by Mark Mueller
“Old country?” I asked. “Which one?”
“Germany,” Maddy said. “Her husband was a lot older than she was. It seems he was a Count from place called Lachweiler.”
“Never heard of it. What was his name?” I asked, ever the reporter.
“Krause,” Maddy said. “Werner Krause.” She pronounced the first name Verner. “He passed on about thirty-five years ago.”
“Was he wealthy, since he was a Count, and all?”
“We’re not sure. It was rumored that he was, but Aunt Polly never talked about it.”
“I see. How did she meet him?”
“Aunt Polly had some sort of academic scholarship to Columbia University,” Maddy said. “That’s where she met Werner Krause in the mid nineteen-thirties. He was a student there, too. The two of them hit it off and he ended up staying in America after the Nazis came to power. They married a week after graduation.”
“Did they have any children?” I asked.
“None that we know of,” Hugo Wuhrer said. “But I’ve heard stories that she tricked the old Count into marriage.”
“How so?” I asked. I wasn’t surprised. Gold diggers worked on many levels. Of course, he may have been looking for a green card, too. You never know.
“Well,” Wuhrer explained, “It seems that one day after they had been dating for about a year, they were out on a Sunday stroll in Central Park in New York. From what I hear, Aunt Polly asked old Werner Krause if he’d like to go on a picnic. He said ‘I do’ and at that moment a preacher jumped out from behind some bushes and announced, ‘I now pronounce you man and wife’. True story.”
I smiled. “Good one,” I acknowledged.
I think I was just had.
“Mac?”
I looked up. Maddy was pointing at her watch.
“It’s eight o’clock.”
“Oh, okay,” I said. I got up from the table and thrust out my hand out of habit. “It was good to see you again, Hugo.”
Wuhrer ignored my hand again. “Sure. I’ll be on my way as soon as the wife returns. I’ll see you there.”
“All righty then,” I quipped as I lowered my hand. “See you then.”
Maddy kissed her father. “Drive safe, Daddy.”
“I will, Madge.” Wuhrer’s smile disappeared from his face. He pointed at me “You behave yourself, Mac.”
I looked at him. “I always behave, Hugo.”
“So you say.”
I faced Hugo Wuhrer and took a step forward. “Is there something you want to say to me?”
“No, Mac. It’s just that my daughter’s been through a lot. I don’t want to see her get hurt again.”
At least he was honest. But his words didn’t bother me. Some people take longer to heal from the hurt imposed upon them, and I understood that. Hugo Wuhrer was a concerned father. I suspected he wasn’t at all convinced that I had indeed left my drinking life behind.
A lot of people in my life, both current and past, shared his sentiment. During the first couple of years of my sobriety, that was an immense concern, but after a while I decided I wasn’t going to let it get to me anymore. If people don’t believe that I’ve changed, then it’s their problem, not mine. Their judging me does not define who I am. It defines who they are.
“I’m not the person you once knew, Hugo,” I assured. “Times change.”
“I hope so,” he replied. “For your sake. And hers.” He looked at Maddy.
“Come on, Mac, we have to go.” Maddy took my arm and pointed me to the front door.
Chapter Twenty-Three
“I’m sorry about my father, Mac,” Maddy said once we were on the road.
“Nothing to be sorry about, Madge,” I replied.
“Don’t call me that.”
“You father does.”
“I said don’t call me that.”
“Okay.”
“My father is just concerned.”
“I know. A lot of people get concerned when I’m around. It goes with the territory.”
“I’m sorry, anyway.”
“No problem,” I said. It was forgotten.
We drove in silence. New York was an hour and a half away and I knew this could be an uncomfortable ride, so I turned on the radio for a little noise. The radio was preset to Q-104.3, a classic rock station out of New York. I loved listening to it. A famous disc jockey named Scott Muni was once on during the midday until he passed away. He used to start off his show each day with a block of Beatles songs.
As I set the radio’s volume to a comfortable level, I again wondered why Maddy had asked me to go to the will reading instead of just going with her parents. She could have just asked me to meet her there. I hadn’t seen her in six years, and it seemed unusual that she would be so willing to be alone with me so soon after all this time.
I also wondered again why my name was in the will. I had met her Aunt Polly once very briefly several years ago, but never had a relationship with her.
Was my name in the will because of the information I had found on the Internet? Had Aunt Polly somehow known about it? But whatever was going on, I decided that the mystery would have to wait until after the reading.
First things first, I had to talk to Maddy. I wanted to get my amends out of the way before I brought up what was on the computer printout in my pocket. I was long overdue.
Just before I spoke, it hit me. Maddy wanted my apology, and she knew that traveling to the city together would give me the opportunity. This was her chance to get me alone. She wanted my amends while we were alone in the car together.
I had to hand it to her. She always knew how to get what she wanted.
It was now or never.
“I owe you my amends, Maddy,” I murmured.
“Yes you do,” she replied.
“I’m sorry, Maddy. I’m sorry for the drinking. I’m sorry for what I did to you. I betrayed you and you deserved better from me. I’m very sorry. And I’m sorry for taking so long to apologize. I’m really sorry for that, for everything.”
I glanced at her.
Maddy didn’t say anything right away. It was almost five minutes before she spoke again.
“That was a nice apology, Mac.”
“Thank you.”
“You’re really something, you know that?”
I smiled.
“A nice and tidy apology.”
“Huh?”
“I shouldn’t be surprised, you being a writer and all. Creativity suits you.”
“Maddy—”
“Do you know what you did to me, Mac? Do you have any idea? Even remotely? I mean, do you know what you sound like? You sound like a lame Academy Award audition. I expected better from you.”
I was stunned into silence for a few moments.
“What do you want from me, Maddy?” I asked, after recovering my composure.
“I want an apology, Mac, a real one. Not some superficial, depthless band-aid. I want you take back everything you did to me. I want to stop hurting.”
“What, like a doctor?” I was trying not to be antagonistic.
“Yes, Mac, I want you to make the hurt go away. You were out of control and you know it. You kept promising you’d stop drinking and get your act together, but you didn’t. You lied to me repeatedly. You were barely working and you kept taking money from me and never repaid it. You kept using my car because you couldn’t buy gas for your own. You gave up all responsibility toward me. All of it! I broke up with you because you were killing yourself and I had to save myself. I wasn’t about to let myself die with you. Yes, I had to save myself. And you’re right, Mac. You betrayed me and you betrayed my trust, but that doesn’t even begin to scratch the surface. The abuse was horrible.”
I winced, but stayed silent. I didn’t like it, but I knew I had to let her have her say and take whatever she threw at me.
“You abused me, Mac,” Maddy continued. “Maybe you never hit me, but you did abuse me emotionally. I don’t date because of y
ou. I’m all alone. And because of you I’m incapable of trusting anyone. Anyone!”
“Come on, you’re a good-looking girl,” I said. “You could have any guy you want.”
She glared at me. “There’s been no one since you, Mac, don’t you get that? I’m alone because I don’t trust anyone, thanks to you.”
“So what do you want from me, Maddy?” I asked.
“I want you to apologize to me for real, Mac. Make your amends with me. Make it count. Do it right. Do it now, once and for all.”
I was stunned, shocked. In all of my Step Nine amends, this had never happened before. I had avoided the issue with Maddy, and she was calling me out on it. And it was worse than I anticipated it would be. The depth of Maddy’s pain was far more than I could ever have imagined. I hated myself for what I had done to her.
But even so, I understood that what came out of my mouth next was crucial to her healing process. I had to do this right. If not, my words would make things worse and would haunt me every day until I answered the Grim Reaper’s Last Call.
Maybe with everyone else in my life I only needed to make a low-level amend. But that wasn’t the case with Maddy. I had to put some meat on this apology’s bones, and I had better be sincere. I had just one chance, and that one chance was right now.
“I’m waiting,” Maddy demanded.
I took a deep breath. “I know I hurt you, Maddy,” I appeased. “If there is any way I could take back all the pain I gave you, I would. I was wrong to hurt you. I let my priorities get all screwed up and I let alcohol take over my life. I let my drinking define who I was, and I let it get in between us. My behavior was appalling and I betrayed your trust. I couldn’t stop drinking because it had the best of me. It had total control of my life. I was addicted to it, beholden to it body and soul.
“You know, I had this crazy idea that you’d always be there for me, and I truly believed that my drinking wasn’t affecting you. That was the lie I was living.
“I got fired from the Press not long after you broke up with me because I was missing too many deadlines. It wasn’t until after that when I finally understood what I was doing. I lost everything that was important to me, most of all, you. I’m sorry, Maddy. I’m sorry for hurting you. I’m sorry for breaking your trust. I’m sorry for becoming an alcoholic and dragging you down into hell with me. You deserved better. And you still do.”
I took another deep breath. “I know I have no right to ask, but if you could find it in your heart to forgive me, I’d be grateful.”
It had been my experience with making amends that the less I talked the better. So, I stopped talking and waited.
Maddy didn’t speak for almost ten minutes.
“That was better,” she whispered. “Thank you.”
“Thank you, too. For listening.”
“It’s going take a while for this to process,” she admitted. “But still, you are forgiven, Mac. But don’t think for a minute that I’m going to forget anything. At least not for now.”
“Understood,” I said. “There’s no hurry.” At this point, I didn’t care. She forgave me. After six years, Step Nine was complete for me at last. And the weight off of my conscience was noticeable. Even though I knew there was little hope that we could ever get back together, I still held a microscopic trace of hope inside of me. Maybe there was a romantic inside of me after all. And I couldn’t help but to smile at that.
We finished the ride in silence. While I drove, I decided to hold off on confronting Maddy with the computer printout, at least for a couple of days. I knew from experience that too much stress all at once could break for good what had started to mend. So, instead, I said nothing and motorvated.
* * * *
We parked at the Newport Center Mall parking garage in Jersey City because I didn’t like driving into Manhattan. I’m a paranoid when it comes to car theft in the city, and my Charger would be a tempting target.
We walked to the PATH subway station across the street from the mall and took the escalator down to below street level. On the way to the escalator, I glanced across the Hudson River to New York and at the new World Trade Center tower. Even after all these years, I still hadn’t gotten accustomed to the absence of the original twin towers. I’m sure there are many who feel the same way.
Fifteen minutes later we came back up to street level at the World Trade Center site. Hundreds of tourists milled about taking photographs. F.O.T.s are much more abundant in New York than in Spruce Run.
And in New York, not only did I feel like an F.O.T., I was one.
Chapter Twenty-Four
We arrived at the Applegate law firm on John Street a few minutes before our appointment. We were led to a small conference room that was already occupied by an older woman I didn’t know. Maddy didn’t appear to know her, either.
Hugo and Amanda Wuhrer arrived a moment later, along with Maddy’s sister Peggy, making a grand total of six souls present to hear what was in the will of a person who was alien to me.
A natty-dressed suit walked in the conference room two minutes after ten, carrying a manila folder. He nodded to us and hastened to a desk on the far side of the room. He sat down and made himself comfortable.
“For the record,” the suit said, “my name is Randall Applegate, attorney for the deceased, Paula Wuhrer. The date is July sixth and the time is ten-oh-five a.m.”
He looked around the room. “May I have each of your names, please, for the record?”
“I’ll go first,” Maddy’s father declared. “I’m Hugo Wuhrer, and this is my wife, Amanda.” He motioned to his left.
“Margaret Wuhrer O’Brian,” Peggy said.
“Madeleine Wuhrer,” Maddy said.
“Louis McMurphy,” I said next.
Applegate looked down at his notes. “Mr. McMurphy,” he said aloud as if he hadn’t expected me to be there. I shrugged. He then looked at the older woman I had seen when we first entered the room. “You are Ursula Wuhrer, I presume?”
“Yes I am,” the old woman replied.
“Okay. Let us proceed, then.” Applegate put down his list of names and picked up a legal-sized document. “This is the last will and testament of Paula Wuhrer. It’s a one-page document and I will read it now in its entirety.”
Applegate covered his mouth and coughed, and then he began to read.
“I, PAULA JEAN WUHRER, residing in the city of New York, New York, being of sound mind, do hereby make, publish and declare this to be my last will and testament and do revoke any and all other wills and codicils heretofore made by me.
“ARTICLE ONE: I direct payment of my debts, funeral expenses and expenses for administration of my estate to be deducted from said estate prior to disbursement of my assets.
“ARTICLE TWO: Save for the special bequests below, I give my estate to my nephew, HUGO WUHRER, If he predeceases me, I give my estate to his two children; MARGARET WUHRER O’BRIAN and MADELEINE THERESA WUHRER equally, share and share alike.
“If any beneficiary shall fail to survive me by 45 days, it shall be deemed that such person shall have predeceased me.
“If neither HUGO WUHRER nor his children survives me, I direct that my estate be given in trust to the Pregnancy Aide Center of Bridgewater, New Jersey.
“ARTICLE THREE: I appoint my cousin, URSULA WUHRER as executor of this will. If she predeceases me, I appoint my friend MARIA von BROUN as executor. I direct that no appointee hereunder shall be required to give bond for the faithful performance of the duties of said office.
“SPECIAL BEQUESTS: (a) I hereby give two thousand dollars ($2,000) to my cousin, URSULA WUHRER for her private and unquestioned use. (b) I hereby give my wedding ring, known as the “Lachweiler Stone,” to CHARLOTTE HELEN MCMURPHY, who is my great niece, once removed. Should CHARLOTTE MCMURPHY be a minor at the probate of this will, I direct the Lachweiler Stone to be held in trust by her mother, MADELEINE WUHRER until CHARLOTTE MCMURPHY becomes of majority age. If MADELEINE WUHRER has predeceased me, I
direct the Lachweiler Stone to be held in trust by CHARLOTTE MCMURPHY’S father, LOUIS MCMURPHY.
“The will is duly signed and witnessed. Are there any questions?”
I was livid. I looked at Maddy, who had frozen in her chair.
“You’re unbelievable,” I whispered with intensity, trying to keep my composure. “She’s my daughter.”
“Not now, Mac,” she whispered back.
“Then when?” I asked a little louder. “When were you going to tell me?”
Maddy answered me by jumping from her chair and dashing for the door. I followed her. The entire session had taken no more than four or five minutes.
I caught up with her at a bank of elevators and grabbed her arm.
“What’s wrong with you, Maddy? Why in the name of all that’s holy didn’t you tell me I had a child?”
She looked at me, her eyes filled with tears.
I shook my head and didn’t wait for an answer. I pulled from my pocket the folded computer document I had printed from the New Jersey Office of Vital Statistics website and threw it on the floor in front of her. It was a copy of Charlie’s birth certificate, and my name was on it.
I had already discovered on my own that Charlie was mine.
“You make me sick, Maddy,” I spat. “You and your holier-than-thou attitude toward me. You busted my ass from here to Kansas about how I hurt you, and at the same time you decided not to tell me about her. Did you really think you could hide her from me forever? You should have thought twice about telling me about the will.”
I took a deep breath and tried to stay calm. “I may have been an alcoholic, Maddy. You lied to me.”
I decided I didn’t want to be there anymore. I didn’t want to wait for the elevator, either, so I opened the stairway door and started down the six flights.
“Mac!” Maddy called out. “Mac, please!”
I ignored her and continued down the stairs. When I got to the first floor, I continued moving forward. I was in no mood to wait for her. As far as I was concerned, Maddy Wuhrer was a big girl and she could find her own way home.
