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“Is that a rabbit?” I said blankly.
“Two,” she chuckled.
“Where on earth are you taking those?” I asked her, and Martha shrugged.
“There’s a poor family on my block with a new baby on the way. Adele insisted I take this breeding pair of rabbits for them. They’ll have fresh meat for the babe next summer.”
Adele was savvy, hardworking, stubborn, and compassionate. It stung sometimes that she seemed capable of boundless love for strangers, but she still seemed to have little affection for me.
“Sofie, you and I also know that my nephew is a man of great intelligence...but he is not without his limitations.” Adele sighed heavily. “We both know he’s unlikely to ever find work outside of academia, and even when the economy stabilizes, your family income will be modest. What isyour plan for the future?”
“We’re getting by,” I said stiffly. But she wasn’t wrong about Jürgen’s employment prospects. His undergraduate focus was engineering and physics, but he’d focused his postgraduate studies narrowly around rockets—a technology that remained in its infancy. The last time I went to a space society launch, I’d watched the little prototype fly as high as forty or fifty feet, then tilt alarmingly to fall right back down toward the group of men who’d designed it, sending them all scattering in a panic. No onewas going to pay him to play with dangerous toys.
“Why don’t you take whatever money you have left and remodel, as I did? You could sell or rent the top floors as apartments.”
“No one is buying apartments now, Aunt Adele,” I pointed out.
“A house is always worth something, Sofie, even in a bad market,” she said patronizingly. “Now, if you werereallysmart, you could sell the whole lot and move in here.”
“Are some of your tenants leaving?”
“No one is leaving,” she said abruptly. “I meant you could move into this apartment with me. It would be a little cramped—”
“A little cramped?” I repeated incredulously. When Jürgen was a child, she gave him the sole bedroom while she slept on the sofa in her kitchen. Did she think I could put my children in her bathtub to sleep each night? “Aunt Adele, that’s a very generous offer, but it’s just not practical. We wouldn’t fit here. And where would Mayim go?”
“She’d have to go home, of course, but the rest of you could live here for free. You could live off the profit from the sale of your home for a long time if you were careful with it, regardless of what happens with Jürgen’s job—”
“Father borrowed against the villa when the market was high,” I interrupted her, flushing. “If we sell it now, we lose my family home andwe still walk away with a debt. All we can do is hold on and hope things turn around.”
“Wishful thinking is not a plan—”
“But wishful thinkingis all I have left,” I snapped. I spun back to the kettle and moved it off the heat too fast, splashing drops of scalding water onto my skin. I cursed and dropped the kettle into the sink, then ran cold water over my hand. Small, angry spots appeared on my skin, but it wasn’t a bad burn—my pride hurt more than my hand. Adele rose, approached me slowly, and peered over my shoulder at my hand.
“You know it is my intention to die in this house, just as I was born here. But, Sofie, attachment to our family homes doesn’t mean we can’t adapt. You simply must find a better way forward.”
I didn’t stay for tea. I packed the children up and left to nurse my aching wrist and my bruised pride at home.
When Karl invited us to meet him and Lydia for a picnic on Saturday morning, Jürgen and I were of two minds about accepting their invitation.
“He might have news about this job, and it would be good to know one way or another,” Jürgen said heavily. “Besides, I want to ask them what their thoughts are on these new laws.” The Nazi government utilized the Enabling Act and passed the Law for Rectification of the Distress of Nation and Reich. It allowed the chancellor and his cabinet to create legislation and to enshrine it in law without the support of the parliament. Hitler argued that this was necessary to bring stability, but to me it seemed increasingly apparent that whatever instability we were suffering from was by his design and at his pleasure.
“What if we don’t like their answers?” I said hesitantly.
“Then at least we’ll know the friendship is over,” Jürgen sighed.
That was how we found ourselves spread out on a rug beneath an ancient red oak tree in the park between our homes, eating rye bread thick with cultured butter and salami with soft cheese. Karl and Lydia left their young twins, Horst and Ernst, at home with their nanny, but Georg and their four-year-old son, Hans, were running circles around the rug. I invited Mayim, but she opted to stay home with Laura.
We spent a few minutes catching up—discussing the children’s antics and swapping pleasantries. Lydia and Karl were both profusely apologetic for their unavailability over the past few months.
“This country has been adrift for far too long. We knew we needed to do our part to ensure our national future,” Lydia offered by way of explanation.
“How do you feel about...?” I began. Then I broke off. It felt so awkward to raise the subject of the new government’s tolerance for violence against the Jews, and I wasn’t quite sure why that was, given I’d always thought of Karl and Lydia as reasonable people, and I was still hopeful they were as quietly as horrified by it all as Jürgen and I were. I tried again. “I was wondering what your thoughts are on...”
“You’re concerned about the new laws, especially in the context of the Nazi racial policies, aren’t you?” Karl said, flashing me a gentle smile. I nodded, and he added, “Aligning oneself with a political party always requires a degree of compromise.”
“You aren’t concerned that Hitler now rules a dictatorship?” Jürgen asked skeptically. Karl shook his head.
“The parliament is so hostile to this new government—how else could the Party bring stability but to bypass them?”
