The Twins. Sheldon Cohen

It’s too early. Maybe you just missed because you got such a shock from your rotten ex-fiancée.”

      “I doubt it.”

      “If you really are pregnant, I can help you. My girlfriend got in the same fix, and she gave her baby up for adoption. There was no way she could take care of a child. She confided in me, so I know just what to do.”

      “You’re a good friend, Heidi.”

      Another month passed and with it, a second missed menstrual period. There was little doubt when Frieda began to experience nausea and light-headedness.

      Heidi, true to her word, arranged for her to get help. She sent Frieda to see Pastor Braun who arranged for her to see a doctor to verify the pregnancy.

      Several weeks later, after the doctor had confirmed her pregnancy, Frieda returned to the pastor’s office. “You’re certain that you plan to give your baby up for adoption?” he asked.

      “Yes, I’m certain. I cannot take care of a baby. It deserves a better home than I can give it.”

      “Do your parents know?”

      “God, no. It would kill them. My father is a minister like you. I was supposed to go back home in a few months, but now I can’t. I’ll tell them I want to work for six or seven more months. Then, after the baby is born, I’ll go home and start my life over again. They must never know.”

      “I understand. We’ll place you in the Angel Sentinel home near Munich in about two months.”

      “Could it be sooner? I’m starting to show already.”

      “I’ll work on it. I’ll do my best for you.”

      In four weeks, Frieda left the beer hall. She told her boss and her other friends that she would be leaving to visit some relatives and then would return home. The only one who knew the true story was Heidi.

      She moved into her new quarters at Angel Sentinel near Munich.

      CHAPTER 12

      Werner had accepted the irony of his situation. He even began to view it with some humor. To think that he might have made his own future adopted child was an astonishing development. And the fact that it could be his own brother’s kid added to the irony. If this had happened to someone else, Werner would be inclined to laugh at what they had done, but in his own case, he kept an awed silence—God works in mysterious ways.

      In one month, he could become a father. Time had flown by. Brigid was excited to the point of wanting to furnish a room for the baby, but Werner, remembering his grandmother’s admonition, told her to wait, since they had no idea whether they would become parents of a son or a daughter. “Be patient. We’ll fix up a baby’s room as soon as we know.”

      As it turned out, they did not need much patience because the next day the pastor came to Werner and Brigid’s house to tell them that the baby had been born. He found Werner home, but Brigid was visiting her parents.

      “But this is a month too soon,” said an alarmed Werner.”

      “Mother Nature charges on. No force on earth can stop her,” said Pastor Braun.

      “Werner fired off nonstop questions. “It’s too soon, no? How much does it weigh? Boy or girl? Is it okay?”

      “Whoa, hold on; four and six tenths kilograms.”

      “That’s so big for coming early,” said Werner.

      “Werner, they are twin boys. Each one weighs about two point three kilograms. I’ve already got them listed in the parish register as being born May 6, 1907, father unknown.”

      He did not hear the last part. He was speechless. Twins! Twin boys! No. No. We couldn’t take twins. His mind swirled like a hurricane. Twins were out of the question.

      “Werner. I said twin boys.”

      “Yeah, I heard what you said, and I’m sure you’re not making a joke. I have to think. I’ll get back to you.”

      “The babies aren’t going anyplace. They’ll watch them to see how they do. Unless something unusual happens, they should be fine. Get back to me in a few days.”

      Werner decided he would contact his brother. He asked Alfred to meet him at the beer hall. There were details to work out before he told Brigid.

      When Werner arrived, his brother was already there. They sat in the privacy of a small booth. “What’s this all about,” Alfred asked.

      Werner responded with a question of his own. “When are you leaving for the United States?”

      “As soon as I finish with Sigmund and his cousin; it could be very soon.”

      “Big move. You’re a brave guy. Braver than I ever thought.”

      “Thanks, but you didn’t ask me to meet you here just to ask when I’m going to the United States. What’s on your mind?”

      “There’s something you need to know.”

      “What?”

      “You know we’re going to adopt a baby.”

      “Sure. What’s happening?”

      “You’re involved.”

      “Me? It’s none of my business,” said a confused Alfred. “What are you talking about?”

      “I’m talking about Frieda. You remember Frieda?”

      Alfred sat upright slamming his back into the booth. “Frieda? Frieda from the beer hall?”

      “That’s right. The girl you visited in her back room. What’d you do back there?” He watched his brother squirm. “We’re going to get her baby.”

      Alfred’s mouth opened to speak, but nothing came out. With wide-open eyes, he said, “I thought you weren’t supposed to know who the pregnant woman was when you adopt.”

      “We’re not, but I found out. It’s Frieda.”

      “How the hell did you find out?”

      “I did. That’s all I say.”

      “Frieda!”

      “Yeah, Frieda. You got that? I could be taking your kid. Understand?”

      Alfred, his mouth open, stared at his brother.

      “Don’t play innocent with me. I saw you walk out of her room that night,” said Werner.

      Alfred’s heart raced. He gulped down his beer. “You got no proof I did anything.”

      “That’s right. ‘No proof.’ I didn’t see what you did in there, but what took you fifteen minutes?”

      Alfred stormed on the offensive. “Look who’s talking. You think I didn’t see you coming out of the outhouse and then sneaking back into the shadows when I walked out of Frieda’s room. Well I did. Then you didn’t come back to the table for about fifteen or twenty minutes. What did you do? Have a cup of tea with Frieda?”

      “Alfred, I wasn’t going to say a word about this. You would never even know about it. You and Helene would be in the United States. Brigid and I would pick up the baby, and Frieda would go home, and that would be that.”

      “So, why don’t you just do that? What are you talking to me for?”

      “Because Frieda just had twin boys.”

      Alfred closed his eyes and shook his head vigorously. “Twins?”

      “That’s it,” said Werner. “I’m not taking twins.”

      “So let somebody else take them. And that’s the end of that problem.”

      “We’re only taking one.”

      “So