With trembling hands, she clasped Max’s wrist and felt for a pulse but found nothing. Grief-stricken and gutted, she lowered her head to Max’s still chest and sobbed.
CHAPTER41
OLDENBURG, GERMANY—OCTOBER24, 1917
Anna, carrying a woven basket, entered the garden where Norbie and Nia were standing near a small row of withered plants. She watched Norbie, using the heel of his boot, sink a gardening fork into the earth and pry up a mound of soil. A memory of Max, hacking away at frozen earth to extract winter leeks, flashed in her head. Her chest ached.God, I miss him.
Norbie kneeled, crumbled the packed dirt with his hands, and removed several small potatoes. “We’ll have more than turnips this winter.”
Anna nodded. She helped him harvest potatoes, all the while thinking of her time with Max and wondering if the pain in her heart would ever go away.
They’d buried Max, per his wishes, in a Jewish cemetery in Leipzig, where his parents’ grave monument was located. A rabbi had conducted a short yet reflective service, which was attended by a small group of people, most of whom were former coworkers of his parents, given that all of Max’s friends were at war. After the service, Anna was approached by an attractive, gray-haired woman holding an envelope who introduced herself as Magdalena, a former friend of Max’smutter. “I helped Max with updating his last will and testament,” the woman had said. “He didn’t have much, but he wanted you to have everything.” Anna, her eyes blurred with tears, accepted the envelope. But rather than going back to his apartment to begin the heart-wrenching task of sorting through Max’s things, she returned to Oldenburg with Norbie and Nia.
Anna had grieved with Norbie in their home for a week, much likeshiva, a Jewish seven-day mourning period. But the time and family comfort did little, if anything, to relieve her sorrow. She returned alone to Leipzig the following week to sort through Max’s estate, and she was shocked to find that his apartment had been ransacked. Most of the kitchen and living room items were missing, save the grand piano, and his clothes were strewn over the floor. The worst loss, for Anna, was that the manuscript toLight Suitewas gone.I should have stayed here and taken care of things for Max.Anna, filled with blame and heartache, cleaned out Max’s apartment, donated his piano to the Royal Conservatory of Music of Leipzig, where he’d gone to school, and left for home.
Anna and Norbie were not the only ones suffering grief. Since returning home, Nia had little interest in playing, going on long walks, or receiving belly rubs. She’d lost her appetite, and her ribs were beginning to show through her coat. Also, the dog often went off to be alone, and most of the time Anna would find her lying on the floor of the bedroom where Max had stayed during his training. Even visits from Emmi, who spent most evenings helping Anna process her grief, did little to raise Nia’s spirts. Anna was disheartened by Nia’s distress, and she wished that there was something she could do to ease her dog’s pain.
Norbie placed down his gardening fork and wiped sweat from his brow. “Would you like something to drink?”
“Nein,danke,” Anna said, placing potatoes into her basket.
Norbie nodded and went inside the house.
Anna glanced to Nia, lying in the corner of the garden with her chin on her paws. She stood, walked to Nia—who made no effort to move or wag her tail—and then sat. Anna dusted dirt from her hands, and then stroked Nia’s fur. “You miss him, don’t you?”
Nia’s eyebrows twitched.
“I miss him, too.” Anna drew a jagged breath. “Some days, I feel like I can’t get out of bed.”
The dog blinked her eyes, staring forward.
“I’m thinking that you are feeling the same way.” Anna gently rubbed the dog’s ears. “It’s all right to feel sad. I’m here for you, and we’ll get through this together.”
Nia raised her head and licked Anna’s hand.
Tears welled up in Anna’s eyes. She leaned in and hugged her.
“Anna,” Norbie said, stepping into the garden. “You have a visitor.”
Anna released Nia and wiped her cheeks.
“Hallo, Fräulein Zeller,” a deep voice said.
Anna’s skin prickled. She scrambled to her feet and dusted her clothing. “Herr Fleck.”
Fleck removed his cap. “I can come back later if this isn’t a good time for you.”
“Now is fine,” Anna said, attempting to gather her composure.
Norbie looked at Anna. “I’ll be inside if you need anything.” He turned and entered the house.
Fleck approached Anna. “I’m sorry about Max.”
Her chest tightened. “Danke.”
“How are you?” he asked.
“To be honest,” she said, “I’m devastated.”
