A/N: Please review! Tell me if the story is worth rewriting!
Hope you guys like it.
()()()
Walking along the side of the home Landa took them to the back door. Elaine looked out at the backyard, already a lush green from the spring rains, and out to the sea. Slowly her eyes moved away from the calm ocean and up toward the house. It was a large home, consisting of two towers, a half tower, and three fire places. The porch was two stories and she assumed his bedroom opened up to the upper deck. It was a rustic brown, but beautiful, and Elaine tried to calculate how an immigrant colonel could afford a Cadillac and such a home so quickly after the war ended.
"Right through there," Landa said as he held the door open for his tow guests. Elaine gave him a soft smile of thanks as she stepped into the house but it quickly fell from her lips once they broke eye contact. The inside was decorated tastefully and had wide open space. She could quickly discern he was a man who liked to breath and probably found clutter abhorrent.
The back door brought them into a large kitchen. The kitchen table, seated with six chairs, was to their left, in front of large bay windows that reached the floor. Sun shown into the room lighting up the entire kitchen. Through a large archway door was a equally as pristine and neatly decorated sitting room. A large brown chair sat at the far end of a modestly sized coffee table and a couch rested to its left. Both these pieces of furniture were placed in front of a large stone fireplace that had a small fire burning out inside.
Landa extended his hand and insisted they sat down on the couch. Elaine sat closest to the brown chair that she assumed Landa would sit in.
"Nice man don't you think?" Robert asked as Landa prepared tea in the kitchen. Elaine let out a soft, feminine "humph" and reached to the side table. A small hard cover book was all that the table held and Elaine picked it up. She ran her fingers over the rough green cover to the red writing in the center.
"Der Prozess," she whispered to herself and opened the book.
"What was that my darling?" her father asked and Elaine shook her head.
"Oh nothing," she replied and looked inside the front cover. Inside scribbled in black ink were words she assumed were written in German and she assumed he had written them himself. She thumbed through the pages, looking at the strange lettering.
"Franz Kafka," Landa said as he placed the tray down and Elaine looked up from the book. Robert leaned forward and poured himself some tea. "One of my favorite authors. He was an Austrio-Hungarian you know."
"Was he," Elaine said. "I've heard of him. Aren't his books rather…disturbing?"
Robert handed Elaine a cup of tea and she thanked her father sweetly before turning back to their host.
"Yes, they can be, but that's what makes them so fascinating," Landa said and Elaine's lips curved upward slightly.
"Elaine is studying literature at Wellesley College," Robert said and Landa nodded.
"Do you plan to work after your education?" Landa asked and Elaine's eyes turned hard.
"I might," she replied. Landa took a sip of his tea and nodded.
"Either way, I've always found it imperative that women have access to further education. After all, they raise our future do they not?" Landa directed his question at Robert and he nodded.
"Oh yes. All of my children will have a proper education, but I must admit. My Elaine is the brightest of them all," he said proudly. Elaine's pale cheeks blushed softly and an embarrassed smile lifted her lips.
"Father please," Elaine said and her hands tightened on the book. She glanced over at Landa who was smiling gently.
"No need to be modest, my dear," Landa said. "A proud father cannot help himself."
"Do you have any children?" Robert asked and Landa shook his head.
"None living," he replied and Robert's faced flushed.
"I am so very sorry," Robert replied and set his tea glass back onto the tray.
"Oh no, it was very long ago," Landa reassured him. "I had a daughter, she was three. Jana. She died shortly after the Great War, of Spanish flu."
"That is dreadful," Robert said and Landa forced a smile. He rarely allowed himself to think about Johanna, but when he did it was painful. "And…your wife?"
"Sigrid died shortly before Jana. The Spanish flu again," he said. His pain at the memory of his little girl was suddenly replaced with the overwhelming disgust he felt at the mention of his late wife. If he were to look at a bright side of the Spanish flu, it was that he was no longer married to that insufferable woman.
"You didn't fall ill?" Elaine asked outlining Kafka's name on the book with her little finger.
"I did, but only shortly." He said and glanced down at her hands. His eyes took in her narrow waist and the curve of her hips as he did so. Robert took his downward gaze as the reaction of a man remembering the worst even possible in a person's life, the loss of a spouse and child, and didn't notice the rather lascivious look in his eye. When he looked up he smiled softly. "But that was all years ago."
"I apologize for bringing up such painful memories," Robert said genuinely and Landa nodded. There was a moment of comfortable silence, seeming to Robert a time to remember those who had been lost in the past tumultuous half decade. Landa had his gaze on Elaine, and Elaine was looking around the home with a neutral expression on her face. His story had clearly had little effect on Elaine, who was rather suspicious of him.
"How did you afford this house?" Elaine asked in a casual, almost respectful manner and Landa's eyebrows rose.
"Elaine!" Robert said in shock and Elaine looked toward him with slight innocence slight reproach.
"What?" She asked her father and turned back to look at Landa. Before Robert Hagen had the chance to do anything Elaine spoke again. "You were a Colonel weren't you? I know you get good enough benefits but surely an immigrant on a military pension couldn't afford a house of this size. Not to mention right on the water."
"Elaine, a young lady does not talk about a man's finances. And in his own home. I am so very sorry, Mr. Landa," Robert said.
"Hans, please," Landa said and smiled. He looked at Elaine for a solid, thick moment, before looking back to Robert. "Young ladies sometimes forget who they are speaking too. They think their impertinence cute…or amusing…"
"I was not trying to be cute or funny," Elaine snapped. "It's a fair question."
"It was a gift," he said.
"A gift?" She shot back quickly and Landa nodded. He stood and went to the fire place. He reached up on the mantel and picked up a small, rectangular black box with a clear glass cover. He sat back down and showed it to Elaine and Robert.
"It came with this," he said and Robert's lips parted. Elaine looked from her father to Landa and then back at the case doing her best to mask her confusion.
"Is that?...Is that…" Robert seemed stunned and Landa smiled.
"A Congressional Medal of Honor?" he asked and glanced at Elaine who seemed thoroughly surprised. "Yes it is."
"That is amazing," Robert said and Landa nodded and stood to put it back on the mantel. "I am quite proud of it."
"As you should be," Robert replied and Landa sat back down.
"What did you do?" she asked and Landa looked at her. There was a slight furrow in her brow and he thought she was even more attractive when angry.
"Beg pardon?" Landa asked and Elaine ignored the stern look she was receiving from her father.
"The government doesn't just give away those medals, nor do they buy luxurious houses on Nantucket Island. Especially for run of the mill turncoats," she said and Landa fought the urge to smile as Robert's face turned red. "So, you had to have done something quite magnificent."
"I can only say it was quite significant to ending the war," he said and Elaine pursed her lips a moment.
"Did you do this before or after a swastika was carved on your head?" She asked and Landa felt his jaw clench. He had found her amusing at first but now he was getting on his nerves. He'd enjoy putting her in her place when the time came.
"Elaine that is enough!" Robert said and although Elaine's face was flushed and knew full well she was in the wrong, she continued.
"Last I had heard it wasn't required of S.S officers," she said and Landa's eyes narrowed. The scar everyone knew about, but that piece of information had been kept sealed.
"What makes you think I was in the S.S?" he asked.
"Answer my question first," she said and Robert stood.
"That's it. I am very sorry Mr. Landa but I am bringing my daughter home now," he said and Elaine and Landa both stood. "Appologize to Mr. Landa for being rude Elaine."
"I wasn't being rude," Elaine said but her face was red with embarrassment. She knew she had crossed a line, and the man had a right to his privacy, and being attacked in his own home was wrong, but she had been unable to stop herself. She had been dying to know those questions since June Parkwell said she saw him in the market. Landa watched her stand her ground with a small half smile on his face.
"Apologize!" Robert nearly yelled and Elaine looked at Mr. Landa.
"I apologize for my bad before Mr. Landa," she said. "I hope you can forgive me."
She was hopelessly embarrassed, being scolded like a little girl in front of a recipient of the Congressional Medal of Honor and she wanted nothing more than to go outside and bury herself.
"No man could stay angry with you for long, Fraulein," he said and took her hand in his. He lowered his head, placed a soft kiss to her hand, and stood up straight. She smiled softly and took her hand away. Landa lead them to the back door they entered and walked them to their car. As they were saying good bye Elaine turned to wait by the car and bit the inside of her cheek as her father apologized for her one more time.
"You are more than welcome to borrow it if you like," Landa said as he said farewell to Elaine. "But I ask you to take care of it. It is my only souvenir from home."
Elaine looked at him in confusion for a moment before looking down and realized she had not once put down his book. In fact, her fingers were clamped around it so tightly one would think her life depended on it. She blushed an even deeper red that Landa found pleasing.
"Oh no, I couldn't," she said. "but thank you very much."
"No, if you would like to read it," he said and she looked down at the book and shook her head as she spoke.
"I cannot read German," she said.
"Not yet," Robert said and Elaine and Landa looked at him. "Elaine added German to her language studies last year, didn't you?"
"Yes," Elaine said. "I figured it would be good to know if you all took over the world."
"Practical," Landa said and Elaine smiled. "Well, I would be happy to help you with the language if you ever need any assistance. I am a native speaker after all."
"That would be wonderful, Mr. Landa," Robert said and open Elaine's door. Elaine got into the car silently with one last glance at Landa.
"Hans, please," he said and Robert came back around the car. He opened his own door and looked to Landa.
"On Monday we are having a dinner at my home. Just a few friends. I would be so glad if you could come," he said and Landa looked skeptical.
"Oh, I don't know-"
"Please, as an apology for my daughter and a way to welcome you to the community,"
Landa looked into the car at Elaine who was looking at her hands before looking back at Robert.
"As long as I am not intruding," he said and Robert smiled warmly.
"Of course not," he said and took his hand. They shook hands warmly and Robert, with another good bye, got into the car. The car backed out of the gravel drive way and pulled away. Hans waved to the way and tucked the book he had taken back from Elaine under his arm.
So far what he had liked what he saw from Elaine. She was strong, appeared to be hard headed and wouldn't be easily bowled over. However, she had the young essence of innocence about her and appeared to be easily brought to her knees…figuratively. And she was beautiful. Landa could picture her in the cinema, perhaps giving Von Hamersmark a run for her money, the miserable bitch. If she could act that is.
Landa walked backed into his house and into the living room. He placed the book back on his side table and leaned back into his chair. He removed his hat and tossed it onto the couch beside him. Reaching up, his finger tips gently trailed over the raised pink skin on his forehead and sighed. How was he going to explain that?
