Her Mother's Hope
her.” Marta flopped back on the spring grass and put her hands behind her head. “I have others, too, for Streusel , Jägerschnitzel , and Züricher Geschnetzeltes .”
    Rosie licked her fingers. “Are you going to start a restaurant?”
    Marta snickered. “And have Frau Fischer coming after me with her meat cleaver?” She looked up at the cloudless blue sky and allowed herself to dream. “No. I’m just collecting the best so that someday, when I have a hotel or boardinghouse, I’ll know how to cook well enough to keep my guests happy.”
    “They’ll be happy and fat!” Rosie laughed. She flopped back beside Marta. “It’s good to have you home, and not just because you’ve learned how to make the best sausage I’ve ever tasted!”
    “I’m not going to stay long.”
    “What do you mean?”
    “Every muscle in my body aches. I’m nothing more than a pack mule carrying trays up and down the mountain. I need to find another job where I can learn more. And there are none in Steffisburg or Thun.”
    Rosie grinned. “Think of the honor of working inside the walls of Schloss Thun !”
    “Very funny.”
    “Go to Interlaken, then. It’s not so far away you couldn’t come home every few weeks to visit. We could still have our walks in the hills. My father could help you. He knows the manager of the Germania Hotel .”
    Herr Gilgan was more than willing. He wrote Marta a letter of recommendation. “Derry Weib always needs good workers. I’ll send him a wire.” A few days later, he told Marta that Herr Weib needed an assistant cook. “He’ll pay fifty francs a month, and you’ll have a room off the kitchen.”
    Mama congratulated Marta on her good fortune. Papa didn’t care where she worked as long as she paid him twenty francs a month. Elise took the news poorly. “How long will you be gone this time? And don’t tell me to sleep with the cat. She purrs and keeps me awake.”
    “Grow up, Elise!”
    Her sister burst into tears and turned to Mama for comfort, then felt too sick to attend church the next day.
    “Mama, you can’t keep coddling her.”
    “She has such a tender heart. She’s easily bruised.”
    When services ended, Papa stood talking with other business owners, discussing hard times. Hermann went off with his friends. Mama tucked Marta’s hand into the crook of her arm. “Let’s take a walk. It’s been a while since I’ve gone up the hill to the meadow. Remember how we used to walk there when you were a little girl?” They stopped several times along the way. “You’ve been restless all week, Marta. Something’s on your mind.”
    “I’m worried about you, Mama. You work too hard.”
    She patted Marta’s hand. “I do what needs to be done, and I enjoy it.”
    She sighed. “So you’re going to Interlaken. I think this will be the beginning of a long journey for you.” She walked more and more slowly, each breath more difficult. When they came to the bench near the road to Hotel Edelweiss , Mama could go no further. “When I was a girl, I walked all day in the hills.” Her lips had turned a faint tinge of blue despite the warmth of the afternoon.
    “We should go back, Mama.”
    “Not yet. Let me sit awhile in the sunshine.” Mama didn’t look down over Steffisburg, but up at the heavens. A dozen finches flew by, chittering as they landed among the branches of a nearby tree. A crow had come too near a nest and smaller birds attacked wildly, driving it away. Mama’s eyes shone with tears. “Papa called you a cuckoo bird, once.”
    “I remember.”
    She had been five or six at the time, and Papa had flown into one of his drunken rages. He grabbed her by the hair and shoved her across the room to the mirror. “Look at you! You’re nothing like your mother! You’re nothing like me! Dark hair and muddy eyes. It’s like some cuckoo laid her egg in our nest and left us stuck with her ugly chick. Who will be fool enough to take you off my hands?” Papa had let go of her

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