The Watcher by Joan Hiatt Harlow

do know it’s hereditary. You probably got it from your mother or your father or even your grandparents.”
    â€œAdrie has perfect teeth. And my father’s smile was beautiful.”
    â€œThen your grandparents might carry that gene. Take a good look at family photos and ask around the kinfolk. Perhaps you will find someone with a missing tooth who never had it fixed. You can tell—if the teeth are slanted to one side, if the missing tooth is in the same place as yours, that is.”
    He spoke to Frieda in German and then said to me. “You were a good patient, Wendy. Your mother left a number in Munich for me to call. Good-bye for now.”

    As usual, Watcher was so happy to have me home, he followed me everywhere. I got down on my knees and hugged my dog. “You and I are not perfect, Watcher,” I told him. “Your ear doesn’t stand up straight, and I have a missing tooth.” He whined and lapped my face as if he understood. I kissed his floppy ear. “I love you just the same,” I whispered.
    Later that afternoon, when the Novocain wore off, I went around the house gathering the framed photographs of my father. I laid the photos on the kitchen table and turned the overhead light on high. Then, taking a magnifying glass from the drawer, I held it over my father’s handsome face. Sure enough, in one picture where he was actually smiling, his teeth were perfectly even.
    I didn’t see anything that resembled a missing tooth or an off-center smile. So the dentist must have been wrong. I did not get that gene from my mother or my father. Hm. Of course, my father might have had a false tooth that didn’t look like a false tooth. I would ask Adrie when she came home.
    Then, with a start, I recalled the hidden photo of Adrie and that stranger. I grabbed the magnifying glass and darted into the library. I found the picture in the book where I had hidden it and brought it to the reading desk. I turned on the light and held the picture under the glass.
    He sure was handsome, whoever he was, I thought as I held the glass to the face of the young man looking out at the sea from the yacht. Waves splashed against the bow, and the wind tousled his blond hair. I moved the magnifying glass away a bit to see his face even more clearly.
    He had a nice smile and seemed to be having fun and laughing. No wonder my father wasn’t smiling in many pictures if he knew Adrie was in love with this other man.
    I looked again through the glass, studying the man’s face and wide smile. I held the glass at another angle and concentrated on his teeth. Suddenly I felt my heart make an extra beat. His teeth were clearly visible in this photograph. I suddenly realized his teeth were not totally centered. They tilted to the right.
    I checked more closely. The two front teeth were there, and on the left side was another tooth, which the dentist called the lateral incisor. Next to it I could see his eyetooth, but on the right side, he had no lateral incisor—only theeyetooth. The lateral incisor was missing! Mine wasn’t missing yet, but if that baby tooth came out, I would have the same smile.
    I grabbed the other photograph and paid attention to his teeth again. Yes, his teeth were exactly like mine would be once my baby tooth came out. I sat back in the chair while answers fell bit by bit into place, like a jigsaw puzzle.
    The man in these pictures was my father!

23
My Heritage
    I plopped down on my bed, suddenly tired, sad, and lonely.
    Why did Adrie lie about my father? It seemed as if my whole life had been lies. Should I demand she tell me everything, based upon what I found out in the albums? Adrie would be furious that I had searched those off-limits books. Still, I had a right to know who my father was, didn’t I?
    I decided to do nothing at all. I would not say a word. I would just go on keeping my own secrets—as Adrie had all these years.
    I thought about Herr