Her eyes were shiny with tears now. “She wanted me to take Ilese . . . to raise her as my own. It never occurred to me to say no. She had no one else. And she knew I would love her—love them—as my own. We were already a family. And we would go on being a family. She made the rabbi promise to act as witness, to make sure her wishes were carried out. When he agreed, she closed her eyes and let go.”
Marian put down the photo and blotted her eyes with her napkin. “I’m sorry to blubber. All these years later, it’s still hard to think of her.”
Ashlyn fought the urge to reach for Marian’s hand. “I can’t imagine taking on two children as a single woman. Was it difficult? Formally adopting them, I mean.”
She shook her head. “It wasn’t like it is now, with ten families vying for every child. The orphanages were full and the entire world was at war. The men were all gone and women had to go to work. No one was looking for a ready-made family—except me. The biggest hurdle was not being married, but Rabbi Lamm vouched for me and I found a good lawyer to help me navigate all the legal hoops.”
“How old was Zachary at the time?”
Marian folded her napkin carefully and laid it aside. “He’d just turned two.”
Ashlyn shook her head. “A toddler and a newborn. How on earth did you manage?”
“It wasn’t as hard as you might think. There was a terrible fuss when we came back to the States, of course. I made the mistake of returning to New York. No one knew who I was in California, but when I came back to the city, it didn’t take the press long to sniff me out. When they learned I’d come back from France with a pair of children in tow, they assumed I was married. When they realized I wasn’t and that the children were adopted, they created this myth that I’d gone to France specifically to rescue a pair of Jewish war orphans. The stories were ridiculous. To hear them tell it, I crawled through the mud with a bayonet between my teeth and liberated them from Drancy. Of course, I was driven to this selfless act of heroism because of the story in the Review—because I’d learned that my mother was a Jew. It was a complete circus. And completely untrue. But it’s hard to stop a train once it’s gotten momentum.”
“Your father must have been thrilled,” Ethan observed dryly.
Marian shot him the thinnest of smiles. “Not especially, no. Naturally, Corinne was livid too. The rumors about my mother’s death had just started to die down, and there I was, back in the news again with my poor Jewish orphans, resurrecting the scandal. Zachary and Ilese couldn’t understand what all the fuss was about.” Another smile, this one softer. “The papers made it sound like I saved them, but the truth is they saved me. I was so lost after the business with Hemi. Johanna and the children gave me something to care about, something to focus on besides my woes and the war.”
“And then after the war, you took the children to France?” Ashlyn said, still trying to fill in the blanks.
Marian fixed her with a pointed stare. “You are full of questions, aren’t you? Yes, we went to France—to Bergerac. My aunt’s health was failing and I wanted to go while there was still time. The children loved it there. They learned French and a little Yiddish and all about growing grapes. It was good for them—good for all of us. And of course, there was my work with the OSE. It was hard but rewarding.”
“Do Ilese and Zachary know they were adopted?”
Marian squared her shoulders as if miffed by the question. “Of course they know. I told them when I thought they were old enough to understand. I’ve told them . . . everything.”
Ashlyn picked up Johanna Meitner’s photograph again, studying it. “I can see Ilese in her. She has the same coloring and the same angular face.”
Marian’s eyes narrowed. “I wasn’t aware that you knew my daughter?”
“I don’t. But Ethan showed me some photos his parents had of the children. They’re with the cards and letters we brought back.”
Marian seemed to relax. “Yes, of course. I’m just finding all of this a little unnerving. People I’ve never laid eyes on until today know the most intimate details of my life. It’s as if someone’s been snooping in my diary, which I suppose you have. When I wrote those things, they were for Hemi’s eyes. I never imagined the books falling into anyone else’s hands, let alone having to explain any of it.”
“I know,” Ashlyn replied. “For what it’s worth, we never imagined we’d meet you face-to-face. It wasn’t until Ethan came across an old concert flyer that we figured out how to find Zachary.”
“He told me about that. Boston, I think it was. I wish he was still there, but he’s done so well for himself and he’s happy. No parent could ask for more.”
“And it’s wonderful that he takes after his father. Does he remember him at all, do you think?”
Marian blinked at her. “I’m sorry . . . what?”
“You said Janusz was a violinist. I wondered if that’s why Zachary decided to learn as well, because he remembered his father playing.”
“No. He doesn’t remember.” She lifted her glass then, draining the last of her wine. “He was too young and Janusz was always away. He remembers Johanna, though—or thinks he does. I used to tell them stories about her, usually at bedtime. I wanted them to know her, to know they had two mothers.”
“But no father,” Ethan pointed out. “Did you ever think of marrying?”
Marian dismissed the question with a wave of her hand. “I didn’t have time for a husband. I was too busy. And I didn’t need to be married. Between the children and my work, I had everything I needed.” She pushed back from the table then and checked her watch. “Look, we’ve talked the evening away. It’s after ten.”
Ashlyn stood and began gathering their empty glasses. “We’re sorry to have taken so much of your time. We’ll help you clean up and then get out of your hair.”
“No, no. Leave it for me. It’s not much, and the fog is already settling in. I’ll be awfully put out if you end up in a ditch. Go get your coats on. I’ll meet you in the foyer.”
They were buttoned up and ready to go by the time Marian reappeared carrying a bottle of wine. She handed it to Ethan, then pressed a kiss to his cheek. “La Famille Treves Sancerre—for the two of you to share. Lovely with cheese and fruit.”
Ethan examined the label. “This is from your family’s vineyard.”
“Your family too,” she reminded him. “Perhaps someday you and Ashlyn will go. Your French cousins would love to meet you, I’m sure.”
Ethan shot Ashlyn a lopsided smile. “Guess we’d better start brushing up on our French.”
“Don’t leave it too long,” Marian admonished with a hint of gravity. “Time has a way of getting away from you. Things happen, and before you know it, you’ve missed your chance.”
“All right. We’ll do it soon.”
She reached up to touch his cheek, letting her hand linger. “They’re good people, your cousins. You should know them. And Zachary and Ilese too. And the girls. Please say you’ll come back—both of you—and maybe stay a few days. I don’t want us to be strangers anymore.”