The Plum Tree Read Online Free PDF

embroidered with white edelweiss and purple hearts. Christine thought it odd that she was wearing an outfit usually reserved for weddings and festivals, and wondered where she was going. Then she noticed that Kate’s pale, porcelain complexion was pinked with the easy flush of red-haired girls, and her green eyes looked glassy. She seemed out of breath, and, with one slender arm out to the side, looked like she was holding something out of Christine’s view.
    “What are you doing here?” Kate said, pushing stray pieces of hair from her damp forehead. She stole a glance to the side, then giggled in a high, unnatural squeal.
    “What’s going on?” Christine said. “Who’s in there with you?”
    “I really don’t have time to talk right now,” Kate said. From inside, a male voice mumbled, and Kate giggled again. Then, changing her mind, she said, “Promise you won’t tell? You know Mutti would have the vapors if she knew.”
    Kate was an only child, fussed over by a fragile mother prone to headaches and dizzy spells that could only be cured by long hours in a dark bedroom. Her father, who owned a bakery and was older than Christine’s father by fifteen years, did little more than roll his eyes at his wife’s tendency toward drama and overprotectiveness.
    “You know I won’t,” Christine said, wishing she’d gone straight home.
    Smiling as if she’d won a grand prize, Kate pulled the young man into view, her pale hand gripping the open collar of his white shirt. His light blond hair was tousled, his thick lips red and chafed. Wearing black trousers and a navy vest similar to the outfit Isaac wore to Universität, he wrapped his arms around Kate’s waist, resting his chin on her shoulder, and studied Christine with brackish-blue eyes.
    “This is Stefan Eichmann,” Kate said. “He was in fifth grade when we were in third, remember? He moved to Berlin the summer before sixth grade. But, lucky for me, he just moved back.”
    Christine held out a hand. “Guten Tag,” she said. “I’m sorry. I don’t remember you.”
    “I don’t remember you either,” Stefan said, ignoring her outstretched hand. Dreamy-eyed, he pulled Kate closer, nuzzling her ear. Christine buried her hands in her coat pockets and squeezed Isaac’s stone in her fist.
    “Stefan and I ran into each other at the butcher shop yesterday,” Kate said, playfully batting Stefan’s lips away from her ear. “We found out we’ve got a lot in common. He’s teaching me English, and he’s promised to take me to the theater in Berlin!”
    “How lucky for you,” Christine said. “Well, it was nice to meet . . .”
    “He can get free tickets!” Kate interrupted, squealing and practically bouncing up and down. “His father used to run one of the theaters there!”
    “Your father must be an important man,” Christine said, trying to think of an excuse to leave.
    But then, Kate froze and bit her lip. She glanced back at Stefan. “Stefan’s father died last year,” she said, her voice flat. “That’s why he and his mother moved back here.”
    Christine felt her face growing warm. “I’m sorry,” she said. “ Bitte, accept my sympathy for your loss.”
    Stefan straightened and jerked his head to one side, as if trying to work out a kink in his neck. “He left me and my mother penniless,” he said, screwing up his mouth as if the words were laced with arsenic. “It was no loss.”
    Christine couldn’t think of anything to say. She’d never heard anyone say such things about one of his or her parents, especially a dead parent. “Well,” she said, turning to make her escape. “I really should be going. I’m sorry I dropped by unannounced. It was nice to meet you, Stefan.”
    “Wait,” Kate said. “What did you want?”
    “It was nothing,” Christine said, hurrying down the steps. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”
    “All right,” Kate said. “Auf Weidersehen!”
    Christine ran the four blocks toward home, then hurried