The Other Einstein(52)

Since she was never far from my thoughts, sometimes I mentioned Lieserl. Albert never initiated conversations about her. He would quietly listen while I recounted Mama’s letters. But he always changed the subject when I raised the specific question of bringing Lieserl to Bern, muttering “later” if I dared ask him when we might fetch her. And he would shake his head at any construct I fashioned—a cousin’s daughter, an adopted child—to explain Lieserl’s existence.

Still, I hadn’t entirely given up hope. In my last letter, I’d asked Mama to have a formal portrait done of Lieserl and send it to us. I was certain that if Albert saw his beautiful daughter, he couldn’t resist my pleas to have Lieserl live with us. Surely, we could come up with some excuse that would appease the Swiss authorities and any inquisitive friends. I prayed this postal delivery would contain the photograph.

A single envelope sat in the mailbox, and I examined it. From the handwriting, I knew it was from Mama, but the slim package couldn’t fit the photograph for which I’d hoped. I trudged upstairs to our tiny living room. Dust flew out of the cushions as I settled onto the ocher settee. No matter how hard I scrubbed, I couldn’t clean away the must of the previous tenants.

Dear Mitza,

I am sorry to write you with terrible news. Scarlet fever has been running rampant throughout the countryside again. Although we have taken every precaution to protect Lieserl against it, she has contracted the disease. The red rash has already appeared on her face and neck and has begun spreading to her trunk. Her fever is very high, and cold baths will not abate it. This, of course, presents the biggest concern. The doctor has examined her and informed us that there is nothing to do but let nature take its course. And pray.

We are giving her the best possible care, but she is quite uncomfortable and longing for you. You may wish to come.

Much love,

Mama

Scarlet fever? No, no, no, not my Lieserl.

Children died from scarlet fever all the time. Even if they didn’t die, they suffered terribly during the illness. Scars, deafness, kidney and heart failure, encephalitis, and blindness were just a few of the long-term ramifications for survivors.

I had to go.

Wiping my tears away, I raced to our bedroom to pack my things. As I pulled down my trunk from the top of the armoire, I heard the front door slam. Albert was home early. I kept packing. There was a train—the Arlberg train—that evening that would start the long journey to Novi Sad and from there to Ka?, where Lieserl was staying with my parents now that Papa had gone to the Spire for the summer months. I didn’t have a spare moment to fuss over Albert’s return home.

“Dollie?” he called out, sounding perplexed. He was used to me greeting him at the door.

“In the bedroom.”

The smoke from his pipe preceded him into the bedroom. “Dollie, what are you doing?”

I handed him the letter from Mama and continued packing.

“So will you go to Ka??”

I looked up, startled at his question. How could I stay away? “Of course.”

“For how long?”

“Until Lieserl recovers.”

“Can’t your mother handle this? You could be away for an awfully long time. A proper wife shouldn’t leave her husband alone for too long. How will I manage?”

I stared at him. Had he really just asked me those questions? For all his selfish inquiries, he hadn’t asked a single question about the scarlet fever or Lieserl’s condition. Where was his compassion and concern for his daughter? All that seemed to matter was his inconvenience at my absence. I wanted to scream at him. Shake him senseless, even.

Instead, I said, “No, Albert. I’m her mother. I will handle her illness.”

“But I’m your husband.”

I could not believe what I was hearing. “Are you telling me I cannot go?” I said loudly with my hands on my hips. Albert looked shocked. He had never heard me raise my voice.

He didn’t answer. By his silence, was I to surmise his objection? I didn’t have time for his selfishness or whatever ridiculous thoughts were passing through his head.

I snapped the lid of my trunk closed, grabbed my citizenship papers, and put on my gray traveling coat and hat. Lugging my battered tin and leather trunk off the bed, I began to drag it out the front door of our apartment and down our steep stairs, no small feat with my limp. As I pulled the trunk out onto the street to hail a passing hansom cab to take me to the train station, I looked back up the steps.

Albert stood at the top of the staircase, watching me walk away.





Chapter 24


August 27, 1903, and September 19, 1903

Salzburg, Austria, and Ka?, Serbia

A terrible thought plagued the initial leg of my long journey to Ka?. Had I gone too far with Albert?

Part of me hated that this thought even occurred to me, but storming off and defying his wishes, no matter how outrageous and unjust they were, could undo all the groundwork I’d laid for his acceptance of Lieserl into our life in Bern. If she survived the scarlet fever, that was. Should I appease him in some way? The thought of it rankled terribly, but I needed him on my side. Especially since I suspected I was pregnant with another child.

At 3:20 p.m., the train pulled into the Salzburg, Austria, station. I had exactly ten minutes while the train boarded more passengers before it continued on to the next stop. Was it enough time to write and send Albert a note? I decided to take the chance.