“Yes, of course,” says Monsieur Haddam. He blinks at us. “It is why she came here. She was with child. You did not know?”
Alain turns to stare at me. “Did you know this?”
“Of course not,” I say. “It’s . . . it’s not possible. My mother wasn’t born until 1944.” I turn back to Monsieur Haddam. “And my mom didn’t have any siblings. My grandmother couldn’t have been pregnant in 1942.”
He pauses and stands up. “Excuse me for a moment,” he says. He disappears into his bedroom, while Alain and I go back to staring at each other.
“How could she have been pregnant?” Alain asks.
“Well, she and Jacob were in love . . .” Henri says, his voice trailing off.
Alain shakes his head. “No, absolutely not. She was very religious,” he says. “She would never have done such a thing.” He glances at me and adds, “Things were different in those days. People did not have relations before marriage. Certainly not Rose.”
“Maybe Monsieur Haddam is remembering wrong,” I say.
But when he emerges from his bedroom a moment later, he’s carrying a photograph, which he hands to me. I recognize my grandmother immediately; she looks just like I looked when I was sixteen or seventeen, and her head is wrapped in a scarf. She has one arm around a dark-haired, smiling boy and the other around a middle-aged woman.
“That is my mother and me,” Monsieur Haddam says softly. “And your grandmother. The day she left. The last time I ever saw her.”
I nod, but I can’t seem to speak, because I can’t look away from the bulging belly in the photograph. There’s no doubt that my grandmother is pregnant. She gazes into the camera with wide eyes that broadcast extraordinary sadness, even in grainy black and white. Alain sinks down beside me on the couch and stares at the photo too.
“She knew that if she was taken to one of the camps, she would be killed as soon as they found out she was with child,” Monsieur Haddam says softly after a moment. “She knew she had to protect herself in order to protect the baby. It was the only reason she let Jacob separate her from her family.”
“My God,” Alain murmurs.
“But what happened to the baby?” I ask.
Monsieur Haddam frowns at me. “You are certain that the baby was not your mother?”
I nod. “My mother was born a year and a half later to my grandfather, Ted, not Jacob.” I turn to Alain. “The baby must have died,” I say softly. Even saying the words aloud horrifies me.
Alain hangs his head. “There is so much we do not know. What if she does not wake up?” he murmurs.
His words send me hurtling back from a past we can’t understand to a present we can’t control. But we can control whether we leave for the airport on time. I look at my watch and stand up.
“Monsieur Haddam, I’m sorry, but we have to leave,” I say. “I don’t know how to thank you.”
He smiles. “Young lady, you do not have to,” he replies. “Knowing that Rose lived, and went on to have a happy life, is thanks enough for a million years.”
I wonder, in that moment, whether my grandmother’s life was happy. Had she ever let go of the sadness she must have felt when she believed she’d lost Jacob and her family forever?
“Please,” Monsieur Haddam says, “tell your grandmother that I think of her often. And that I thank her for helping me to believe in finding love. She changed my life. I will never forget her.”
“Thank you so much, Monsieur Haddam,” I murmur. “I’ll tell her.”
He kisses me on both cheeks, and as I follow Alain, Henri, and Simon back out to the street to hail a cab to the airport, I find myself wondering whether this is why Mamie sent me here. I wonder whether somewhere deep down, she wanted me to hear the story of her first love, and of the lost child she gave everything to protect. I wonder whether I’m supposed to learn something about love from all of this.
Or perhaps it’s too late for me. Alain and I are silent on the way to the airport, both of us lost in our own worlds.
Chapter Sixteen
Anise and Fennel Cookies
INGREDIENTS
2 cups sugar
4 eggs
2 tsp. anise extract
3 cups flour, plus extra for rolling
3 tsp. baking powder
1 tsp. salt
1 tsp. anise seed
2 cups confectioners’ sugar
1 Tbsp. fennel seed
DIRECTIONS
1. Preheat oven to 350 degrees.
2. In a medium bowl, using a hand mixer, beat sugar, eggs, and anise extract until well blended.