The Day the Flowers Died (6 page)

“At a few of the local shops, but many I find outside the city
where my parents live.”

Eli lifted a few Gerber Daises out of the sink, delicately
washing between the petals and refilling their vases with
water.  He then took a handful of nutrients from her bag and
sprinkled it inside the vase.  Next, he arranged the
assortment of white Edelweiss, bright blue Cornflowers, and purple
Spindles, and placed the vase on top of her cabinet next to a
picture of a mother cuddling a baby.

“Who is this?” He tried to contain his joyful surprise upon
discovering something new about her.  “Is this you?”

Rebecca sped across the room to defend her turf.  “Well, if
you must know, this is Mutti holding me when I was a baby.”

“Your mama, the woman I’ll meet at the Christmas Eve
dinner?”

“And my papa’s picture is here.” Rebecca lifted the photo of her
father standing under a tree with a book in his hands.

“Where was this taken?”

“Switzerland.  Just after my high school graduation. 
It is the last photo I have of all of us.  Perhaps at
Christmas we can take another with you?” she asked.

“I’d be honored, and I’ll drive us up so that you don’t have to
worry about it.”

“That would be nice and you can also show off your car to my
parents.” She quirked her brows.

“It’s not anything notable.  I’m still saving up for a more
reliable car.”

“Still, at least you have a car and in a time when many don’t
even have work.”

“I’m glad you’re so easy to please.” He tickled her on her
ribs.  She grabbed her side and, when she tried to tug Eli’s
hands away, his fingers intertwined with her own.  Eli pulled
her hands up to his face and then her fingers wiped over his lips
holding a touch of soil in the corner.  Her gaze caught his,
her long lashes touched his, and their noses brushed as their lips
found comfort in one long, delicious moment.

Thursday, December 24, 1931

Christmas Eve: The Baum house was decorated in keeping with
their Christmas tradition with lush fake flowers and vines winding
up and through the metal gates. Ornate lights hung high on the
house roof eaves and around the doors. Shoveled snow lined the
street and the walkway leading to the front door. The two story
house reached far from one side of the property to the other as if
two homes had been fused to make this one magnificent spectacle.
Evergreens wrapped in snowy ermine shawls marched up the driveway
in majestic elegance.

When Eli stopped his beat-up Audi at the front gate, he knew he
should have bought a BMW, even though he couldn’t afford it at the
time.  First impressions went a long way in this German town,
making up for any preconceived failures Rebecca’s parents might
bestow upon him.  He thought arriving in a BMW would have made
all the difference but, as he doubted his choice in cars, Rebecca
grabbed his hand and squeezed it, content in whatever car they
pulled up in.

The gate buzzed open, the lock was released by Mildred, the
servant of the home, who raised Rebecca almost entirely by
herself.  Eli gawked at the mansion-like home and his face
flushed red when he parked his aged car behind their pristine
Daimler-Benz.

With the car doors still shut, in this quiet, private moment,
Eli allowed her to see a frail side of him.  “I will be an
embarrassment.  Just look at what I drive!”  His palms
hit, then gripped the steering wheel.

“Don’t worry about the car,” she soothed.  “And you are
never an embarrassment.”

He paused a moment, then nodded.  “Ready?”

“Yes.”

His confidence returned and he pushed the door open with his
shoulder.  Moving to her side of the car, he helped her out,
both of them taking deep, calming breaths before making their way
over the pebbled walkway leading to the two oak white front
doors.

Mildred opened the door before they reached it, her face alight
with joy.  “It’s so good to see you this time of year. 
You bring festivity and felicity with your youthful city charms.”
Mildred spoke proud like a parent to the girl who was like a
daughter to her.  “Your parents are waiting for you in the
dining room.  Chef Ruben has prepared the Christmas feast and
will take it to the table once the two of you have settled and
seated.”

Rebecca smiled at the name Ruben, her favorite chef of the four
they’d had over the years.  He always had a way of adding
flavors she could never quite name, but never forget.  Eli
went back to the car while Rebecca and Mildred paused in
conversation, and returned with Rebecca’s small suitcase. 
She’d insinuated before they left that she might stay a few nights
before returning to Munich.

Eli planned to leave at the end of the night, hoping to impress
her parents well enough to be invited back again.  But, since
Rebecca’s father was German and her mother Dutch American, raised
to honor German values, Eli worried about his reception and
acceptance. Social pressures and financial morass plagued 1931
Munich. A Jewish man was not the typical choice for an classy
German born daughter. For this reason, he bolstered a hard
confidence, like a stone wall, to keep his innermost weaknesses
hidden.

It drove him to always work twice as hard as his colleagues,
proving himself to be of service to this German world, proving
himself to be of value to his German peers.  Most important of
all, he knew he would have to be twice the man a German would have
to be to win the hearts of Rebecca’s parents.

Stepping inside behind Mildred and Rebecca, who were busy
rekindling their fondest memories, Eli saw a butler holding the
door.  He greeted Eli with a nod, took Rebecca’s suitcase, and
motioned him to proceed.

“This way.  This way.” Rebecca grabbed Eli’s wrist and
pulled him through a long corridor of marble floors and stone white
walls adorned with original art. In her excitement of Eli meeting
her parents, she forgot herself momentarily until she reached the
dining hall. Her mother sat at the teak engraved table, peering
from behind a large vase filled with vibrant Marsh Marigolds.

Her mother’s hands rearranged the flowers Mildred had arranged
in the morning and Rebecca remembered why she felt reluctant months
ago to tell her parents of her relationship.  Her mother never
approved of anything she did, not moving to Munich, not going to
college.  And now, instead of accepting her mother’s choice in
Carl, a man she wanted Rebecca to date and eventually marry,
Rebecca invited Eli home.

When Rebecca entered the dining hall, her confident demeanor
dropped to one sheepish grin and she knew her mother still had
power over her.  After all this time, she still yearned for
her mother’s approval, despite the impossibility of ever obtaining
it.  Eli walked in behind Rebecca, his hand on her shoulder to
soothe the tensions he felt boiling inside of her.

Gliding to her mother sitting on the left side of the long
table, Rebecca kissed her mother’s cheeks, signifying her
gratefulness at the reception. Rebecca’s golden brown silk gown,
which wrapped around her waist and draped over her ankles,
contrasted her mother’s beige white lace gown.  Her mother had
called to tell her what she would be wearing so Rebecca could find
something suitable.

Rebecca couldn’t bear to have her mother’s disapproving glare
aimed at her throughout Christmas dinner because of any untamed
manners. Her greeting, garb, dining, cordial conversation and
salutation for the night would all be without reproach. 
Rebecca had escaped the clutches of her mother’s cultural
refinement when she immigrated to Munich. However, her strict
upbringing, enforced primarily by her mother, remained with
her.

The freedom Munich gave her allowed her to fill her apartment
with too many flowers, to leave her laundry sometimes unattended
for a few days, and to charcoal dinners in her attempts to learn
how to cook.  This achieved freedom remained concealed to keep
it from seeping out of her and spoiling the night, a night she
hoped would belong to Eli and his impressive accomplishments.

Eli unwrapped his beige trench coat from his body and draped it
over his left arm while waiting for instruction on where to leave
it.  The butler, appareled in black and white and who had held
the door for them upon arriving, scurried to Eli’s side, took the
coat and carried it away.

Rebecca’s father sat on the right end of the elongated table
positioned horizontally to the dining hall entrance; her mother sat
at the opposite end.  Eli addressed Rebecca’s father with an
outstretched hand. Her father shook it, his sharp blue eyes
reminding Eli of Rebecca’s, and he unconsciously smiled.

“I’m Ralph Baum, Rebecca’s father.”

“Eli Levin.”

With the last name, Deseire swallowed hard on her appetizer of
ham.

“And this,” he pointed across the table, “is my dear wife,
Rebecca’s mother, Deseire.  We call her Dessie.  Please,
have a seat.”

Eli sat closest to the door where he first entered. Rebecca kept
her eyes locked on his to give him support and herself comfort as
she took the seat across from him.  Genuine silverware
bordered each placemat and crystal stemware sparkled at the top.
Eli straightened his dark beige slacks which matched his jacket.
Rebecca especially picked out his tie because of the hint of gold
infused into its fabric which she knew would compliment her gown
and the garb of her parents.

Her father wrestled with his brown suit jacket, and then waved
with his fingers to the butler for help while he struggled to take
it off his arms.  Over the years, Ralph had gained a few extra
pounds which harbored in his upper body, stomach and arms. 
The butler helped wrestle the brown jacket off of him and carried
it away in a quickened pace.

Deseire glanced at Eli with a polite smile and sharp hazel eyes,
reminding him of someone at the meat market picking out
steaks.  Servants carried the food out on silver platters with
Ralph’s company name engraved along the sides.

Three servants, also in black and white, held the plates high in
their hands.  Two males and one female with brown hair tied
into a bun set the platters and plates around the table without
much sound and then became invisible again, disappearing through
the door behind Deseire.

Roasted duck sat at Rebecca’s end and honey roasted ham at
Eli’s.  Boiled potatoes and peas decorated Ralph’s side of the
table and cranberry sauce, sauerkraut and corn sat near
Deseire.  Rebecca lifted her fingers to snitch a piece of
duck, but pulled away at her mother’s glare burning into her
hand.

Ralph filled the delay in waiting for the servants to serve the
main entrée with opportune inquiry.

“So, Eli, Rebecca tells us you are a lawyer.  That
profession must keep you very busy.”

“It does.” Eli smiled lightheartedly.

“She tells me you graduated from Ludwig Maximilians
University.”

“Yes, two years ago, and I’ve been working ever since.” Eli
answered with an ease learned from working cases in the court
room.

“You found work after graduation; that is serendipitous,” Ralph
commented, while his wife’s gaze flickered between the two men.

“Ralph owns factories throughout Germany,” Deseire remarked with
a curt smile.  The servants prepared each of their plates with
a slice of ham and duck and a few spoonfuls of corn and peas and
lastly a dip of sauerkraut.

“Looks delicious,” Eli remarked and dug his fork into the
corn.

“It really does.  I can’t wait to taste Rueben’s duck,”
Rebecca agreed.

When Rebecca picked the duck up with her silver fork, the red
brown sauce dripped and the green herbs aromatically filled the
space between the plate and her nose and she closed her eyes,
whiffing in the seasoned flavor.  Ralph dug his fork into the
duck and then the ham, savoring both meats at the same time. 
Only his love of food surpassed his love of business.

“Where did the two of you meet?” Deseire intruded on the moment
of succulence.  Eli’s wide eyes widened further and his lips
stretched with pleasure in memory.

“I live above Rebecca and noticed her in the building.”

Rebecca cut in.  “He kept receiving some of my mail by
mistake and kindly brought the letters to me.”

“Did any of our letters make their way somewhere else?” Deseire
snipped.

“I don’t think so, Mutti. I’m sure I received every one of your
verbose letters.” And out it popped, the civility Rebecca tried so
desperately to hold onto throughout the night.

“Verbose?” Deseire cleared her throat and the wrinkles around
her eyes intensified as if preparing for war. “Darling, we never
hear from you and some-one in the family has to keep
communication.  We don’t know if you’re alright or what kind
of strange people may be involved in your life.”

Eli’s shoulders jolted back into his chair, creating a gap
between him and the dining table, hoping to become invisible and
avoid the bickering about to take place.

“Mother,” Rebecca used the elongated form instead of mutti
whenever she was frazzled by her.  “I only mean that your
letters are very long and I am busy between work and
University.”

“Rebecca’s right.  She is a very busy young college woman
these days and we can’t expect her to contact us with every free
moment.” Ralph interrupted the growing feud before the embers had
time to burn and explode.

“But a phone call a night is not asking too much, Rebecca. 
How else are we to know you’re safe? If you don’t have time to read
my letters and respond, then at least phone us.”

“I do, Mutti.  I called you just…” Rebecca replayed the
past couple months in her mind and couldn’t recall a night when she
had phoned her mother recently.

Deseire took advantage of her daughter’s delayed response. 
“You see, you cannot even remember a time, because it was so long
ago.  All I’m asking for is a little more communication so
that I know my only child is still alive.”