All That Shines and Whispers

by Jennifer Craven

  “How beautiful!” Marlene exclaimed.

  “I made it myself,” Lara said, her chest puffed with pride.

  “Wow, what a talented sister you have,” Lena said to Erich, as she poked his soft belly with her finger. “You’ll be the most dashing one-year-old on the block.” Lara blushed.

  “One more!” Miriam said, placing a final box on the floor in front of Erich. Inside was a wooden train set. Each car featured a letter so that when hooked together, it spelled his name.

  “Gloria and I picked it out at the store with Mother,” Miriam boasted. Much more interested in the train than the bonnet and sweater, Erich rolled it back and forth while the girls provided sound effects. Choo-choo!

  With the presents concluded and the children’s bellies full, Marlene tidied up the kitchen before taking the little ones to bed. Erich fell asleep in Gerald’s lap, and Lara watched as her father gently shifted the boy in his arms as he stood to take him to his crib.

  Gerald was so warm with her son. Such a natural. Lara wondered if he’d been like that when she was first born.

  Observing the interactions between Gerald and Erich made her thoughts drift to Rubin. She often wondered what he was doing and where life had taken him over the past year. Was he still caught in the twisted grip of the Nazi regime? Her parents insisted Rubin was a traitor to his country, a dangerous man who shouldn’t be trusted. They’d done everything possible to erase his existence from her mind.

  But love is a powerful drug.

  Despite what her parents said, Lara held a soft spot for Rubin. She was horrified by his actions—he’d almost single-handedly thwarted their getaway—but she convinced herself there was a good person underneath. She’d seen it. She’d felt it. Somehow, in her mind, the moments of tenderness they shared meant more to her than his casual cruelty.

  I love you, Lara. You’re it for me.

  She got butterflies in her stomach whenever she thought of their rendezvous near the boat house, the night he’d first kissed her. He was so charming. She’d fallen hard—and fast. That was the first, but not the last. They’d used every chance possible to touch—sometimes just a brush of hands, other times, when they checked for onlookers, a caress. The lust had culminated in that small patch of grass in the clearing, where he’d taken her virginity and given her a child.

  Now, she couldn’t help but picture him as a father to their son. Erich deserved his real father. She was sure Rubin would be just as attentive to Erich as he was to her. If only she could tell him the truth.

  When Erich had been about six months old, a new family moved to the neighborhood. Friends along the street buzzed with the revelation that the family had come from Austria—just like the Weisses.

  “Oh, we must meet them!” Marlene said. “I hear they lived in Salzburg!”

  Always the consummate diplomat, Marlene was among the first to drop off a fresh loaf of bread and a welcome letter on the new neighbor’s doorstep the following morning.

  “They were so appreciative,” she told Gerald after her visit.

  “Must be that good Austrian breeding and manners.” He winked. “Let’s invite them for dinner.”

  “That’s a wonderful idea, Gerald.”

  And so the couple, along with their baby girl, squeezed around the Weiss dinner table on Friday evening. Gerald was right—they were cordial and polite. Amid bites of Käsespätzle, the adults spoke of Salzburg, discovering many connections between themselves.

  Lara listened intently, her heart aching for news of people she’d left behind. Desperate for updates, her zeal got the better of her.

  “Did you know a boy named Rubin?” she blurted only a few minutes into the main course. Hope twinkled in her eyes—she couldn’t help it.

  The man and woman, forks full of cheesy noodles to their mouths, stared at her blankly, and Lara quickly realized the absurdity of the question. There were hundreds of men in Salzburg named Rubin. How daft to think anyone would know a particular young man with blonde hair and broad shoulders.

  “Nevermind,” she mumbled.

  Gerald made meaningful eye contact with Marlene, then quickly changed the subject. Lara finished her meal in silence, picking around the crispy onions on top to the gooey gruyere below. As the dinner concluded, a sense of doom settled in her stomach for the lecture she anticipated.

  She was right.

  After the neighbors left, Gerald addressed Lara in private. The frustrated look on her father’s face said it all.

  “Lara…”

  “I’m sorry, Father, it just came out.”

  “We have to be careful.”

  “I know. I was just curious.”

  “You must forget about him, Lara.” He shook his head, exasperated.

  Her face dropped and her eyes became misty. “But I love him, father.”

  “Love? How can you say that? Remember what he did to us? He doesn’t care about you; that he made perfectly clear.”

  “He’s Erich’s father! Doesn’t that count for something?”

  “Shhhh, quiet,” he hissed, pressing a finger to his lips. “You know you can’t say that when the children are around.”

  Marlene entered the room and immediately consoled Lara who was now blubbering openly. The girl’s arms folded firmly across her chest, but Marlene hugged her anyway, stroking the hair that fell down the back of her neck.

  “My darling, your father is right. You have to move on. You have a bright future ahead of you and I know you’re going to find a wonderful man to love.” Albeit soft, she was also persuasive.

  “But I don’t want another man. I want Rubin. He said he loved me. We should be together—the three of us. I know he’d leave the Schutzstaffel if he knew about Erich. I know it. We could be a family.” The last words were no more than a whisper.

  Marlene sighed and looked to her husband.

  “It’s not possible.” Gerald’s response was terse. His voice deepened with anger. “You made choices, Lara, and now you must live with the consequences.” Marlene, shocked by his sternness, blinked as if she had misheard.

  Lara looked aghast, her eyes wide and mouth open. Before Marlene could mollify her husband’s brashness, Lara stormed from the room in tears. At the end of the hall, they heard a door slam shut—a familiar sound. Marlene turned, disappointed.

  “Oh, Gerald. A little compassion goes a long way.”

  Nine

  Erich’s first birthday marked a critical turning point for Lara. She’d spent the past year depressed—weaving in and out of a heavy fog, one so confining it felt like a cage without a key. The loneliness was crippling. Each day was a haze of emotion so confusing she often found herself falling into bed at night unable to pinpoint her true feelings. Was she bitter? Or was it regret she felt—topped off with a splash of hopelessness?

  At times she’d go days with a surprising turn of optimism, greeting the morning with a smile and maintaining a positive mood all day. These stretches teased her parent’s hopes that the girl had come to accept the reality of their situation. But they never lasted. A new day would dawn and Lara would fall yet again into a deep despair that bound her to her room.

  The children were perplexed by Lara’s behavior—the bright young woman they all looked up to ceased to exist. She was a shell of her former self.

  “What’s wrong with Lara?” they’d each ask, in one way or another, to which Marlene would respond, “Everyone has difficult phases in life. Just give her time.” Puzzled yet appeased, the children went on with their lives, hoping their sister would one day come back.

  Lara knew she was off. She felt it deep in her bones. But how could she possibly remain the same girl that lived so free and easy in Austria? New Lara had made dangerous decisions with heavy repercussions—ones her siblings could never understand. The life she knew was a lie, and the lie was slowly eating her from the inside out.

  As she lay in bed, she’d pull the quilt over her head and bury her face in the pillow to stifle the sounds
she’d lost control of. She cried for the unfairness of her plight and the lifetime of secrets to which she was sworn. When there were no more tears to be had, she’d fall asleep with her cheek against the dampness of her pillow only to wake the next morning to the same harsh light.

  But as her little boy’s first birthday came and went, something inside Lara shifted. The occasion seemed like such a significant point in not only Erich’s life, but hers, as well. She’d survived a full year of living in deception. A whole year!

  In some ways she felt the months had flown by in the blink of an eye. Hadn’t it just been yesterday when she’d given birth? So vivid was the sensation of his head crowning that a shiver tickled her spine when she thought of it. It was the most physically painful moment of her life; her body being ripped in half by the force of Erich barreling into the world.

  He wasn’t planned. But that didn’t mean he wasn’t wanted.

  She’d do it again in a heartbeat.

  The memories were fresh, the year not long enough to soften their edges. Yet, in the same breath, Erich’s birth felt like a lifetime ago. Hours ticked by, slow and forced, as if being pushed back by a powerful wind.

  One year felt like ten. And the future looked daunting. Lara questioned her ability to keep up the façade for decades to come. If a single year had been this difficult, how would she ever make it sixty more?

  Something needed to change. As the days following Erich’s birthday went on no differently than before, Lara knew she had to choose. With a renewed certainty, she made a silent vow to resolve her situation, regardless of the cost. She pledged to choose happiness.

  Even if her happiness brought heartache to others.

  ***

  The next morning, Marlene popped her head into Lara’s room just as the girl was buttoning her dress. Lara’s figure had snapped back quickly following Erich’s birth. The few pounds she’d gained melted off with ease, leaving her with the wispy waist and defined silhouette from before.

  “I’m leaving in a few minutes to take the children to school,” Marlene said. “Do you want to walk with us?” She predicted the answer, but always asked anyway.

  “I think I’ll stay here today.”

  There it is.

  Lara waited for her mother to ask if she’d keep an eye on Erich while she was gone, as Marlene often did.

  “Ok. Oh, I’m taking Erich, too. He could use some fresh air.”

  “Alright.”

  Lara was relieved, actually. Time with her son was typically savored, especially when she could strengthen their bond one on one. But on this day, Lara didn’t want any distractions. She needed to be alone, to concentrate. She had a mission, and it needed to be finished before her mother returned.

  Marlene and the children left through the front door, their voices fighting over one another in a slew of separate conversations. With Felix and Lena at friends’ homes, Lara found herself alone in the house, which was just as she’d planned.

  Once her family rounded the corner and was out of sight, Lara hurried to Gerald’s study and slid open the solid, pocket door. A generous mahogany desk sat in the center of the room, framed by built-in bookshelves stretching from floor to ceiling. The desk lamp with a rounded, green shade and delicate pull chain signaled the formality of the space.

  This was a private room. Lara felt like a trespasser, but her will drove her forward.

  She pulled open the first drawer of the desk to reveal a stack of crisp ivory stationery. She’d seen her father write correspondences on them, the black words soaking into the porous linen. Without room for a desk in her own room, much of the office supplies were housed in Gerald’s desk. He would have gladly shared with her had she asked. But that would mean revealing her reason—that, or lying once again.

  She couldn’t handle another lie.

  Taking a piece from the top, Lara took her father’s fountain pen and began to write. Her hand shook as the ink took shape.

  My dearest Rubin,

  I hope this letter finds you well and safe. I can hardly believe it’s been two years, as it seems like yesterday when we parted. So much has changed, and I want you to know that despite what happened, I forgive you. I believe you’re a good man, a man who made a mistake. But haven’t we all?

  I’ve missed you so, and often find myself dreaming of the time we spent together. I still feel the depth of love for you that I expressed all that time ago. What we had was real. And I know this because I have proof of it.

  Rubin, we have a son. His name is Erich and he was born eight months after my family left Austria. He has your smile and my dark hair. When I look at him, I see the love we once shared, and I desire nothing more than to be together as a family.

  If this letter finds you, I pray you will reply. Until then, I remain yours, faithfully.

  All my love,

  Lara

  She read through her words three times before feeling satisfied. Folding the sheet in half, she slipped the crisp paper into an envelope from the desk drawer. But where to send it? Where did he live?

  He’d been to her home in Salzburg many times, first as a grocery delivery boy and later as her secret suitor. It occurred to Lara in that moment that she’d never seen his house. Was it big and white? Modest and blue? Did he share a room with a sibling? Did he even have a sibling? It struck her how little she actually knew about the man she claimed to love.

  Small details, she assured herself.

  On the front of the envelope, Lara wrote the only address she knew that might land her letter into Rubin’s hands: an outpost where he’d once been stationed. She didn’t dare include a return address, but that didn’t matter—if it didn’t get to him this time, she knew no other address to try. This was her only shot. Instead, she added a postscript at the end of her letter, telling Rubin where he could reach her.

  Here is my address. I’ll wait with bated breath for your reply.

  Grabbing her coat and hat, Lara dashed out the door and down the sidewalk toward the post office—thankfully in the opposite direction of the school—where she could send the letter. She needed to be quick before her mother returned—or before her courage evaporated.

  The small brick building came into view, large block letters spelling “POST” across the archway. Lara was out of breath when she reached the mailbox. Her hand shook as she pulled the letter from her pocket. She stared at the white square grasped firmly between her fingers. If she did this, there would be no going back.

  With a deep sigh of resolve, she pushed the letter through the slot. As the envelope slipped from her fingertips into the collection bin, she watched it tumble in slow motion onto the pile of other outgoing mail, taking with it all her hopes and dreams.

  ***

  The weeks that followed were fresh torture. Each day Lara waited for the mail to be delivered, then eagerly sifted through each piece, searching for her name.

  Nothing came.

  Her faith lingered dangerously close to defeat. But just when it threatened to surrender completely, her heart found excuses for the lack of response.

  The letter was lost in transit.

  The letter was intercepted and never made it to Rubin.

  Rubin was no longer in the same position within the German military.

  What she refused to accept was the alternative: That Rubin had received her letter and chose not to reply.

  Ten

  Abright morning in April brought with it an upbeat mood to the Weiss home. Lara awoke to birds chirping outside her window—a sound she’d recently found so irritating. How dare the birds carry on so happily when she was so terribly miserable? Today, though, she welcomed the conversation between the little sparrows as a hopeful sign of spring and new beginnings.

  Maybe today’s the day.

  She peered out over the windowsill near her bed. Tulip sprouts pushed through the earth in the small courtyard below, begging to greet the spring air. Closing her eyes, Lara listened to Mother Nature’s orchestra: wind r
ustling through leaves, the rhythmic tap of a woodpecker against the trunk of a soaring oak.

  Everywhere she looked, things were living—if only she could join them.

  A squeal from somewhere in the house brought her back. Erich’s joyful laughter echoed through the hallway, making Lara’s heart lurch. He was her greatest accomplishment, causing her equal parts unbridled love and deep sorrow. In truth, it was Erich who kept her going—without him, she felt little reason to live.

  Standing from her bed, Lara reached her arms toward the ceiling and rolled her head around to stretch the muscles in her neck. She slipped into her plush robe and fastened the pastel pink tie into a knot at her waist.

  “Good morning!” Marlene said brightly as Lara entered the dining room. “Such a gorgeous day, the sun woke me up even earlier than usual.” Her mother was always so peppy and full of life, Lara wondered if the woman ever had a down day. (Marlene did, of course—she just chose not to show it).

  “Morning, Mother.”

  Bettina, Miriam and Gloria sat at the table, a bowl of steaming porridge in front of each of them. Gloria spooned a heap of brown sugar on top, licking her lips as it melted into a dark river among the oats. (“Would you like some oatmeal with your sugar?” her father would have joked had he seen it).

  Across from Gloria and her dessert breakfast, Lena bounced Erich on her knee, giving him bites from a small dish. A deep bowl of fresh fruit sat in the middle of the table, and Lara reached for a banana, peeling it while she spoke.

  “Where’s Felix?”

  “Still asleep,” Lena replied.

  “Karl?”

  “On his paper route.”

  “Oh, I forgot he was doing that now.”

  “Beautiful day for a long walk,” Marlene inserted, coming to join the children in the dining room.

  Bettina snickered under her breath. “A little exercise will do him good.”

  “Be kind, Bettina,” Marlene scolded. “No one likes a nasty tongue.”