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“Do you know anything about grandpa and the camps? When he went? What it was like?”
“What’s gotten you so curious?”
“Grandma’s gone. He’s all I have left of our family, other than you and Dad. I wish now I had gotten to know her more. You know, like who she was before as a person, not as my grandmother. Isn’t where we came from kind of important? Our family history? I’ll never have a chance to talk to her about it now, to see how she felt about things and what made her who she was before meeting him.”
Tears filled her mother’s eyes, but she blinked them away and cleared her throat. Setting her mug on the table, she said, “Yeah. That makes sense, but keep in mind, you’re only eighteen. You’re supposed to be engrossed in being a teenager and all that comes along with it. You’re not expected to be interested in your grandparents as people. Or your parents, for that matter. You should see us as ancient, old-fashioned, and unrelatable. That’s totally normal. You don’t start appreciating the adults in your life until you’re off on your own. I hope you’re not beating yourself up about this.”
Her mother reached out, placing a hand on Abigail’s knee and giving it a quick squeeze. She gave her a half-hearted smile, like the energy it took to curl her lips was too great.
“I’m not. But I’m not really normal, am I? Not like most of my classmates. I don’t go to parties, and I’m not particularly involved in school or extracurriculars. My weekends have mostly been spent here, with us, with GG and grandpa. Only occasionally do I go out with Cammie, so...I don’t know.” Abby shrugged. “I feel kinda selfish, like this whole time I never bothered to truly get to know the people I spend most my time with. I don’t want to miss out on another opportunity with Grandpa, especially with such significance in his past. Not everyone has that.”
Plus, she had a secret to solve, a journal to read.
“Well, I’m not sure I’ll be of much help. What I know about his time in Auschwitz is what your grandma told me, what he confided in her when they met, plus a few things here and there we gleaned over the years. As I said, he didn’t volunteer much. It’s not in his nature, and I’ve come to accept that, for the most part.”
“Has he ever, maybe...I don’t know...” Abby picked at a cuticle. “Written about it?” she asked, peeking up at her mother from beneath her lashes.
“Not that I know of.”
“Like in a journal?”
“I think I’d know about it if he had.” Her mother laughed. “You know your grandmother. If she had access to something like that, she’d have shared it with the world.”
Which begged the question why she hadn’t?
“Would he get upset if I asked him about it?”
Her mother picked her mug back up, running her finger over the rim while she spoke. “I remember doing a project once in history class. I’ve never seen someone shut down so fast—like a steel shutter closing. He hates talking about it. What I know is that he grew up in Krakow, and when they began to liquidate the ghetto, they rounded everyone up, thousands of thousands of Jews and sent them to the camps. Your grandfather left with his mother, father, and two sisters, I believe,” she said, her voice uncertain. “They killed his whole family immediately. He somehow managed to stay alive almost two years before they were liberated. When he left there, he was beyond despair. He had no one left. Nothing.”
“How’d he come here?”
“Following the war, the government slowly tried to recoup stolen Jewish properties and possessions that had been pillaged. Your grandfather was one of the lucky ones. His father had owned a business, but he wanted none of it. He sold everything and immigrated, leaving it all behind. He couldn’t stand being there, alone. I imagine it was too painful, nothing but reminders and ghosts of a life once lived. Of course, I’m partly assuming how he felt.”
Abby gazed out the window, filing this information away as a cardinal floated onto the birdfeeder perched above the azaleas. She watched it bend over, flap its wings, and feast off seed before turning and staring straight at her. Its tiny black eyes blinked below a tuft of red. The bird cocked its head, as if in recognition, and Abby’s heart fluttered in response.
Hadn’t she once heard that dead loved ones often returned to you in comfort as a brightly colored bird?
Something her mother said came to mind as she stared. “You said something about a fundraiser today? That grandpa didn’t have to go?” she asked, unable to take
her eyes off the bird. It leaped onto another branch, even closer to the window.
“Yeah. He got worked-up when he found out your grandmother had some fundraising event planned for today, and I insisted we go. It’s for the museum. I think it’s what got him all riled up about staying here. So, it looks like it’ll just be me.” Her mother sighed, then stood. “In fact, I should probably get ready.”
“I can go with you if you want,” Abby offered, though she wanted to do anything but.
Please say no. Please say no.
“That’s okay. Maybe you should get out of the house.”
Abby’s eyes widened, her surprise fighting for precedence against her relief at the rejection of her offer. Before GG died, her mother would’ve insisted she go. Family first. Abby had grown up with this constant reminder of where their priorities lay. Any time one of them had any sort of plans, even if it was simply to take a dip in the pool, Abby had been expected to be there. No questions asked. Her friends could wait. High school football games could be attended the following week. Movies with Cammie could be seen any time, and sleepovers could be postponed.
“Actually, wait a minute. I almost forgot.” A small smile formed on her mother’s lips as she rummaged in the pocket of her robe. A jingling sound came from her hand as she pulled a set of keys from her pocket, then stepped forward and placed it in the palm of Abby’s hand.
“I was actually thinking about it this morning before anyone else woke, then I got distracted with your grandfather. I wasn’t going to give this to you for another week or so, but I suppose there’s no point in waiting. GG’s car is yours. She wanted you to have it. Maybe you can take it for a spin? Pick up Cammie? Go somewhere?”
The color drained from Abby’s face as she stared down at the key. GG had loved her little yellow bug.
“But... Couldn’t grandpa sell it?”
