My Mother's Secret Read Online Free Page B

says, “Wouldn’t it be a great idea to let our neighbors think that we have friends in high places?”
    I am educated, but my mother is smarter.
    So I invite Casmir and his friend over for a home-cooked German dinner.
    The neighbors look out their windows and doors as the black, polished car carrying the commander and two guards arrive at our house.
    There will be lots of gossip tonight.
    Our neighbors think that my mother is a
Volksdeutsche
, which is an ethnic German, and so she is regarded as someone of higher status. She isn’t but acts as if she is.
    We buy more food than we need, but who would know that some of that food is intended to feed the families we are hiding? We have sausages, sauerkraut, potatoes, cake, and beer. Casmir has slipped me extra money to make it a special meal.
    Incredibly, everyone has a wonderful time, and I temporarily forget that we are putting our lives in harm’s way.
    Could these possibly be the same soldiers who were shooting the people in the ghetto? It seems unreal.
    After that night and even with Casmir gone, we make dinner with the commander a regular event. My mother is a very good cook, and in the warmth of our small home, the war is far away for everyone who is tired of it.
    We don’t have many friends because it’s too dangerous.
    Seen to be friends with the Nazis, people with whom we would want to be friends don’t want to be friends with us. And people who want to be our friends, we don’t want.

Chapter 16
    C asmir has been away for two weeks and still no word.
    I am worried about him and ask my mother as soon as I come home from work every day if there is any news.
    She says, “Don’t worry, Helena. Casmir is smart. Nothing will happen to him. It just takes longer for mail to be delivered with the war.”
    Then one day, I arrive home to find a big package on the kitchen table.
    â€œFor you, Helena,” my mother says with a smile.
    It is from Casmir.
    I cut the strings and pull the brown paper apart with great excitement.
    There is a beautiful, warm coat for me and hidden inside the pockets are chocolates, nylons, soap, and a letter.
    â€œLook, Mama,” I say. “Isn’t he wonderful?”
    She nods as I fly past her with the letter held to my chest.
    I want to read it in the privacy of the bedroom.
    Dear Helena,
    Are you well?
    I didn’t think I could miss anyone so much.
    Not a moment goes by when my mind doesn’t wander back to you.
    I’ll be getting dressed or even talking to someone, and there you are.
    The other day, I had a piece of apple strudel and it reminded me of the story you told me about your brother.
    Everything reminds me of you.
    I’ve never felt this way before.
    My father’s health is poor, but he is not dying as he led me to believe.
    I think he just wanted to make sure I would come.
    I am very busy, as he has transferred his factories in Germany over to me, and I am running all three of them. He says his two daughters have never shown an interest in the business, so he is leaving them with apartment buildings, which will provide rental income.
    You should have heard how furious his wife was when she found out. He says to me, “You must stay or she will find a way to get the factories when I die. She’s all about the money, even though she will have the hotels and the house.”
    My father can’t complain enough about his wife. He has a picture of my mother beside his bed, and I’m sure it’s not appreciated by his wife.
    Although I have no feelings for this woman, I do know that she has no chance competing with the photo of my mother, captured in the prime of her beauty and glowing with love for the father of her child.
    We’re lucky, Helena, because we love each other for who we are. Do you know how rare that is? To find someone you love above all else and who in turn loves you the same way? What is that—one in a million?
    I will come to visit