Marie hurried to set the table, they had company, her father's friends, veterans from WWI. The only reason her old man hadn't had to fight were his injuries from the first World War. He'd lost both his legs from landmines, and half of his face had melted off due to an explosion.
Even though Marie hated war she'd always respected her father and his friends. They'd fought for the country; even if her country was not one she was always proud of. So she never argued with him, she never told him her dreams and ambitions, and she always helped him whenever he needed anything. The only times she stood up for herself was when she vistited Opa Hans because 'father, sometimes he needs me too'. Marie's mother had passed away from a heart attack three days after Marie had turned sixteen, and apart from her two brothers she was their only child. When she cared for Hans, one of her neighbors would come over and help her father out. But he hated to receive help from others.
"Who's coming today, Papa?" She asked as she lay out the plates. He was already sitting at the table, shuffling card decks as if everyone was already here and ready for a game.
"I've only invited Christoph and Kurt this time."
"Kurt?" Marie asked with a sigh. Her father nodded. He furrowed his brows.
"Do you have something against Kurt?"
"Yes, I do, Papa. I've already told you that." She said, shooting him an angry look. She'd used to like Kurt very much. He was the only one of the three who wasn't missing a body part, but he'd gone a bit crazy in the head and he'd lost all sense of self respect. He'd groped her several times, even after she'd told her Papa, and he'd screamed at his daughter, saying it was her fault for wearing a skirt that fell just over her knees. Kurt had started to call her tattle-tale ever since, but he'd never touched her again.
"And I already told you, Kurts a friend of mine. If you don't want to talk to him, at least be polite and smile."
"I will Papa. Mach dir keine Sorgen (don't worry)." She kissed him on the cheek. "What drink do you want tonight?"
"I want brandy. Armenian brandy."
"Good choice."
She head to the kitchen to retrieve the bottle. The doorbell rang. She rushed to get it, bottle in her hand. To her disgust it was Kurt. He beamed at her and gave her a hug, pressing her against his frail body. "How are you, tattle-tale?"
"I couldn't be better, thank you. How're you and how's the wife?" She added the part about his spouse to clearly communicate that she was still off limits. He just laughed and wave his hand through the air, as if he wanted to swatt away her words.
"We couldn't be better. Thank you. You're father's in the kitchen?" He always referred to Michael as 'your father' when he was around Marie. It made it sound like she was still a little girl who didn't know her father by name.
"Michael's at the dining room table. And Christophs bound to be here soon." Kurt pushed past her and entered the dining room. She heard the two men greet each other and almost immediatlly laughter rung through the doors. She hated Kurt's laugh.
Christoph was alright. He wasn't the brightest fellow, and he was missing his left hand, but he had a cheerfull round face and a red nose. He was the only one of the three friends with facial hair. He sported a bristly moustache.
Chrisoph arrived and Marie was forced to escort him into the dining room, where she pulled out his chair and made sure he was comftorable. "She gives the old man treatment as if he were her husband and won't even spare me a glance." Kurt joked. Michael and Christoph laughed and Marie turned pink in the cheeks. She hated that they were sexist. If she would ever make a comment about them they'd freak out, but then again, she was a woman.
"Would you like anything else?" She asked the small group. Her father had already begun dealing the cards.
"This is going to be a good hand..." He murmured, ignoring her question.
"If you don't need anything I'll be in the study. Just call me if any of you require anything." She said with a big smile. She finally got to pull herself back from the sausage party. She hated all of them a bit, even her father.
But although she didn't love her father all that much, she absolutly adored his study. It was full of sketches he'd made as a young man and hundreds of books. When she was young and her Papa had still accepted her dream of becoming a pilot, he'd showed her books about planes. She'd learned to read english and german just to read the books.
Marie curled up on the big chair in the corner off the office and picked up the book next to the stand. Despite hating Russians and Slavs, her father loved Russian literature. The book she held in her hand was Crime and Punishment, a true classic that she'd read twice. Sometimes, when she felt especially angry and crazy, she felt like Raskolnikow. But her favourite character was Katerina Iwanowna. There was something about the old mother that was heart-breaking yet understandable.
She opened the book. It got her hooked from the first sentence, just as it had the first two times.
"Mariechen..." She heard the whistling voice and started. Marie looked up, and there he was, Kurt. He had a wheezy and almost whistly voice, he'd claimed it was from the gas that had been used in the first world war, but Michael had always said he'd been born with it.
"Kurt..." She stood up. She didn't like being smaller than him. He was fifty-two years old and skinny but he wasn't at all weak.
"I wanted to ask you something...I've already asked your father..."
"What is it Kurt?" She asked. He could hear the annoyance in her voice but he chose to ignore it.
"I want to marry you, tattle-tale." He said and clucked his tongue. "I want to marry you." He came in the door, and closed it behind him. The house was old and the walls were thick. Neither her father nor Christoph would hear her scream, they were both half-deaf from the war.
"Kurt, I'm sure you don't mean that..." But he kept coming closer and closer. He licked his lips. When he tried to wink at her both eyelids closed and then fluttered open. He was shaking terribly, out of lust and nervosity. Finally the sweet little bird was cooped up somewhere where he could pet it...and even if it bit his fingers he'd still be able to clip it's wings.
"Oh Marie." He pulled her close by the waist. She lay her hands flat on his chest and pushed, but he didn't budge. He was even stronger than she'd expected.
"I have a boyfriend, Kurt." She said loudly. "And I love him. We're going to get married." The last part was a lie, but she didn't care that she was being dishonest. This was a situation in which lying was alright.
"You won't tell your father right?" He asked, leaning in to kiss her. "You're a good little girl, you keep secrets to yourself."
"If you were going to marry me it wouldn't be a secret you hypocrite." She angrily twisted in his grip. He let go. Dropping his arms to his sides like a little child. "And don't touch me again, Kurt."
"Or what? Your Papa wouldn't believe you. Now let me have you..." He rushed in for another kiss, but she firmly pushed him away. She hadn't wanted to use the last resort, but she had too. It was quite possibly the only way that she could keep him from raping her.
"I'll tell Joseph if you keep going!"
It shut him up. He eyed her suspiciously and after a second, decided that she wasn't blushing. See, Joseph was the man who'd taken her on his knee, the one who'd made fun of her dream of flying. He'd almost always been kind to her, and when she was twelve she'd develloped a crush on him. He was young, much younger than her father and Kurt. And he was very attractive. When she'd turned fifteen he'd given her a dress for her birthday, it had made her father angry, but he'd allowed her to keep it after Joseph had begged him too. A few days later Joseph had come by and was delighted to see her wearing it. He'd kissed her on the cheek and complimented her. That day she'd realized that he liked her too due to the fact that he couldn't tear his eyes off of her. They'd had a short but passionate relationship, even though they'd never kissed even once on the lips. Kurt had found out about them but by then Joseph had been a high-ranking official in the army and he'd threatened to make Kurt's life hell if he told her father. So Kurt had kept his mouth shut the past four years, and anytime she mentioned her past lover he backed off.
Marie wondered how Joseph was doing. He hadn't visited their home since 1939, since the start of the war. He was apparantly doing very important work. She smiled at his memory. He'd been the only man she'd ever truely loved, but she had an inkling that she could feel the same way about Killian...if only he was here now!