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The American Lady(149)

By:Petra Durst-Benning


She couldn’t just sit here! She had to find a pharmacy and buy some powdered milk for Sylvie. And she had to find a room for the night.

While she fed Sylvie she went over an inventory in her head of what she was carrying in her luggage. The travel bag was full of the presents she had brought from Lauscha—mostly baby things. She would be able to do without most of those, especially the clothes that were too big at the moment, but she would need all the diapers.

When Sylvie was full and back in her bassinet, Wanda got to work. She didn’t care that the passersby stared as she sorted methodically through her luggage, discarding everything that she did not need on the journey. Once she was finished, her traveling bag was almost bursting but she could leave the suitcase behind. Perhaps somebody would come by who needed it more than she did. She set out, her load lightened and her feet a little rested.



When she found a pharmacy after only five minutes, she could have almost cried with relief. Her voice shook as she asked, half in German, half in Italian, for something her baby could eat.

“I will have to go into the stockroom. If the young lady would be good enough to wait . . .” the pharmacist answered in a melodious Austrian accent. Then he vanished through a door.

He came back with three cans, various glass flasks marked with white lines, and some bottles with rubber nipples. He arranged everything carefully on the counter and explained to Wanda how to prepare the milk.

A weight fell from Wanda’s heart. She had been worried that she wouldn’t be able to buy powdered milk in a little town like Bozen. Ever since she boarded the train in Genoa that morning, she had been scolding herself about not having bought milk for the journey. When the pharmacist asked if there was anything else he could do for her, Wanda felt another surge of panic. What else did a baby need? He was the first person she had met on her journey who had been friendly and polite, but she could hardly ask him for childcare advice. So she bought a little box of peppermints and thanked him for his help, then left.

The shop bell was still tinkling behind her as she opened the box and shoved one of the peppermints greedily into her mouth. Right away the cool taste of mint quenched the worst of her thirst.

A moment later, she had the idea.

It was such a simple idea—and it was wonderful.

It was exactly what her mother would do instead of tramping around the streets like a beggar. Wanda picked up her pace. Why hadn’t she thought of it sooner?



Wanda and Sylvie reached the entrance of the Grand Park Hotel just as the first raindrops started to fall. At reception she paid the wickedly high price for a room, and as she took the key she silently thanked her parents for their generosity, which allowed her to spend the night at such a fancy place. All manner of well-heeled and worldly guests came and went here, and the receptionist was far too discreet to ask how a woman happened to be traveling alone with a baby. It was house policy to welcome any guest who was ready and willing to pay the outrageous cost for the night.

A bellhop took Wanda’s bag and showed her to the room. Once he had unlocked the door, she asked him to bring her a pitcher of lemonade. He asked whether she would like him to bring something to eat as well or whether she would prefer to dine in the hotel’s restaurant, the Belle Époque. As soon as he asked, Wanda’s belly began to rumble in a most unladylike manner. She ordered the dish of the day and waved away his description of what the chef had prepared.

No sooner had the young man shut the door behind him than Wanda took Sylvie out of the bassinet. The baby began to wave her arms and legs immediately. Wanda spoke gently to the little one as she went into the bathroom, where she was pleased to find hot and cold running water. She ran lukewarm water into the elegant washbasin and added a pinch of the pink bath salts as well. If they were good enough for high-society ladies, they were good enough for her little princess!

“I think you already know just what you like, don’t you!” Wanda said as she washed the baby rather clumsily. “We’ll have to heat the stove every day in winter so that our little princess can have a bath! My word, that’ll take a lot of firewood! Richard will have to sell a few more glasses.”

Richard . . . the thought of him was like an arrow to her heart. She was supposed to meet him at the Hotel Riviera today. She could already see him in her mind’s eye, pacing impatiently up and down and looking at a clock on the wall every few minutes.

A knock roused her from her thoughts. She wrapped Sylvie up in a thick towel and opened the door.

“Madame, your supper! Veal schnitzel in a lemon sauce, with butter noodles and . . .”

As soon as Wanda saw the bellhop, she knew just what she had to do. She hastily pulled him into the room complete with the tray. Then she stood in front of the door, blocking his way.