Echoes Page 0,61

asked hopefully, and Beata shook her head.

“No, they're not.” She didn't tell her mother she had converted when she married Antoine. Maybe hearing that would be too much for her. This was enough. And then her mother surprised her with what she said next. She assumed correctly that Beata had converted. She had somehow thought she would, once she married Antoine.

“Maybe it's better that way, with the way things are these days. The Nazis are doing terrible things. Papa says they'll never do it to us. But you never know. Don't tell anyone you were Jewish. It would take them a long time to find the records. If you're a Christian now, stay that way, Beata. You'll be safer that way.” It was a powerful thing for her mother to say. And then she looked at her daughter with worried eyes. “What did you tell the children about me?”

“That I love you, Papa didn't want me to marry Antoine because he was French, and we were at war. I said his family felt the same way about me. The girls were shocked, but I think they understood.” As best one could. It was a big bite, and tough to swallow, but Beata thought they had.

“Did his family ever see you?” Beata shook her head. “How did he die?”

“A riding accident. His father had died two weeks before.” And then she smiled. “I'm a countess now.” Her mother smiled, too.

“I'm impressed,” she teased, with a sparkle in her eye. And with that, the girls came home, and walked cautiously into the room. They looked at the woman they knew was their grandmother, and saw the smile that lit up their mother's face. She introduced Amadea to her first, and then Daphne, as her mother sat looking at them with tears rolling down her cheeks, and she held out both hands to them. “Please forgive me for how foolish I have been. I'm so happy to meet you both. I'm so proud of both of you. You're so beautiful,” she said, dabbing at her eyes with a lace handkerchief, as the girls slowly approached. Daphne thought she looked nice. And Amadea wanted to ask her questions about why she had let her husband be so mean to their mother, but she didn't dare. She thought she looked like a good person. She cried a lot, and their mother did, too. And as they all drank tea together, and talked, they realized that she reminded them a lot of their mother. She even sounded like her. They had a lovely time together, and finally Monika stood up, as Daphne looked at her with interest.

“What are we supposed to call you?” It was a sensible question for an eight-year-old. Amadea had wondered about it too.

“Would Oma be all right?” Monika asked hesitantly, glancing first at them and then Beata. She hadn't earned it, but it was an endearing term for grandmother. “I'd be honored if you'd call me that.” Both girls nodded, she hugged them both before she left, and then held Beata in her arms. They couldn't get enough of each other.

“Will you come again?” Beata asked softly as she stood in the doorway.

“Of course,” her mother answered. “Whenever you like. I'll call you in a few days,” she promised, and Beata knew she would. She had always kept her promises, and Beata sensed that she still would.

“Thank you, Mama,” Beata said, and hugged her one last time.

“I love you, Beata,” her mother whispered, kissed her cheek, and finally left. It had been an extraordinary afternoon, for all of them.

After her grandmother left, Amadea came to find her mother. Beata was sitting alone in the living room, lost in thought.

“Mama?” Beata looked up with a smile.

“Yes, sweetheart. What did you think?”

“I think it's sad that she was gone for so long. You can see that she loves you a lot.”

“I love her too. I'm just glad she came back, and that she got to meet you.”

“I hate your father for what he did to you,” Amadea said in an icy voice, and her mother nodded. She didn't disagree with her, but she didn't hate him. She never had, although her father had caused her untold grief, as he had her mother. His decision to banish her had taken a huge toll on them all, and probably him too, although he would never admit it. But he and Beata had always been close. It had been a huge blow to him when she left.