Clara looked down.
“My mother never told me any of this.”
“I doubt she knew how.”
That sentence felt familiar.
Mother continued.
“Afterward, life moved on. Miriam and I exchanged fewer letters. Then we stopped.”
“And then she discovered she was pregnant?”
“No. She already knew by then.”
Clara’s head lifted.
Mother’s expression sharpened.
“She simply had not told Thomas.”
“Why?”
“I can only tell you what she later told me.”
Clara nodded.
“She said she was frightened.”
Mother’s voice became gentler.
“She and Thomas had been separated for months. She saw him building another life. She told herself that informing him would pull everyone backward.”
“That sounds like my mother,” Clara said.
“I suspect it does.”
Mother gave her a sad smile.
“Years passed. When Thomas eventually learned the truth, he was furious.”
I had difficulty imagining my father furious.
He had been controlled even in anger.
