but didn’t reply.
My head spun. These kids could be relatives of mine. Had they seen in me the familiar features of someone else in the family? An aunt or a cousin? Did they recognize the unique tilt of my nose or the shape of my face from other relatives? I wanted to ask, to press it further, but at the moment they both seemed very unsure and nearly ready to bolt back inside.
I cleared my throat, trying to rein in my emotions and focus. “I’m looking for Marta. I heard she needed an assistant.” I felt bad, just a little, about my white lie.
The girl turned to the boy. “Did Mom say anything to you about needing help?”
He shrugged again. “No, but it makes sense, considering—”
The girl gave him a “Be quiet now” look. Then she turned back to me. “She’s not here.”
“Could I wait?”
The untied ribbons of her cap danced along her collarbone as the girl shook her head. She looked to be about fifteen, but her confident demeanor made her seem older.
“I’d wait in the car.” I spoke quickly. “Or I could come back in a little while.”
“How about if you leave your number? She can call if she chooses.” The girl squared her shoulders.
I tried not to let my disappointment show. There was no way Marta would call me. I decided to stall. “Sure. Do you have a piece of paper and a pen?”
The girl nudged the boy and he disappeared inside, leaving the two of us to stare at each other. He reappeared with the paper and pen, and I jotted down my cell number, writing beside it, Pennsylvania Certified Nurse-Midwife. I handed the girl the pen and paper. “Maybe you could put in a good word for me.” I hoped my voice sounded light but she frowned. “Thank you,” I said, wishing I were better at small talk.
They both said goodbye, grimly, as I climbed into the car. I waved as I started the engine. Slowly I shifted into reverse and then looked behind me. A black Toyota Camry pulled in to my right. A woman popped out of the car. She wore a cap and black cape and completely ignored me.
The girl said something to her and pointed toward my rental. The woman shook her head. I turned off the engine and climbed from the car. “Marta,” I said, stepping toward her. “I’m Lexie.”
Her eyes met mine, and in the space of a single moment I thought I could detect an entire parade of emotions rippling across her features: shock, joy, sorrow, fear. Blinking, she seemed to struggle for control. Then, slowly, all signs of emotion disappeared from her face, her eyes turning cold and hard. Watching her, I realized it was almost as if somewhere inside she had slammed shut a solid steel door.
Taking a deep breath, Marta crossed her arms at her chest and spoke, her voice betraying nothing. “I told Sophie to tell you not to come.”
“But I need to talk with you. I have a few questions—”
“I can’t answer them.” She dropped her hands to the sides of her body. There, in the late afternoon light, I couldn’t help but search for some sign of a physical resemblance between us. I was tall and slender and blond, and she was short and round, the hair under the cap on her head a sandy gray.
“Sophie said—” I began, but she cut me off with a wave of her hand.
“I’m sorry. You have to go. Now.”
Turning around, she began moving toward a small outbuilding. As she went I heard a buzzing, and then she reached under her cape, pulled out a cell phone, and answered it.
“Yes?” she snapped, pressing the phone to her ear.
I remained where I was, completely still and totally stunned. The boy and girl stared. The sunny afternoon took on a chill, and it was then I realized I was standing in the shadow of a row of fir trees. The shadow extended to the cottage as well, though not as far as the nearby chicken coop or the small outbuilding that Marta was marching toward now. Taking a step forward, I focused on that outbuilding and read the sign on its door: Marta Bayer, Midwife. That must be her office.
Oddly, she didn’t go inside but instead paused at the doorway, still speaking into the phone. Her tone sounded shrill, but I couldn’t make out the words. Was she talking about me? Telling some long-lost relative of mine to