Page 77 of All We Thought We Knew

All I could do was stare at her. The woman I’d known my entire life suddenly seemed like a stranger. “I can’t believe you never told me about this. Why did you keep it a secret?”

Tears pooled in her eyes. “I don’t have a good answer to that question. I suppose it was because it was my past, and I didn’t want to burden you or Mark with it. Granny didn’t have family, and even though she didn’t show it, I believe she loved you kids.”

A sense of betrayal lurked inside me despite her rationalization. “Why tell me about it now?”

Sadness washed over her face. “Because I won’t be here much longer, and I don’t want you to discover things—about me, about your father, about yourself—without explaining them.”

I wasn’t sure what she meant and was about to ask when the sound of the back door closing echoed through the house. It was probably Dad and Nash, coming in for supper.

Panic filled Mama’s eyes. “Mattie, take the album to your room. I don’t want your father to see it.”

“Why?”

“Please, just go.”

I didn’t question her again and hurried across the hall to my room as Dad came up the stairs. “I’ll be down to start dinner in a minute,” I said, using the door to keep the album out of sight.

“Nash is going into town, so it will just be us. We can keep it simple. Maybe pancakes or sandwiches.”

“That sounds good.”

He disappeared into the master bedroom while I hid the album under my bed, next to the box of letters.

Mama’d been married before she met Dad!

I felt completely blindsided by her revelation. But now with the mystery about the first bundle of letters solved, my curiosity about the second packet from someone named Gunther Schneider rose exponentially. Who was he and how did he play into the startling history unfolding?

I arrived in the kitchen as Nash poured dry dog food into Jake’s bowl. He’d changed into a crisp, white button-down and wore a pair of jeans with shiny black boots I’d never seen before.

“You look nice. Got a date?” I joked.

He didn’t smile. “Naw, just meeting a friend in town for dinner.”

“Dad’s letting me take the night off since you won’t be here. Pancakes or sandwiches.”

He nodded. “I won’t be gone too long. Do you need anything from town?”

“Nothing I can think of.” I glanced down the hall to make sure Dad hadn’t come downstairs without me hearing him. I lowered my voice. “When you get back, I’ve got some crazy news to tell you about the letters and Mama’s past. And we need to go through the other letters, the ones from the guy named Gunther.”

“Sounds like a plan.” He grabbed his denim jacket and left the house.

I heard his truck roar to life as I got out the ingredients for pancakes. Jake whined at the closed door as Nash drove away.

“He’ll be back soon,” I said. “Then we’ll both get to spend the evening with him.”

While I poured batter onto a hot griddle, I realized I looked forward to Nash’s return nearly as much as Jake did.

TWENTY-THREE:GUNTHER

CAMP FORREST, TENNESSEE

MAY 1943

Gunther’s hands were covered with wet, white plaster when Major Gridley found him in the back room of the dispensary. The soldier who’d come in with a broken arm a short while ago had talked nonstop from the moment he stepped through the door, even while Gunther took X-rays, set the bone, and led him to the back where plaster supplies were stored in a cabinet next to a large porcelain sink. Topics of his one-sided conversation ranged from the war overseas to the young woman he met at the USO in town. He never paused long enough for Gunther to reply before he moved on to a new subject.

“Sure am glad I didn’t break my leg,” he said, laughing. “Wouldn’t want some other fella to steal my gal. Say, did you know—”

“Ahem.”