The Ring (36 page)

Not at all. In fact, he isn't even worried about it anymore. He said that before it was from the rigors of my trip to get here. But now it's the price I'm paying for what I did after I arrived.

What does he mean by that? And then suddenly she understood the cryptic message. Her eyes widened and she looked at Ariana with a long, slow smile. You mean you're pregnant?

Yes, I am.

Oh, Ariana! She looked at her happily and quickly crossed the room to give her a hug. But then she looked at the small young woman with fresh worry. Does he think it will be all right for you? It's not too soon after you were so sick ' you're so tiny you're not a big horse of a woman like me. But she clung to Ariana's hand tightly, so thrilled with the news. For an instant it reminded her of the joy she had felt when she learned that she was expecting their first child.

The only thing he wants me to do is start seeing a specialist a little later, when we get closer to the birth.

That sounds reasonable, and when will that be, by the way?

Early April. Inwardly, Ariana cringed at the lie, praying that Ruth would never know the truth about the baby, and silently promising herself and Ruth that one day there would truly be a Liebman child. She owed it to Paul to have his baby, and as soon as she was able, she was going to have another, and still more if that was what he wanted. She owed him everything for protecting Manfred's child.

As the months wore on, Paul matured, growing more and more paternal, helping Ariana prepare the nursery and smiling at her as she spent night after night knitting clothes. Ruth had also brought over boxes and boxes of things from her own babies, and there seemed to be little tiny hats and socks and dresses and sweaters everywhere Paul looked.

Well, from the look of this place, Mrs. Liebman, I'd say we were having a baby. It was two weeks before Christmas. Paul thought she was only five and a half months pregnant, but in truth the baby's birth was only six weeks away. But no one seemed to find her enlarged proportions outrageous. They assumed her impressive bulge was simply due to the fact that it all showed more on a woman of Ariana's size. And by now Paul had grown to like the belly he called it funny names and said that he had to rub it twice for good luck before he left for work every day.

Don't do that! She squealed when he tickled her. you'll make it kick me again.

It must be a boy. He said it with great seriousness one night while listening to her stomach. I think it's trying to play football.

Ariana groaned and rolled her eyes as she laughed at her husband. It certainly is playing football in there ' with my kidneys, I think.

The next morning, after Paul had left for the office, something strange happened, and for hours on end Ariana felt overwhelmed by nostalgia for her old life. She sat for hours in a chair thinking of Manfred, got out her jewel box, and tried on his rings. She sat there thinking of their plans and their promises and then found herself wondering what he would have thought of this child. She even wondered what he would have wanted to name him. Paul had his heart set on Simon, after the brother who had died. And it was something she felt she should do for him.

As she went through her mementos that morning, she came to the envelope with the photographs of her and Manfred, hidden in a book in a locked drawer at the bottom of her desk. She pulled them out and spread them out in her lap then, staring at the face she had loved, remembering every inch of the uniform, hearing his words at their first Christmas. It was difficult to believe that the photographs of the Christmas Eve balls had been taken only a year before. With two little rivers of tears dripping from her cheeks onto the huge belly, she held the photographs in her hands and never heard her husband come in. A moment later he stood behind her, staring down at the photographs, first in confusion, and then in horror, as the insignia on the uniform finally became clear.

My God, who is that? He stared down in fury and amazement, seeing Ariana's smiling face at the man's side. Ariana jumped in terror as she heard him. She had no idea that he was standing there at all.

What are you doing here? The tears had stopped and she still held the photographs in her hand as she stood up.

I came home to check on my wife and see if she wanted to join me for lunch somewhere, but I see that I seem to have interrupted a rather intriguing private time. Tell me, Ariana, do you do this every day, or only on major holidays? And then after a frozen moment, Would you mind telling me who that was?

It was ' he was a German officer. She looked at Paul almost in desperation. This was not the way that she had wanted him to find out.

I could tell that much from the Nazi armband. Anything else you'd like to tell me? Like how many Jews he killed? Or which camp he ran?

He didn't kill any Jews, and he didn't run any camps. In fact, he saved my life. And he kept me from being raped by a lieutenant and made a whore by a general. If it hadn't been for him she began to sob uncontrollably as she held the picture of the man who'd been dead for seven months now "if it hadn't been for him ' I would very probably be dead now.

For an instant Paul regretted what he had said to her, but then as he looked at the photograph fluttering in her hand, he felt anger overcome him again. Then, what the hell are you doing laughing and smiling in these pictures if your life was so much at stake? He reached for the pictures and then realized with utter fury that she was dancing with the Nazi officer at a ball. Ariana, who is this man? And then suddenly he understood how she had survived the camps after all. His mother had been right. And he had no right to berate her for what she'd done. The girl had no choice. Tenderly, feeling shaken, he reached out to Ariana, and pulled her as close as he could with her huge belly into his arms. I'm sorry ' oh, darling, I'm sorry. I think for a moment I forgot what happened. I just saw that face and that uniform and it all looked so German, I think for a minute I lost my mind.

But I'm German, too, Paul, She was still crying, sobbing softly in his arms.

Yes, but you're not like them, and if what you had to do was to be this man's mistress to survive the camps, Ariana, then I don't give a damn what happened. But as he said it, he felt her freeze in his arms. And quietly she backed away from him and sat down.

That's what you think, isn't it, Paul? She eyed him for an endless moment and he said nothing, and then softly she went on. You think I was this man's whore to save my own skin. Well, that's not true and I want you to know the truth. After the death of my father and Gerhard, he Manfred took me to his house and he expected nothing from me, nothing. He didn't rape me, he didn't touch me, he didn't hurt me. He only gave me his protection and became my only friend.

It's a touching story, but that's a Nazi uniform, isn't it, Ariana? His voice was like ice as it touched her, but she sat there feeling unafraid knowing she was doing the right thing.

Yes, Paul, it is. But there were some decent men wearing Nazi uniforms, and he was one. It's not all just good guys and bad guys. Life isn't always as simple as that.

My, my, darling. Thank you for the lesson. But frankly I find it a little hard to stomach when I come home and find my wife crying over pictures of some goddamn Nazi, and then I discover that he was her friend.' The Nazis weren't anyone's friends, Ariana. Don't you understand that? How can you say what you're saying? You're a Jew! He was raging at her as she sat there, but now she stood to face him and shook her head.

No, Paul, I am not a Jew. I am a German. He was shocked into silence, and she went on, afraid that if she stopped now, words would fail her.

My father was a good German, and a banker; he was the head of the most important bank in Berlin. But when they drafted my brother after his sixteenth birthday, my father didn't want Gerhard to go. She tried smiling at him now. What a relief it was to tell him the story, to tell him the truth, no matter what it cost in the end.

My father's sympathies were never with the Nazis, and when they tried to draft Gerhard, he knew that we had to escape. He devised a plan to get my brother into Switzerland, and then he would come back for me the day after that Only something must have happened, and he never did return. Our servants turned me in people I had trusted all my life her voice rose "and the Nazis came and took me away. They kept me in a cell for a month, Paul, holding me for ransom,' in case my father came back, but he didn't. For a month I lived in a filthy, stinking little cell, half starving and half crazy, in a room half the size of one of the closets your mother's maids. And then they let me go because I was useless. They took over my father's house, kept all our things, and threw me out in the street. But the general who took over my father's home in Grunewald apparently also wanted me, too. Manfred, this man she pointed at the pictures with trembling hands as tears rolled down her face "saved me from him, and from everyone. He kept me safe until the war ended. Her voice broke then. Until the fall of Berlin, when he was killed. She looked up at Paul then but his face looked as hard as rock.

And were you lovers, you and this stinking Nazi?

Don't you understand? He saved me! Don't you care about that? She eyed him for a long moment, her own anger building.

I care that you were the mistress of a Nazi.

Then you're a fool. I survived, dammit. I survived!

And you cared about him? His voice was frigid and suddenly, as much as she had come to love Paul, she hated him now. She wanted to hurt him as he was hurting her.

I cared very much. He was my husband, and he would be now if he weren't dead.

For an instant they stood there eyeing each other, suddenly aware of all that had been said, and when Paul spoke again, his voice was shaking. He looked and pointed at her stomach and then raised his eyes to her face.

Whose baby is that?

She wanted to lie to him, for the child's sake, but she could no longer do it. My husband's, she answered. Her voice was strong and proud, as though she were bringing Manfred back to life.

I am your husband, Ariana.

Manfred's. She answered softly, suddenly aware of what she had done to Paul. As the full impact hit her, she almost reeled.

Thank you, he whispered, and then, turning on his heel, he slammed the door.

The next morning Ariana received a packet o|f papers from Paul's attorney. She was being notified that Mr. Paul Liebman had the intention of suing her for divorce. She was being formally notified that four weeks after the birth of the baby, she would have to vacate the premises, but that in the meantime she could stay there. She would also continue to be supported for that brief period, and after she left, once the baby was born, the sum of five thousand dollars would be given to her by check. No support was going to be forthcoming for the baby, since it apparently was not Mr. Liebman's child, nor for her, given the circumstances of their brief and apparently fraudulent marriage. A letter in the same packet from her father-in-law confirmed the financial arrangements, and a note from her mother-in-law berated her for having betrayed them all. How dared she have pretended to be a Jew. It was, as Ariana had always suspected it would be, the ultimate betrayal, not to mention the fact that she was pregnant with some Nazi's child. The war had hit hard. Some Nazi Ariana flinched at the word when she read it Further, she forbade Ariana to set foot near the house on Fifth Avenue, and forbade her also ever to come near any of them again. Should she discover that Ariana had attempted to see Deborah or Julia, Ruth would feel no qualms about calling the police.

As Ariana sat in the apartment, reading what they had sent her, she desperately wanted to reach Paul, But he had sought refuge with his parents, and under no circumstances would he take her calls. Instead, he spoke to her through his attorney, the arrangements were begun, the divorce suit was filed, the Liebmans shut her out, and on December twenty-fourth, shortly after midnight, one month early, Ariana went into labor all alone.

Her bravado faded then, as, momentarily, did her courage. She was paralyzed with fear of the unknown, and of her aloneness but she was able to reach the doctor and got to the hospital in a cab.

Twelve hours later Ariana was still in the throes of her labor, and she was almost incoherent with the pain. Frightened, frantic, still shocked by what had happened with Paul and the Liebmans, she was in no condition to deal with what was happening, and time and again she screamed for Manfred, until at last they gave her something for the pain. At ten o'clock on Christmas night the baby was finally delivered, by Cesarean section, but despite the difficulties of the labor neither mother nor baby had come to any harm. They showed him to Ariana briefly, a tiny bundle of wrinkled flesh with the smallest hands and feet that she had ever seen.

He didn't look like her or like Manfred, or like Gerhard or her father. He didn't look like anyone at all.

What will you call him? The nurse asked her softly as she held Ariana's hand.

I don't know. She was so tired, and he was so little she wondered if it was all right that he was so small. But through the pain and the anesthetic, she still felt a warm glow of joy.

It's Christmas, you could call him Noel.

Noel? Ariana thought for a minute, smiling in her drug-filled half-sleep. Noel? That's pretty. And then, turning her face toward where she imagined the baby, she smiled a peaceful smile. Noel von Tripp, she said to herself and fell asleep.

Exactly four weeks after the birth of the baby, Ariana stood in the front hall with the last of their bags. As per the arrangement, she was vacating the apartment, and she already had the baby all bundled up in the cab. They were going to a hotel a nurse at the hospital had recommended. It was cozy and inexpensive, and the proprietress would serve meals. So soon after the Cesarean, Ariana wasn't really supposed to be up. One more time she had attempted to reach Paul at his office, and then once more she had allowed herself to try him at home. But it was useless. He wouldn't speak to her. It was over. He had sent her the five thousand dollars. All he wanted now was her keys.