Hannah sighed inwardly. Oh no, here come the questions that every mother dreads. The questions about the wedding night, the questions . . . and answers for which every word was a strain.
She suddenly felt old and tired and far removed from all of that. What could she tell her daughter to take away with her? Who was she to give good advice?
“Don’t worry, child, everything will fall into place. There are things between a husband and wife that don’t need to be discussed ahead of time. They simply happen. And despite what you might imagine, it won’t be bad, believe me,” said Hannah with as much determination as she could muster. Then she straightened her back, slid open the drawer beneath the tabletop, and took out paper and a pencil. “Why don’t we write to your father? He will be as surprised as any of us to hear the happy news.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
Baden-Baden, November 2, 1871
My dearest Flora!
We have been apart for three weeks now, and my desire to see you again is so strong that I have a mind to board the next train to G?nningen.
Flora looked up from Friedrich’s letter. “He misses me . . . Oh, I miss him so much! What a stupid idea for me to stay here until the wedding.”
“What do you mean, a stupid idea?” said Seraphine. “Don’t we have enough work to do before the big day?”
“Of course.” Flora’s gaze drifted wistfully out the window in the direction of Baden-Baden.
It was a dreary November day, and the fog hung so low over the Swabian Mountains that G?nningen was engulfed in a damp, cool pall. “If only the wedding wasn’t so far off.”
Suse and Seraphine were with Flora in her room. Seraphine was doing her best to alter her beautiful but far-too-small wedding dress to fit Flora. Again and again, she pinned layers of material into place at the neckline, at the back, and around the skirt, and Flora then had to turn and bend and sit. Either the top would fit and the skirt would billow unattractively, or the skirt hung nicely but the fabric stretched uncomfortably across Flora’s chest.
Throughout the fitting, Flora would not let anyone stop her from reading Friedrich’s letter, which had come that morning. She was hungry for news from Baden-Baden. And, of course, she had to tell Suse and Seraphine everything.
“‘I am using every free minute to connect my room and Sybille’s,’” she read aloud. “‘The door is already out, although I still have to fix the parquetry in the connecting section and then rearrange the furniture. I hope you like the little nest I am preparing for the two of us.’”
Suse sighed. “A little nest! How romantic.”
Flora’s brow furrowed. “It’s hard to imagine going back to Baden-Baden and not sharing a room with Sabine but living with Friedrich instead.”
“So tell us, where are your rooms, exactly? And what do they look like?” Seraphine asked.
“On the second floor, just beside his parents’ bedroom. I hope they don’t snore too loudly.” Flora giggled. “But I can’t tell you what Friedrich’s room looks like, because I’ve never seen it. Sybille’s room is really just a small room with a window. You’ll have to come and visit me as soon as you can, so I can show you everything.” She turned to the next page of the letter. “But what’s this? ‘Mother wants me to tell you that she agrees to having the wedding on January thirteenth in G?nningen. And she approves of the seating arrangements your dear mother went to such a lot of trouble to sketch out and enclose in your last letter. The same goes for all the other suggestions your mother put forward—I do believe the two of them will get on very well.’”
Flora looked up. “January the thirteenth has been officially sanctioned, thank God. If I think about dragging this all out any longer . . . The thirteenth is a Saturday, and the flower shop is normally closed from midday Saturday until Monday morning, so it makes sense to have the wedding on a weekend. But I honestly did not think that Ernestine would be so willing to have the wedding here in G?nningen.”
Suse laughed. “Usually, the groom’s parents are happy if they have as little to do with the arrangements as possible. All the work, you know, not to mention the money.”
Flora shrugged. “There will only be a dozen guests coming from Friedrich’s side, no more, but we’ll have more than two hundred. Getting all of them to Baden-Baden would have been expensive.” She turned back to her letter.
“‘Mother is terribly excited. She’s starting a thousand things before she finishes even one. By the time January thirteenth arrives, her nerves will be completely shot, and mine and my father’s to boot! Darling, you can be happy that you don’t have to be here right now.’”
Flora grimaced. “He goes on to say that unfortunately his sister can’t come to the wedding. I’m not really sad about that. Just before I left Baden-Baden, Friedrich and I went to the Lichtenthal Abbey on a Sunday, where I met Sybille.”
“So what’s she like? Not everyone can claim a nun in the family,” said Suse.
“She wore a martyred look on her face, and I found her rather boring. She kept making snide remarks, as if she was somehow envious of Friedrich. In any case, we only stayed for an hour, and I was quite happy to leave again.” Flora frowned. “It’s strange, actually. The nunnery is situated very close to the town, but it is its own world, very different from the town.”
Then Flora’s thoughts had moved on, and she turned to the next page of the letter. “Flora, please,” Seraphine mumbled, and she tugged a pin from between her lips. “Stop fidgeting. If you don’t hold still, we’re not going to get anywhere with this dress.”
The wedding preparations progressed with every passing week, and Seraphine actually managed the miracle of refashioning her old wedding dress so that it fit Flora perfectly.
Hannah dedicated herself to organizing the celebrations at The Eagle, the biggest inn in the village. It had not only a large hall, but also many rooms where the Sonnenschein family and others from Baden-Baden could stay on the night of the wedding. Besides, her own wedding celebration had taken place there many years before, and Hannah’s mood turned sentimental at the memory. If only Helmut would finally get home—she would have loved to sit and reminisce with him.
If you think the guy is the right one for our Flora, then tell them both they have my blessing, he had written to Hannah once Flora and Friedrich had written to him to tell him of their plans. Flora chose him herself, so he will be the right one, Hannah had written back, and in his next letter Helmut had replied, Let’s hope our Flora has the same knack in picking husbands as her mother did back then.
“Oh, Helmut, my darling! Finally!” Sobbing with joy, Hannah threw herself into her husband’s arms. “I was really starting to fear that you wouldn’t make it back in time.” Hannah covered his face with a thousand kisses.
Helmut, who still had his seed sack over his shoulder, smiled from ear to ear and tried half-heartedly to free himself from his wife. “Christmas Eve is not until tomorrow, so we’re more than on time, aren’t we?”
Valentin, still standing behind Helmut in the doorway, cleared his throat. “Uh, perhaps I could get inside, too?” He was looking off over Helmut’s shoulder toward the stairs.
Where is Seraphine? Flora wondered, waiting impatiently herself for her chance to embrace her father. The men come home from weeks spent in distant lands, and there was no sign of her aunt. It was, admittedly, not necessary to be as effusive about it as the two turtledoves—as her parents called themselves—but a heartfelt “Welcome home” when her husband returned after so long away was not too much to expect.
How sad her uncle looked . . . Flora threw her arms around him and hugged him tightly. “I’m so happy to see you home again.”
Helmut, who had finally managed to escape Hannah, laughed loudly. “And you don’t know how happy we are to be here! I could not have stood another day on the road. Now it is time to celebrate. Good business behind us, Christmas ahead—”