The Day the Flowers Died by Ami Blackwelder Page A

her
hand.
    Ralph filled the delay in waiting for the servants to serve the
main entrée with opportune inquiry.
    “So, Eli, Rebecca tells us you are a lawyer.  That
profession must keep you very busy.”
    “It does.” Eli smiled lightheartedly.
    “She tells me you graduated from Ludwig Maximilians
University.”
    “Yes, two years ago, and I’ve been working ever since.” Eli
answered with an ease learned from working cases in the court
room.
    “You found work after graduation; that is serendipitous,” Ralph
commented, while his wife’s gaze flickered between the two men.
    “Ralph owns factories throughout Germany,” Deseire remarked with
a curt smile.  The servants prepared each of their plates with
a slice of ham and duck and a few spoonfuls of corn and peas and
lastly a dip of sauerkraut.
    “Looks delicious,” Eli remarked and dug his fork into the
corn.
    “It really does.  I can’t wait to taste Rueben’s duck,”
Rebecca agreed.
    When Rebecca picked the duck up with her silver fork, the red
brown sauce dripped and the green herbs aromatically filled the
space between the plate and her nose and she closed her eyes,
whiffing in the seasoned flavor.  Ralph dug his fork into the
duck and then the ham, savoring both meats at the same time. 
Only his love of food surpassed his love of business.
    “Where did the two of you meet?” Deseire intruded on the moment
of succulence.  Eli’s wide eyes widened further and his lips
stretched with pleasure in memory.
    “I live above Rebecca and noticed her in the building.”
    Rebecca cut in.  “He kept receiving some of my mail by
mistake and kindly brought the letters to me.”
    “Did any of our letters make their way somewhere else?” Deseire
snipped.
    “I don’t think so, Mutti. I’m sure I received every one of your
verbose letters.” And out it popped, the civility Rebecca tried so
desperately to hold onto throughout the night.
    “Verbose?” Deseire cleared her throat and the wrinkles around
her eyes intensified as if preparing for war. “Darling, we never
hear from you and some-one in the family has to keep
communication.  We don’t know if you’re alright or what kind
of strange people may be involved in your life.”
    Eli’s shoulders jolted back into his chair, creating a gap
between him and the dining table, hoping to become invisible and
avoid the bickering about to take place.
    “Mother,” Rebecca used the elongated form instead of mutti
whenever she was frazzled by her.  “I only mean that your
letters are very long and I am busy between work and
University.”
    “Rebecca’s right.  She is a very busy young college woman
these days and we can’t expect her to contact us with every free
moment.” Ralph interrupted the growing feud before the embers had
time to burn and explode.
    “But a phone call a night is not asking too much, Rebecca. 
How else are we to know you’re safe? If you don’t have time to read
my letters and respond, then at least phone us.”
    “I do, Mutti.  I called you just…” Rebecca replayed the
past couple months in her mind and couldn’t recall a night when she
had phoned her mother recently.
    Deseire took advantage of her daughter’s delayed response. 
“You see, you cannot even remember a time, because it was so long
ago.  All I’m asking for is a little more communication so
that I know my only child is still alive.”
    With her mother’s last words, Rebecca crumbled in her seat,
resenting the correction, especially in front of Eli.
    “Alright, Mutti, I will try to make more time to talk with you
by phone, but I can’t promise you anything with writing.  I
just don’t have the time.”
    “That’s all I ask,” Deseire concluded.
    As the discord between Rebecca and her mother settled, Eli found
it comfortable to lean towards the dining table and eat
again.  Ralph took a spoonful of peas to his mouth and soon
the plates around the table sat empty.
    “Dinner was absolutely