author's note...now I seem to be doing these 2 chapters at a time! Thanks, again, for all the lovely reviews...and I will be back on the weekend with more updates!

The Truth

"It was 1990. We were in New York for an interfaith meeting, the first vacation we'd had in years. Our parents were watching the children. We met her – Naomi's – parents at one of the talks about a possible Jewish-Christian meeting of minds, and found them to be quite interesting. He was a rabbi, and she was a housewife, so it was like we were mirrors to each other. We met for lunch after the meeting and discussed the meeting, then children, family and home as we got to know each other."

Mother laughed.

"In fact, we had such a good time, we decided to meet again for supper that evening. Miriam, the wife, insisted we come to their house to eat, have a real Jewish meal. Of course we accepted." She sighed. "And there we met Naomi."

Father took over, seeing Mother's eyes clouding. He took her hand in his, and squeezed it tightly, then spoke. "Naomi, your birth mother, was a shock to us. Here were her quiet, peaceful parents. We'd seen pictures of her brothers, who were studious and quiet looking young gentlemen, married, with their own children. And then comes in this girl, a teen, with a bright red Mohawk, too tight jeans and a t-shirt with I still don't know what on it that made her parents wince. She had a Walkman on, and it was blaring music. And there, in a baby carrier on her back…was a small baby."

"Me," I said.

"You," Father agreed. "Red-faced and screaming, waving those tiny fists of yours as if to protest the music and dancing. And our baby agreed."

Time seemed to fall still. "Your baby?"

Mother nodded. "We can explain it, in the story. Please, just let us tell it. It…" She looked down, lips trembling.

"All right," I agreed, leaning into Xavier a little more.

"Miriam and Ben looked suddenly ashamed as she came into the room, and Miriam waved to the girl weakly. The girl yanked off her earphones and snapped, 'Yeah?" like her mother was a nuisance. Miriam gestured to us, and said they had guests. Naomi looked at us, looking us up and down, and choked back a laugh. 'So it's going to be a religious meeting for supper, is it?' She took the baby off of her back, handed it to Miriam and said, 'I'll be back late. Don't wait up,' and left out the front door. Just like that."

Even years later, Father's eyes were fiery with rage, and Mother's lips tight with disgust.

"Miriam apologized deeply to us," Mother continued, "and wouldn't take our apologies for coming at a bad time. 'Naomi has had a bad attitude for years now, and the baby hasn't helped her at all. If only Jacob…' But they didn't go on with that, instead taking us to the living room to sit while Miriam finished the meal. I took the baby from her arms as Eric, your Father, held ours, and found myself asking if I could come help her in the kitchen, at least keep her company. She accepted readily, and led me to this beautiful plum colored kitchen rich with the smells of foreign foods. And we talked about children…hers and mine. She asked after my baby, and found out she was the same age as her daughter's baby. For some reason, that delighted her, and we traded baby tales as if we were both mothers of same-age babies. And a way we were, for Miriam had more to do with the raising of that baby than her daughter ever did. 'She picks the baby up when she wants to, and leaves all the work to me but for nursing. If she could pass that to me, she would,' she said bitterly."

I didn't know what to say. I felt kind of numb as the tale spun on.

"So I asked her who Jacob was, and she looked down and murmured something in Hebrew before looking up with saddened eyes. 'Naomi's husband. They married young, at 17, when they insisted they were in love and would run away if we wouldn't accept their relationship. A few months later, she had baby Mona, Rimona. All was well for a couple of months…until Jacob vanished one day. No note, no explanation, just gone. A month later, they found him. He'd been robbed and killed on his way back from work. Naomi closed herself away at that, wouldn't go to the funeral. A few weeks later, she'd cut her hair, dyed it, and was wearing this punk look she has now. She's rude, she curses, she eats all sorts of unclean foods, and she won't act like a responsible widow and mother. I…think she's been seeing other men. I don't know. She locks her room now, and the baby sleeps in one of the guest rooms.' I looked at this broken woman, this sad mother, and felt pity."

"After supper," Father said as Mother broke off to wipe her eyes and compose herself, "The Myers drew us aside to talk, to invite us to stay at their place for the rest of our trip. When we made excuses, they wouldn't hear of them. Miriam talked us into it. 'As parents of seven young ones, you need to save all the money you can. We have more than enough room, and, quite honestly, we'd love the company. We can compare notes after classes, we can trade recipes, and, goodness knows, a baby can use extra hands for caretaking…'

Mother nodded. "I looked at the baby in her arms, the baby that was even then reaching for me to hold her again, and I couldn't resist. That baby, as well as her grandparents, had won my heart."

"I couldn't turn down this change to get to know these people," Father agreed. "We could teach each other so much about our faiths, by example and by talk. And I was just as charmed by baby Mona as Annie was. So we accepted, and I went to pack and check us out while Annie helped get the other guest room ready."

"We had a great time with Miriam and Ben," Mother began. "But in that time, we found out just how terrible Naomi was as a mother. I woke up the first night to hear Mona howling, and ran to see her lying in a filthy diaper. Miriam was close behind me, but not one peep did we hear from Naomi. I saw Naomi striking the baby another time, just for reaching up to pull at her earlobe. When I tried to talk to her, she sneered, said something I couldn't hear, and shoved the baby at me before leaving."

"Suffice it to say, we didn't get to know Naomi but as a bratty, willful and neglectful mother," Father said, lips tight.

Mother looked up then with the most haunted eyes I'd ever seen on her, and she told the next part in a raspy whisper that chilled me down the spine.

"It was night, late in the evening. I'd come to change the babies, to sing to them if they were fussy, just like usual. I still don't know why it happened. There she was in the crib, my Ruth, a still, quiet shape, not moving. I touched her, and she held so little warmth. I found myself screaming. Miriam ran into the room, saw my baby, and ran to hold me. Then she looked again, with a resolute expression, and said, 'No, no, Annie. It's okay. That's not your baby. That's Mona.' I said Ruth was wearing the yellow jumper, and Mona the pink, and she said she'd had to change them both, at different times at night, and hadn't seen the difference in colors. But she insisted the yellow jumper on the dead baby was Mona's favorite jumper, bought by her great-grandparents Schwartz."

Mother looked at me with those haunted eyes.

"Ruthie, at that young, you two could have been mistaken for twins. You both had blue eyes and fine, curly blonde-brown hair. So when she said it was he daughter's child that died…I believed her. I consoled her, then, and held the baby I thought was mine. And the next day, after the interfaith meeting had concluded, we went home with you, promising to write to the Myers, to talk again. But we never did; after a week, when I called, the number was wrong. The cards we sent to them came back Addressee Unknown. And it wasn't until we saw your eyes turning brown that we realized what had happened."

"And you didn't try to find them again?" I asked.

"Of course we did! We tried for three years, until we received a letter from the Myers. It told us to leave them alone, that they didn't know us and they didn't want any more mail from strangers… So we let it drop. By then, you were such a part of the family, we didn't want to try and send you back to a family that quite clearly didn't want you. You were Ruthie, our darling baby girl, and, as far as everyone knew, you always were."

I didn't know what to say. To hear them tell it, they'd rescued me from a terrible mother, and taken me from grandparents, who, once rid of me, didn't want me back. I'd grown up in a loving house, with six and then eight brothers and sisters, and a dog. I didn't want for anything…

"So, if she was such a bad mother…why does she want to talk to me? Why was she looking for me for 20 years? How did she know I was missing from her life?"

Father shrugged. "I don't know. As I said, they cut contact from us. Perhaps losing the baby did something to Naomi. Maybe she recognized the baby wasn't hers, and they shut her up. I have no idea. All I know is what I told you."

"So, has it changed things between us?" Mother asked weakly.

I looked at her, and, for the first time ever, realized why her smile always seemed so fragile. She had the ghost of a lost child behind her, and the knowledge that I, her youngest daughter, was actually the daughter of someone else. Perhaps she had fears, for all of these years, of Naomi coming to take me back. I went to her, put my arms around her, and said, "You are my mother. You may not have given birth to me, but you raised me with as much love as if you had given birth to me. I came here angry that you hid this from me, but now I can understand why you did it. I love you, Mother, and I always will."

She smiled weakly, then burst into happy tears. I held her tightly, as Father came to hold her from behind, and found Xavier behind me as well.

"And now what?" Father asked a little while later, once we'd all composed ourselves.

I looked away, not knowing how to put it, then looked back. "I have to go to her. I have to let her know she was right. I have to help her heal."

"I understand," Mother said, and sounded like she meant that. "If I'd lost a child for that long, then found she was alive, I'd want her to come to meet me."

"Will you tell the others?" Father asked.

"I don't think so," I said, after thought. "I mean, I can't see a reason why I should. In the ways of the heart, I am their sister. Why change that now?"

"What if you come to have a relationship with Naomi?" he pressed.

"If that happens, then I suppose I would have to tell the others. But not until then. It would be too much for now. I don't know her. I have her side, and your side, but since they clash so, I need to put them together to understand the tale. I'm sorry," I said at Mother's startled look. "I didn't mean to imply you didn't tell the truth. I know you did. I just need to hear her side of it. Why she was such a bad mother. Why her parents did what they did. Why they kept us apart. It doesn't make sense, and won't until I hear her side of things."

My parents nodded, a bit reluctantly. "I understand. So, when are you going?"

"In a week. I want some serious time with my real family before I meet her."

That helped, and we left the office laughing and smiling.

"So!" my siblings all asked, waiting in the entry hall.

"We can't hear a thing through that door," David said with a grin.

"No, we aren't getting married yet," I said, rolling my eyes.

"We were discussing religious matters," Father said, which was technically true considering how the story had begun.

"Oh," Mary said, turning and leaving.

The crowd broke up, leaving me with Xavier and my parents. I hugged them both, then pled the need for a nap before retreating to my room. Luckily, Shannon was out with friends and I had the room to myself.