The Day the Flowers Died (2 page)

“That’s wonderful.” He played with his tie. “Are you about
finished?”

“Next summer.” She glanced into the street and noticed cars
rushing to get home from work.  Then she returned her gaze to
Eli and shifted her weight to her back foot.  “What about you,
what do you do?”

“I’m helping the family business.” He kept his sentences
short.  “The only son.” He rolled his eyes.  “The
eldest.” His lips wiggled a bit and then he finished, “my father
wants me to learn the business.  I finished school at the
University of Ludwig Maximilians a year ago, business school. 
Didn’t have much choice in the matter.” He wiped his chin.

“Don’t you hate that, parents choosing our lives for us?” He
chuckled at the way her nose wrinkled in frustration as her lashes
batted toward the sky.

“How about your parents? Did they force you into nursing?”

Rebecca laughed at his question and, out of habitual high class
expectation, covered her mouth with her hand again.

“No, no.  I fought to convince my mutti I was not destined
to be a house wife.”

“At least you convinced them.  I can’t even get a word in
edgewise with my father.” The guffaw of both faded into a
comfortable silence which they rested in before Eli cleared his
throat.  “So, I guess you were on your way upstairs before I
interrupted you?”

“No intrusion.  Thank you for the letter.  I don’t
know what’s wrong with the postman these days.  This is the
second letter I haven’t received.  At least this one found
me.”

“Let me walk you back to the door.  It looks like it’s
about to rain.” Eli opened his grey umbrella in his left
hand.  The rain began to pour and the beads dropped and slid
off the grey cascading canopy.  Eli kept most of the umbrella
on Rebecca’s side and walked her to the front metal door where the
apartment ledge offered another canopy from the rain.  Rebecca
reached for the doorknob and then turned around.

“It was a real pleasure speaking with you.  At least now we
won’t be strangers.”

“True,” Eli smiled, “and if I get any more of your mail, I’ll
drop by your room.” Rebecca beamed at his suggestion with a certain
flirtation familiar to Eli from other women while at
University.

“Maybe I’ll stop by later in the week,” Eli said with a tone of
propriety, “perhaps when we’re both free?” He paused for her
answer.

She grinned and her brows rose.  “I’d like that.” They each
stepped toward the other, without realizing it, with peering,
inquisitive eyes and felt each other’s breath on their skin. 
As they each recognized their own indiscriminate and eager draw to
the other, they both stepped backward and allowed the conservative
city to intervene between them.

“I have to go.” Eli blinked and retreated and Rebecca twirled to
go inside, her long hair bouncing at her sudden movement.  Eli
took in a deep breath of her, the woman he had seen for months,
wishing he had the courage to speak with her.  He turned
towards the street with a jaunty smile.

Rebecca ran up four flights of stairs to her apartment. 
The door squeaked opened to a musty room with a variety of room
deodorizers.  She pulled the roses from her paper bag and took
out a clear crystal vase to fill with water.  She arranged the
roses in the vase and set it on her kitchen table.

“There, perfect.” She moved the vase a bit to the left so it sat
in the center.  Picking up a washrag, she wiped down the table
and dusted off her small vanity and dresser chest against the
living room wall.  In a brief moment, she studied a picture
resting on the dresser, a picture she imagined through the black
and white exterior of a blond, blue-eyed doting father and dark
haired, blue-eyed mother holding their hairless blue-eyed baby
wrapped in a thick quilt.

“I’ll see you guys soon.” After pressing a kissed fingertip to
the photo, she strolled to her bedroom. Minimal furnishings
scattered through the small one bedroom apartment, which Rebecca
preferred; it allowed her more space to move about.  After
showering, she pulled out a plate of chicken with broccoli from the
fridge and sat on her white sofa to eat it cold.  For company,
she watched her British 1928 Baird Model “C” television set,
without sound. Her father, with adamant resistance from her mother,
bought it for a birthday gift a couple years ago after his business
trip to London.  He always bought her expensive presents, even
during the Depression, since his mind for business kept his family
living an affluent lifestyle.

She sat with her legs curled underneath her, admiring the
mahogany detail of the television’s cabinetry. It was a wooden
rectangle, styled with long legs and ornate glass circles at each
high corner.  It was the subject of much talk in the building
and her friends were envious of her to receive such an expensive
gift.  The reception came in by electro-mechanisms and, though
it carried no sound, the pictures kept her entertained. She sifted
through many channels of white fuzz until finding a black and white
silent program. After watching for several minutes, her eyelids
drooped and she fell asleep.

Over next few days, Eli and Rebecca caught each other’s glances
in the hallway, while one was leaving and the other was coming
in.  Occasionally Eli said, “have a good day.” Rebecca would
smile and wave, motioning she had to depart.  But minutes and
stolen moments were all they had that week.

Upon the weekend, Rebecca nestled on her sofa to watch
television that evening.  Someone tapped on her door a few
times.  She pulled her hair to one side, letting it dangle
over her left shoulder, and straightened her knee length skirt and
silk white shirt before answering.  The safety latch let the
door open a few inches for her to peek outside.  When she
recognized Eli, she relaxed and released the lock.

“Are you available?” he asked.

“Yes.” Rebecca tried to conceal her enthusiasm and opened the
door wider to allow him entry.  “No duties to attend to?” she
joked.

“Freed myself up.” Eli returned the humor while mimicking
handcuffs falling off his wrists.

“Freed from your business plans or your parents?” Rebecca raised
an inquisitive brow.

“From parental expectations. Besides it’s almost evening and my
father doesn’t like me to finish up work on Shabbos.” Eli walked
through the opened door into her apartment.  He set his
briefcase by the door and headed to her living area.  Glancing
around, his eyes broadened at the television set.

“My home.” Rebecca closed the door behind her.  “It’s
miniscule, but its mine.”

“You’ve made the space very accessible.  It’s quaint.”

“Thank you.” Rebecca went to the kitchen.  “Would you like
some milk, tea or coffee?”

“Tea, please.”

Rebecca filled her teapot and set it on the stove, separated
from the living area by the sofa.

“How long have you lived here?” Eli sat on the sofa.

“For three years, since college.  I left when I was
nineteen.  My parents live outside the city and I didn’t want
to travel. It makes it easier for me this way.”

 “My mama would never allow something like this for my
sisters, away from home to attend college.”

“I’m an independent lady.  I’ve always been.  I fought
my mutti on it, but my father was on my side.” Rebecca snuggled
between the sofa cushion and a pillow sitting next to Eli.

“Papa’s girl?” Eli questioned.

“My mutti is now used to the idea of me being away, though it
was difficult for her my first year.  But I had my mind made
up and I wasn’t going to change it.”

“You have a television.” He gestured toward the wooden box,
eager to ask about it.  “I’ve only seen one other in another
home.” Eli stood a brief moment to brush his hands over the soft
wood frame and then sat down next to Rebecca.

“My father.” Rebecca grinned and lowered her chin.

“How are your parents doing since the Depression?”

“My father saves a lot and has been able to take care of tuition
for me, but it has hit them too, even with their successful
business.  We can’t buy the luxuries we once did.” Rebecca’s
voice stressed the last sentence, “My mutti is still not used to
that.” She turned towards Eli with her lean legs moving closer.

“Why do you work then?” Eli laughed in his question.

“I told my parents I wasn’t going to take their money for living
expenses, only for tuition.  My father didn’t want me
working.  But I wanted to make my own way, so I found a job.”
She spoke quickly, then emphasized her question, “What about
you?”

“I went in ‘24.  My parents do well and we haven’t had to
worry about money.  As long as I followed my papa’s plans for
my life, he paid my way.  So even after the Depression hit in
’29, my last two years of law school were taken care of for
me.  I’ve been working for the last two years at my papa’s
firm.”

“And you’re a successful lawyer now?” Rebecca’s right brow
quirked upward.

“I handle business law at the firm.”

Rebecca met Eli’s eyes with her sensual gaze and Eli’s long
lashes flitted as he watched her in return.  He reached out
and caressed her hand, his thumb pressing into her palm while his
fingers memorized the softness of her skin.  She stayed
motionless, mesmerized, until the kettle on the stove whistled –
toooot.  Leaping from the sofa, she took the kettle off the
burner, feeling Eli’s eyes on her.  She poured Eli a cup of
tea and then one for herself, placing them on wooden coasters on
her coffee table.  Eli sipped a few times and then stood in
anxious propriety.  “I should get to my room.”

“I’ll see you again?” Her eyes invited him back.

“Most certainly.” Eli stepped out the door and Rebecca followed
him, waving goodbye until he scurried upstairs and out of
sight.  In his room, Eli took out his file from his briefcase
and laid it on his teak table.  Big and rectangular, it filled
the middle of the living room.  Books and papers rested on top
of its maroon placemats.  He went to his fridge, took out his
cup of juice and swallowed in one gulp.  His phone rang and he
raced over to pick it up.

“Eli?”

“Yes, Mama, it’s me.  Who else would it be?”

“Are you going to make it to the feast this year? You know it’s
just two days away.  I don’t like it when you’re not
there.  It’s not the same.”

“Yes, Mama, I’ll be there.”

“It’s going to be real nice with lots of food and all your
relatives.”

“Should I bring anything?”

“Don’t worry about it, son.”

“Your place again?”

“Yes, Eli, of course.”

“What time?”

“Try to be here by six.  I love you.”

“Love you too, Mama.” He hung up and walked to the shower.

Rebecca cleaned up the cups before snuggling into bed and
wrapping up in expensive quilt bought by her mother.  Hours
later, the alarm sounded when the sun barely rose in the sky. 
Rebecca lifted herself in slow motion out of the bed and rushed her
bath before dressing in two beige shirts layered over each other
and a long white skirt.  She wrapped her neck with a black
scarf and then headed out the door to hail a cab.

The streets saturated with busy workmen, the homeless, and
fathers struggling for their family’s survival.  Rebecca
sympathized with the struggle, never flaunting her wealth and never
fully understanding the sacrifices each man and woman made. 
Though her upbringing was rigid in polite mannerisms and social
expectations, she remained as free as the flowers she picked
blowing in careless winds.  She carried a crisp white lace
apron inside her school bag for the job she procured and would
attend after nursing classes at University.

Eli tightened his button down blue shirt and fastened his dark
blue tie around his neck before heading to his office.  Last
night’s rain still dampened his dark blue car.  He wiped his
window off with a towel and opened his door, laying the damp towel
in his glove compartment.  The streets teemed with vehicles
and people rushing to get to work in the very early morning. 
Anyone who had a job was happy for it and employers took no excuses
for tardiness.

Everyone felt the tensions of Germany.  Families fell
apart; children went to bed hungry and more layoffs were on the
way.  The future of the country was uncertain, except for the
promises made by eager politicians.  Eli pulled up to his
building a few streets away from his apartment.  It felt like
a second home to him, filled with family and friends.  He
walked in with a big grin and a beige brief case swinging in his
hands.

“Eli! Just the man I wanted to see.” A tall man with a short
brown beard ambled up to him and handed him a few papers.  “We
need these checked this morning.”

“I’ll get on it.” Eli walked through the hallway, passing a few
doors until reaching the one with his name etched into a metal
tag.  He went inside his office and sat down in his cushioned
chair, ready to begin the workday.

Rebecca’s cab drove her to University and she hopped out while
handing the cab driver the fee.  She scrambled to her first
class and then attended her next two until her academic day
finished and she took another cab to the local diner.  She
rushed inside for the afternoon shift, pulling her hair into a bun
and fixing it in place with bobby pins.  She walked to the
counter, smiled courteously at the cook with his head bobbing
behind the pots, and opened the cash register.  Meticulously
handling the cash, she counted it twice for accuracy.  The
diner’s owner walked in through the front doors, his pinstriped
shirt dangling over his black pants and loose belt.

“Good to see you, Rebecca.  How is everything today?”

“Good, sir.” She lowered her head and tended to her afternoon
duties behind the cash register.  The owner with a rounded
stomach walked with a limp, caused by an accident some years
ago.  He passed the counter on his way into his small office
where he disappeared behind the shut door.