The First Wife: A Short Story

by Tommy Black

  Part 6

  Exhausted from the morning walk and the struggle with Eduard, Mileva had fallen asleep unknowingly in the large chair in front of the fire. The sound of Eduard feeding himself in the dining room awoke her. By the look of the fire, Mileva had not been asleep long. She noted the sun had just set and estimated it to be approximately 5 p.m., time to prepare dinner for Eduard. As she rose from the chair, her old bones protested, but she persisted, finding Eduard at the table with a wry smile on his face.

  “Hello Mother, I pray you napped well in the chair. I must say it looked frightfully uncomfortable.”

  “Yes dear, it was not the best idea I’ve had. I’m afraid it may be mid-summer before I work these kinks out.”

  Mileva tried to sound upbeat as she heated water on the stove for coffee. Eduard’s chipper attitude was a surprise. After all these years of it occurring, Mileva found it impossible to reconcile that only a few short hours ago he was stark naked standing in the window screaming like a loon. Yet now, here he sat at her table as calm and serene as can be, as though nothing had happened. Initially years ago she thought him a fraud, either faking his sudden attacks or faking his instantaneous and oblivious recovery. Over time she had learned to accept that he had no recollection of the incidents. Well, she had quit questioning him about them anyway, it was just easier.

  “Don’t worry Mother,” Eduard said as Mileva stared blankly at the table before them, “I’ve made my supper and eaten, you mustn’t worry about that though.”

  “Yes dear, that’s wonderful, thank you. Did you rest well today?” she asked stoically.

  “No, I feel exhausted. It’s as though I were drug through the streets against my will. I’m not certain what to make of it, but I have bruises all over my arms and torso. I believe I will be retiring again soon.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that dear. Hopefully you will get some rest.”

  “Yes ma’am, thank you. I’ve left you some cheese and bread on the plate next to the stove, here,” with that Eduard stood and shuffled the two or three steps over and retrieved the plate he had set aside. It wasn’t much, but at least she did not have to fix anything. She didn’t think she would be able to do that, not tonight.

  As she began to eat silently, Mileva once again noticed the letter on the table. She surreptitiously moved her hand closer to it in an attempt to cover it with her napkin before Eduard saw it and asked about it.

  “Don’t worry Mother,” Eduard said dryly, “I read it. He’s got a lot of nerve. If I were you I’d throw it away and forget you ever saw it.” With that, Eduard moved over, kissed Mileva’s forehead and left the kitchen.

  Mileva sitting alone, eating silently, recalled the last enjoyable meal she had with Albert before they married. It had been over a year since Lieserl had been born and had been a joyous time. Albert had taken a leave of absence to visit but then returned to work and his family. His letters again came less and less often until Mileva wrote demanding he come see his daughter. When this did not convince him to come, Mileva gave up. She decided to enjoy her daughter and stay at home with her parents.

  She wanted for nothing and found joy in Lieserl until Lieserl fell ill. The doctor told her not to worry, several youngsters are diagnosed with scarlet fever at this age and pulled through with no problems, but Mileva was not feeling optimistic. She had not heard from Albert in several weeks, and Lieserl had been such a sickly and frail child since her birth. Over the next few days Lieserl’s health continued to decline to the point Mileva’s father sent a message to Bern for Albert to return. When word finally reached Mileva that Albert was aware of the gravity of the situation and would come immediately, it was too late. Lieserl had not survived the night.

  Instead of coming to the side of Mileva and their ill daughter, Albert arrived in time to attend the funeral. Even now, sitting at the table as an elderly woman, tears overcame Mileva, and her heart ached with an emptiness that had consumed her since the day she watched the tiny coffin of her daughter lowered into the ground. Albert had seemed changed as well. Although he was warm and comforting, he was no longer the jovial, flirtatious man Mileva had grown to love, and he never would be again. When questioned about his lack of communication and Mileva’s fears they were growing apart he was dismissive, simply stating his work and the advances he was making in his physics theories were taking more of his time than he realized.

  “I’m sorry Dolly,” Albert had said, calling her by his pet name for her for the first time in many, many months. “I’ve been working five days a week, teaching as well as tutoring, looking for a professorship and working late each night on my theories.”

  “You used to include me in these discussions,” Mileva replied flatly not looking at Albert.

  “Oh my love, please do not over-interpret my absences as a lack of respect or love for you. I simply thought . . . “

  “What,” Mileva demanded, looking up at Albert finally, "What did you think so simply?”

  Albert looked down, his face suddenly crimson with small beads of sweat forming on his forehead.

  “I didn’t want to disturb your time with Lieserl. I,” Albert looked away.

  “No, no that’s not it. You know Lieserl was no burden. Besides, I have my family to help. Why did you push me away? Why put distance between us? Are you ashamed of your old Serbian mistress and your illegitimate daughter?” Mileva’s voice rose steadily as anger coursed through her veins.

  “No, no that’s not it at all Mileva. Darling, you know I adore you, and I’ve missed you and Lieserl completely. I simply,” Albert stumbled, looking down at his hands again, “I simply did not wish to disturb you with discussions of academics and physics since you left University,”

  Albert looked up. Mileva’s anger quickly dissipated as she noted tears welling in Albert’s large brown eyes. She realized immediately that he was trying to protect her, trying not to remind her of her academic past, of her failure. Mileva could not respond. Instead she collapsed into Albert’s arms. Overcome with grief, her body shuddered as Albert embraced her, stroking her hair and kissing her forehead. When she was finally calm enough to see, Mileva wiped her eyes and looked up at Albert. His cheeks were wet with tears, and his eyes were closed tightly as he bit his lower lip. Mileva knew at that moment she would never love another man, could never be with another, no matter what her fate with Albert. She too closed her eyes, squeezed Albert tightly, and rested her head against his chest.

  Albert stayed several weeks with Mileva following Lieserl’s funeral. Before returning to Bern, the couple were married in a small civil ceremony. Although the emptiness remained, Mileva found solace in their love.