فصل 37

emilia

I liked the Lithuanian girl, but the towering woman called Eva spoke bad Polish and always seemed impatient. I had never seen such a tall lady.

“That.” Eva pointed to my belly. “From Nemmersdorf?”

“No. From the farm last spring,” I told her.

“The farm?”

I nodded. Should I tell her? Should I explain that my father had sent me from Poland to work on a farm in East Prussia? Should I mention that the farm was owned by Father’s friends, the Kleists? Father had said it would be safer for me there. The Kleists had a son named August. Heat brushed my cheeks as I thought of him.

“Emilia,” Mr. Kleist had said, pointing to a tanned boy dragging a sledge of wood. “That is our oldest, August.”

I smiled, remembering his gorgeous face. I put my hands on my belly. “I am on my way to meet August,” I told her. “It is the plan.” Eva nodded and walked away.

I lay back and thought of August, our wedding, and how we’d make a big nest for the storks above our cottage, just like the nest I had seen on top of the barn. The images were so peaceful, so perfect, that I soon fell asleep.