Klara pressed her lips together. Everyone else was quiet.
“So, Lexie,” James said, turning toward me. “Why don’t you tell us exactly what it is you want to know?”
I took a deep breath, let it out slowly, and then spoke.
“Who my birth parents really are. And Ada’s. Why I was given up—and Ada wasn’t. What Burke Bauer has to do with all of this. If Alexander is my father and, if not, why I was named after him. Why I was born in Montgomery County instead of here. Why my parents told me that my birth family loved me when obviously they—” I looked up at the faces surrounding me and corrected myself. “When obviously you didn’t.” I stopped abruptly and then added, “I guess that’s everything.”
“But we did love you,” Marta whispered. “I did.”
I met her eyes, ready to contradict her, but something in her expression made me realize that she was telling the truth.
“More importantly, Giselle loved you,” she continued, standing. “She loved you more than she ever loved anyone.”
“So why did she give me away? Why did you let her?”
Marta faltered, looking toward Klara. I looked at Klara as well, but she was staring intently at the floor now, arms crossed stubbornly over her chest. As my question hung in the air, unanswered, Marta slowly sat back down.
“Let me guess: It’s not your place.” I couldn’t help it, my voice dripped with sarcasm.
“All right. Let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” James told us. “Ada, now it’s your turn. What would you like to know?”
Ada grabbed my hand, and I could feel her tremble. Giving her a brave smile, I nodded, urging her with my eyes to go ahead and say what she was thinking.
“I do not…I have fewer questions than Lexie, of course. I just want to know who my birth mother and father were. Are.” Looking at me, she added, “And I want to know why I was denied my sister. For my whole life. Who had the right to take her away from me, and why?”
She squeezed my hand, not letting go.
“Very good,” James said, giving Ada an encouraging smile before again addressing the group. “Well,