American Dreams Read Online Free PDF Page B

tailored suit with a shoe-top hemline.
    Though long skirts with dust ruffles were still common, they were in her opinion dirt- and mud-catchers. She couldn't tolerate men who sneered at shorter skirts, and the women who wore them, as 'rainy-daisies.' On a nasty day like this, how could they be such idiots?
    She drew off her long mauve gloves, still amused. 'You are a wicked child sometimes, liebchen. Several other people enjoyed your little impersonation.
    They must know Rudolf.'
    'Well,' Fritzi said with an airy shrug, 'bullies deserve whatever they get.
    Rudolf thumped me on the head once.'
    'Is that so? When?'
    'When I was little. I was here with you and Papa. You were both talking with the Leiter family. Rudolf came by and hissed like a snake -- I mustn't fold my leg under me and sit on it! I don't remember what I said, but he thumped me, like this.' She flicked her middle finger off her thumb.
    lisa laughed in spite of her tense state. She'd brought her daughter to the restaurant with serious intent. She knew Fritzi was unhappy. It was no sudden flash of insight; she'd known for months. She remembered her daughter in better times. When Fritzi was content, she wasn't restless.
    She seldom frowned, and her brown eyes glowed; everyone succumbed to her lighthearted charm. Fritzi wasn't a conventional beauty, to be sure, but she had a shining prettiness born of good humor, keen wits, and an inner lisa's Worry
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    ruceness that people quickly sensed. To lisa's regret, no suitable young man had discovered those good qualities. At least she knew of none.
    'I confess I was feeling like a caged tiger all morning,' Fritzi said as she opened her menu. 'I was ever so glad you thought of coming downtown for luncheon.'
    'Piffle, not luncheon, that's for little birds. We'll have a proper Mittagessen. This is a German establishment, after all.'
    German to a fault, with a strolling accordion player in lederhosen and a green Tyrolean hat, fresh flowers on spotless white tablecloths, massive shelf displays of foot-high beer steins, and an overabundance of cuckoo clocks that tweeted and bonged with annoying regularity.
    lisa regarded the menu through rimless bifocals connected by a chain to a matching gold case pinned to her formidable bosom. 'Many fine specialities here, liebchen. I really hope you will eat something substantial. If you don't mind my saying so, you are too thin.'
    Fritzi pulled a face. 'You mean not enough chest.'
    LAch. Such bold language everyone uses these days.'
    'It's a new age, Mama. It's all right to say words like leg and bosom.'
    'Well, I don't agree, and I for one understand too little of this so-called new age. Now, what shall we eat? The liver and dumplings are good.' lisa nodded toward some fish mournfully awaiting their fate in a lighted tank.
    'Also the carp.'
    'Believe me, Mama, I do eat properly. I stuff like a horse sometimes. It never seems to put on weight where I need it.'
    lisa leaned forward to pat Fritzi's hand. 'I recently saw something at Field's that might be helpful. Christmas is coming.'
    It pleased lisa when Fritzi ordered a decent meal of beefsteak, potatoes, and string beans, lisa chose carp, preceded by noodle soup. She asked for a bottle of Liebfraumilch. She raised her first glass of the sweet wine, clinked it with Fritzi's. ''Prosit.'1 The wine slid down golden-warm, buffing a little of the edge off her nerves. She was worried about Fritzi's future in a profession that was not secure, or even respectable. Unlike German parents of long ago, lisa and her husband couldn't direct or influence Fritzi's life, though lisa was concerned enough to make an attempt.
    Before she could, Fritzi asked, 'Have you heard from cousin Paul?'
    'No, only from Julie. You know Pauli, always dashing somewhere with his camera. Julie said she is marching and demonstrating with Mrs.
    Pankhurst's organization.' lisa's expression suggested a lack of enthusiasm Page 30

    for the militant British suffragists.