'There's a reason we wanted to get all you boys together tonight, before the funeral on Saturday and before you have a chance to accidentally happen on the information. I was going to tell you all at once, but this might be better.'
'You're scaring me, Mom,” said Ben.
Harry sat up in his chair, closed his eyes and took a deep breath, then let it out slowly. “Okay, lay it on me,” he said.
'You have a sister,” Mavis blurted out without preamble.
'What!” Harry screeched.
'No way,” Ben said.
'Dios mio,” said Connie, as if she, too, were hearing the news for the first time.
Every one fell silent for a moment. “Geez, Mom. Don't sugar-coat it or anything,” Ben finally said. “A sister? How?'
Mavis laughed. “The usual way, I expect.'
'Ben, your father was gone for a long time,” Aunt Beth said. “He apparently remarried fifteen years ago. It's not a giant leap that he might have had more children.'
'Are there more?” Harry asked.
'I'm not sure I know the answer to that,” Mavis said. “Ilsa didn't say there weren't more, but if there are more kids, she didn't talk about them. And only her daughter came for the funeral.'
'Are you sure she's Dad's daughter?” Ben asked.
'Yes,” Mavis said, “I think so.'
'I suppose she has red hair?” Harry said. Mavis and Gerald were both red-heads, and while their sons had a variety of hair textures and shades, they too were all ginger-haired.
'She does.'
'What else?” Harry pressed.
'You'll see when you meet her,” Mavis said. “Now, let's get busy and help get this dinner going.'
Chapter 22
All five Willis boys and the wives and children of the older three were present and accounted for before the Dutch contingent arrived. Harry had been pacing the kitchen and was the first down the hall and to the front door when Ilsa rang the bell. He opened the door and stood in stunned silence, leaving the new arrivals on the porch.
Mavis came up behind him. She gently nudged him to the side.
'Welcome,” she said to Gerard's cousins. “Come on in.'
Theobald, his wife Uda and Ilsa came in. Ilsa's daughter stood frozen, staring at Harry.
'Don't be rude, Marit,” Ilsa said, and pulled her daughter by the hand into the house.
Mavis poked Harry in the back.
'Sorry,” he said. “I'm Harry.'
'Hello, Harry. I'm Ilsa, and this is my daughter Marit.” Ilsa held her hand out, and Harry took it.
'Is this my brother?” Marit asked Mavis in nearly unaccented English.
'This is one of them.'
'He's very old,” Marit said, staring at Harry's face.
'Would you like to meet the rest of your brothers?” Mavis asked with a glance at Ilsa. Ilsa smiled encouragement.
Mavis took Marit by the hand and led her into the kitchen. She completed the introductions, and although Marit wasn't very impressed with her grown brothers, her face lit up when she realized she was an aunt and that she had a niece who was just two years her junior. The two girls were shy at first, but Gerry's daughter Elfie was a talker, and soon the girls were chattering as if they'd known each other for years.
Connie stayed in the kitchen until dinner was served.
'Can you handle things, mija?” she asked Harriet when the rest of the guests were out on the patio filling plates with pollo con chipotle, fruit and potato salads and the rest of the delicious food the Loose Threads had delivered. “Any leftover salads and the chicken can go into the refrigerator in the containers they're in, so clean-up shouldn't be too hard.” She took her apron off. “If you get a chance, grill the little girl,” she advised. “Kids that age are more observant then people give them credit for.'
When Connie was gone, Harriet circulated among the people seated on the patio, refilling glasses, first with iced tea and then lemonade. Theobald was talking with Gerry and James, both of whom had visited the Netherlands and stayed with their dad's cousins after high school, before their dad left.
'I never could understand why Mavis would divorce Gerald. And his story about you boys not wanting to see him anymore seemed unlikely, too,” Theobald said. “He insisted he'd been thrown out and needed to be far away so he could start his life over. I saw the way he studied the Christmas pictures your mother sent us every year, like a hungry man with a fish.” He made a dismissive wave with his hand. “I never believed it.'
Harriet moved on to the cluster of women.
'We raised her to speak both Dutch and English. And she studies English at school,” Ilsa said. She was wearing a blue seersucker skirt with a sleeveless white shirt, a pale yellow sweater draped loosely over her shoulders. James and Pete Willis were both married to women who dressed to impress and both were outclassed by Ilsa.
She moved on to the children. Mavis's older grandchildren had gone upstairs to Harriet's TV room to watch music DVDs they'd brought with them. Marit and Elfie sat side-by-side on the patio swing.
'Where is your bathroom?” Elfie asked Harriet, who directed her to the half-bath off the kitchen.
'This must be a little overwhelming,” she said to Marit. The girl shrugged. “Did you have any idea you had brothers?” Harriet pressed.
The girl's face turned pink, and she squirmed in her seat. Harriet let the silence grow.
'Vader used to keep sweets in his office at home. He would hide them, and then I would find them and he would move them again.” She paused.
'And?” Harriet finally said.
The girl's blue eyes filled with tears.
'One day I opened a drawer, and there were no sweets. I began to shut the drawer, but then something fell from the surface above and it dropped into the drawer.'
'What was it?'
'It was a picture. It had been taped to the board above the drawer, and the tape came loose.” She sighed. “It was a picture of five boys, and one looked very like me.'
'What did your father say? I assume you asked him.'
'Vader said it was his cousin's children.'
'But you didn't believe him?'
'Uda and Theobald are his cousins, and they have girls, and they have blond hair. And at Christmas, Uda would get a picture card from her friend in America, and there were five men with ginger hair. I asked Moeder, but she said all only children imagine secret brothers and sisters.'
Harriet felt mean grilling a child, but she continued anyway. “Did your father tell you where he was going when he came here?'
She tilted her face away. “He told me not to tell anyone. He said especially not Moeder, because she would worry.'
'I don't think he would mind your telling me. I'm trying to figure out what happened. I think he would want that.'
Marit turned her wide, blue-eyed gaze onto Harriet and then sighed.
'He said there was a man who was doing something bad, and he could stop him. He told me he would be back before I knew it.” Her tears welled again.
