The Day the Flowers Died Read Online Free PDF Page B

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