Secrets She Kept (19 page)

“I can’t place my finger on it at the moment, but I remember something . . . something. Could it be about the bloodline?”

“It’s been researched. Herr Kirchmann is the descendant of Prussian nobility. I suppose we cannot ask for better than that,” Vater conceded.

“But the mother . . .”

“Austrian,” I offered quickly. “Frau Kirchmann came from Austria as a child with her parents.”

“Yes.” Dr. Peterson hesitated. “So she said. Although, I think we
 
—”

“It’s settled then.” Fräulein Hilde clapped her hands. “Wolfgang, my darling?”

Vater shrugged, hinting at defeat.

Fräulein Hilde smiled at me
 
—a genuine, victorious smile. “I think, my dear, that it’s time we planned a party.”

My heart dared to swell. But just as we linked arms to walk from the room, I heard Dr. Peterson speak softly to my father. “I’ll check. I’m not sure what it is, but there’s something, and I’ll find it.”

HANNAH STERLING

FEBRUARY 1973

The clock struck five thirty as I returned to the house. Grandfather was out, unusual in itself. I waited until six thirty, set places for both of us at the table, then heated soup left from the day before. He still hadn’t returned. Perhaps Grandfather had decided to dine out on the town in the company of Dr. Peterson or Herr Eberhardt. Who else might he know? Rarely had anyone else telephoned since I’d been here, and no others had visited. I waited until seven, ate, washed the dishes and cleared the kitchen, then checked the library door. Still locked.

Mentally exhausted, I slipped into bed at nine thirty.
What if something’s happened to him? What if he’s had a heart episode and gone to the hospital? How would I know? Who would know to telephone me?

An hour later I heard a car stop outside the house and the front door
unlock. I held my breath, waiting for Grandfather’s footsteps on the stairs. They came to the second floor, the tap of his cane helping him climb. But they didn’t stop. They continued up the stairs to the third floor and down the hallway. He stopped outside my room and waited.

The doorknob turned in the moonlight and the door opened slowly. My bed was in a darkened portion of the room. I knew he couldn’t see my face, but he peered in, glancing round, and strained to see me. I turned on my pillow, as if something had disturbed me, and he pulled back, softly closing the door.

Maybe he wanted to see that I was safely home.
Still, I lay awake until dawn.

I rose early and prepared breakfast at the accustomed time as on any ordinary day. I carried a tray with boiled eggs, toast, and coffee, knocking gently on his bedroom door. Whatever happened, it was better to get it over with than to cower in my room.

“Enter.” Grandfather struggled to a sitting position. “Hannah. Good morning. I am glad to see you.”

The uncertain relief I felt surely flowed through my voice. “I’m glad to see you, too, Grandfather.”
Should I be glad to see him?
I wanted my grandfather to be my grandfather, not a bounty hunter, and not someone who drove my mother away. Who was he?

I shook the fog from my brain. Now it was about playing the part, keeping the conversation going. Aunt Lavinia’s old adage tiptoed through my brain:
“You catch more bees with honey than with vinegar.”

“Did you enjoy your day yesterday?”

“Yes, I did. It was nice to get out for a bit. How about you? You were gone when I got home. Everything all right?”

“
Ja
, certainly. Why not?”

“No reason.” I shrugged. “I’ve just not known you to go out at night.”
It was the first time you’ve left the house since I’ve been here.

“I met with some friends, friends I’ve not seen in some time.” He eyed me suspiciously, which unnerved me.

“That’s nice.” I set the tray across his legs, but wouldn’t meet his eye. “It’s nice to get together with friends.”

“I suppose you miss your friends since you’ve been here.”

“A little. I think about my students mostly
 
—wonder how they’re doing, how the substitute teacher is managing.” I smoothed my skirt and opened the drapes, lifting the shade. The morning sun poured in.

“You boil the eggs precisely as I like them.”

“Good.” I smiled, but continued to stare out the window, summoning my courage.

“Hannah?”

“Yes?” Still, I didn’t turn.

“I think we should have a talk today.”

“Oh?”

“When I’ve dressed and shaved, I will meet you downstairs. Herr Eberhardt will come at ten and join us for this discussion.”

“Herr Eberhardt?” Dealing with Grandfather was one thing. He was older and frail enough that I felt certain I could hold my own physically and probably intellectually. But Herr Eberhardt was a different matter. He was a lawyer, for pity sake.
What do they want with me?

“We have matters to discuss with you. I believe you will not be displeased.” He sounded so confident, so self-assured. “We will speak in the library.”

The library? But you’ve kept me out of that room for days. Breathe, breathe, breathe . . .
“I’ll show him in.”

“Very good, and bring coffee, if you do not mind.”

“Of course I don’t mind.” I closed the door behind me
. “Coffee” doesn’t sound like anything dangerous is likely to happen. Carl, have we let our imaginations run wild? Please, God, help me. Help me understand what’s going on. Help me find out about Mama. We keep getting further and further from the point and the truth.

Herr Eberhardt arrived at ten. I showed him into the library, where Grandfather sat as if he did so every day, as if every day I’d been welcomed there and not locked out.

I assembled a tray with a steaming pot of coffee and thick, fragrant slices of an apple nut cake, warm from the oven, that Mama had taught me to make
 
—some combination of a cake she’d grown up with and one she’d Americanized. When I walked in both men stood, as if I were a lady and not a servant granddaughter. I didn’t know what to make of it, but lifted my head and smiled, nodding, doing my best to remain poised.

“Ah, you made this yourself, Fräulein Sterling? No wonder Wolfgang wants to keep you with him. You will grow fat on such luxury, my friend.”

“That I should live long enough to grow fat. There is no better way to do it.” Grandfather watched me with what looked like a mixture of pride and some amount of ownership. I tried not to rattle the cups and saucers.

“Well, neither of you have tasted it yet, so you’d best reserve judgment.” My teasing was lost on them.

“
Ja
, well, sit yourself, please, Hannah. Herr Eberhardt will explain our meeting.”

Definitely not a social call.
I sat across the desk from Grandfather, in the chair opposite Herr Eberhardt, and sipped my coffee.

“Your Grossvater has asked me to create a new deed for him, one in which he makes you co-owner of his property and its contents.”

I nearly dropped my cup.

“As you know, neither of his children are living, and you are the only child of your mother. This is correct, is it not?”

I could barely speak, but stumbled, “I am. Mama never had another. But I didn’t expect this
 
—truly.”

“Nein?”
Herr Eberhardt’s skepticism cut me.

“No.” I glanced from man to man. Not even Grandfather looked convinced. “This is most certainly not why I came to Germany.”

“Why did you come now, after all these years, Fräulein Sterling?” Eberhardt pressed.

“You know why. Because I only learned that my grandfather existed
after my mother passed. I wanted to meet him, to learn about my mother and her family
 
—my family.” I turned to Grandfather. “Is that what you think? That I came for your money?”

Grandfather raised his brows. “I did not say this. Only Herr Eberhardt is concerned. I told him you have agreed to stay, to care for me in return.”

“What?”

“That arrangement is not agreeable to you?” Herr Eberhardt prodded.

“It’s not that; it’s that I have a job waiting for me at home
 
—my home in North Carolina. I never intended this visit to go on as long as it has.” I felt like I’d been turned on my head. “Grandfather, we talked about this.”

“You promised to consider my request that you stay.”

“Consider, yes, but I didn’t promise to stay indefinitely.”

“I see.” Herr Eberhardt set his cup and saucer on the desk and reached for his attaché case. He pulled a sheaf of papers from the top folder. “Do you understand the nature of your Grossvater’s illness? That he has less than a year to live?”

“He’s been doing so much better.”

“Since you arrived,” Grandfather interrupted. “I feel stronger, more sure with you here, Hannah. I want you to stay. You can see that I need someone.”

“You said that Frau Winkler will return as soon as her family is stable.”

A tiny spark of caution and perhaps anger flashed through Grandfather’s eyes.

“We can all appreciate that the begrudging service of an employed housekeeper is not the same as the loving attention of a family member, particularly an appreciative heiress.” Herr Eberhardt pulled a sheaf of papers from his case. “Because your Grossvater lives simply and responsibly, you may not realize that he is also extremely wealthy.”

“No, I don’t know anything about his financial affairs and don’t need to. It’s not a question of wealth.”

“Perhaps more of family loyalty.” Herr Eberhardt was not a lawyer for nothing.

“If I agreed to stay, it would not be because of inheriting money,” I challenged. “And it wouldn’t be because I felt a need to prove my loyalty, but because I chose it.”

“I told you, my friend. My granddaughter knows her own mind and will not be purchased.”

“Thank you, Grandfather. I’m glad someone understands.”

“That is why I told him to make you co-owner. It is not a binding agreement to coerce you to stay. I am sharing my worldly goods with you, Hannah
 
—even now. They are yours to do with as you will. Only I will live in this house as long as I live
 
—as long as I am able
 
—and maintain a staff necessary for my comfort and wellbeing. All of the remainder is yours
 
—should be yours, now rather than later.”

“Grandfather, I don’t know what to say. I appreciate your generosity more than I can say, but I’m extremely uncomfortable with this. I don’t know if
 
—”

“If you wish to stay?” Herr Eberhardt broke in.

“Heinrich, Heinrich, do not push so. Hannah will decide in her time. You have the papers?”

“I did as you required, Wolfgang, but I must urge you once more to reconsider. By all means, rewrite your will to make Fräulein Sterling your heiress, but do not make her a co-owner. You could end up homeless and ultimately penniless if Fräulein Sterling decides to liquidate your assets now.”

Grandfather motioned for him to hand over the papers. “You forget that the needs of the old and dying are not great. I have confidence that Hannah will not see me neglected. Will you, my granddaughter?”

The walls closed in. “Grandfather, we must talk about this
 
—about all of it, about
 
—”

“Talking is done.”

“Rushing into this before talking it through is foolishness, Wolfgang. I beg of you
 
—”

“Where are my witnesses? You brought them?”

“Peterson refused to come, refused to be a part of it. I brought two clerks from my law office.”

“Call them in.”

Herr Eberhardt walked to the window and rapped on the pane. He motioned to someone, pointing round to the front of the house. “I’ll let them in.”

When he left the room I took my only chance. “Grandfather, really, we must talk things through. I don’t want you to do this against your lawyer’s better judgment. There’s no hurry
 
—no reason to do this now.”

“I am an old man, Hannah.”

“Then if you want to leave me something, leave me something that meant a great deal to you personally
 
—something about Mama. That’s what
 
—”

Herr Eberhardt and his two associates walked in at that moment.

“Talking is finished.” Grandfather pulled a pen from his middle desk drawer and signed the last page of the contract with a flourish. “I have set my seal. It is done. My witnesses?”

The two men came forward, signed their names, and Herr Eberhardt, his mouth in a grim line, set his seal.

My stomach dropped to the floor. I could barely comprehend what had just happened.
Have I been gifted or bought?

Herr Eberhardt motioned for his minions to leave. He folded the papers.

Grandfather sat back, smiling. “You will keep them on file for us?”

“Of course. But I fear you have done foolishly this day, my friend.”

“But we are still friends.”

“Friends,
ja
, but you have flaunted my advice as your attorney. That makes me angry.”

Grandfather shrugged. “That is unfortunate. Please close the door on your way out.”

Herr Eberhardt purpled like he might explode, cast me a scathing
glance, and shoved his hat onto his head. He grabbed his coat and attaché case and left the room without another word.

I rose to see him out.

“Let him go, Hannah. He knows his way, and we have much to talk about, to plan.”

“He believes I’ll abscond with your property.”

The front door closed with force, sending a gush of cold air down the hallway and into the library.

“He is . . . protective. That is all. He has guarded my privacy and finances for several years. He does not understand that your coming to Berlin is the most wonderful turn of events in my life. I believed I had no family, and you have come
 
—as one from the dead.”

It would be so easy to melt into this welcome, to let it swallow me up.

“You do not need to work
 
—not for the rest of your life, unless you choose to do so.”

The thought took me by surprise
 
—financial freedom. What might that mean? Travel? A home of my own here in Germany or, if I sold the house, perhaps a home in Winston-Salem? I looked around me. Everything in the room
 
—the mahogany desk, the marble-edged fireplace, the shelves of books, some even first editions if I guessed right
 
—could not keep me in sneaker tread the rest of my natural life. Either he was exaggerating or delusional or there was something I couldn’t see . . . something more than a man of his means and life experience as a government employee should have
 
—and that was what worried me.

“When I am gone
 
—I only ask that you stay until then
 
—you will be free to travel, to study anything you wish wherever you wish, to marry anyone you wish and live in any country of the world.”

“That sounds so lavish, too fantastic to be real, Grossvater.”