Remembering You (28 page)

She smiled at him, but Dennis shook his head and turned away.

With one look from Dennis’s face, the excitement over finding Angeline deflated like a balloon that had lost its air.
How can he be upset? Doesn’t he see how amazing this is that they’re able to reconnect?

Martha led them to the bookstore near the front gates. They walked through the store through a doorway in the back. Inside was a small office, and as they entered, Grandpa Jack turned to Angeline.

“Do you have it?” he asked.

Angeline nodded, understanding. Then she opened up her purse and pulled out a small box. “It’s too small for me to wear now, but I’ve always kept it.” She opened the box, and there was the necklace Grandpa Jack had told Ava about. It was just as Ava remembered he’d said—a small pearl and a little silver bird.

“My aunt Sabine told me the story. She was the one who raised me in the States after the war.”

“And the couple at the house?” Grandpa Jack sat in the office chair.

“Strangers. We were from a village near Bastogne. Before we left, our whole block was destroyed and my father was killed. I remember walking around in the dark and cold with my mother and hearing all the loud noises and the flashes of lights. I know now that they were big weapons and that there was a huge battle, but at the time I didn’t know what to think. My mother told me I was going to be okay, that God was watching over me.”

“She said that?” Ava smiled.

“Yes, my mother had a strong faith in God. That was her—the woman in that room who had died.”

“Your mother?” A sob erupted from Grandpa Jack’s lips. Trembling hands covered his face. “I am so sorry. I didn’t mean to kill her. I shot into the room thinking there were Germans inside.”

“You? No.” Angeline kneeled before Grandpa Jack. “It was not you.” She pulled his hands from his face and took them between hers. “Before you got there, the Germans came in. They were angry. One of them wanted to take me. My mother refused, and he shot us both.”

The color drained from Grandpa Jack’s face, and his eyes were wide. “It wasn’t my bullets?”

“No.” Angeline shook her head. “I know this for a fact.”

“Grandpa!” Ava hurried to him. “After all this time, you are innocent. You didn’t do it.”

He lowered his gaze. “Of this, Ava. But I’m far from innocent.”

Ava didn’t know what to say. The woman again embraced her grandfather. “Thank you. I’m here now because of you.” But even with the woman’s words, his shoulders did not soften.

The woman fingered the necklace in her hands, and they listened as the cheers outside died down and a man’s voice could be heard over the sound system, giving a speech in German.

Grandpa Jack lowered his head. “I’m so sorry. Maybe if we had gotten there sooner.” His lower lip trembled.

Angeline took his hand between hers. “I have faith. I know I will see her again. It was a miracle I was saved. God sent you to save me. We shouldn’t question His ways.” The woman stroked Grandpa Jack’s hands as he no doubt had stroked hers those many, many years ago.

Ava leaned forward in her seat. “And then what happened? After the ambulance took you away?”

The woman covered her mouth with her hand, as if trying to control her emotions. She lowered it and continued. “I—I remember waking up in some type of tent hospital. I wanted my mother and father, but they were gone. I cried for them even though I knew this. A kind doctor cared for me. Then they sent me to another hospital with more wounded soldiers, or at least I think that’s what happened. I was so young; it’s hard for me to remember.” She looked into Grandpa Jack’s eyes. “I do remember you, though. I remember your face as you carried me.”

“You speak really good English. I can tell you weren’t raised in Europe,” Ava said.

“Oh no. Our first stop was France. I remember being taken to a hospital with other children, and the administration there contacted my aunt.”

The woman placed a hand over her heart and closed her eyes. She took in a deep breath, and her forehead bunched, as if her mind was replaying a painful memory.

The woman’s eyes opened, but instead of looking into Grandpa Jack’s face, she studied his hands. “There were so many changes. I lost my home, my family, my country, and my language. My aunt, you see, lived in San Diego, California. Unbeknownst to me, my mother had sewn my aunt’s address in my coat.” The woman sighed. “I wonder how Mother knew to do that. We traveled by ship when I was well enough. I was raised with cousins and knew the love of a family.” A smile brightened her face. “But even though so much was lost…my life was saved. Thank you.”

Grandpa Jack nodded and then wiped his tear-filled eyes with the back of his hand.

“I’ve had a good life, Mr. Andrews. I love my husband and our three sons. My husband, David, would have been here, but he’s been ill. It was a quick trip. I found out about you—about this memorial service—and five hours later I was on a plane. I’m honored to meet you.”

Grandpa Jack opened his arms for another embrace. “I won’t forget this,” he managed to say. “As long as I live, I won’t forget this.”

Even though Ava wasn’t happy with the way Clark had handled things, she was awed that this had happened. She also wondered why Jill hadn’t called her. Jill was good at many things, but keeping a secret wasn’t one of them. Ava wished she had known; then she could have schooled Clark on how to handle things. She could have written a better script for how this played out.

Angeline and Grandpa Jack talked for nearly an hour, sharing about their families and reliving the events that had led up to that day when God brought them into each other’s lives. Then Martha returned and informed them that the ceremony was over and that there was media waiting outside to talk to them.

Ava hadn’t expected there to be more media, and she looked to Grandpa Jack to see his reaction. He nodded and seemed calmer than he had been when he’d been on the stage. He rose and stretched his arms out to Angeline.

“I live in Northern California,” he told her. “It would be wonderful if Ava and I could travel down to see you some time.” He pulled her into a hug and held on.

“I’d like that, Mr. Andrews.” She pulled back and then placed a kiss on his cheek.

“You can call me Jack.”

“Okay.” She nodded. “All these years I called you my guardian angel. I’m thankful to finally know your name, Jack.”

“Are the other guys out there already?” Grandpa turned to Martha and straightened, like the old soldier he was, ready to report to duty.

“Actually…” Martha paused. “The media is just interested in talking to you, sir—and Angeline, of course.”

The words didn’t sink in until they walked out to a sea of cameras and reporters. Ava scanned the crowd, and although she saw some of the other veterans and their families, she didn’t see Grand-Paul or Dennis.

“Mr. Andrews, Mr. Andrews, can you please tell us what it was like to finally meet Angeline after all these years?” one reporter called with a thick German accent.

Ava took her grandfather’s hand. She looked at him and was surprised when he jutted out his chin and answered.

“It’s nothing that I ever imagined possible. I’m thankful for my granddaughter’s curious nature. I’m thankful to have a new friend in Angeline.” He turned to the woman. “I think I’ll be able to sleep well tonight. Better than I have in sixty years, now that I know the little girl I’ve thought about for so many years—” His voice caught in his throat. “Now that I know Angeline is safe.”

He acted so bold, so confident. Ava’s chest swelled with pride.

The media continued asking questions, and her grandpa and Angeline answered them the best they could—about the war, their lives after the war, and their new friendship.

After a while, her grandpa’s speech slowed. He was growing weary. “I’m sorry. No more questions,” she said to the sea of reporters.

“Just one more?” It was Clark’s voice.

Ava turned to him, and he winked at her. Next to him stood Rick, with a big smile on his face. He’d always wanted to do on-site videography and reporting—and here he was.

“Okay, just one more,” she conceded.

“Mr. Andrews,” Clark said, “you’ve said a few times to these reporters that you’re no hero. You said that you only did what anyone else would have done in that situation. Personally, I do feel that you’re a hero, sir, but I do have to wonder if you question your own heroism because of other reasons. Mr. Andrews, can you tell me about Chenogne? Can you tell us about your part in the lives lost there?”

A gasp escaped Ava’s lips, and her grandfather slumped beside her. She reached for him and grabbed him, holding him up. Angeline grabbed him from the other side.

“Who told you that? Did Jill?” Ava’s mind felt like mush. Surely Jill wouldn’t do that. It made no sense. Nothing made sense. All she knew is that she needed to get her grandfather out of this chaos.

They needed quiet. They needed space. Dark clouds descended on every bright spot the day had offered.

Ava gripped her grandfather’s arm tighter.

“Hold on to me, Grandpa.”

He obediently slipped his hand around her arm. More voices and more questions sounded around her, but Ava ignored them. She stretched out her hand, motioning for the people crowding them to step to either side.

The air seemed heavier than normal, and thick, as if she was still breathing in the dusty air from the oven room. Her grandfather’s steps were small, and the gravel on the ground in the parade area beyond the bookstore made it hard for him to get his balance.

Thankfully, the reporters parted, allowing them to make their way out of the gates.

Even as they walked away from Angeline, away from the camp and toward the car, Ava wondered what she should do. She needed to find Dennis. She needed to get her grandfather back to the hotel. She needed to apologize.

She wrapped her arm around him, holding her grandfather up, and they walked down the sloped hillside to the parking lot.

“Grandpa, I’m so sorry. I never meant for this to happen. I had no idea—”

“Ava, it’s not your fault. Anyone who took the time to look up our unit would know about Chenogne.”

Ava nodded, but she knew that wasn’t the truth. Clark knew about Chenogne because she’d mentioned it to Jill. Ava wondered if Rick had pursued Jill in order to get the story he wanted. She wouldn’t put it past him.

Ava bit her lip, and then her shoulders relaxed just slightly when she saw Dennis and Grand-Paul waiting ahead.

“Are you ready to head back?” Dennis unlocked the door with a hard edge to his voice. “I think we’ve seen enough.” He looked at her, shooting darts into her eyes. His jaw was tight, his hand balled into a fist on the top of the car.

“Yes.” Ava knew they’d just seen what had happened. She wished she could rewind and stop that last question. If she could change anything about this trip, that would be it.

“That’s pretty amazing, Jackson, meeting up with Angeline like that,” Grand-Paul commented, feigning cheerfulness.

“Not something I’d imagine in a thousand years,” Grandpa Jack said again, his voice shaking.

Dennis said nothing. He just drove in stony silence.

* * * * *

At the hotel in Linz, Grandpa Jack and Grand-Paul stood at the doorway to the hotel, but they didn’t go in.

“We’re heading across the street,” Grand-Paul explained. “We’re meeting the other guys for dinner.”

“Can I meet you later, Grandpa?” Ava asked. “I’m really not hungry.”

“Of course.” Grandpa Jack patted her hand. “You should get some rest. It was hard work taking care of me today.” Grandpa Jack gave her a tired smile, and the smile just made her feel worse.

“I’m with Ava,” Dennis said. “I don’t really think I could eat right now, but I might be over later.”

She could tell he was trying to keep his tone even, but his words jerked as if only thin threads held the angry ones inside. Dennis placed his hand on the door to the hotel and pushed, striding inside without saying a word to her.

The old guys headed across the street, and as soon as Ava noticed they’d made it to the front door of the restaurant, she walked into the hotel and to the stairs that would take her to her room.

At the stairs, which swept like a wide arch into the lobby, Dennis waited. He was looking at a photograph of a young boy with his dog on the wall. Ava hurried to move past him—before she had to explain.

“Ava?”

She paused on the first step.

She didn’t turn around, didn’t look at him. She could tell from the tone of his voice that he wasn’t happy. Other people moved around the lobby, but she ignored them all.

“I can’t believe you did that,” Dennis said, speaking to the back of her head.

She slowly turned. “You can’t believe I enlisted my team back home to find this girl—this woman—so that my grandfather could see her before he dies? Not a day went by that he didn’t think about her.”

“You didn’t have to do it like that. You exploited your grandfather by bringing the national media into this. He would have been content enough just seeing her.”

Anger bubbled inside Ava.

Dennis pinched the bridge of his nose, looking weary, confused. “You turned the ceremony into a circus. When did this day stop being about our grandfathers? When did this become about
you
?” He lowered his hand and released a heavy sigh.
“
I suppose nothing has changed. I should have known. It’s always been this way.”

His blue eyes appeared darker as he looked at her, void of the light that had been there the last few days, and she could see he was no longer talking about the cameras. The events today had apparently aroused the bitterness nestled deep inside him, as if the media’s advances were a stick poking a wasp’s nest, stirring up what was already there.

“Excuse me?” Ava gripped the railing to the stairs leading to the second story. The black iron felt cold under her grip.

“You heard me. It’s always been this way.”

“I heard you, but I don’t understand. What do you mean
always
?” She jutted out her chin.

“You know what I’m talking about. That summer—it was the best of my life. I had everything figured out. I was going to spend my life with you. I—” Dennis paused. “I already had the ring.”