The Glassblower(67)

Johanna couldn’t believe what she had just heard. She didn’t want to believe it.

“But how could that happen? You’re not even married yet!”

Ruth laughed bitterly. “Do you think that not being married can protect a woman from pregnancy?” It was just like her high-minded sister to make such a remark.

Johanna shook her head brusquely.

“Rubbish. But . . .” She didn’t even know herself what she had meant by that. “What does Thomas say about it?”

Ruth sat up straight. “He’s pleased as Punch,” she said. Seeing the skepticism in Johanna’s face, she added, “No, he really is! If I hadn’t sworn him to silence, he’d be going round telling the world right now that he’s going to be a father.”

Ruth decided to keep to herself just how Thomas had taken the news of impending fatherhood. “Jackpot, first shot!” he had said, strutting like a cockerel. Instead she said, “Sebastian and Eva have been trying to have children for years now without any luck, so you can see why he’s so pleased. There’s going to be a little Heimer at last! And Thomas has even been to see the pastor. He decided that we should get married at the end of June. Which suits me. The sooner the better. He can hardly wait to tell his father the good news.”

“Old Heimer will have some idea what’s coming when you suddenly rush to get married so soon after the engagement. The old fellow can put two and two together.”

 “I don’t know about that.” Ruth shrugged. She didn’t care what the old man thought. “Anyway, I don’t want to stand in church with my bump showing. Nobody needs to know that we’ve already . . .”

Johanna got up and went to the calendar that hung next to the kitchen dresser. She leafed through it quickly and then said with relief, “What luck—Strobel will be back by then. Otherwise I would have missed your wedding.”

“You’d have me to answer to if you did,” Ruth said, then she clapped her hands. “So now we’re going shopping. I’m going to buy myself a dress, and Thomas says he doesn’t care how much it costs.”

Johanna looked at her askance. “Well, he really does seem pleased.”



If Johanna had ever thought that she was a fussy shopper, she soon learned better; it took several hours for her sister to select a dress in wine-red taffeta, and during that time not a single item in the shop escaped her scrutiny. Red was the usual color for a bride to wear in Germany, but she only came back to the dress after looking at almost everything else as well.

It wasn’t difficult to persuade Ruth to go out to one of the town’s many restaurants after that. Tired but happy, they sat at a table by the window and enjoyed the warm sunshine that filtered through the lace curtains. Ordering coffee and the day’s special—a kohlrabi bake with sausage and potato—they felt like women of the world. Three other tables were occupied by women, two of whom were messengers Johanna regularly sent to the villages. They waved at her from their table. While Johanna was relieved to realize it was not unusual for women to eat out at a restaurant, Ruth simply assumed that her sister did this every day.

When their food came, they ate hungrily. Because it was a special day, they also ordered a slice of the chocolate cake, which had tempted them from its stand. But once the cake was in front of them, neither of them touched it for a while. It was Ruth who spoke aloud what they both were thinking.

“Isn’t it odd? Just six months ago, we didn’t know where our next meal was coming from. Simple village girls, we were. And now we’re sitting in a restaurant in Sonneberg planning my wedding.”

“Things certainly do change—sometimes even for the better,” Johanna said, digging her fork into the cake happily. “So? What’s it like, sleeping with a man?” she asked.

Ruth looked at her incredulously. Had Johanna really asked such a question?

“If you’d rather not talk about it . . .”

Did she want to talk about it? Ruth was torn. She wanted very much to tell someone what it had been like. But was Johanna the right person to talk to?

Her hesitation made Johanna waver too. “I only ask because of the pregnancy . . . Couldn’t you have put Thomas off a little?”

“Putting a man off isn’t so easy. When you’re in love, the moment will eventually come when it really gets difficult. But you wouldn’t understand such things,” Ruth replied rather condescendingly.

“No, you’re right, I really can’t imagine that sort of thing,” Johanna agreed. She threw up her hands in an almost comical gesture. “Mind you, I can fill out order forms and keep the books.”