“Magdalena,” he said after embracing her, “fetch champagne from the cellar, please. We will all celebrate together.”
It was only as the doctor left that Magda felt the familiar gnawing fear. Since the episode with the yellow stars, dark shadows had taken up residence in every corner of the villa. They had grown as permanent as her birthmark. They were the type of fears that were only expressed behind closed doors and well out of Eliška’s earshot. When Magda looked at Renata, she could see a glint of foreboding in her friend’s eyes as well.
“Well,” Renata said. They walked into the drawing room. “I suppose I should go tell Aleš. He’s waiting to hear.”
“He’s waiting, all right,” Magda teased shyly. “He’s waiting to—” She bit back her joke. Aleš was a Gentile. Marrying Renata was illegal, much less having children with her.
“I had no idea you had such a raucous fantasy.” Renata’s sad grin did not match the playful smack of the duster against Magda’s arm or the glassy sharpness in her eye. A feather floated up into the light. Still, she left Magda and hurried outside.
Magda shut the French doors behind her. On the sloping lawn, primroses and daisies had popped out. Renata reached Aleš at the stand of cedars, and the groundskeeper planted a kiss on Renata’s hand. Magda sighed.
Later, Magda met Eva coming down the stairs. She gave Magda permission to see Frau Tauber. At the bedroom suite, Magda knocked softly before peeking in.
Ruth Tauber was stretched out on her side in the light-blue lounging suit Magda had lain out the night before. Strands of red hair were still plastered to her brow, but she looked otherwise unruffled. Upon Magda’s entrance, she sat up, fluffed the pillows a little, and waved her in. A newborn, swaddled in a soft dove-gray blanket, was sleeping next to her.
Magda approached the bed. “Can I do anything for you, paní doktorová?” She looked down at the baby. He was beautiful!
Frau Tauber scooped the newborn to herself, gave him a tender kiss, and extended him to Magda. “Meet Samuel. Go on—take him.”
“I couldn’t.”
“I insist.” Frau Tauber smiled. “Magdalena, do you not yet understand that I hold the highest esteem for you? For all of you? You’re like family to Johan and me. Come,” she beckoned, “sit down and take him.”
Magda perched on the edge of the mattress and took the warm bundle. Since they had taken her in, the family had shown her nothing but warmth and respect, but ever since the fire, Frau Tauber had become another mother for Magda; indeed the whole family was now her family.
“Eliška hasn’t yet seen him.” Magda held the baby close. “She should meet her brother before me.”
“Nonsense,” Frau Tauber said. “Where is she?”
“Your husband has taken her with him to put together a party.”
Frau Tauber laughed, looking wistful. “It is big news. A son.”
The baby, eyes still shut tight, yawned crookedly. Magda touched the dark fuzz on his head and inhaled his new baby smell and, for a brief moment, she felt unsteady. A swell of love and yearning lifted beneath her and rose to meet the apprehension that had dug its claws in in the past months.
Frau Tauber bent toward the baby. “Look at his right hand, Magda. Do you see? He has a birthmark right on his little wrist bone.”
Magda checked Samuel’s hand and smiled at the light-brown blemish. “It’s pretty tiny,” she said. “Nothing that will cause too many unpleasantries.”
Frau Tauber lay back against the pillows. “What about you, Magda? You’re a natural mother.”
“The only thing I wish for is that this war ends and I remain intact. That’s all. I want to go home. I want to return to my family, to the farm, to my brothers, and have everything be like it was.”
Frau Tauber made a noise and picked at something on the coverlet. When she looked at Magda again, Magda saw that she was holding something back, something like bad news, and then just like that it disappeared, and her eyes were bright again. “How are things with Walter? Have you heard anything from him?”
Heat clambered up Magda’s neck. “He’s finished with the training. He’s been posted nearby as a radio operator, but Walter, he’s…” She shrugged. Changed. It was simply an observation, too early to come to any real conclusion. His letters came frequently enough, but they were getting shorter and shorter. She never knew what to write to him, but her lack of responses did not stop his missives. She turned the problem onto herself instead. “Walter’s some years younger than I am. What should he want with me?”
“I have seen Walter’s eyes on you more than a few times when he was working here. He’s a very handsome fellow.”
Magda automatically put a hand to her cheek. “That’s the trouble, isn’t it? He can be so charming, and I…” He is so much more German now. And I, I am still very much Czech. “Paní doktorová, you catch Walter staring at my blemished face, nothing else.”
“He did not loiter on the grounds,” Frau Tauber chided, “hoping to see your birthmark.” She reached for Magda’s lower arm to move the hand away from her face. “You are not the hideous creature you believe you are. You are a beautiful young woman. And you deserve love. You deserve happiness.”
Magda placed Samuel back into his mother’s arms and moved to leave.
“I’d like to ask something of you,” Frau Tauber said.
Magda raised her head. Good. A task. She could do this bit gracefully.
“We may not practice the Jewish religion here very much.” She looked embarrassed. “A little like some Christians only go to church at Christmas or Easter, but a baby boy is something different. In eight days we will have Samuel’s
