Triad E-Book

Margot ten Pas

• Herausgeber: novum publishing
• Kategorie: Gesellschafts- und Liebesromane
• Sprache: Englisch

Seitenzahl: 444

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2025

Beschreibung

Living with the fact that you have relinquished a child, your own flesh and blood, not knowing where it is nor how it is doing. Living with the fact that you were abandoned by your own mother and then adopted by people who are complete strangers to you. Living with the fact that you are not the only mother of your child, but are actually raising someone else's child. Triad is the personal story of Margot ten Pas. In a sincere and eye-opening way, she describes the emotional journey as lived by the birthmother, the adopted child as well as the adoptive mother. The idealized image we generally have of adoption is conclusively rejected. After all, adoption is not a fairy tale. Adoption usually means living with hidden grief and silent pain.

Leseprobe

Any inconsistencies in the text are due to the fact that it was translated using computer-aided technology for a company-wide study.

© 2025 novum publishing gmbh

Rathausgasse 73, A-7311 Neckenmarkt

[email protected]

Dedication

to myself

to my mother

to my father

Introduction

The adoption novelTriad

Prologue

'A few months ago, no one had ever heard of her. Today her book is available in all bookstores.Happinez, LINDA, Libelle, Margriet, JAN… We can’t open a magazine or an article is devoted to her book. I am of course talking aboutMy Blood - Our Tears. A poignant novel that brings the theme of adoption back into the spotlight. Ladies and gentlemen, today she is our guest. I ask you to give a warm round of applause to Mia Vermehr!'

While applause thunders through the TV studio of55 Minutes with Raph, the light of the bright spotlight is directed at my face. Oh, dear God. In panic I realize that my face can now be seen in all Dutch living rooms. There's no lettuce between my teeth, is there? Doesn't my blouse shine through too much? And that one hair on my chin, that bitch that bravely lives its own life for several years already, would people be able to see it?

'Mia Vermehr, good evening and thank you very much for coming. I am delighted that you are here with us to give your very first TV interview.'

Raphaël de Groot's voice rudely takes me out of my thoughts. I keep my head still and turn my eyes to the audience as unremarkable as possible.

My goodness, what a lot of people.

Just a few days ago, his invitation had still seemed so nice to me. Exciting. A wonderful recognition of the result of all those months of hard work to get my words on paper.

But now, now that I am sitting in front of Raph - thé Raph from55 Minutes with Raph - on the famous frayed sofa and multiple cameras are pointing at me, I no longer think it's fun, or exciting. It is just scary. Terrifying. I wonder who on earth did come up with this silly idea. And I can hardly believe that I’ve been the one myself who agreed to this. It must have happened ina fit of insanity. I can't find any other explanation.

'Good evening, Raphaël,' I respond nervously.

'Mia,' he opens the conversation. 'You're not at all a writer by profession, and nevertheless I have a book in my hands with your name on it.'

I look at him expectantly. Does he expect me to respond?

'What a hell of a story.' To my relief he goes on by himself. 'How did you come to write this?'

Nervously, I pull a few frays from the flowered sofa. I roll them between my thumb and index finger into a small ball and take a deep breath.

'It was actually my husband who at one point came up with the idea that I should write a book about my adoption.'

Raphaël opens wide his eyes.

'That got me thinking,' I continue. 'For sure, it would bring out all the feelings that I had carefully kept deeply hidden until then. But it also could offer an opportunity to finally confront those feelings. No longer ignore them, but face them. How is it possible that you must turn fifty to come to that conclusion, isn't it?'

Wow, that just came out like that.

'Well,' Raphaël smiles understandingly, 'some things just take time.'

I nod in agreement.

Then he looks at me penetratingly. 'You're adopted.'

'Yes, that's right.'

'Your novel is based on true facts. I presume that the book is about your own personal story and that it's is autobiographical,' says Raphaël while he tilts his head slightly frowning his forehead.

I can feel the cameras zooming in on me. My tears try to find a way out.

'Um… um, the storyline of the adopted girl is… um… indeed autobiographical,' I stammer.

Shit, fucking tears. I don't want to cry. I breathe in and out, and again, in and out… A friend of mine once told me that he always concentrates on the word 'fries' when he wants to control his emotions. Fries, fries, fries… Fries, fries… Heck, it works.

'The book describes my own life story,' I resume, seemingly confident. Meanwhile, from inside, it feels like I’m drowning.

'Okay, so that's why the girl's storyline is written in the first person, and the other parts in the third person,' concludes Raphaël.

I smile. 'That would indeed be a logical explanation, but there is a more symbolic idea behind the use of the first person.'

'I'm curious. Tell me.'

'Unlike both moms, who both did have a say in the adoption process, the child was defenseless and had to endure everything, without having any influence on anything. As a revenge, the adopted girl is the first person in my book. Literally.'

'What a lovely thought, Mia.' Raphaël seems to think for a moment. 'So, if I understand correctly, the other two storylines describe the lived experiences of both your birth mother and your adoptive mother?'

'Yes, indeed.'

'One adoption story, described from three lived experiences… I think that's pretty unique.'

'From an academic point of view, much has been written about all three parties of the adoption triad. But the adoption novels - at least the ones I've read so far – are all written from the perspective of either the adoptee or the adoptive parents. And novels written from the perspective of the birth mother actually exist very few.'

Raphaël nods.

'I thought it would be interesting to weave all three perspectives together to create an overall picture of one and the same adoption story.'

My words come out smoothly now. All my nerves are gone.

Raphaël looks again at the book in his hands. 'I think that overall picture is also reflected by the fact that your story goes far beyond the adoption itself.'

'Yes. Adoption is not a process that only begins at the moment when aspiring adoptive parents submit their adoption request and then stops as soon as they come back home with a child in their arms. It is said that both the child and the birth mother become "lifelong". The blood bonds remain of course, but also emotionally they stay connected forever.'

'I never really thought about that,' says Raphaël. 'To my mind, the biological mom just disappeared from… um… the adoption stage, so to say.'

He takes a big gulp from the glass in front of him on the table. Automatically I mimic his gesture and take a sip as well. Water…

Actually, I need something stronger.

'What really affected me in your book,' continues Raphaël, 'are the moments when you let the very young child, or even the unborn child, get things told. I think that was very special. Very touching.'

'At birth, a child is not a blank page, as is often presumed. In the womb and after birth, babies experience a lot from their environment, much more than we think. Everything is stored. It is therefore very important to keep in mind that every adopted child carries the separation from his mother, as well as being entrusted to strangers, as traumatic experiences in his subconscious.'

'I was completely unaware of this,' admits Raphaël. 'Your book really changed my opinion about adoption.'

'A poor child of another race is saved and brought up by a wealthy white couple, and they lived happily ever after.' I smile at the cliché that I portray.

'Yes,' agrees Raphaël. 'Indeed, I always thought something like that.'

I nod. 'But as you can see by me, not all adoptions are interracial. And "they lived happily ever after" is generally an illusion. Behind the bright picture of adoption that reigns within our society, there is in reality quite often a lot of pain and sorrow hidden. But there is a taboo about admitting that. The ideal picture must be maintainedcoûte que coûte, at least for the outside world.'

'For the outside world?' echoes Raphaël with a frown.

'Yes,' I confirm his question. 'After all, the child is expected to be grateful that it ended up so well. Adoptive parents are supposed to feel happy because their long-awaited desire for children has finally been fulfilled. And the birth mother is presumed to "simply" pick up her life again.'

I have a quick look at the audience, to which I have become used by now. I see several pairs of eyes looking at me with interest, which gives me courage to continue.

'But in reality, things are significantly more complex,' I continue. 'My own experience shows that admitting that it's not all so wonderful takes away some of the pain and grief. Talking about the dark sides of adoption at least provides some emotional peace. That's why I would like to bring a somewhat more realistic picture of adoption.'

'That is great objective. And with this book, you're on your way.'

'I hope so.'

'The three lived experiences and the distinction between the first and the third person, the time period, the feelings and the words of the very small, and even the unborn child… It sounds like they were all deliberate choices. Before you started writing, did you already know how this was supposed to be?'

'Oh, no, not at all!' I shake my head. 'I didn't know at all what I was getting into. Not at all. And, if I had known, I probably never would have started. It has cost me a lot of sleepless nights. Because the ideas didn't come when I sat down to think about them. They came at night.'

Raphaël chuckles. 'Of course.'

'When I started, I was not bothered by any knowledge of writing techniques. But very slowly the story took more and more form. And eventually it grew into what it is today. It is definitely not a masterpiece, but that was not my objective.'

'Masterpiece or not, I’ve read your book in one breath. But much more important, it got me thinking about adoption.' Once again, Raphaël holds the book up in the air. 'I can only recommend everyone to readMy Blood - Our Tears.'

I couldn't wish for better publicity.

'Mia, is there anything else you want to say?'

'I would just like to add that I hope my book may contribute to raising awareness about the reality of adoption. However, this is the story of my own adoption. Every adoption is different and all adoptees, all adoptive mothers and all birth mothers have of course their own story, their own reality.'

'That seems like a nice conclusion, Mia. I want to thank you very much for coming.'

'I thank you, Raph.'

'Ladies and gentlemen, applause for Mia Vermehr!'

Chapter 1

On Saturday morning, Feb. 27, 1960, Joanna van der Laan woke up early and she felt different than usual. She slowly let herself slip out of bed and snuck into the bathroom. Taking a concentrated look at herself in the mirror, she saw that her breasts were clearly fuller than usual. That could only mean one thing.

Excited, she walked back to the bedroom and sat on her knees next to Gerrit on the bed. He woke up sighing. She unbuttoned her pajama jacket and sensually touched her breasts with her hands. Gerrit's growling soon changed into an approving hum.

'Mm, you can wake me up like that every day,' he remarked with a mischievous look in his eyes.

Joanna grabbed his hands and guided them to her breasts. 'Look! Touch! Don't you see anything? Can’t you feel anything?'

Gerrit looked intently at his wife's boobs. He gently squeezed them with both hands and then lovingly pulled her against him. But when he noticed her resisting, he realized that this morning would not take the turn as he had thought just seconds ago.

'I don't notice anything special about it,' he said doubtfully.

'But look, look, Gerrit. They are bigger! How is it possible that you not see that? And they are a bit painful, you know.'

He touched her breasts again and looked at them with frowning eyebrows.

'I know it for sure. I can just feel it. I'm pregnant! Finally, Gerrit. Finally!'

With a look full of consternation, Gerrit looked at his wife.

'Well, come back into bed, you two,' he said after a while, and then, with a broad smile on his face, he flipped open the blanket invitingly.

'I will make an appointment with Dr. Lobeek right away on Monday,' said Joanna as she went back under the covers. 'Hopefully he has some time available on Thursday morning.'

Gerrit took his overjoyed wife in his arms and lifted the blanket a little. 'Can you close your eyes for a moment?' he whispered to Joanna's belly. 'The images that mom and dad are about to broadcast are not suitable for babies.'

Joanna worked as a teacher of German at a high school in a popular working-class neighborhood in Almelo. Normally, every Thursday morning she helped children who needed some extra attention, but this morning only one child needed her attention. Her own.

When the alarm clock went off, Joanna was wide awake immediately. At a quarter past nine she was expected at Doctor Lobeek's office. Gerrit sleepily opened one eye and when he tried to turn around again, he got his ass kicked right away.

'Wake up! How is it possible that you want to continue sleeping? Get up. I have to go to Lobeek. I'll take a shower.'

'Well, then, I can stay in bed until you're done, though?'

Joanna knew he was right, but it irritated her that he was so calm while she herself was full of nerves and excitement.

After having changed clothes several times, she finally chose a loose dress. When she came downstairs dressed and dolled up, breakfast was already prepared. Gerrit had made tea and toasted two slices of bread for her, which he had topped with cheese and jam.

'How kind of you.' She looked at her husband gratefully. 'Sorry for snapping at you like that.'

'Doesn't matter, darling.' He gave her a reassuring wink.

Joanna could hardly eat this morning and suddenly she was overwhelmed with uncertainty. 'What if I’ve just imagined all of it?'

'In that case, you'll know at least if your blood pressure is okay,' remarked Gerrit.

A small laugh escaped against her will. They cleaned up the breakfast table together and Joanna waved Gerrit goodbye when he left for work. He was a company manager at a drilling company in Almelo.

'I'll come home at noon, okay? Then you can tell me what Lobeek said.'

'Okay, that's fine, Gerrit. See you then.'

Joanna arrived on time at doctor Lobeek's. His assistant noted a few missing details. Then she took a seat in the waiting room.

'I'm about to introduce you to the doctor,' she whispered with a smile, stroking her belly lovingly with her hand. She closed her eyes and listened to the ticking of the clock hanging on the wall above the door.

At 9:30, Dr. Lobeek called her in. The urine test confirmed what Joanna expected, and after a few routine tests, she was outside again. Relieved, she cycled back home happily whistling.

The clock in the living room had barely struck noon when Joanna heard a car door slam shut. She ran to the front door.

'Yoo-hoo, pregnant!' she shouted almost hysterically from the doorway as she ran radiantly toward her husband and fell into his arms.

Gerrit detached himself from her embrace and walked quickly back to the car. Joanna did not understand, but she did not have time to get angry, as she saw him getting a huge bunch of flowers out of the trunk. He held it triumphantly in the air. As she fell into his arms for the second time, tears of happiness rolled down her cheeks.

'I didn't dare taking them right away,' explained Gerrit between her sobs.

They stayed in each other's arms for a while longer. After nine years of engagement and three years of marriage, the sealing of their love was finally a reality.

Chapter 2

Although Joanna had the impression that everyone could see that she was pregnant, she thought it was far too early to announce the big news. First, she and Gerrit wanted to enjoy the little creature in her belly. She was a bit more sensitive to certain smells, but not at all bothered by the nausea that many women experience in the first few months. Apart from the occasional stabbing pain on the left side of her abdomen, she generally felt extremely well.

On Friday morning, March 18, Dr. Lobeek called early in the morning to tell her that he had received the results of the blood test. She was about seven weeks pregnant. Joanna used the opportunity of his call to mention that she sometimes had a little bit of blood loss. Lobeek reassured her. In the first 12 weeks of pregnancy, this was very common. He asked her to contact him as soon as the blood loss became more than just a 'little bit'.

'What do you think about telling the news already to our family?' asked Joanna that evening over dinner. 'After the sad time since the passing of my dad, it would be nice for mom to get some happy news again.'

'Good idea, dear. We can go to the Achterhoek on Sunday,' proposed Gerrit enthusiastically. 'Then we'll go to your mother first and then drive on to my parents.'

As Joanna closed the front door, Gerrit put the pastries they had bought especially for the occasion in the trunk of his gray Simca parked in front of the house. He waved cheerfully at the neighbors, who were busy weeding in their front yard.

'Something to celebrate?' asked Nanda curiously, gesturing to the white cake box.

'Yeah, um, no. Just in case we won't get anything to eat at our parents' house.' Gerrit laughed at his own stupid joke and closed the trunk.

'Have a nice Sunday.'

Joanna chuckled as they drove down the street. 'I think you almost gave the news away.'

'Almost.'

There was never much traffic on Sundays and the drive went smoothly. Gerrit hummed along exuberantly with the radio and turned his window open a little. The wind messed up his hair and he pulled a goofy face, making him look even more silly. Joanna also pulled a grimace.

'Poor kid. I just hope it won't look too much like its parents.' Gerrit chuckled.

'Oh, stop it, Gerrit!' Joanna laughed out loud. 'When I laugh this hard, I have to hold my belly.'

She already noticed that her body was changing because of the pregnancy. The long car ride had caused a somewhat nagging feeling in her lower abdomen. So, she was glad when they finally arrived.

Gerrit parked the car in front of Joanna's mother's house, who came walking toward them waving.

'Good afternoon, mother,' said Joanna.

'Hello, Anna,' said Gerrit at the same time.

'Brr, it's chilly out here in the wind. Come in quickly, guys. Jaap arrived too.'

Gerrit handed her the box of pastries and he walked together with Joanna into the living room.

'Hey, little brother of mine, wouldn't you kiss me?'

Jaap closed his book and jumped on his feet. He hugged his sister and gave her two kisses on her cheeks.

'I don't need a kiss, though,' reassured Gerrit jokingly his brother-in-law.

The men shook hands after which all of them took place in the cozy anteroom. As usual, both brothers-in-law drank a glass of lemon gin. Because of the alcohol, Joanna actually preferred to turn down the habitual glass of egg-liquor, but then her mother would probably suspect something right away. She didn't want to reveal the surprise. Oh well, one little liquor won't harm, she thought as she spooned slowly out of her glass.

'Come, time to go to the dining room,' said Anna after they had discussed the latest news from the village. 'I don't want the food to get spoiled.'

During the meal, Joanna grew increasingly eager to tell the news.

'Can you make coffee, Mother?' she asked once everyone had barely swallowed the last bite. 'Then I'll cut the cake. We can have it outside.'

Jaap put a small table and four chairs under the large apple tree in the middle of the backyard.

In summer, the leaves blocked the sunlight and it was a lovely, cool place to sit outside. But at this time of year, the sun was still shining through the branches so in the afternoon, it was already pleasantly warm.

When everyone had taken a seat and had a cup of coffee and cake, Joanna raised an eyebrow at Gerrit. They had absolutely no idea who of them would bring the big news. The moment that Jaap wanted to take a bite of his cake, Joanna stopped him.

'Wait a minute, Jaap, this is not just any piece of cake.'

Amazed, he held his saucer in the air and looked at his cake from all sides. 'I don't see anything special, though.' Again, he made an attempt to take a bite.

His mother tapped him on his fingers. 'Hey, can't you just wait? Your sister wants to say something.'

With a frown, Jaap looked from his mother to his sister.

'Yes, um… We want to tell you… um… something.' Joanna stammered blushing.

Anna looked at her daughter with wide eyes. 'Is it true?'

'What is true, Mother?' Joanna smiled. 'I haven't said anything yet.'

'Are you expecting?' she asked cautiously.

'Yes, Mom, I'm pregnant.'

Anna immediately stood up and took her daughter in her arms. Tears of joy rolled down her face. 'Oh, darlings, I am so happy for you.' Then she hugged Gerrit.

'Congratulations, Sis,' exclaimed Jaap enthusiastically. For the second time this day, he gave her two big kisses. 'You too, Gerrit.' He shook his brother-in-law's hand again and this time also gave him two brotherly slaps on the back.

When everyone had recovered a little from the emotions, they finally ate the delicious cake. Jaap thought that as a future uncle, he had the right to have a second slice.

'Ho!' Joanna called him to order. 'Leave some for Gerrit's parents! We will go there in a moment.'

After having taken the coffee cups to the kitchen, Joanna and Gerrit said goodbye to Joanna's family.

Half an hour later they stopped in Winterswijk in front of the house of Lidia and Jan van der Laan.

'My stomach's bothering me again.' Joanna sighed as she got out of the car. 'Those rotten stitches all the time.' She rolled her eyes shaking her head.

'Probably part of the pregnancy,' reassured Gerrit her. 'Take it easy. I'll help mom with everything.'

Gerrit's mother had already opened the front door and his father rushed out as well. After a warm welcome, they all sat down on the terrace behind the house in the sunshine. It was a lovely sheltered place facing south where you could quickly enjoy the warmth of the first rays of sunlight in spring.

Lidia brought a large pot of freshly brewed tea and poured it into the cups while Gerrit cut the cake and gave a slice to everyone.

'Wow, delicious. Did you get promoted, Gerrit?' asked Jan.

'Soon I will make the biggest promotion I could wish for, Dad.'

'Tell us,' insisted Lidia curiously. 'Did you get that job in Appingedam you were talking about the other day?'

'No. It's not about a new job, but I will soon get a more important task.'

'A more important task?' echoed Lidia in amazement.

'Yeah, soon he might be working in the evening,' said Joanna spontaneously.

Lidia looked thoughtfully from her daughter-in-law via her son to her husband.

'And on weekends and most likely even at night,' added Joanna.

'Are you in the loop, Jan?' asked Lidia with a raised eyebrow.

'Definitely not. You're not going to do any fieldwork, are you, Gerrit?'

'No. I'm going to be a daddy,' revealed Gerrit visibly emotional. 'And this beautiful woman here next to me is going to be a mom,' he added proudly. Then he placed his hand on Joanna's. 'And you, you are going to be grandparents, but I'm sure you already figured that out.'

'What a wonderful news,' said Jan as he swallowed away a lump.

'A grandchild,' exclaimed Lidia rapturously. 'Let me have a look at your belly, Joanna. Can you already see something?'

'No, not yet, Mother, look.' Joanna stood up and pulled her dress tight against her body. 'You can't see anything yet, but it's a little early for that. I'm not even two months pregnant. But we were so happy we couldn't possibly keep the news to ourselves any longer. However, our friends don't know anything yet and we haven't told anything at our work either. We prefer to wait a few more weeks. For the time being, you should not tell anyone either, okay?'

'We won't,' assured Lidia.

'You should not buy a crib,' announced Jan decidedly. 'I want to make that for my very first grandchild myself.'

Gerrit laughed. 'You have more than six months left for that, Dad.'

'Shall we go home, Gerrit.?' suggested Joanna at the end of the afternoon. 'It's been a tiring and emotional day. We still have more than one hour to drive back.'

'Yes, it's been a long day for you,' agreed Lidia immediately. 'Besides, you have to get up early again tomorrow. You better go. I'll give you some food so you won't have to cook tonight, dear.'

As soon as Joanna took the packages from her mother-in-law, she laughed out loud. 'Well, Mother, I guess I won't have to cook all week.'

During the drive back, Joanna and Gerrit realized that their baby was more than welcome in their family.

Chapter 3

'I prefer to get examined, just to be sure, Gerrit.' Joanna sighed the next Sunday.

'But you don't have that much pain, have you? I'm sure it's nothing to worry about. But if it reassures you, it would be wise to make an appointment with Lobeek.'

'Tomorrow morning I'll call his assistant.'

Joanna got an appointment for Wednesday afternoon, March 30. To her great surprise, the entire Monday went by without a single stitch in her abdomen. It seemed like with the appointment, the abdominal pain had disappeared.

'Maybe it's all just be in my head, Gerrit,' she remarked as they got ready for bed that evening.

'I think your body is trying to tell you to slow down a little.'

On Tuesdays, Joanna never started her classes until ten o'clock. She had already taken her bicycle from the shed at the back of the garden and walked quickly inside to get her coat and her bag. The moment she put on her coat, she cringed in pain. She tried to find some support against the walls of the narrow hallway, but her legs could no longer carry her weight. Slowly she collapsed to the floor and broke out in sweat. She wanted to get up to reach the phone, but it was impossible.

Suddenly Joanna saw that her dress was covered in blood.

'Oh, my god. My child! Help, help!' she screamed, then burst into tears.

Nanda, the neighbor, came running in through the back door. 'Jesus, Joanna, what the hell is going on?' she exclaimed horrified as she sat down next to Joanna and took her in her arms.

'My child, my child.' Joanna sobbed with great sobs.

Without asking any further questions, Nanda grabbed the phone and, in a panic, dialed the emergency number. Then she called Gerrit.'Come home Gerrit. You need to come home now. Now! Joanna… She… She's bleeding. Come quickly. Come!'

The moment Joanna was being carried into the ambulance on a gurney, she saw Gerrit driving up.

'My husband, there's my husband.' She could just barely manage to get out these words.

'Your husband will drive after us, ma'am,' tried one of the paramedics to reassure her, after which the ambulance drove away at high speed and with loud sirens.

'What exactly happened?' asked Gerrit the nurse, who came out of the operating room with a tired face. 'Can someone finally tell me what's going on?'

'I am not allowed to give any information, sir. The surgeon will inform you in a moment. Your wife has just been taken to the recovery.'

'And the baby?'

'The surgeon will be right with you,' apologized the nurse, then he left Gerrit in despair.

Worried, he sat down again on one of the little chairs placed against the wall in the hallway.

'Mr. Van der Laan?' A friendly voice suddenly sounded right next to him.

Gerrit jumped up.

'Lenselink,' introduced the surgeon himself. 'I operated on your wife. She arrived just in time. She shouldn't have come five minutes later.'

Gerrit pulled away pale.

'We had a hard struggle to save her life. But the danger seems to be over.'

'But what… What happened?'

'Well, your wife had an ectopic pregnancy. One of her fallopian tubes had ruptured, causing heavy bleeding in the abdomen. But fortunately, we were able to preserve the other fallopian tube. So, any future pregnancy is still possible.'

'Honey, darling. So, your worries were not in vain,' said Gerrit when Joanna was taken to her room in the afternoon. He stroked her tenderly over her hands.

For a moment she looked at him with an exhausted expression, but her eyes immediately closed again.

'Have some sleep first, sweetheart. I go home now. I'll come back in the morning.' He bent over Joanna and placed a kiss on her lips.

She smiled with her eyes closed.

Shivering through the cool evening air, Gerrit wandered across the hospital parking lot for long minutes. When he finally found his car, he laid his head on the steering wheel and let his tears flow. He cried silently until no more tears came out.

A week ago, everyone was still so happy, and now… Now everything was over.

Although the surgery had been tough, Joanna recovered quickly physically. Mentally, she needed considerably more time to accept the fact that she had lost her baby. In addition to her grief, she felt guilty that she had not been able to offer her child a safe place with her body.

All around, her friends got children 'just like that'. It seemed easy for them. Joanna was not jealous, but she also wished baby for herself. But even though they were diligently 'working' on it again, nothing happened.

In the years following the surgery, Joanna regularly saw the inside of the hospital. Up to three times, her remaining fallopian tube was blown through. Time passed. A pregnancy was not forthcoming, but hope remained…

During keyhole surgery in 1964, it was found that there were many deformities on the fallopian tube. Most likely these had been caused by blood left behind in the abdominal cavity during thelife-saving operation. So, the chances of getting pregnant, even with only one fallopian tube, were not as high as they had initially expected.

The gynecologist suggested Joanna to take the birth control pill. It was well known that if you stop taking this pill after about six months, you were more susceptible to get pregnant. Joanna was given Lyndiol 10, a strong pill with all its side effects. But the knowledge that this was only temporary and that it would significantly increase her chances of becoming pregnant kept her going.

As planned, after six months Joanna stopped taking the pill and then started filling in temperature charts to find out her most fertile days. Together with Gerrit, they continued 'working' full of hope.

Nevertheless, Joanna was thinking more and more about adoption. She was convinced that you didn't necessarily have to bring the child into the world yourself in order to love it. In fact, as a teacher, not once during her entire career she had thought of a child: I wouldn't have wanted this one myself.

'I don't know how long we can keep this up, Gerrit,' she said when she had called him once again to come home because it was 'the right moment'.

'Well, I don't mind at all spending my lunch break this way, you know,' joked Gerrit.

However, Joanna noticed that his eyes were not laughing. The pressure of having to get pregnant was beginning to become a real assault on their spontaneous love life.

'Have you ever thought about adoption?' she asked cautiously. 'We might consider that option.'

'Hm, hm.'

'No?'

'Hmm.'

Joanna decided to let the subject rest for now.

Chapter 4

The summer months of 1966 were exceptionally warm. Many guests were staying at the prestigious Golf Hotel at the Wörthersee. The beautiful L-shaped hotel, built in the characteristic Austrian style with its white walls, the woodwork in the ridge and the lush geraniums on the balconies, was very popular among wealthy tourists since many years.

For Martha Riewald, it was the first time she had managed to get a temporary job as a chambermaid at the luxury hotel. Her sisters Paula and Rosa had been working there for several years already. However, cleaning the many rooms and particularly making up the large number of beds was tough, and besides, the heat was beginning to break up.

To recover from the long day, Martha had sat down in the cool grass in the late afternoon. Gazing out over the lake, her thoughts were with her son, Bernd. Before going home, she wanted to visit the children's home. Since she had left him over there last January, she spent a few hours with him as often as she could. It saddened her that she had not been able to offer her son a better home. She had definitely imagined motherhood very differently.

Four months before his birth, Bernd's father, with whom she had marriage plans, had been killed in a car accident. After her parental leave, when she had to return to work, her mother had proposed to take care of the little boy. But after Christmas, when he started crawling and had become a lot heavier, the daily care became too much for her mom.

Martha could not afford to remain without any income and saw no other choice but to place her son in a children's home. Fortunately, her mother was willing to pick him up every now and then for an afternoon. It was certainly not an ideal situation, neither for Martha nor for Bernd, but at least the boy regularly spent some time together withhis family. Until another solution would present, Martha could resign herself to this situation.

She was startled out of her thoughts when she noticed that her boss, Walter Burghof, had come to sit beside her in the grass. She estimated him to be in his early fifties, nearly thirty years older than she was. He looked impressive with his imposing stature, his dark brown, stylish hair, his well-maintained mustache and his stern yet kind dark eyes. From the corner of her eyes, Martha tried to observe him as inconspicuously as possible. This man was so much more than she was. Startled that she was shamelessly studying him, she quickly turned her eyes back.

She didn't quite know what to make of the situation. Between her lashes she peered at his hands, which were resting on the grass right next to her. They were well-groomed hands, and from his ring she deduced that he must be married. This made it feel even more uncomfortable that he was sitting so close to her.

'Beautiful place, isn't it?' interrupted her boss the uneasy silence.

Martha nodded. To avoid any eye contact, she kept her head bent down slightly.

'Are you waiting for your sisters?'

This time she shook her head.

'Well, I have the impression that you don't appreciate my company. I better go back and continue my administration then. What a rotten job. I believe I'd rather change beds.' Grinning, he stood up. 'Have a nice Sunday, Martha. I look forward to seeing you again on Monday.'

Martha was left perplexed. Her boss had just come and sat down next to her for a chat. Next toher, the girl who cleans rooms, the girl who makes up beds, the girl who mangles sheets, the girl who is insignificant, the girl who is nothing…

She looked over her shoulder and just saw him walk into the hotel. No, she hadn't dreamed. I really don't see this man changing beds, though, she chuckled to herself.

With a broad smile, she walked to the bus.

When Martha walked into the hotel the following Monday, she planned to greet her boss with a vigorousgrüß Gott. But to her disappointment, she found Wolfgang. She politely greeted her boss's assistant and quickly started with her work. Today she only had to be in the laundry room to mangle all the sheets and fold the towels.

She was totally absorbed in her work and even forgot to take a break. Only when she felt her stomach growling, she looked at the clock. It was already two o'clock.

Quickly she walked to the changing room where she kept her bag and went outside with her lunchbox to find a place in the shade. Chewing on herLeberkässemmel, her gaze was caught by the sailboats on the lake. She tried to imagine the lives of those who could afford the luxury of gliding across the water on such a beautiful boat just by the force of the wind.

When she saw Walter Burghof coming her way again, she choked on a bite of bread. Instead of her intended firm greeting, she only let out some gasping coughs. He quickened his stride and patted her firmly on the back. Tears poured down Martha's cheeks. She didn't know whether it was because she was almost choking, or because her boss stood in front of her again.

'Do I look that creepy?' he asked, laughing.

She laughed herself and suddenly looked straight into his eyes. 'Good afternoon, Mr. Burghof,' she managed to bring out coughing and blushing as she tried to dab her eyes dry. 'I wasn't expecting you. I thought you were off today.'

Martha was startled. Was she just chatting with her boss?

'Indeed, I'm actually off today, but I didn't finish the administration until the end of the morning. Fortunately, the manager hadn't arrived yet when I put it on his desk. But enough about me. How was your weekend?'

'I didn't do much of anything, Mr. Burghof,' she responded shrugging.

Walter raised his eyebrows. 'You really don't have anything to say about your weekend?'

Martha wondered if perhaps he was referring to her visits to the children's home. Would he know about her son?

'I helped my mom with some household chores,' she quickly said.

'With so many women at your place, that should not take too long, tough?'

She shook her head. 'Rosa and Paula were with friends at the lake, and Helga and Gerda, my two oldest sisters, no longer live at home. They are married. And Jutta, my youngest sister, she never really has to do anything. I don't know why.' Martha heaved a sigh.

Walter looked at her silently.

'You know, our father never came back from the war. Jutta has a different father. Maybe that's why my mom treats her differently from us,' she entrusted to him. Martha wondered again that she was talking openly to her boss. Why did she tell all this to this man that she barely knew?

'I'm sorry to hear about your father,' said Walter sincerely. 'During that time, many dads never returned home. The war has destroyed a lot of families. My father did survive, but he died of severe pneumonia not long after the war, and a few weeks later my mother died as well. Within three months I had lost both my parents.'

Martha saw that he was trying to swallow away a lump in his throat.

'But let's not talk about such sad things,' he continued. 'Why didn't you go with Rosa and Paula to the lake? With this nice weather, you should enjoy the water. In a few weeks, it will soon be too cold.'

Martha did not want to tell him that her sisters usually excluded her as they thought she wasn't interesting. She also didn't telling him that in her spare time, she always went to see herlittle boy. An unwed mother, what would he think of her…

'I can't swim very well,' she twisted around the truth, looking at her watch. 'Oh, my goodness, I'll work a little longer tonight.' She quickly jumped up and smoothed her apron.

'Don't worry about the clock, Martha. With all those times you start too early and don't stop until much later than scheduled, it's okay to take a longer break now and then.'

'Thank you, Mr. Burghof, but I don't want to take advantage of that.'

'Don't worry. You are doing a good job. I only get positive feedback about you from our guests. I hope you'll come back and work here again next summer.'

Martha blushed, baffled by this compliment.

'And by the way, my name is Walter, you know. You really don't have to call me "mister.". Rather not even. It makes me feel so old.'

'Bye, Mr. Burg… Bye, Walter.'

'See you, Martha.'

Feeling cheerful, Martha went back to work. What a nice man. She mangled the rest of the sheets while humming, then she began folding the towels. She worked quickly and even before it was five o'clock, she had finished her work. Satisfied, she took off her apron, put her stuff in her bag and got ready to go home. This day had flown by.

As she walked toward the exit of the hotel, she didn't see Walter anywhere. He had probably already gone home. She wished Wolfgang a good evening and walked quickly to the bus stop so she could still catch the 5:30 bus.

Chapter 5

In the past few weeks, Martha had regularly spent her breaks with Walter. Because of the sincere interest that he showed in her during their conversations, she lived fully towards these moments. His attention gave her strength. In front of her sisters, who never missed an opportunity to humiliate her, it pleased her that she had obtained a privileged position with her boss.

Mid-August, the peak season was slowly coming to an end. By now it was a lot quieter at the hotel and some of the seasonal staff had already left. Tuesday, August 23, was Martha's last day of work at the Golf Hotel. When she had finished work that afternoon, she wistfully packed her bag. She had not seen Walter all day, and the idea of leaving without saying goodbye to him saddened her. She looked at her watch. It was already past five. She had to hurry if she didn't want to miss the 5:30 bus.

'Oh, thank God, you're still here,' she heard behind her as she walked outside. Walter came running up. 'I was afraid I wouldn't see you anymore,' he continued out of breath. 'The manager called me this afternoon. He wanted to discuss the planning for the post-season. I thought he would never let me go.'

Martha nodded and glanced again at her watch.

'I was convinced you'd still be here until the end of the month,' continued Walter. 'But I just saw that today was your last day.'

'Yes, that's right.' Martha smiled. 'In September I start at Cap Wörth. But I really have to go now otherwise I'll miss my bus. I have an appointment over there at six o'clock to pick up my working clothes.'

Walter looked at his watch in turn. 'You'll never make it. I'll drop you off with my car.'

In that small space of the car, Martha suddenly felt a little uncomfortable. Silently they drove in the direction of Velden. Cap Wörth was situated right after Auen, just before the bend on the south shore of the Wörthersee.

'I'll wait here for you,' said Walter as he parked his car in the parking lot of the youth hostel. Gallantly he helped Martha to get out of the car. Their arms slightly touched a moment. It gave Martha a strange tingling in her lower abdomen.

'We could have a drink somewhere to finish your last day at the Golf Hotel with a festive touch. I pay.'

Without answering his question, she walked a bit confused toward the entrance to Cap Wörth, and less than ten minutes later she came back with a bag full of clothes that slung over her shoulder.

'So, are we going for a drink, or would you rather want me to take you home?'

'I actually have to go home. My mom always wants me to get home right after work.' Martha looked doubtful for a moment, but then shrugged her shoulders. 'Oh well, today was my last day. I'm sure she'll understand if I'm a little late. I just say that I had a drink with the other girls on my goodbye.'

In Auen, Walter turned right toward Schiefling. It was a small, rather steep and winding road that became more and more narrow. At one point, they had a beautiful view of the Wörthersee between the trees. Walter parked the car and got out. Then he helped Martha out of the car and in silence they watched the breathtaking view for a long time.

Suddenly Walter slapped an arm across Martha's shoulders. 'It's really not at all appropriate to celebrate your last day,' he softly said. He pulled her further toward him. 'It doesn't feel very festive that you won't be at the hotel anymore from tomorrow. I will miss you.' He pulled her completely against him now and gently pressed a kiss to her lips.

Martha relaxed in his arms. It had been a long time since anyone had embraced her like that. Walter's strong arms aroundher felt safe. She wanted him to never let her go. But suddenly she became aware that she was in the arms of her boss. She immediately stiffened.

'Relax, Martha. Since almost one hour, I'm not your boss anymore,' he teased with a wink.

She let out a smothered laugh.

'You shouldn't underestimate yourself this way. You work hard. You are thoughtful. You are kind. You are sweet and don't forget, you are terribly pretty. How is it possible that you doubt so much about yourself?'

Martha felt her tears welling up and she blinked frantically. He could not know what his words meant to her, what it did to her that he believed in her.

'I didn't want to make you cry,' apologized Walter.

Again, he kissed her, now intimately and long. She could do nothing but answer his kiss. With a week feeling in her knees, she felt like she was floating. They both forgot about the beautiful view. They only had eyes for each other.

Entangled in each other's arms, they walked half stumbling to a more isolated spot, a little further down the road under the trees and out of sight of the road. Carefully Walter spread his jacket out on the ground in front of them and sat down. He pulled Martha toward him and let his hands slide slowly over her body. Gasping for breath, she moved toward him. He looked deeply into her eyes and gently touched her lips with his fingers. It should have been nothing more than a touch, a caress, but as if by itself it became more.

In his dark eyes Martha saw desire, but also tenderness and adoration. Stunned that this man was looking at her so longingly, she lost all sense of reality. Slowly he bent over her and for a moment they did not move. Intensely enjoying the moment, she finally wrapped her legs around him to pull him even closer. He had penetrated deep inside her. She held him tightly, hoping this moment would last forever. As she felt the muscles of hisbody tighten, a wave of pleasure engulfed her as well. The tension between them that had been slowly built up over the past few weeks was finally discharging. How good this felt.

But how wrong it was…

As she slowly slipped back into reality, it was only then that Martha fully realized what had happened. How could this have happened? How could she have let this happen? She didn't know how to deal with the situation, and she could tell by his evasive gaze that Walter was not comfortable either.

'Dammit,' he growled pantingly with a voice still a little hoarse from excitement. 'This should never have happened. You mustn't talk to anyone, Martha. No one must ever find out about this. No one. Never. Do you promise me that?'

'Yes, um… I understand,' stammered Martha. She sought Walter's eyes.

He looked at her silently, almost reproachfully.

Lost in thought, they returned to the car, meanwhile trying to smooth their clothes as best they could.

'Don't ever talk to anyone about this, Martha,' repeated Walter again. He passed his hand over her face leaving his index finger demonstratively on her lips for a moment.

When Martha got home, everyone was already sitting at the kitchen table. They had just started dinner. Her mother put her cutlery demonstratively down on the table and she looked at Martha disdainfully. Her sisters also stopped eating, but her stepfather ate on imperturbably. Martha's gaze went to her empty chair, but she didn't dare to just sit down.

'Where do you come from so late?' barked Josefa Riewald. 'You're never this late. I could have used a little help with the cooking.'

'Rosa and Paula could have given a hand,' responded Martha cheekily. 'Why doIalways have to do everything here in this house? And why does Jutta never have to do anything?' She was really on a roll now and she was surprised that she had the guts to bite off like that. 'Today was my last day atthe Golf Hotel, but you surely forgot about that. After work I picked up my clothes at Cap Wörth, and then had a drink in Velden.'

'Had a drink in Velden,' repeated Paula her sister's words in a mocking tone. 'A drink with the boss, you mean. I did see you both leaving together, though. What are you getting into?'

Martha looked furiously at her sister.

'Yes, indeed, Martha, what are you up to?' commented Rosa. 'I also have seen you regularly together lately.'

'What?!' called out Josefa as she raised big eyes. Martha, you're not telling me you had a drink with your boss in Velden, are you? What was that man's name again? Burmann, Burfeld, Bur…'

'Burghof! Walter Burghof from Pörtschach,' said Paula. She squeezed her eyes to slits and looked at her sister viciously.

Martha, as usual, felt cornered by her sisters. 'You guys are just jealous,' she bounced back spitefully.

'Is it true what your sisters say about you, Martha?' asked her mother in disbelief.

Martha nodded.

'Are you out of your mind? Girls like you don't hang out with their boss. Do you hear me?'

She nodded again.

Her sisters seemed to enjoy this moment. Martha felt deeply hurt. She may have lied a little to her mother, but why couldn't they just keep their mouths shut, wondered Martha sadly.

'And you two, you are sitting there stupidly chuckling, but this goes for you too, Rosa, and for you, Paula.' Josefa pointed a raised finger at her daughters.

Martha drew strength from Walter's encouraging words which were still buzzing in her mind. Determined to face the situation this time, she went on the attack.

'I had missed the bus, Mother. Walter took me to Cap Wörth so I was still in time to pick up my clothes. He's really kind, you know, and he's very pleased with me. Next summer I can work at the Golf Hotel again. And as it was my last day of work, Walter offered me a dri…'

'Walter, Walter, Walter,' interrupted Martha's mother her. 'Shame on you! He's your boss, Martha. For you, it's "mister Burghof", young lady. And Rudi! Rudiger, please say something. You also think this is unacceptable, don't you?'

Rudiger looked up startled when his wife asked for his opinion. He nodded absently. 'You're absolutely right, darling.'

He had come into Josefa Riewald's life a few years after the war, when as a widow, she was alone raising five daughters. At home, he preferred to stay out of everything. Even with Jutta, their daughter, he interfered as little as possible. Raising children was women's work.

'But, Mother, he told me himself to call him "Walter" and not "mister" or "sir",' sputtered Martha as tears sprang to her eyes. 'He says he feels so old if I call him "Mr. Burghof". Really, Mom, you must believe me. I really didn't call him "Walter" on my own initiative.'