The Other Einstein(30)

“I think so,” I stammered. I was terrified.

He gripped my forearms with his hands. “Miss Mari?, I am madly in love with you. I promise that my love will never impede your profession. In fact, my love will only propel you forward in your work. Together, we will become the ideal bohemian couple—equal in love and work.”

“Truly?” I asked, my voice quivering. Could Mr. Einstein and I have the life I hadn’t even dared to dream about? Perhaps even richer?

“Truly.”

“Then I am certain,” I said breathily.

He placed his lips on mine as gently as he had cradled his beloved violin. They were as soft and full as I remembered. I moved my lips against his, and we kissed.

Izgoobio sam sye. I was lost.





Chapter 12


February 12, 1900

Zürich, Switzerland

“I promise he will be in class tomorrow, Professor Weber.” I implored Weber to forgive Albert his absence, his third that week alone.

“It would be easier to overlook this, Miss Mari?, if I believed he was ill. But if you will recall, he missed class last week due to an alleged bout of gout, and yet, I spotted him at a café on R?mistrasse when I walked home for the evening. He was well enough for cafés but not for classrooms.” The nostrils of Weber’s long nose flared, and I realized my begging had little chance of success.

“You have my word, Professor Weber. And you have no cause to doubt my word, do you?”

Weber exhaled, more the bray of an angry mule than a sigh. “Why do you persist on his behalf, Miss Mari?? He is just your lab partner, not your ward. Mr. Einstein is clever, but he believes that no one can teach him anything. Professor Pernet is far more incensed at Mr. Einstein’s behavior than I am.”

Even if I wasn’t successful in my pleas, at least I’d learned that our ruse was working; Weber believed that Albert and I were only classmates. We had tried to keep our relationship quiet from our fellow students and friends as well, limiting our public affections to sideward glances or the odd brush of hands under a table at Café Metropole. I wanted none of the change in treatment from my classmates and Albert’s friends that so often happened when one morphed from colleague to loved one. As if one’s intellect disappeared in the transition. I suspected that Mr. Grossman knew—I’d accidentally brushed up against his hand once instead of Albert’s—but his attitude toward me remained unchanged.

By his question, I sensed an opening in Weber’s unusually impenetrable exterior. I decided to take a chance at angering him and pushed a little further. “Please, Professor Weber.”

“All right, Miss Mari?. But this is purely on the strength of your solid reputation. You are the student with promise; your intellect and hard work will take you far. You even overcame the strange decision to spend a term at Heidelberg. I have hopes for your future.”

Feeling relief at Weber’s decision about Albert and some surprise at his rare compliment, especially given that, behind the scenes a year and a half later, I still struggled to overcome my Heidelberg decision, I started to thank him. But then I realized he wasn’t finished.

“You warn Mr. Einstein that, if he fails to attend class tomorrow, he risks not only his own standing but yours as well.”

? ? ?

“My little Dollie,” Albert drawled as I walked into the Engelbrecht Pension parlor; he adored calling me Dollie, the diminutive of Doxerl or little doll. He looked comfortable, sunk into the settee, a book on his knee and his pipe in the corner of his mouth. Waiting for me.

I didn’t answer him with his companion nickname of Johnnie, the diminutive of Jonzerl. In fact, I didn’t feel like responding to him at all.

I was frustrated that I’d had to endanger my own reputation because Albert had begun to skip Weber’s classes in order to study independently. Albert believed that together, he and I could solve major scientific riddles—but only if I went to class and took copious notes on Weber’s traditional topics while Albert stayed behind and caught up on newer physicists like Boltzmann and Helmholtz. Albert’s scheme involved our collaboration and sharing of old and new theories, and we were currently exploring the nature of light and electromagnetism. I’d been an enthusiastic participant in this experiment as a modern, bohemian couple, even though it meant I stayed up into the night undertaking this double duty when I already had the extra work stemming from my time away in Heidelberg. Until now.

Putting down our shared copy of the textbook by physicist Paul Drude, Albert reached for my hand. Pressing it to his cheek, he cooed, “So cold this little paw. I shall warm it for you.”

I still didn’t say anything. When he gently tried to pull me down onto the cushion next to him, I stayed standing.

“How did it go with Weber, Dollie?”

Usually, I loved the way my nickname sounded with his accent. Today, the very word “Dollie” grated. I felt more like a puppet than a beloved doll.

“Not so well, Albert. Weber only agreed to admit you back into class tomorrow if I would stake my reputation on it. So I did.”

He released my hand and stood up to face me. “I’ve asked too much of you, Dollie. I’m sorry.”

“Really, Albert, one of us must receive a degree if your bohemian plans for us are to come true. How will we support ourselves otherwise? Neither one of us will be fit to teach physics if you fail because you’ve abandoned class and I fail because I’ve promised you would attend.” I admonished him, but it was hard to stay firm when he offered apologies and implored me with his eyes. I was weak. And he knew it.