Der Witwer
It was all Diedrick’s idea.
Since they were boys it was usually Diedrick’s idea, and Ranulf blindly followed.
That Sunday morning, he had the hired girl dress the children smartly for church. Since the daughter had been old enough to sit still and still sein he’d been taking them to mass every Sunday. “Your mutti would want you to go to church,” he said stiffly as they walked the two blocks. The children didn’t remember Adelaide, but they went along without complaint. It was a cold home.
“You should remarry,” Diedrick suggested one evening. “My sister knows a family. Their eldest daughter would be good for you, she says.”
Ranulf gave no indication that he was interested, but then, Diedrick didn’t need approval. Even when Adelaide had been alive, it was Diedrick who made decisions for him. The next Sunday he was waiting in front of the house when they returned from mass with a picture and a small greeting card.
The girl in the picture was the age Adelaide had been when she died, almost three years ago. Her hair was fair and lovely. Ranulf couldn’t imagine why such a girl would want to meet a man nearing 40 with two children of his own already. The card read simply:
To Mr. König:
I am Frieda Krause. Your good friend Diedreick Huber recommended you to me. I was raised strong Catholic and have a good woman’s education.
Marlene will bring her to your church soon, so that you can meet her,” Diedrick said. “For now we must send her a photo of you and the children.” He pulled out a small, bulky camera. “Stand there,” he indicated the brick and stone stretch in front of the house. Ranulf took the boy’s hand in his and steered them into a line. “If you must,” he murmured. The shutter snapped closed/open once.
Over coffee, Diedrick revealed more. Frieda was only 26, but had been married at the young age of 19. Her husband died shortly after, and Frieda devoted herself to church. She had a small degree in German Literature and had, for a short time, worked as a schoolteacher. She had no children from her first marriage, and had recently discovered that she was barren. Hearing about Ranulf, she hoped to finally have a stable marriage and children to mother.
“You should write her a short letter. Here,” Diedrick found the stationery. “You dictate and I’ll write.”
Ranulf hid a smile in a sip of coffee and began, knowing that his friend was twisting his words.
To Frieda Krause:
I am Ranulf König, a widower and father of two children: a boy aged 6 and a girl aged 4. We are a Catholic family. Our home is not very big, but it is comfortable and we have all that we need. Marlene Huber, as I understand, has invited you to our church. I hope you will come. Danke.
I enclose a picture of my family.
The hired girl put the children to bed, and Diedrick stuffed the letter into an envelope. “I will develop the picture in the morning and send it with Marlene.” He seemed excited as he went out into the late afternoon. Ranulf closed the curtains with a sigh. Since they were boys he had loved Diedrick. Loved him like a friend, and a brother and a man. It had been Diedrick who introduced him to Adelaide so many years ago, after taking her out once or twice and deciding she was far too nice a girl for him.
Diedrick himself never married.
Ranulf poured himself a drink and wandered upstairs, pausing to admire the sleeping faces of his children.
In the first years of his mourning, Diedrick had been strangely absent. It was only now that he was constantly present again. Ranulf looked and looked for a note of melancholy or regret in his friend’s eye, but there was none. Diedrick was happy to be a bachelor and more than happy to see Ranulf’s heartache as loneliness whose only cure was a beautiful blonde Catholic girl.
Frieda’s picture is slanted against the table in the hallway, beside the telephone. She would make a good mother, wouldn’t she? And she was barren. She wouldn’t insist on the rituals of flesh every night. She would lay quietly and not invite him to touch her. She would lay peacefully, as peacefully as Adelaide did. And if she ever came to notice the way that he followed Diedrick, she would not say a word, as Adelaide had.
Because then he would be twice a widower.
Wow! I did start to see the attraction between Ranulf and Diedrick before the big reveal, but I didn’t see HOW he had become a widower so young. Well done.
I honestly didn’t plan on Ranulf/Diedrick at all. I came to the middle of the story and realized it was happening, then went with it!
omg beautiful! quite chilling… the ending (abt being a widower twice) was a great twist
Thank you!
Ooh, that was good.
Very moving. Like the writing style very much. Good story.
Thank you! This is the first time I had a post featured on the Freshly Pressed page and I’m really happy with hoow this short story came out, though I actually aurprised myself by the end!
Reblogged this on Fitting the Square Peg and commented:
Smell the roses now
Whoa. Now that’s an ending. I had wrinkled brows with the cold house image, and chills when I discovered why. Wonderful writing. Thank you for sharing.
Oh, great surprise in the very last sentence!
Believe me, it was a surprise to me, too!
I know what you mean. Isn’t it great when you start writing and when you’re finished you’re amazed at where it took you??
Congrats on being Freshly Pressed! Good writing.
Thanks! I was so pleased to see my piece on the page. I felt famous!
I can’t wait until we find out the truth about the picture. I’m sure I’ll like all of our versions better, though.
Excellent! Loved it
Nicely done! It haunts the reader with more questions and I found myself going back and re-reading various sections. Thank you
I like the pace of your writing. You seem very talented. Good luck to you.
That was one good story and put me in mind of The Talented Mr Ripley, which just might be my favourite movie of all time.
I’ve never seen this movie… think I should give it a looksee.
oh yes. For me it has everything. A young Matt Damon, a young Jude Law, beautiful italian scenery, a great story line and intrigue along your story’s lines.
…well…um…GREAT! What a wonderful post, I wasn’t sure how to convey my feedback, but I think “wonderful” will do! 😀 Congrats on being Freshly Pressed! Very nice writing.
Being a widower, I can appreciate the character in this story.
Great story and strong ending. Decidedly dark. Since I am always making typos myself, I have become a compulsive editor: “blidly followed” should read, “blindly followed”. “Stationery” with a “e” is what we write on (not an “a” – because we buy the stuff from a stationer’s). Also, would Ranulf not be more likely to say, “Your *Mutti* would want you to go to church.” to such young children, even if he is stiff? Please forgive me for point out these minor things! Congratulations on being Freshly Pressed!
Thanks for catching those for me! I initially wrote the story on my iPad, so I’m sure autocorrect is largely to blame.
I hope you stick around and read any other stories I decide to post!
Yes. I’ll be back. 🙂
Fantastic twist. I didn’t see it coming. Bravo!
Brilliant ! enjoyed it a lot !
Awesome Stuff!
Oooo, that was good. Reminds me of Roald Dahl’s “Lamb to the Slaughter,” my favorite short story. Seriously nice.