Free Eve's Daughters by Lynn Austin Page A

departure had begun.
    “I’ll fix breakfast,” I said.
    “No, let me. You’re supposed to stay off your feet.”
    “Please, Fritz. I’m sick and tired of staying in bed.” I stood and began rummaging in the pantry for potatoes and eggs. My distress was made worse by a nagging pain in my back, and the aching, cramping feeling that usually came with my monthly curse.
    We had just finished breakfast when I heard the postman outside, dropping several letters through our slot. Friedrich rose to retrieve them. I watched his face as he sifted through them, then saw his expression change when he came to the last envelope. I knew without being told that his draft notice had arrived. He stared at it for a long time, then laid it on the table.
    “Don’t open it, Louise.” His voice sounded hoarse.
    “Is it really worth risking prison for, Fritz? What will become of the baby and me if you get caught? Why would you take such a chance? I still don’t understand!”
    He opened his mouth as if forming his answer, then clenched his jaw and closed his eyes in despair. When he opened them again he wouldn’t look at me, but he snatched up his hat and left the house without a word, closing the door gently behind him.
    I glared at the envelope for a long time, as if it were Pandora’s box and would unleash disaster upon us if opened. But hadn’t disaster already been unleashed when the draft law changed? Friedrich’s books were gone. He was leaving for America. There was no way I could stuff everything back into the box.
    I left the breakfast dishes where they lay and crawled back into bed, too numb to cry. What if I could go back and change everything? Would I have agreed to marry Friedrich if I had known he would make me move to America? Would I have chosen him before my family, my homeland? No, I decided as the cramping grew worse. No. I would rather have married Klaus Gerber, the town drunk, than move away from everyone I loved.
    As I tossed on the bed in misery, it slowly occurred to me why I felt so sick—the baby was coming. And I had no idea where Fritz had gone or when he would be back. I couldn’t bear the thought of starting my labor all alone, so I decided to go next door for my neighbor, Mrs. Schmidt. She’d given birth to five children and had offered to help when my time came. But first Iwould have to get up and get dressed. It all seemed so impossible with my swollen ankles and aching back.
    I managed to change into a housedress, but then I saw what a mess the kitchen was, with unwashed pans on the stove and our dirty breakfast dishes still on the table. I couldn’t let anyone see my home in such a state. I hobbled to the sink and worked the hand pump but nothing came out. Then suddenly there was water everywhere, running down my legs, soaking my clothing, spreading in a puddle around my ankles. My baby would be born today. Friedrich’s baby. She would grow up in America, never knowing her grandparents, her aunts, her cousins. I sank onto a kitchen chair and wept.
    It took me a long time to clean up the dishes. I was on my knees with a bucket and rags, mopping the floor when Friedrich returned.
    “Louise! What on earth are you doing!” He pulled me to my feet and steered me to the nearest chair. “You’re not even supposed to be out of bed, let alone working and . . . and your dress is soaked! What on earth—?”
    “Please go get Mama and Oma.” I couldn’t stop sobbing.
    “Is it your time? Should I fetch the doctor?”
    “I want Mama. She’ll know when to send for the doctor.”
    Mrs. Schmidt stayed with me while Friedrich rode out to the farm. I don’t remember seeing him much after that. Oma probably shooed him out of the way. Delivering babies was women’s work. Later I learned that Friedrich had spent the entire day praying. His prayers didn’t help.
    My labor was very long and difficult—hours and hours of pain with no relief in sight. Everything that was happening to me was out of my