“Yes, Mother. I realize that you were trying to protect me, but things would have been so much easier if I had known sooner…”
“Would they, Katja? Would they really have been easier? I wanted to tell you. Many times I wanted to tell you. But I knew it would hurt you. I tried to believe that if I never told you, you would somehow be spared and that somehow you would never find out. But of course, I couldn’t save you from the pain. We escaped from the Nazis with our lives, but we brought with us our memories.” Zofia sighed deeply. “I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me.
However, as important as all of this is, it is not the point of my story. It is not the reason I’ve chosen to tell you about the love affair I had when I was young. What I want you to know is this… I never thought I would love another man after the man who destroyed me when I was just a girl, and I never thought I would have another child. But then, Katja, the very first time that I looked at you…you filled that empty place in my heart. I loved you from the first moment I saw you. Then as you now know, when I escaped Treblinka, I could not take you. You did not belong to me yet. I missed you so much.
I was wandering for days. I thought my life was over. I was sure I was going to die. In fact, I wanted it all to end. I wanted to throw away God’s greatest gift to me, my life. I was so tired that I fell asleep under a tree hoping I would never awaken. And do you know what happened?”
Katja shook her head. Her mother had so many secrets.
“I did awaken, and when I did your father, Isaac, was standing over me. I didn’t know it at the time, but my new life had begun. I was on the brink of despair, and God sent me the most wonderful man any woman could ever want, the one true love of my life. Then I became pregnant in the forest and because of the conditions, I miscarried. After that I couldn’t have any more children, and it seemed as if the need for a child would fester in my heart and eat away at me until there was nothing left. But again God was good, and He brought you to me.”
Katja nodded. Even with all the secrets, even with all the pain, Zofia had given her everything… “I love you, Mom.”
“But the point of my story is this. Right now you still miss Elan. He was your whole world. My guess is that he was your lover. You are afraid that you still love him. Perhaps you do. But I believe in my heart that God has sent you a true love, the same way that he sent Isaac to me. It may take some time for you to see what has happened and to understand it, but I believe that is the truth.”
“I do love Mendel. I just don’t know why I’m haunted by these crazy thoughts of Elan.”
“Because he is gone, and you have no idea what has become of him. The two of you were so close, and then he turned into a different person in a matter of hours. I think it’s more of an obsession with the mystery of how he could just walk away without looking back, than true love.”
Katja shrugged her shoulders and nodded. “Yes, you could be right.”
That night, Katja couldn’t sleep. Her emotions coiled inside of her like a snake. She got up and went to Mendel’s room and then stood outside the door in the moonlight, her bare feet cool against the moist grass. She lifted her hand to knock. She wanted to see him, to talk to him, to be reassured the way that only Mendel could reassure her. But it was the night before the wedding, and it was considered bad luck for the groom to see the bride until she began to walk toward him, holding her father’s arm while he waited under the chuppah.
Katja sighed. A soft breeze rustled the leaves of an olive tree only a few feet away. She turned and began to return to her room when Mendel’s door creaked open, breaking the stillness of the night. He stood there in his boxer shorts, handsome in his shy, disheveled way. His hair was mussed, and his eyes were still glassy with sleep.
“I thought I heard someone out here. Kat, are you all right?”
“Yes, I’m fine. I just wanted to see you.”
“Come in.”
“Are you sure? It’s the night before the wedding. It’s bad luck.”
“Bubbe maisse, nothing but an old grandmother’s tale. I don’t believe in silly superstitions. Come on in. Look at you— you’re chilled and shaking.”
She entered his room. The only light in his room was the silver beam of light that the moon cast through the window. Sitting on his bed, Katja looked up at him. “Mendel, I’m scared.” She sat down on his bed. He pulled his blanket from his bed and wrapped it around her shoulders and then knelt down and took one of her feet into his hands, gently warming it between his palms.
“You’re freezing.” He held her feet against his chest to warm them.
“Oh Mendel,” she said with tears forming in her eyes.
“What is it? What’s wrong?”
“I’m afraid that I still love Elan.”
He nodded, turning away quickly, and ran his tongue across his lower lip. Then he got up and walked to the window, and she was instantly sorry she’d told him. There was a long silence, and then he cleared his throat. “Do you love me?” He turned to face her. A deep line had formed between his brows.
She was quiet for several minutes breathing heavily. “I do. I always have. It’s just all of these memories. They keep coming back to me…”
He didn’t say another word. He walked toward her slowly. Then he stood before her and held her gaze. “I love you, Kat.” Mendel bent to reach her, where she sat on the bed, and took her into his arms, kissing her with all the passion and love he felt in his heart. This time, Mendel held nothing back. He felt he must win her love. He must take all of the love inside of him and pour it into her, to fill all of the emptiness that Elan had left. Then maybe, she would love him, too.
Katja felt a shiver as her body surrendered to his passion. This was a side of Mendel she’d never seen. His lips brushed her neck, her collarbone. He kissed her softly behind her ear. Slowly, he lowered her onto his bed. She trembled with the force of his kisses. And for the first time, Mendel made love to Katja. It was like nothing she’d ever known. She felt the power of his love, and her soul stirred in response.
She lay spent in his arms, out of breath and amazed. He was still her best friend, her Mendel, but he was so much more, much more than she’d ever imagined. Mendel was her true beshert…
“Do you think we ruined it?” she asked, her voice barely a whisper, but she already knew the answer.
“Ruined what, my sweetheart?” he said in a husky voice.
“Our wedding night?”
He laughed softly “Never, this is only the beginning. I promise you, Kat, you are going to be happy. I’ll see to it.”
She did not speak, but a knowing smile crept across her face. Yes, she may still think of Elan once in a while but from this night forward, she knew that her feelings for Mendel would grow.
They lay curled up in each other’s arms for a long time drifting in and out of sleep. Then as the sun began to peek through the darkness of the night, Katja silently slid out of bed and went back to her room to prepare for the wedding.
Zofia brought some pita bread with hummus to Katja’s room at around ten the following morning.
“Nervous?” she asked her daughter.
“A little, yes.”
“You should eat something. It will settle your stomach.”
Katja nodded breaking off small bits of bread.
“As soon as you’re done eating, I want you to try your gown on one last time just to be sure it doesn’t need any more alterations. My goodness, you’ve lost more weight.”
“Nerves,” Katja said, smiling.
“Try to relax. Everything will be fine.”
“I know it will,” Katja said. After last night, for the first time she believed it.
While Katja was nibbling, Zofia went to her own room and got the gown. She carefully carried the dress back to Katja.
“Mom, when did you sew these beautiful pearls all over the collar of this dress?!”
“I wanted to surprise you. I did them by hand over the last few weeks.”
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“It’s gorgeous,” Katja said, running her fingers over the fine needlework.
“It’s for my precious daughter.”
Katja smiled and shook her head. She knew how hard this intricate work was on Zofia, as her eyes were not as good as they were when she was younger. But for Katja, Zofia had worked tirelessly to make the most beautiful dress she’d ever made. Katja felt the tears well up in her eyes. The love she felt for Zofia was beyond words. Zofia was her mother, the only mother she’d ever known. And even with all the secrets and all the mysteries, she knew and had always known that everything Zofia did was out of love for her.
That strange woman, her birth mother, who she’d met in Germany, was nothing more than a pitiful creature who’d been another victim of the Nazi terror. It was true, that woman had given birth to her, but it was Zofia’s gentle hand that had soothed her when she was ill. It was Zofia that had held her when she cried gut wrenching tears after Elan left. And now, it was Zofia who stood there smiling, holding this beautiful dress that she’d made for her daughter’s wedding. Zofia was her mother.
“I’m going to take a bath. Will you help me with my hair?”
“Of course, that’s why I’m here. I want to help you with everything,” Zofia said. “Oy, what a joyous day this is for your father and me…”
CHAPTER 8
The music played as Katja stood at the front of the aisle. She glanced around her at all the heads that were turned toward the bride. Everyone Katja knew was seated in the main room of the kibbutz, everyone she’d grown up with: Rachel, Shana, all of her extended family. Her heart swelled with love, with love for these people, for this religion, for this country. She drew a deep breath and felt God’s love rain down upon her.
Then she took Isaac’s arm and smiled up at him. There were tears in his eyes. Together they walked down the white carpet in the main hall of the kibbutz toward the chuppah, a canopy decorated with white roses, pink mums, and pink and white carnations. Katja’s heart fluttered with tenderness when she saw the look of love, admiration, and gratitude on Mendel’s face. He adored her.
She looked up into Isaac’s eyes and said, “I love you, Papa.” Then Katja glanced at Zofia who was smiling through her tears—Mama, my mother.
As was tradition, she walked around Mendel seven times and then came to stand beside him.
The rabbi began to speak, and all the guests were silent.
I am getting married. I can’t believe this is really happening, Katja thought. A flash of Elan’s face entered her mind’s eye, but Katja pushed it away. Everything seemed to be spinning in a whirlwind, and before she knew it, Mendel had stepped on the glass, and the guests were all yelling “Mazel Tov!”
Gently Mendel kissed her, and then she took his arm. And together as man and wife, they walked back down the aisle.
In the main dining room, there were long tables covered with white cloths and filled with food that the women of the kibbutz had spent the last several days preparing. A band of musicians who lived on the kibbutz played Israeli folk songs.
Rachel was the first to come up and kiss Katja. “Mazel Tov, Kat,” she said, hugging Katja tightly. “You made the right choice.”
“Thank you, Rach.”
“He’s a wonderful person, and no other man could ever love you as much. Trust me. I know Mendel. He’s been in love with you since we were thirteen.”
Katja laughed. “Why did he tell you and not me?”
“Because he was always afraid of losing your friendship.”
Katja nodded. “It makes sense, I guess.”
“What’s the matter, Kat?” Rachel’s eyes narrowed. Katja knew Rachel was studying her.
“I don’t know. I am afraid. I still occasionally think about Elan. Does that mean that I still love him?”
“I don’t know, only you know the answer to that question. But it could just be that the relationship between you two ended so abruptly, and you still have unresolved feelings. Besides, it’s none of my business, but Elan is a real jerk. He’s a conceited, self-righteous bastard. If he were any kind of a man, he wouldn’t have left you for something that you had no control over. And the truth is, I think that if you were ever married to him, you would get to know him and probably realize what a lousy guy he is. You are still thinking about him because he’s the one who got away. You’ve heard that saying?”
Katja nodded. “I love Mendel. I know that there is no one better for me, but I wish these thoughts and memories would disappear.”
“Perhaps in time, they will. Does Mendel know how you feel?”
“I told him.”
“What did he say?”
“He says he loves me, and I know that he does. He is so understanding.”
“And you love him, give it time.”
“I do love him. Rach. I see that you didn’t bring your girlfriend.”
“I couldn’t. I knew how everyone would feel about me being a lesbian. I guess I’m a coward.”
“Don’t be so hard on yourself. Listen, once we’re settled, I want you and your girlfriend to come and visit Mendel and me in Tel Aviv.”
“We will. We will…”
This was no orthodox reception. Men and women sat and danced together. Katja danced with her father, and he wished her all the happiness in the world. There was no rising of the bride and groom on chairs. Instead, they danced together without kerchiefs between them.
Later that night Mendel made love to Katja with a sweet, undemanding tenderness that gave her a feeling of safety and security that she’d never known before. After it was over, she lay in his arms as he gently stroked her hair.
CHAPTER 9
Mendel was still in law school, and neither of their families were well-to-do. Finances were short, but the newlyweds were able to stay at a hotel outside Tel Aviv and spend two night and days lying in the sun and enjoying romantic Mediterranean sunsets.
After the brief honeymoon, the newlyweds moved into their new apartment. Katja brought some of her furnishings, and Mendel happily allowed her to decorate any way that she chose. Mendel had always lived in a functional bachelor apartment, but now Katja had created a home. She bought a fluffy, paisley bedspread with matching curtains. In the bathroom, she had brightly colored bath towels and shower curtain.
Mendel graduated law school and passed the bar. He and Chaim, his good friend from law school, opened a practice together. Mendel worked long hours was not yet earning much money. They were planning to be contract lawyers, but in the beginning, they took any cases offered to them. Since they had not yet built a reputation, jobs were scarce.
Katja continued working at her job. In the evenings she prepared dinner and waited for Mendel, to come home to eat. Even though it was often late and they were both tired, they always spent at least an hour discussing what had happened during the day. It was a release for both of them.
Although they wanted children, they didn’t want to start their family until Mendel had established his practice, so they were careful to use protection. Mendel was not convinced that the newly discovered birth control pill was safe. It had only been on the market a few years, and he was afraid it might have undiscovered side effects. He didn’t want Katja to take the risk, even though it would be more convenient than condoms. She agreed with him, and they didn’t use the birth control pill. And so they settled into their new lives as man and wife.
Mendel knew how much Katja loved to dance. He was never much of a dancer, but he wanted to make her happy, so he arranged for the two of them to take dancing lessons. Katja was excited about the whole idea. She was not a great dancer, but she was better than Mendel who tried but was still clumsy. They learned to waltz, to cha cha, to tango, and Mendel learned, as best he could, to jitterbug. Even after several months of lessons, Mendel was never the dancer that Elan was, but Kat found that he was a lot of fun, and his awkward attempts made them both laugh.
On the weekends, they went to dance clubs where they practiced what they’d l
earned. As time went by, Mendel improved, and they became semi-accomplished dance partners. Because they always danced together, they knew each other’s moves. Sometimes, just because they were such an attractive couple, the other dancers would stop to watch them.
One night, two months into their marriage, Katja had prepared a light dinner and was reading while she was awaiting Mendel’s return from work when the phone rang. It was Zofia.
“Mama?”
Zofia’s voice was cracked, but controlled. “Katja, you’d better come home. Your father is very sick. He’s had a heart attack.”
“Mama…is he all right?”
“I don’t know. I am with him at the hospital. Please come.”
“I’ll leave right away.”
Katja’s fingers trembled as she dialed Mendel’s number on the rotary phone. “Mendel, my father is very sick. He’s in the hospital. I have to go.”
“I’ll be right there. I’m going with you. Wait for me.”
She hung up the receiver and went into the bedroom. She was unable to concentrate but still managed to pack a suitcase. Thoughts of her home, her father, and her mother ran like an unstoppable movie reel through her mind. Her father was too young to have a heart attack. He was only forty-eight. She’d feared the loss or death of her parents even when she was a little girl, but she had no reason to think about losing them. Katja had never felt secure. Now the pain and shock that had awakened her in nightmares was real, and it was so severe that it numbed her.
Mendel arrived fifteen minutes later. Katja was sitting on the sofa, pale, silent, her knees tucked under her, her arms crossed over her chest. He went to her and wrapped her in his arms like a cloak of safety as if by sheer will he could shield her from the world. She was not crying, but her body was trembling so hard that he could not steady her.
“Shh, I’m here,” he whispered. Her head fell upon his chest.
“I’m afraid, Mendel.”
“I know…I know… I’m here. I’m with you,” he spoke softly into her hair as he held her tightly to try to stop her from shaking.
To Be An Israeli: The Fourth Book in the All My Love, Detrick series Page 4
