August's Wife

Lina stepped over to the small oven in the corner of their back room and opened the door. With a dish towel around her hand, she pulled out a tray of bierocks, a family favorite, for their wedding “feast”. These little buns with beef, onions, and cabbage inside were an all-in-one winter meal.

Frau Funk contributed a bottle of fresh milk to round out the table and poured some in the mismatched glasses left by Herr Schneider’s son. She had watched as Lina struggled through the vows and interpreted it as nerves about what it meant to be August’s wife. So, she sidled up to Lina and whispered, “Do not be afraid or worried, dear. August is a good man, and he will be a good husband to you. Being a wife, and Lord willing, a mother is our God-given purpose. He will equip you with everything you need when you need it.”

“Thank you, your words are so kind,” Lina answered. I cannot tell this saintly woman the truth about my tears. And she let the misunderstanding remain.

They sat down at the table, and this time August, head of the household, prayed over their meal. “Thank you, Father, for this bounty and the hands that prepared it. We ask your blessing on this household, this family, and all who enter this shop and home. Amen.”

August and Herr Funk jumped right into the basket of bierocks, almost burning their fingers on the warm buns. Frau Funk helped herself to a bun as well. Lina held her glass of milk, wondering if she could swallow even a little of it. She faked it too.

The men held a rousing conversation about what they had already seen, who they had already met, and what they hoped for their new homes in Lehigh. August was keenly interested in which families had wealth, money to spend on tailored clothing. He made mental note of the goods that the Funks complained of not finding in the local shops. I will stock these things when I have enough money to buy them.

August was excited to be speaking with friends and wrapped up so completely in the conversation that he failed to notice Lina taking her unused plate to the dish pail; and setting aside her milk to pour into a bowl for the alley cat. As the afternoon dusk stretched into a night sky, snow began to fall. Soon the Funks rose to go home before it accumulated too much for them to pass through it.

The new Herr and Frau Kessler cleaned up the table and dishes without a word, then retreated to their separate corners of the back room for the night. August’s wife did not sleep that night, nor for many nights after as she grieved the road of deception she now traveled.