19-year-old Wendla Bergmann sighed softly as she watched her daughter, Ada, who was nearly four years old, play in the field by Wendla's friend Thea's house. Wendla and Ada had stopped by to meet Thea's new baby, Bertram.
"Is everything all right, Wendla?" Thea asked, moving a fussy Bertram to her other shoulder.
Wendla did not answer.
"Are you thinking about Melchior again?" Thea asked knowingly.
Wendla nodded. Melchior was Ada's father, who Wendla was not married to…yet. Wendla had gotten pregnant when the couple was just fourteen years old – her mother had left out some particularly important details about where babies come from when Wendla had asked. When she had gone to return Melchior's lost journal, one thing led to another and another led to Ada. Initially, Wendla's mother had wanted her to get an abortion, but Wendla had managed to convince her otherwise. This baby was all she had left of Melchior, as Melchior had been sent off to a reform school following Wendla's pregnancy and the death of his good friend, Moritz. With her mother's help, she was somehow able to finish school, but now devoted all her time to her daughter.
Melchior left the school at age eighteen and moved out of his parent's house and to the town next over. He had met Ada several times, had played with her – and she adored him. He knew who she was, but she did not know who he was. As she struggled to say "Melchior" she just called him by his nickname, "Melchi."
Melchior did not like this, and neither did Wendla. "She should be calling me 'Papa!'" He said, one day while Ada was napping, and it was just the two of them going for a walk.
"Don't you think I know that? But Mama says –" Wendla started.
"It doesn't mean a damn thing what your mother says!" Melchior said, getting angrier. "Ada's not your mother's daughter. She's yours. And she's mine." Wendla started to tear up.
"I'm…I'm sorry," Melchior's voice softened, and he reached out and stroked Wendla's arm. He sighed. "You two should come live with me. We can finally be a family."
"Wendla?" Thea's voice snapped her back to the present.
"What?"
"You should tell her. And the two of you can go live with Melchior. You'll be so happy all together."
"I want to…but Melchior and I aren't married. People will talk about us living together unmarried with a four-year-old child."
"When she starts school, she's going to put it together. You gave her Melchi's last name," Thea pointed out.
It was true. Wendla had insisted on it, although her mother was not too happy about that. Frau Bergmann had not wanted Melchior to see Ada or Wendla at all after the birth – or during the pregnancy, but Wendla had taken Ada to visit him at the reformatory a couple times and eventually at his house. He had not actually gotten to meet her until she was a whole year, but Wendla had told him all about her through letters and asked what he thought their baby's name should be. He had picked "Ada" and Wendla had chosen her middle name, "Lise."
Wendla imagined how hard it would be to discover such a thing in school. The teacher would call out, "Ada Gabor!" And Ada would enthusiastically raise her hand only to promptly put it down, as she remembered Mama was a Bergmann. But where did the Gabor come from? Suddenly, her little eyes would widen as she remembered the man who she and Mama sometimes visited. Melchior Gabor. Then she would think about how much she really looked like this man. She probably would not speak to Wendla for weeks. It hurts when your own mother keeps such important information from you. Wendla thought back in horror to that day at the doctor's when her mother told her she was going to have a baby in the first place. Wendla vowed then and there not to keep anything from her daughter.