The Day the Flowers Died

by Ami Blackwelder

  “It’s beautiful here. I’ve never been to this park.” Rebecca scanned the greenery.

  “I thought you’d like it. You said you never have enough time to smell the roses. So, I thought I’d take you to them.”

  Rebecca pulled her hand from his and lifted it to caress his shaven jaw. Watching his eyes focus on her lips, she recognized the longing on his face, certain hers mirrored it. Her mouth rose up to his ear and breathed a whisper,

  “I love this dimple in your chin.” She played in it with her pinky finger.

  “Maybe we should conceal this moment for only us.” His eyes searched the mothers’ faces of the park, but the twinkle in his eye belied his frown.

  “That would probably be wise.” She slid her hands up his chest, pulled his coat lapels down and placed a tender kiss on his bottom lip. Before she could move to the top one, he wrapped his arms around her waist and pressed her close, returning her kiss, deepening it.

  “Well, now I guess we broke our rules,” he said when he finished the kiss.

  “I guess so.” She stood in his embrace, unable to concentrate on anything but the smell of his cologne, the strength of his arms, and the taste of his lips. Then, stepping away, she twirled like a pinwheel, arms outstretched, into the park. She reminded Eli of a dancer, until she settled on an empty wooden bench where he quickened to sit next to her.

  He crossed his legs and she crossed her ankles, both turning to face the other. Their hands interlaced on top of their legs, making it difficult to tell which set of hands belonged to whom. Eli took one hand to brush his dark hair back and then placed his hand over Rebecca’s delicate fingers. Gallivanting children’s laughter permeated the park and nothing but their innocent sounds intruded the quiet morning.

  “How did I get along in life before meeting you?” Eli asked half in jest and half seriously. They moved closer with each breath they took as if touch alone could make them warmer in this cold weather.

  Eli lifted his pinky finger to Rebecca to brush a few hairs dangling over her mouth, and nestled them behind her ear.

  Rebecca inspected his chin with her eyes and then her forefinger. “Ah…I think I’ve found a hair you’ve missed this morning.” She left her finger on his chin.

  “Really?”

  “A stowaway,” she said, convincing him.

  He raised his hand to feel the hair when a knit hat flew across the grass, getting caught beneath the bench. One of the children without his bonnet ran up and bent to grab it. Eli picked it up for him, handing it with a childlike gesture.

  “Here you go.” The child nodded, grabbed it and ran off.

  “No thank you?” Rebecca remarked with a grin.

  “Never mind. He’s just a kid.”

  “Who’ll grow up to be an uncouth adult!”

  “We’ll hope for better,” Eli said with a hint of humor. They watched the child of six or seven return to his friends. He tugged on his knit hat while his mother’s eyes peered at the bench, then returned to her son. Eli drew away from Rebecca in the most minuscule of measurements, so much so that even he didn’t know he’d done it.

  “If my father knew I was here in the park on Shabbos instead of synagogue, I think he’d come here himself and drag me there.”

  “He doesn’t attend Munich’s Synagogue?”

  “No, he lives nearly outside of Munich. He takes the family to a smaller synagogue closer to his home.”

  “He is traditional?”

  “You could say that,” Eli said, implying his strictness stemmed from more than mere tradition. Rebecca giggled. “Maybe he is not that bad, but he could give me a little more room to breathe, to spread my wings and live my own life.”

  “He is your father; fathers only want what’s best for their sons. I’m sure he means well.”

  “He does. That’s what makes it all the more awful.” Eli smiled in his words and, unnoticed to himself, moved closer to Rebecca.

  “Do you have to work later today?” Rebecca asked, hoping the answer to be no.

  “My father closes the business every Shabbos, from Friday evening to Saturday evening.”

  “Then I get you all to myself.” Rebecca reached to his chin and, with more bravery than usual, brushed her soft forefinger up his jaw line and over his lips.

  Eli blinked, forgetting himself in public, and leaned in to kiss her. Catching himself, he lifted the side of his trench coat to cover them from the mothers in the distance, as if his coat somehow secluded them from the rest of the world. Rebecca laughed, forgetting to cover her mouth and Eli enjoyed seeing her sizable, white teeth.

  The early morning approached noon and Eli accompanied Rebecca up the street for lunch. A panhandler squatted outside the diner, holding a small pan in his dirty hands, and wearing ripped black trousers, probably his only pair. Eli reached into his pockets and pulled out loose change, tossing it into his dish before opening the door for Rebecca.

  “Thank you, kind sir,” the panhandler said.

  Eli smiled and turned to escort her inside. They jumped to the side when a waiter dashed out the door, motivated by yells of the owner to “move that bum away from my place of business!” The waiter dragged the panhandler up and asked him to leave the street, his eyes filled with a silent apology.

  “Can’t a man make a living anymore?” the beggar grunted, stuffing the money from the pan into his pockets, then waddled away with a limp in his left leg.

  The owner behind the counter watched Eli and Rebecca select a table by the window. Dressed in common white pants and beige shirt, his tall frame made its way to their table.

  “Eli, it’s nice to see you today. How’s business going for you?”

  “I can’t complain. So many have been hit hard by the crashing stock market.”

  “Yes, yes. It’s a real shame.” The owner didn’t try to build any façade of real concern. “Here are your menus.” He smiled into his mustache and headed behind the counter.

  “A compassionate man,” Rebecca remarked with sarcasm.

  “Yes, the sincerity is overwhelming,” Eli returned her humor.

  Studying Eli’s face, she admired his sculptured features in privacy, a jagged nose, bushy brows, and defined cheeks. When he glanced up, her gaze darted to her menu.

  “How do you know him?” she asked.

  “I used to eat here on occasion with my father.” He stopped to give the waiter their orders.

  When the waiter left, she asked, “How did things go for you when you arrived at your mama’s party?”

  “The eating had slowed and the drinking had intensified. Many of my relatives were there, so when I slid in, no one missed me. I didn’t have such luck with my mama, though.” He made a funny grimace. “She made it very clear I’d better be there for the entire celebration next year or she may disown her only son.”

  Rebecca’s face grew alarmed.

  “She doesn’t really mean it. She says something like that at least once a year.” His voice went up an octave into a motherly tone, “Eli, you’d better make it to Shabbos this morning or I’m going to have to disown my only son and you know what a heartache that will be for me.”

  Eli moved his hands in sway and wrinkled his forehead, imitating his concerned mother. “Eli, the Seder for Pesach is only a couple days away and you still haven’t gotten the bitter herbs, the eggs, or the chicken I requested. Am I going to have to disown my only son? Don’t do this to your mother.” He finished with a pointing, wavering forefinger, making Rebecca laugh at his antics. He settled when the waiter set his pastrami on rye in front of him, and Rebecca enjoyed her chicken sandwich. She tore the sandwich into tiny pieces, then placed one into her mouth, savoring each taste.

  When they finished with lunch, he waved away the waiter’s offer for coffee.

  “The meal was delicious. Thank you so much, Eli.”

  “It was my pleasure.” Eli picked up the tab and they ambled towards their apartment building. Rebecca let go of Eli’s hands just before he op
ened the door to the brown brick building.

  “So, I’ll see you later. I have to get going. My parents are expecting me to visit them this weekend,” Rebecca reminded.

  “Yes, of course. I almost forgot. I’ll see you later then.” Eli reached to her cheek and kissed her once. Rebecca turned away to hail a cab and, before she jumped into it, she glanced at Eli to find him still watching her.

  “Thank you again for the tulip. It’s lovely,” she said, then the cab door shut and she disappeared. When the cab drove up to Rebecca’s home just outside of Munich, she felt that familiar knot in her stomach, hoping to avoid another argument with her mother this time. The driver stopped in front of a large, lavish home on a street filled with other large, lavish homes. It had been several months since her last visit, before meeting Eli. A maid in black garb and a white apron rushed out the front doors, waving and calling out to Rebecca.

  “It’s good to have you back with us.” She spoke with a light Austrian accent, her blond red hair twisted underneath her white bonnet and only strands of it escaped around her face.

  “Mildred!” Rebecca’s smile widened and she hugged her.

  “No luggage, Ms. Baum?”

  “Please call me Rebecca. Just because I’ve moved out, Mildred, it doesn’t mean you have to go back to formalities.” Mildred’s rounded cheeks puffed pink from the cold weather.

  “Yes, Rebecca,” she said with a servitude tone. A tall man with a receding gray-blond hairline stumbled out of the front doors and embraced Rebecca.

  “Papa!” Rebecca kissed him on the cheek and he took her hand as they walked together.

  “The daughter whom I haven’t seen in ages.”

  “It’s only been a couple months.”

  “You’re going to have to tell us all about your adventures in Munich and University. Your mama is excited to talk with you. She found someone you’ll really like.”

  “Papa, I don’t need setting up,” she declared through gritted teeth, “Besides, I’ve already found someone.” Her voice softened.

  “Really? You’re going to have to bring him home sometime and let us meet him.” Father and daughter stopped inside the entryway, where she took off her coat.

  A tall woman wrapped in a long, grey, silky dress walked through a swinging door and into the entryway, arms extended. “Rebecca.” She glided over to her daughter and kissed her once on each cheek.

  “Mutti.” Rebecca tried to ease the tension inside as she hugged her.

  “I’ve found someone for you,” she whispered into her daughter’s ears. “He comes from a long line of strong German ancestry. His family is well off and he is so polite and well mannered. You’re going to love him.”

  “Mutti, slow down.” Rebecca rushed her words, “As I was telling Papa…I’ve found someone in Munich.”

  “Ah!” Her mother shook Rebecca’s arm in delight. “Courted by two men. Maybe there is hope for you yet, my darling. You’re going to have to let us meet this stranger,” she rushed her thoughts in excitement, “Perhaps this Christmas. It’s coming up quickly.”

  “Perhaps, Mutti. I’ll have to see what he’s doing. He’s a lawyer and they get busy.” Rebecca offered the detail of Eli’s profession early, hoping to soothe her mother’s expectations and satiate her appetite for more details. But this information only teased her mother for more. She walked with Rebecca, holding onto her arm, into the dining area for a proper discussion. Rebecca’s father headed into his study to read, wanting to avoid his wife’s gossip. After dinner, he could spend more time with Rebecca.

  The two women wandered onto the balcony patio while sipping tea. Rebecca’s mother kept her busy with questions of matrimony and University well into the early evening. Rebecca bit her lip when she told small white lies to keep her mother happy. Her mind fluttered back to moments she spent with Eli and somehow the time flew without agitation and with dinner almost served.

  Dinner brought a welcomed interruption for Rebecca, and her father made it known he intended to dominate the conversation by a loud clearing of his throat.

  “You are happy in Munich?” He filled his plate with the assortment of foods brought by the chef and servants.

  “Yes, very much, Papa. It’s so busy, I’m rarely ever bored.”

  “Your studies are going well?”

  “I’ve almost completed my courses. By summer next year I should graduate.”

  “That’s very good.” He paused for a sip of wine. “So, what is this I hear about a new man in your life?” Her father, always predictably direct, arched an eyebrow.

  Rebecca knew she’d have to answer the plethora of questions from her parents. She came prepared with the easiest and most accurate answers, though not necessarily completely truthful.

  “He’s a lawyer, working for his father. He graduated from Ludwig Maximilians two years ago.” She emphasized his university. “He’s smart and funny, too.” She laughed in thought of some of their conversations.

  “So when will we meet him?”

  “Soon, I hope. Mutti wants me to bring him down for Christmas, but I have to see what his plans are then.”

  “Well, don’t keep him away too long or your mama might just make arrangements for your wedding with…what is his name…?” Her father looked to her mother.

  “Carl,” her mother said through her teeth, disappointed that no one could remember the name of the young man she chose for Rebecca.

  Rebecca laughed at her father’s remark, hiding her large teeth behind her hands.

  “Dear, you know it’s impolite to laugh at the table while we are trying to have a serious conversation,” her mother fussed, quick to point out Rebecca’s fault.

  “Yes, Mutti.”

  Her father glanced at Rebecca and the two shared a secret smile.

  Rebecca headed to her room after dinner, which had remained the same since the day she left. Many of her old clothes still hung in the closet and many of her favorite toiletries still lingered on the vanity and in the bathroom. She prepared for bed and let her head fall to her thick feather pillows while pulling up the Egyptian silk comforter over her body. Recounting the evening, she felt happy that she avoided all the anxiety ridden questions.

  Sunday morning, her mother made her dress in her Sunday’s best to attend mass at the Lugwigskirche Catholic church. The dress buttoned to the very top of Rebecca’s neck and draped in length, covering her ankles.

  They sat in the second row near the front; her parents sat on either side of her. She felt squeezed by proper society while sitting tightly between them. Peering ahead at the tall brown worn wooden pulpit, she waited for the priest to give his sermon. Mass was long, even longer then Rebecca’s work day at the diner. After mass, her parents drove her back to their home up a long high hill and parked their black Daimler-Benz. “Mildred!” Her mother called out to the maid who still remained only the help since her hiring twenty years ago. Mildred raced to the Benz, dusting off her apron with her hands.

  “Yes, Mrs. Baum, may I do something for you?”

  “I need help getting inside. My feet are swelling underneath me.” Rebecca’s mother clung onto her like a patient to a doctor stepping in her high heels over the grains of pebble and sand until she reached the door. “Thank you, Mildred.” She let go of the maid’s arm and plodded into the large house. Rebecca and her father walked arm in arm over the bumpy walkway. At the door, Rebecca kissed her father on his cheek and announced her departure.

  “I’ve got to get going. I don’t want to get back into Munich too late.”

  “Certainly, dear.” Her father smiled cordially and her mother scampered back to the front door and asked in motherly disappointment, “Leaving so quickly?”

  “I’m sorry, but with the traffic I would like to make it to my apartment before dark.”

  “I’ll see you at Christmas then. Don’t forget to bring your special someone. We’re looking forward to meeting him.” Rebecca hugged her mother, who kissed her again on both cheek
s, then headed to the front gate for the waiting taxi. In the cab, Rebecca stared out the window, watching the scenery of lush living fade the closer she got to Munich. In the city, she drove past a struggling mix of the homeless, now abundant on the streets, and knew the employed lived inside the warm buildings.

  Once home, she rushed upstairs to get her bag of laundry to wash by hand in her bathroom. Normally, Rebecca would have more time to finish up her menial tasks, but since she kept a promise to see her parents and go with them to service, the day offered less time then she hoped and her legs couldn’t move her fast enough.

  She laid her apron out in the bathroom, knowing it wouldn't be dry in time if she didn’t wash it first when she returned with groceries. She heard a few steps in the apartment above her and wondered if Eli was home yet from his day. Without hesitation in her step, she smiled at the ceiling and then headed outside for fresh air before the evening caught up with her.

  Sunday, November 8, 1931

  Rebecca and Eli ambled down the chilly sidewalk hand in hand, their bodies close enough to keep each other warmer than if they walked alone. Rebecca fiddled with her rose colored knit hat her mother gave her. Benches lined the sidewalk outside the park and they cozily sat side by side on one in the middle.Eli wrapped his arm around Rebecca and saw her nose turning a fast red. He rubbed it with his hands, a task Rebecca was becoming familiar with. Laughing at her easy vulnerability to the cold, he took off his long strapped, leather brown bag carrying a few books and laid it across his legs. He took out a book, laid his head on her lap and gazed up at her. Though certainly taboo, being around her made him feel free. Caressing his face, her fingers touched his cheeks and forehead and then circled around to his chin.

  “Feels like you've missed a shave again,” Rebecca remarked without feeling she would offend him.

  “You are a very perceptive young woman.” He raised an index finger in emphasis. “I'll have to remedy my error later.”

  “No error,” she smiled wide. “I kind of like it, all rough and manly.”

  She lowered her head to his and Eli planned to give her a peck on the lips. Yet, after their lips touched, he lingered there and then laid his head back on the warmth of her lap garbed in a thick dark wool skirt. Eli opened the book.