Page 100 of The River We Remember

As Charlie mounted the porch steps, the screen door swung open, and she saw J.P. standing in the light. She’d seen him at his father’s funeral, but not up close, and she was amazed at how much he’d grown. What had once been just the willowy look of a kid was filling out with the definitions of the man he was becoming. He probably would never reach the full physical stature of Jimmy Quinn, and he didn’t have his father’s Irish look either. He more resembled his mother and the dark southern Germans from whom she was descended.

“Evening, Miss Bauer,” he said.

“Hello, J.P. I wonder if I might speak with your mother.”

“Sure. Would you like to come in?”

“Any chance she might be willing to come out? I’d like a private talk.”

“I’ll get her.” He paused a moment, as if wrestling with something, then he said, “Thank you for helping Noah. No way was he responsible for what happened. He stood up to my father, but he didn’t kill him.”

“How do you know that?”

“Because I know Noah. Because I trust him.”

He left her and Charlie settled in the porch swing, where she’d sat so recently with the girls. What a lovely memory that was, of the burned cinnamon bread and the making together of another loaf. The screen door opened quietly, and Marta joined Charlie on the porch. Only the day before, her husband had been buried, but to Charlie she looked surprisingly well. There was color in her cheeks and light in her eyes. She still walked as if she were made of fragile elements, and when she sat beside Charlie, she did so with care. She looked to where the line of trees that marked the Alabaster had turned hard and dark against the powdery blue that was all the light left to Black Earth County. Crickets chorused in the yard. The heat of the day had given way to a cooling breeze, and the stars as they emerged were like tiny, solitary ice crystals.

“I love summer nights,” Marta said with a sigh, as if she’d already greeted Charlie and they’d been talking for hours. She settled against the back of the swing and smiled dreamily. “I have taken my medication,” she said. “It makes me woozy.”

“I hear it’s been a hard day.”

“We’ve had our share of those lately. I want to thank you for helping my girls the other day. They told me of your kindness.”

“It was my pleasure, Marta.”

“They also told me that you wanted to speak with me. About Noah. Is that why you’re here?”

“Yes. I’m sorry for the late hour.”

She waved it off. “I will be fine for a while. What would you like to ask me?”

“How is it that you came to be married to Jimmy?”

“Ah.” She closed her eyes as if gathering her thoughts. “Some women marry for love. The lucky ones, I have always thought. The rest, we marry from necessity.”

“Would you tell me about it?”

“That was a long time ago.” She smiled in a dreamy way. “I was just a girl, really. I came because there was great trouble in my homeland. Hitler. We were not Jewish, but my parents were both academics and outspoken, and so we were all at risk. My mother’s cousin was Jimmy’s first wife, Gudrun. She was very ill and needed help taking care of her husband and children. It was seen as a way to ensure my safety and also help the family here. So I came. Just sixteen at the time. I didn’t even speak English. Gudrun died a short time later. And a few months after that, I married Jimmy.”

“Not out of love, I take it.”

“It was marry him or go back to Germany, where things were much, much worse. Communication with my family had ceased. After the war, I learned that they’d all been killed. I was alone with Jimmy.” She smiled. “There was Patrick, of course, who’d come early in the marriage. He was a godsend.”

“Terry and Fiona? What about them?”

“They left as soon as they were able. Married and left. Jimmy was not an easy man to live with.”

“I have something I need to ask you, Marta. It’s difficult but it has to be done.”

“Go ahead.”

“When you first came from Germany to help with the children, Gudrun was very ill, you said.”

“With the same disease that afflicts me. The doctors say there may be a hereditary factor.”

“A man has needs. As a woman, you know that.”

Marta waited. If she’d been less sedated, she might have tensed, but as it was, she simply remained silent. Until she said, “Yes.”