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The German Wife(112)

Author:Kelly Rimmer

Despite everything, I liked Hans. He was a lot like my Georg—a good kid, albeit one bent out of shape by Nazi influence. Cut adrift from all of that, I saw the kindness of his heart set free again. If Georg didn’t clear his plate after dinner, Hans would remind him. If Laura felt left out, Hans would encourage Georg to include her.

I barely saw the children during the day—they’d disappear out the front door as soon as they were awake and they’d return only when they were hungry or too sunburned to continue adventuring. At night, they tumbled into bed early, resting up to prepare for the next day.

But when the week was over, Lydia arrived to collect Hans. I was expecting her driver to arrive alone, so I was surprised and a little dismayed when she slipped from the back seat of her silver BMW. She’d left her other children behind with the nannies.

“You’ve been spending so much time down here,” she said, as we sat around the kitchen table. “I wanted to see what the place was like.”

I set a cup of chicory “coffee” in front of her, then took the chair opposite her to drink my own. I scanned the kitchen, trying to see it through her eyes. I’d given her only scant details about the lake house, knowing she’d picture something grander if left to her own imagination.

“It’s been a godsend for us to be able to reconnect while Jürgen is busy with work.”

“And he’s coming today?”

“That’s the plan. He was due last weekend, but something held him up.”

“Did he not tell you? That’s the main reason I wanted to come by. I wanted to congratulate you.” She seemed conflicted, her gaze darting around the room as she gnawed on her lip. “I assumed Jürgen would have told you himself.”

“What happened?” I asked her, bewildered.

“He’s humble, that’s all. That’s why he doesn’t tell you these things. Or maybe he wanted to tell you in person…”

“If last week is anything to go by, he might just cancel the trip at the last minute anyway. Don’t keep me in suspense.”

“They are never really sure until they process the results and it seems to take them such a long time. So much math.” When I nodded, impatient for her to continue, she drew in a deep breath and nearly knocked me off my chair in surprise when she blurted, “But Karl says that from what they know so far, it looks like the test launch last week made it all the way to space.”

If this was true, it was remarkable—a world-changing achievement. I was immediately stung that Jürgen hadn’t so much as called to let me know, but hot on the heels of that hurt came concern, and realization.

Jürgen always sheltered me from the worst of his work. That he didn’t call to let me know about the success of his launch likely indicated there was a dark side to it—something he couldn’t talk about over the phone, or maybe something he wasn’t yet ready to talk about at all.

Jürgen arrived later that afternoon and was immediately co-opted by the children.

“Watch us swim, Papa!” they cried, and he laughed and promised he would as soon as he set his briefcase inside. I was on the jetty, where I’d been watching Georg, Laura, and Gisela run along the wooden platform and strike dramatic poses as they launched themselves into the water. Gisela, now five, was not yet a strong swimmer, so the older two were helping her make her way back to the shore after each dive.

Jürgen walked down the jetty to sit behind me, leaving room on the narrow dock for the children to run alongside us. He wrapped his arms around my waist, and I leaned against him. It was golden hour; the perfect red-tinged rays of the sun over the lake left me lazy and dreamy. All the world looked like a postcard, but especially with Jürgen’s strong torso against my back, and his arms around my waist. We watched the children play in silence for a while, sharing only a chuckle here or there as they performed for us. But Lydia’s news this morning hovered at the edges of my consciousness, demanding attention.

“Is it true? Your rocket made it to space?”

“Maybe. Probably.” Jürgen paused. “No one can be sure yet.”

I twisted awkwardly to stare at him in disbelief.

“Isn’t this what you’ve dreamed of your entire life?”

“Not like this.”

He’d been laughing at the children just a moment before, but his gaze grew troubled. I shifted so that I was facing him, intending to give him my full attention.

“Mama! Watch me!” Gisela protested.