March 1945
Good morning.” Piet, ever the dutiful husband, gave Anki her customary wake-up kiss as she stood over the coal stove and fried a little ham Corrie had brought for them.
“Good morning.” She slid the meat onto a white china plate and set it on the kitchen table. Without saying another word, she poured a cup of ersatz coffee and placed it in front of her spouse.
Her stomach rebelled at the sight of the food, but she choked back the wave of queasiness and sat across the blue-cloth-covered table from Piet.
He folded his hands and bowed his blond head. “Dear Father, thank You for the provision of this food and for the hands that prepared it. Bless it to our bodies and strengthen us for this day. In Your Son’s name, amen.”
Though it was located in the front room, separated from the kitchen by a wall, Anki heard the mantel clock keep time while Piet’s fork and knife clanked against the plate. She heard him swallow as he kept his attention focused on the food. She nibbled at a bit of dry toast and moved the meat around her dish without taking a bite. Piet didn’t comment on her lack of appetite.
When at last he pushed back his breakfast and downed his coffee, she went to the light and bright front room and brought him the Bible from its spot on the end table beside her brown chair. He read a psalm—Anki had no idea which one—closed in prayer, scraped his chair back, and left the room.
Both of the dishes and the pan were washed and put away before he descended the stairs. With another peck on her cheek, he slipped into his klompen and disappeared out the back door.
A typical day in her life now.
She ran her finger over the bookcase and end table in the front room. Dusty. She did not have the umph to clean it. She walked a circuit of the room and into the kitchen. An oppressive weight bore down on her.
How long would it be until Piet forgave her? It would have to be before she told him about the baby so he didn’t pay attention to her for the baby’s sake. Then again, telling him about their child might lessen the strain between them.
She had to get out of this house. She grabbed her ration book and set a course for Hear Smeet’s bakery.
The cool air refreshed her.
The line in front of the little shop stretched out the door and onto the street. When the war first started and standing in line for bread was a novelty, it was almost fun to go shopping. Women chatted and preschool children played. It could be a pleasant way to spend a morning.
That didn’t last long. For the most part, the women greeted each other, then drew their coats around themselves to ward off the North Sea chill, stamping their feet until they reached the counter inside.
Anki queued up and said a hello to the women, all of whom she recognized. Other than that, she didn’t engage in idle chitchat.
Someone tapped her shoulder, jostling her in the crowd. She tapped again. Frowning, she turned to see Nell, her childhood friend. She jostled one infant on her hip while three other little ones, their button noses all running, clung to her legs. A brown strand of hair had escaped from its pins and she struggled to get it under control.
“Anki.” Nell hugged her. The baby, crushed between them, whimpered. “Is everything good with you? I have been thinking about you so much. I never get a chance to talk to you anymore. Ach, that is how it goes. Never does the house stay clean for more than a minute. Rikhart, please keep your hands off your sister. And the kids require my attention, so I don’t have a spare minute to breathe, but I am glad I ran into you today.”
Anki found herself smiling. “I am fine. How about you?”
“Fine, fine. The kids don’t go to school at all because the schools are closed. They stay at home and drive me crazy. Margrit, please get off the ground. You have dirt all over. Luuk works in the garden a little here and a little there when he can, but I have had to take in washing and mending for the Germans just to feed us. Another thing to do.”
For that one thing Anki could be happy. Piet had a job.
“And now baby number five is on its way. Can you believe it? This is not the time to bring a child into the world, but God had different ideas. What can we do? Falco is only nine months old. Hillie, don’t put that in your mouth.”
Anki peeked at her friend’s stomach, a slight bulge announcing the blessed event. “Congratulations.” She leaned in. “We have some news of our own.”
Nell clapped her chapped hands. “That’s wonderful. When is the baby due? What did Piet have to say when you told him? I wish I could have been there to see his face. He must have been so surprised. You waited so long for this and will make a great mother.”
“He doesn’t know.”
“He doesn’t know? How far along are you? You have to tell him. He won’t be upset. Rikhart, I told you not to pinch your sister.”
“Far enough that I am going to have to tell him soon.”
They moved forward with the line. Anki’s stomach tossed when she caught a whiff of the yeasty bread.
Nell scrunched her round face. “Why aren’t you telling him? He will be so excited. He will want to know right away.”
“You know.” Anki waved her hand. “This comes up and that comes up and the subject of babies never comes up.”
Nell shook her head, another strand of hair escaping from its pins. “Nothing should come up. Hush, Falco. I know how many years you have wanted this. You should be making an announcement in front of the tsjerke. You can’t hide it forever. What is happening that you don’t want to share this news with your husband? Is the pregnancy not going well?”
“The baby is fine.” She paused for a moment and gathered her thoughts. “Has Luuk ever been so angry with you that he stopped speaking to you?”
“Is that what is happening? Nee, Luuk has never stopped talking to me. Not for long, anyway. He often tells me not to talk so much. Listen, I have known you both since we were children. Whatever squabble you are having will pass. Especially once you tell him about the baby.” She squeezed Anki’s arm.
They now entered the small bakery, the once-laden shelves bare save for a few small loaves of bread. In times past they had held banket and olliebollen and other pastries, as well as raisin bread and brown bread. All of that had disappeared. Now their ration coupons would get them nothing but a small loaf of bread, more like a roll than anything.
“Ja, you are right. I have to tell him. Soon.”
“Now, Anki, now. In this time, with the war, you can’t waste a moment with each other. As soon as he comes home from work, you have to tell him. He will be so happy, all the anger will be forgotten. I know these things. You need to listen to me.”
Anki laughed. “You always were the smartest of the two of us, including when it came to boys.” She presented her coupons and the baker wrapped up two loaves for her. “Here, let me take the baby so you have one hand free.”
Anki cuddled with the little boy, dark hair peeping from under a blue knitted cap. The infant alternated between studying her and screwing up his face. She jiggled him. To think, soon she would have a little one like this at home.
Nell made her purchase and took back the infant. “I will come to your house tomorrow and we can talk babies. How fun. Margrit, please hold your brother’s hand. Our children will be the same age. Imagine it. They can play together and if I have a girl and you have a boy, perhaps they could even get married.”
Hoping not to step on a child, Anki leaned in and kissed her friend’s rosy cheek. Piet did need to know. Right away.
THE MONOTONOUS WEEKS passed slower than the snow melts. All of Gerrit’s nerve endings pulsed. He walked about the house, played checkers and dominoes with Johan, and stroked Pepper.
Maarten had become a regular visitor to the de Vries’s house, but today his banging at the door held an air of urgency. Gerrit shooed Pepper from his lap, left his spot on the blue davenport in the front room, and went to admit his friend.
Without a word, Maarten pushed past him and shut the door behind himself. He swiped the sweat from his forehead. “I came as soon as I could.” His forged ausweis allowed him some measure of freedom of movement.
“What is going on?”
Maarten shook his head. “I am having a hard time believing this.”
Gerrit waited. His friend took a minute to catch his breath.
“First thing this morning the Gestapo raided Doktor Boukma’s home. They ransacked the place and found the false bookcase. When they opened it, they discovered five Juden hiding.”
Gerrit’s stomach dropped to his toes. “Nee. Nee.”
Maarten tousled his dark hair. “The Juden went without a fuss, but Doktor Boukma resisted. Who knows why he did that. Things might have gone better if he hadn’t. He struggled with one of the soldiers, shouting, screaming. The soldiers shot the doktor dead on the spot.”
A surge of heat raced through Gerrit’s body. He pounded his fist into his hand. “Those brutes. Those beasts. He was an old man. How many more will die before all of this is over?” He paced from one end of the hall to the other. “These men need to be brought to justice. We have to find a way to give them what they deserve.”
Maarten blocked his way, halting Gerrit’s pacing. “We will. Don’t doubt that. The sweetest revenge will come when the Allies march into town.”
“Nee. We can’t wait that long. We have to take action. Now. Otherwise, too many more innocent people will be hurt or killed. Too many have already been hurt and killed.” He closed his eyes to block out the image of Dorathee crying. “Put me to work, Maarten.”
“Don’t rush it. Remember what happened the last time you moved around too soon. Get stronger and then we will talk. For the time being, we will make do.”
“There is no reason for me to sit in this house any longer. You need me and I need to get back to work. I can step right in. When all the Juden and onderduikers appear after the war, we will show those Nazi pigs who was triumphant.”
Gerrit returned to the davenport in the front room and Maarten followed, taking a seat on Cornelia’s rocker. “Nee, we aren’t going to rush you. That is my final word.”
“I can’t sit here all day long while I could be out there giving assistance to all who need it and kicking the Germans back to their Fatherland. Don’t turn me away. You need me.”
Johan picked that moment to thunder down the stairs and into the room. He stopped short and studied Gerrit.
“Sit down.” Gerrit motioned to the empty place next to him on the davenport.
Johan obeyed. “This doesn’t sound good.”
Maarten opened his mouth, but Gerrit shook his head. He needed to be the one to deliver this news to Cornelia’s brother. “Doktor Boukma’s house was raided this morning and the Juden hiding there were taken away. The doktor was shot and killed.”
Johan’s mouth swung open and his eyes widened. “This is a joke, right?”
“Nee. It’s the truth.”
The young man paused for a second, staring at Gerrit, then Maarten, then Gerrit again. A second later he bounded from his chair. “Corrie needs to know.”
“We will tell her when she gets home.”
“That is too long to wait. I have to go now. I mean, she’ll want to know.”
Cornelia would not be happy about Johan leaving the house. Gerrit had to keep her brother from putting himself in peril. “Fish won’t keep, but bad news will. She will find out soon enough.”
“And when she finds out we have known all day and haven’t told her, she will scold each one of us. I, for one, have had enough reprimands from her.”
Gerrit stood and grabbed Johan by his upper arm. “Stay put, please. Maarten has an ausweis and can bring her word.”
“Information like this needs to come from a family member. I will stick to the fields and stay alert.”
A second later the door slammed.