From the Ashes of War, page 14
part #3 of The War Trilogy Series
“How was the game?” she asked.
He put a finger to his lips, but it was too late.
“Yeah, Danny,” Paul said, “tell Anya who won the game.”
“Cubs lost,” he said under his breath.
“No, no, no, buddy,” Joe chided. “Be a good sport and say it so we can all hear.”
He tucked his wife under his arm and faced them with a grand sweeping gesture. “All right, fine. THE CUBS LOST TO THE DODGERS. There. Happy?”
“Quite, thank you,” Paul answered, giving him a thumbs-up as Joe patted him on the back.
They laughed and chatted as they took their seats and feasted on a meal of grilled fresh trout, roasted vegetables, pan-fried potatoes, and crisp salad greens.
A perfect evening in every way.
Well, almost.
Danny glanced again at his watch, then caught Anya’s eye. She tilted her head just so, her eyes studying the hands of his watch. He couldn’t stop staring at her, willfully memorizing everything he could take in. The reflection of candlelight dancing in her eyes. The way the breeze toyed with her hair. The shy smile teasing her lips as she obviously read his mind.
“Just a few minutes more,” she whispered in his ear.
He nodded, threading his fingers through hers and bringing them to his lips.
A moment later, Phillip asked, “Anya, has Danny had a chance to tell you about our discussion on the way back from Brooklyn?”
Danny bounced the heel of his hand off his forehead. “I can’t believe I forgot! But why don’t you tell her?”
Anya looked back and forth between them. “Tell me what?”
“I was asking Danny about your plans once you arrive back in your hometown in Holland. And as you might recall from your time in London, I happen to be quite adept when it comes to the logistics in manners like this. I also know a lot of people all across the European Theater, and chances are, I can help smooth the way for you. Clear up some of that pesky red tape and perhaps make things a little easier when you’re ready to bring your father home to the States.”
She stared at him for a moment until she realized they were all waiting for her response. “Yes. Yes, of course. Phillip. That would be wonderful.”
“I was hoping you’d say that,” he answered, with a wide grin. “Of course, I can’t make any promises, and there are no guarantees. When the war ended, the Nazis burned massive amounts of documentation as quickly as they could before they ran off like the miserable street rats they were. Which means the majority of lists and logs of those who were interned in the camps were, for the most part, destroyed. Made it a nightmare for anyone trying to find lost family members or friends.”
“But you said your friend Helga has seen him with her own eyes, right?” Sybil asked. “So she knows where to find him?”
“Yes, at least that’s what she said. Honestly, I have no idea.”
Danny tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear. “But knowing you’ve got someone like Phillip pulling a few strings will surely take some of the pressure off of you, honey. Remember, this is the guy who got you girls on one of the first war bride ships and made sure you could travel together. In my book, that makes him a miracle worker.”
“Anya!” Gigi squealed, pounding the table. “Weren’t we just talking about that this morning on the porch? How you needed lots and lots of miracles?”
“Well, there you have it,” Kate added, “Your first miracle!”
“It’s a sign!” Gigi hollered.
Sybil raised her glass. “And may it be the first of many!”
“The first of many!” they cheered, raising their glasses.
21
Later, the four couples followed a footpath down toward the lake where Joe’s father had lit a small bonfire. As Danny and Anya pulled up the rear, he wrapped his arm around her shoulders and lowered his voice.
“Anya, we can stay a little while, but it’s getting kind of late.”
She glanced over at him with a sly smile. “Yes, I know it’s late. Though I stopped counting after the twentieth time you checked your watch.”
“You were counting?”
“It wasn’t as if you tried to hide it.”
“But we’ve got to leave by six in the morning, and you need to get some rest.”
“So this is about me getting enough sleep?”
Her coy expression made him laugh. “Well sure. What did you think?”
She leveled her gaze at him. “I’m sure I wouldn’t know.”
He smiled as she slid her hand in his and led him to the Adirondack chairs surrounding the fire.
“We have a special treat for you girls tonight,” Mr. Miller said. “We had such a good time introducing Kate to these when she first joined us back in February, we thought we’d share them with you.”
“Which explains why I’m so fat now,” she said, patting her barely-showing tummy.
“Uh no, sweetheart, I don’t think that’s why you’re—”
“Watch it, Joe,” Paul warned in a fake whisper. “You’re treading into dangerous waters, buddy.”
“Right. Thanks for the heads up. I only meant to explain to my beautiful wife that she’s with child, and thus, not fat. Just pregnant.”
“Nice save,” Danny teased.
Joe feigned a loud sigh of relief. “And don’t I know it.”
“As I was saying,” Joe’s father continued, “our Kate balked the first time we made these s’mores for her, but now she loves these messy little treats as much as we do.”
“Wait until you taste one,” Kate said. “You won’t believe anything so messy can taste so good.”
He handed each of them a straightened wire clothes hanger. “Boys, you all know how to make these, right?”
“Sure. We grew up on ’em, right, guys?” Paul said.
Danny nodded. “First time I had one was at church camp when I was a kid.”
“Me too, but I haven’t had one in years,” Phillip said. “And needless to say, marshmallows were hard to come by in England during the war.”
“Good, then you boys can help your wives assemble their s’mores.”
“Are you saying ‘ores’, Mr. Miller?” Anya asked.
“Please, just call me Lee.” He smiled as he reached for the marshmallows. “No, think of it as ‘some more’ then run those two words together—s’mores. And once you taste one, you’ll see why. Go ahead and try one.”
The guys helped their wives load plump marshmallows onto the end of their wire sticks, then showed how to heat them over the burning logs.
Gigi giggled when hers caught fire and Paul came to the rescue, blowing the flame out. They chatted and laughed until at last the marshmallows were roasted, or in some cases, burnt rather crisp. Then they put pieces of a chocolate bar on a graham cracker, pushed the gooey marshmallow onto it, then topped it with another cracker and squished it all together.
“There. Now carefully take a bite,” Lee said.
A unanimous chorus of mmms accompanied the crackling of the fire.
“That’s amazing,” Sybil said. “And absolutely divine!”
“Mmm, amazing …” Gigi groaned with pleasure. “Make me another one, Paul. Remember, I’m eating for three now.”
“Coming right up, sweetheart.”
“These are so good,” Anya added, licking a bit of marshmallow off her lip. “Who thinks of such things? What a wonderful idea.”
“We thought you might like them,” Lee said, beaming with pride.
They repeated the process several times until they were almost sick from all the sweetness. They settled back in the chairs and watched the logs burning, gazing at the clusters of tiny embers floating up in the sky.
“I’m really sorry to see you close this place down,” Gigi said after a long, contented sigh. “It’s so beautiful here.”
Joe looked at Kate then back at Gigi. “What are you talking about? We’re not closing.”
“But you must,” she insisted. “You must close it to the public so that all of us can live here permanently. We’ll have our very own kibbutz.”
Joe shook his head with a smile. “Gigi, you had me scared for a moment there.”
She ignored him. “Won’t it be such fun? Our children will all grow up together, and we’ll never lose touch. I’m quite certain that’s how it’s meant to be. All of us living here, growing old together. Like one big happy family.”
The conversation and laughter wafted around the bonfire for another hour before they began to say their goodnights—or in Anya and Danny’s case, their goodbyes. They’d be leaving early the next morning before the rest of them got up. They thanked everyone for a wonderful time in a flurry of handshakes and hugs. Promising to keep in touch, they headed to their cottage.
Anya felt the shift in her spirit as soon as they made their way along the path. Even if Gigi’s idea was nothing more than wishful thinking, she loved the idea. She and Danny could be happy here. She’d feel safe living here, surrounded by her friends and their families, living on this lovely slice of heaven.
“Penny for your thoughts?” Danny asked as he opened the door to their cottage.
“I’m afraid you’d be overpaying.”
“Never.”
“Some things never change, Danny McClain.”
“Darn right. And don’t you ever forget it.” He closed the door behind them and drew her into his arms, gently kissing her forehead.
Anya snuggled her head against his shoulder, tucked in that perfect place beneath his strong jaw. She was surprised when he spoke again, his voice graveled with emotion.
“I’m already missing you so much. I’m so afraid to let you go.”
“I’m not gone yet.”
“Yes, but you’ll be gone so long. I can feel it, Anya. And it scares me.”
He pulled back to face her. “These past few weeks, how many times have we talked about how important it is to be honest with each other? Well, if I’m being honest with you, then I have to admit how afraid I am that I’ll never see you again. I’ve tried to stop thinking about it, but I can’t help it.”
The tears beginning to pool in his eyes undid her. “Please, Danny. Don’t make this any harder than it has to be.”
“I don’t mean to make it harder, honey. I just need to know you’ll come back to me.” He lifted her chin and locked eyes with her. “Promise me.”
Her heart pounded as she struggled to answer. When she started to glance away, he gently nudged her chin so she couldn’t. “Say it.”
She closed her eyes long enough to steel her nerves. Then, meeting his eyes again, she nodded slowly. “I will.”
“No, say it. Promise me. If you won’t, I swear I’ll pick you up right this minute and carry you all the way back to Grand Central Station, and we’ll catch the first train back to Chicago.”
She searched his eyes, knowing he meant every word.
“I promise, Danny. I promise I will come home to you.”
He smiled, the sigh of relief puffing his cheeks. “Good. For a minute there, you had me worried.”
But even as he took both her hands in his and kissed them, and even as she fashioned a smile on her face, she wondered if she could keep her promise.
And prayed that she would.
22
Anya found a seat in the lounge area of the SS Olivia Gale. She settled in to read while waiting for dinner to be announced. Millie had loaned her some books for her travels, hoping they might help her pass the time. Anya had never been much of a reader, but realized that keeping her nose in a book might be the perfect deterrent to ward off any chatty passengers who might be inclined to approach her. She opened the gently worn copy of A Tree Grows in Brooklyn.
But even as her eyes stayed fixed on the first page, her mind wandered elsewhere.
It felt strange, the relative ease of this journey compared to the last time she sailed these waters. The Wisteria’s ten-day trip to America had been such a nightmare with raging seas, seasick mothers and children, and the loss of at least one war bride who jumped to her death in the bitterly cold waters of the Atlantic. Anya’s memories of that trip, just over three months ago, would forever be tainted by the stench of vomit, the ever-rocking ship, and the endless cries of so many miserable passengers.
Now, she could hardly tell the ship was moving as it cut through a calmer version of the same sea. Like the Wisteria, the Olivia Gale had been re-commissioned for war, then crisscrossed the Atlantic as it ferried thousands of war brides and children to their American husbands and fathers. More than likely, these halls and dining rooms and cabins had been packed from stem to stern when it arrived in port earlier in the week. But on return trips like this, the Olivia carried surprisingly few passengers. Anya assumed most of them were traveling on business of one sort or another, as few sailed for pleasure this soon after the war’s end.
A thin filament of guilt knotted her heart, having the small, neatly appointed cabin all to herself below deck. Still, she had to admit she appreciated the solitude it offered. There was much to think about; much to consider about the task before her, and such things were best pondered alone.
But even as her eyes stared unseeing on the pages of the book in her hands, her thoughts traveled back in time, not forward. The last bittersweet hours she’d spent with Danny had left her adrift with conflicting feelings.
After returning from the lakeside bonfire, they’d climbed between the soft sheets under a colorful quilt. She remembered their sweet intimacy and how it soothed her spirit with an unexpected sense of security. The burdens that had pricked her heart and worried her soul the last few weeks seemed far, far away as she lay resting in Danny’s arms. As if nothing could ever hurt them or come between them.
But sleep had eluded them both, despite the ever-present fatigue that consumed them. She assumed it was the dread of saying goodbye in the hours closing in on them, and did her best to leave it at that.
Then, before the sun gilded the horizon, Anya had scooted onto the front seat of the car between Joe and Danny, settling in for the ride back to New York.
Danny wrapped his arm around her shoulders. “Honey, don’t you love this station wagon? I was thinking we might look for one like this when we’re ready to buy a car.”
“It’s very nice, but terribly big for just the two of us.”
“They make them smaller,” Joe said. “This is an eight-seater, but you can buy the regular sedan size.”
“That would make more sense,” Anya said. “But I do like the wood paneling. I’ve never seen that on a vehicle before.”
“They’re called ‘woodies’ and pretty popular here in the States,” Joe added.
“Isn’t she a beaut?” Danny said, running his hand along the smooth dashboard.
“Yes, she is,” Anya said, smiling at the passion her husband voiced for such things.
“By the way, I heard on the radio this morning that the railway strike started yesterday,” Joe said as he merged onto the main road. “At four o’clock, thousands of workers walked right off the job.”
“I was afraid of that,” Danny grumbled.
“But how will you get back to Chicago, Danny?” she’d asked.
“If you ask me, it’s a sign that I’m supposed to be going with you.” He leaned his forehead against hers.
“Be serious,” she said, straightening. “You can’t miss any more classes. You have to get back.”
He’d reached for her hand and held it tight. “We’re not going to worry about that right now. I’ll put you on that ship, then I’ll consider all my options. I could take a bus, or if I have to, I can steal a plane and fly myself home. Or maybe I can hire that driver who picked us up at Grand Central Station the other night. Maybe he could drive me home.”
“Or pay me enough, and I’ll take you myself,” Joe teased. “Might be nice to take a road trip to the Windy City—”
A loud gong interrupted her thoughts, reminding her where she was and signaling the opening of the dining room. She joined the queue of passengers making their way into the large area, and once inside, found a small table near some windows overlooking the deck. Once seated, she returned her attention to her book, hoping the empty seats would remain that way.
Clearly, her ploy didn’t work as she noticed someone moving toward the seat across from her.
“Mag ik erbij komen zitten?” May I join you?
She started to answer, hoping to dissuade him, then realized he’d spoken in Dutch. She looked up, surprised to find a familiar face smiling down at her.
“Oh … hallo.” She couldn’t place him. Tall, with dark hair, kind green eyes, and such a familiar smile.
“It’s Anya, right?”
She stood as she wracked her brain. “I’m … yes, but … hello.” She shook her head in frustration. “I’m sorry, I know we’ve met but I don’t—”
“—remember my name. That’s all right, but for the record, this is the second time you’ve forgotten.”
“It is?”
“Yes, and in any other situation I might take it personally, but I shall forgive you if you’ll allow me to share your table.” He pointed to the chair across from her.
“Yes, yes, of course. Please,” she said, taking her seat again.
He leaned across with a knowing smile as he sat down. “I was only teasing. There’s nothing to forgive, though I’m quite sure the damage to my ego will take considerable healing, since I obviously made no impression whatsoever on either of the occasions when we met previously.”
“I’m trying, really I am,” she said, feeling like a complete imbecile. “But I give up. Just tell me before I lose my mind altogether.”
“Well, we can’t have that, now, can we?” He extended his hand across the table. “Anya, I’m Nathan. I worked with—”
“The Resistance! Yes, of course! Now I remember.” She shook his hand as the jumbled pieces of her memory fell into place. “You drove Wim and me back to his farm after … after we ran into a bit of trouble while shuttling some little ones to a safe house.”
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