The Other Einstein(50)

“It seems all your paperwork is in order, Mr. Einstein and Miss Mari?,” the registrar said.

“Thank you, sir,” Albert responded.

“Are you ready for your vows?”

“Yes, sir,” we answered together, and I felt Mr. Solovine and Mr. Habicht draw nearer to us.

“Then let us begin.” The registrar cleared his throat and then bellowed, “Will you, Albert Einstein, take this woman, Mileva Mari?, to be your wife?”

“I will,” Albert answered as he fumbled for the simple silver band in his pocket. Hands shaking, he slid the band onto my ring finger.

The registrar turned to me and asked, “Will you, Mileva Mari?, take this man, Albert Einstein, to be your husband?”

Time slowed, and I stared into Albert’s deep brown eyes. Eyes that I once trusted implicitly and now had no choice but to rely on entirely. I had once longed for this moment with an almost painful urgency, and indeed, Mama and Helene assured me that this was the right thing to do—the only thing, for Lieserl’s sake—but I wondered what the future as Mrs. Einstein held for me. Since our student days had ended, trouble had reigned over our relationship, and Albert had disappointed me mightily with his mercurial treatment, with the endless waiting, and with his recalcitrance over Lieserl.

“Mileva?” Albert asked as I hesitated. “Are you all right?”

“I’m perfectly fine, just overwhelmed with the momentousness of this day.” The registrar nodded approvingly at my serious reaction to the vows. “Of course I will marry you, Albert Einstein.”

He grinned at me, the corners of his eyes crinkling in that way I once adored. Part of me still loved him, despite all I’d suffered. With steady hands, I slid a silver band, identical to mine, on his finger.

The registrar handed us our certificate. It listed us as Mr. and Mrs. Albert Einstein. No children. My heart lurched at the absence of Lieserl’s name. I painted a smile on my conflicted face and clutched Albert’s hand tightly, and we turned to our witnesses for their congratulations.

Directed by the registrar to sign the certificate, we paused our merriment to finalize the ceremony. As I watched, Albert received good-natured chuffs on the shoulder from Mr. Solovine and Mr. Habicht. I knew that I should have been happy, but a sadness gnawed at me. At what cost had I secured this marriage?

As we left the civil registrar’s office and walked down the stairs of the imposing governmental building, our wedding bands glistened in the weak winter sun. Bern was picturesque even in winter; encircled by the Aare River and surrounded by cliffs, the city perched on a dramatic promontory. The city itself was prettily decorated with red tile roofs, medieval buildings, cobblestone streets, and gurgling fountains. While it might have been more charming than Zürich, it lacked the capital’s cerebral energy and, to use a favorite word of Albert’s, bohemian spirit. Respectability ruled the day.

Albert grabbed my hand as we strolled down Bern’s uneven cobblestone streets, and I tried not to think of the moment I handed Lieserl to Mama and left her behind for Zürich. I attempted to banish from my mind the four months after that I spent alone in Zürich at the Engelbrecht Pension, wandering aimlessly during the day and crying myself to sleep every night while I waited in vain for Albert to visit or summon me because he was too busy on hikes and sails with his new friends in the hours he had free from the patent office. I squirreled away the painful memories of my move to Bern one month ago into the Herbst Pension on Thunstrasse, then the Suter Pension on Falkenplatz, and finally Schneider Pension on Bubenbergstrasse, where my empty arms ached to be filled by my warm plump Lieserl. I tried to bury my anger that it took the October deathbed permission of Albert’s father to finally make Albert move forward with our marriage plans. Instead, I forced myself to think about the union Albert and I had just formed and the promise it held of reuniting us as a whole family with Lieserl. My mood lightened.

“Let’s toast the newlyweds at Café im Kornhauskeller!” Mr. Habicht cried out.

Albert and I hadn’t planned any particular celebration to follow the ceremony; we had no family to laud the occasion with us, and I didn’t know Mr. Solovine and Mr. Habicht well. Both dark-haired, mustachioed, and dark-complected, on first glance, they looked alike, with the primary distinction between the two men consisting of Mr. Habicht’s glasses. They were Albert’s friends, the ones who had kept him well entertained in Bern while I languished in Zürich. Still, I was determined to make this day a fresh and happy beginning for us, so I called out, “Excellent idea, Mr. Habicht!”

Mr. Solovine held the door open for me as I entered the famous old Bern café. The establishment was surprisingly noisy and crowded given the midafternoon hour, but Albert and Mr. Habicht were able to secure a table from some older gentlemen about to depart. As Messrs. Habicht and Solovine excused themselves to purchase a bottle of wine for our foursome, Albert and I settled into two of the chairs. He leaned over to me and whispered in my ear, “Congratulations, Mrs. Einstein. We are now Ein Stein, one stone. I am looking forward to carrying you over the threshold.”

Blushing, I smiled at his sweet use of my new marital name, although in truth, it still reminded me of his mother, Pauline, the original Mrs. Einstein. I shivered at the thought of her. She had continued her strident opposition to our marriage, despite Albert’s father’s deathbed approval, and even sent a damning missive as recently as this morning.