They’re friendly, of course. We live next door to each other, but it’s rare we share a meal with them. In fact, I don’t recall the last time we did. It would have been a gathering with Felix, Gerty, and Danner’s parents too. It was never just two families. It was all or nothing.
“Well, Frau Berger knocked on the door this morning and asked if we were free for dinner tonight. She’s invited us over. I told her I would make a loaf of bread, a pie, and dumplings.”
“Is this dinner party just for you, Papa, and Otto’s parents?” I’m still confused by the last-minute plan.
Mama stops and pulls a dishrag off her shoulder, flour snowing everywhere as she wipes her flour covered hands off on the fabric. “No, of course not. You and Otto will be there too, obviously.”
Otto didn’t mention this to me last night when we had dinner together then went for a walk through the square in Altstadt. For that reason, I must assume this was Frau Berger’s idea.
“Are we celebrating something?” I ask, the nerves in my stomach growing angrier with the questions floundering in my head.
“Not that I’m aware of. Do you know of anything we might be celebrating?” There’s a smirk on her face and it sends a chill down my spine.
“I don’t see what’s so funny about this. I don’t like surprises, Mama. If you know something and aren’t telling me, please don’t keep it from me.”
Mama steps in closer to me and places her flour covered hands on my shoulders and kisses each of my cheeks. “You need to be calm, darling. Everything is fine. There’s nothing you should be worried about.”
“I didn’t say I was worried, but I don’t like the unexpected.”
“Even if it’s something wonderful?” she asks, her smile still present.
“You know something,” I state.
I realize I’m clenching my fists tightly by my sides and my neck is starting to sweat. Otto must be behind this. We’ve been dating on and off for a while and he talks about the future as if it’s already here, but I always thought it was just talk, not something that would really start now. Even when we got back together, it was with an understanding that we both needed to focus on our studies and put us second.
Maybe I’m getting ahead of myself. It could be that Otto heard some good news between late last night and this morning. My stomach just says otherwise.
“I don’t know any more than you do, but Frau Berger did seem more chipper than usual so I figure the invitation has to be for a good reason, right?”
“You mean, as in, perhaps Danner came home?” The thought brightens my mood, lifting my hope when I know it shouldn’t, but without hope…there’s nothing.
Mama reaches behind my neck for my braid and pulls it over my shoulder, sliding her fingers down the silky weave. “Emilie, you speak as if you’re a heartbroken widow. I know you miss your friend and I miss mine too, trust me, I do, but I think we both know that until this war ends, they won’t be coming home. It isn’t safe here for them and even if they could come back, from what I’ve heard, the borders are locked down. To care about Danner means to want him to be somewhere safe, and Germany is not a safe place for him.”
Everything she’s saying is true, but my heartisbroken regardless of whether I’m a widow. It hurts just as much today as it did a year ago. I don’t want to imagine a pain much worse.
“Yes, I know, Mama.”
“Okay,” she says, sweeping a fallen strand of hair behind my ear. “Go freshen up. Dinner is soon.”
Papa closes our front door behind us as we set off to make the quick walk next door to Otto’s house. I hold two fingers against my opposite wrist, counting the beats of my pulse. My heart is racing. I would never expect anyone to assume how little I enjoy surprises so I’m forthcoming about what causes me discomfort, which is why I can’t understand why anyone would knowingly cause me stress. Maybe this is a bad omen for becoming a nurse. I suppose nurses need to be able to handle the unexpected, but in those cases, I work better under tension. My mind just likes to contradict itself, I guess.
Mama knocks on the Bergers’ front door, and we hear the scampering of feet as someone comes closer to the other side. I wrap my arms around my stomach, squeezing at my nerve pain.
Frau Berger opens the door, a red lipstick lined smile stretches from cheek-to-cheek. “Welcome. I’m so glad you were able to come over for dinner at such short notice.”
Why was it short notice? There must be a reason.
“We’re so flattered you thought of us,” Mama replies.
I glance over at Mama, realizing my hands are empty, aside from holding my own body upright. She has two stacked serving dishes and Papa has the pie and loaf of bread in his hands. This is unlike me. I’m usually the first to offer to hold or carrysomething, especially for my parents. My head is just floating in a thick set of storm clouds right now.
“Come on inside. Stefan is pouring drinks and Otto is setting the table.” Why didn’t Otto greet us at the door?
The moment we step inside, the warmth of burning firewood embraces us. Frau Berger takes the serving dishes from Mama and rushes them into the kitchen before returning for the pie and loaf of bread. The three of us remove our coats and hang them on the tall rack next to the large brass mirror.
Herr Berger turns the corner and dips his hands into his pockets. “Welcome. Come, have a seat in the dining room,” he says, waving us toward him.
I’ve been inside their house more times than I can count, and though everything looks as it usually does, nothing feels familiar. Otto greets me as I step beneath the arched entryway to the dining room, taking my hand in his.
