Safe Haven (42 page)

“From what I’ve been reading,” Theo’s father continued, “this time the relief effort is going to be on a much larger scale. For one thing they’re looking for people who can help farmers get their farms back into production. You know agriculture, and you know politics. Sounds to me like you’ve got some tools that might be of use.”

“I thought the idea was for me to help out on this farm.”

“Look, Son, I think I’ve got a few good years left in me, and truth be told, you’ve pretty much shown your mom and me that farming is not exactly your first love. It’s a hard life, Theo, so if you’re going to do it, you need to do it because you love it. Can you honestly say that’s the case?”

“No, but going off to Europe seems like a pretty big leap from staying here on the farm. Besides, Suzanne—”

Another look passed between his parents, and his father suddenly seemed inordinately interested in cutting his pork chop.

“Suzanne is a lovely young woman,” Mom said.

“But?” He felt his defenses rise as he always did whenever Suzanne’s name came up. Ever since her July visit, he had noticed that his mother’s attitude toward her had cooled.

“But you need to think about what will make you happy.”

“She makes me happy.”

“Yes, we can see that.” His mother glanced at his dad, who was slowly chewing his meat and avoiding eye contact. Mom sighed and continued. “Suzanne strikes your father and me as someone who is still trying to find herself. Our worry is that if you plan your life around hers—”

“Mom, I’m not sixteen, and neither is Suzanne.”

“I know that, dear, but—”

“One of the reasons I’m going to see her is so we can talk about the future—whether or not that will be
our
future is pretty much up to her at this point. I love her and want to spend my life with her.”

Dad finally looked at Mom and grinned. “He sounds like me.”

“It’s not the same at all,” she protested, her cheeks growing pink.

“Your mom was one tough cookie, Son. I had to work plenty hard to get her to settle down.” He reached over and patted her hand. “Thankfully it’s all worked out just fine.”

“For us,” his mom said. “Theo, do not put your life on hold for this woman—for any woman. If it is meant for the two of you to be together, you will be.” She looked at her husband, seeking his agreement, and he squeezed her hand.

Theo envied the way his parents looked at each other. How many times had he imagined Suzanne looking at him with such certainty? “I’ll look into the thing with the Friends,” he promised.

“Good. After all, Suzanne is so fortunate that she has chosen writing as her life’s work. A writer can work anywhere, and wouldn’t it be wonderful if the two of you could be in Europe, close to Beth until this whole mess with their visas can be cleared up and—”

“I’ll look into it, Mom. But first I’m going to Washington.”

The residents of the fort followed their normal routine the day after Election Day. They had breakfast in the dining hall, got the children off to school, and went to their assigned jobs. This had been their daily schedule for nearly sixteen long months. This had become normal life, and frankly many of them were beginning to wonder if this might be life for some time to come.

After Ilse had made sure Liesl was on her way to the bus stop, she headed for the recreation hall, where she and Gisele were sorting through the boxes of donated clothing that had accumulated and gone unclaimed for some time. They were looking for pieces they could turn into costumes for the musical production that now carried the title
The Golden Cage
.

“Here she comes,” Gisele said, nodding toward a window that overlooked the parade ground. Suzanne was trudging across the grass. “She does not look happy.”

They waited for her to open the door.

“He did not win,” she said as if she still could not believe it.

“Then clearly there is another plan for his life,” Ilse said as she went back to sorting. “And possibly for yours as well,” she added quietly.

A week later, Theo stepped off the train in Washington’s Union Station and saw Suzanne running to meet him. He grinned and dropped his suitcase to open his arms to her. It had been months since they had been together, but he remembered every detail of her—the scent of her perfume, the feel of her hair against his cheek, the way she fit into his arms.

“Welcome to DC,” she said as she rose onto her toes to kiss him. He tightened his hold on her, lifting her off the ground as he returned the kiss and deepened it.

“Now that’s what I call a welcome,” he said, his voice husky.

“It’s that Southern hospitality thing.” She ran her gloved fingers over his features as if she needed to be sure he was actually there.

Around them other travelers were sidling by, some giving them annoyed looks while others were smiling. Theo reluctantly broke their embrace and picked up his suitcase. “Where to?”

“I thought we’d go to my apartment and have lunch, okay? You can leave your stuff there for now, and we can go for a walk. Do you believe this day? I mean it’s already mid-November and …”

She was nervous. He took hold of her hand. “Whatever you say.”

Her apartment was compact but cozy, and he got a real kick out of watching her in the tiny galley kitchen. She had made barley soup and corn-bread muffins and a salad. The table that obviously doubled as her desk was set for two.

“Something’s missing,” he said when they sat down.

She was already half out of her chair. “Salt and pepper,” she murmured.

He caught her wrist. “I don’t need either. I was thinking that this is the first time you and I have shared a meal—except in a restaurant or at the farm—that either Hilda or Hugh or both weren’t there.”

She laughed, and he saw her relax for the first time since she’d met him at the train. “Hugh has moved on, much to Hilda’s distress, but if you like, I can do a pretty good imitation at least of what I think she might say.”

“Pretty sure I can muddle through without that.” He took a spoonful of the soup and then another—and another. “This is delicious.”

“Well, you don’t have to sound so surprised. I
can
cook.”

“Good to know.” He grinned and held out his bowl for seconds.

After lunch they took his suitcase to her friend’s apartment. “Make yourself at home,” the young man said. “I’m off to the Pacific on assignment. Now that both wars are over, somebody needs to tell that story.”

“Would you ever want to do that?” Theo asked after he had unpacked and changed into more casual clothes. They were walking toward the Smithsonian Museum—a landmark that Suzanne had insisted he needed to see. “Go to faraway places and write whatever story was happening there?”

“It might be fun, at least for a while. But I think it would be exhausting hopping back and forth.”

As they approached the museum, he paused and glanced toward the Capitol. “That’s where you would have been,” Suzanne said. “Where you
should
have been.”

He held the door for her. “Apparently not. Apparently there are other plans for me.”

They wandered through the exhibits, occasionally pausing to read more about the diorama before them or to peer more closely at something in a display case. Theo felt restless and anxious. He had not really come to Washington to tour museums and monuments. He had come to find out once and for all if Suzanne could see a future for them. “Let’s get out of here,” he said and knew by the startled look she gave him that he had spoken more gruffly than he thought.

Outside they were greeted by a light, misty shower accompanied by dropping temperatures and a light wind. Theo turned up the collar of his jacket. Suzanne raised the umbrella she had brought along and handed it to him. “Where to?”

“Can we walk to the Lincoln Memorial?”

“Sure.”

The mood between them had definitely shifted, and it was all his fault. “Look, Suzanne, I think we both know that we have some decisions to make. The war is over, and so is the election. Soon some sort of decision will be made regarding Ilse and the others. We have no control over that, and in many ways that is no longer a part of our lives.”

“Not exactly. I still have the job of reporting that ending.” She sounded annoyed, and he realized that they were trudging along rather than strolling the way they had earlier.

“And that’s the real issue, isn’t it? Your work?” He was really messing this up. Even to himself he sounded as if he were deliberately trying to pick a fight with her.

“My work is who I am,” she shot back.

“No. I won’t accept that. It is a part of who you are—a key part to be sure. But you are so much more than that, Suzanne. You allow your dedication to your work to overshadow the rest of you. It has become your safety net—your cocoon against having to directly face your own life.”

“Oh, so now you are a psychiatrist? Spare me your armchair analysis, Theo.”

He stopped at the foot of the steps leading up to the statue of Lincoln. “I love you. Does that mean anything to you?”

“Why do you love me, Theo? It seems to me that at the moment you highly disapprove of me, so how can you call that love?” She stomped up the steps and took shelter under the stone ceiling that covered Lincoln’s statue. She folded her arms tightly across her chest and sat down cross-legged on the cold marble floor looking up at the great man’s likeness.

Theo followed her and closed the umbrella, shaking it out as he did. They had the place to themselves. He walked to one wall where the words to the Gettysburg Address had been inscribed. Behind him she continued to sit, her knees now drawn up to her chest with her chin resting on them.

“Theo?”

“I’m here.”

“I do love you.”

He wasn’t completely sure he had heard her because she spoke so softly. She could just as easily have said “I don’t love you.”

He squatted next to her. “Again please?”

“I do love you,” she said, and he placed his finger on her lips to stop the
but
that he felt coming. She gently brushed his hand aside. “So what are we going to do?”

His relief that she was not setting conditions was so huge that he lowered himself fully to the floor so that their shoulders touched. “What do you want to do? I mean we could get married.”

“That’s an option.” She said the words as if they were discussing where to go for dinner. “Of course, we’d have to think through some logistics—your work on the farm and my work.”

“What if there was another option?”

“I’m listening.”

He told her about the AFSC program to help displaced people all over Europe. “Think about it, Suzanne. We could continue doing what we began with the folks at the fort. Europe is pretty compact, so we might even be able to find someplace to live near Beth and Josef and work from there and—”

Now she was the one to stop him with a finger on his lips. “Slow down. What about my job at the newspaper? What about the book? What about your parents and the farm?”

“Details,” he said with a shrug. He wasn’t sure, but he thought maybe Lincoln was smiling down at them. “Let’s make it work.”

Suzanne had never felt so completely happy and at peace with her life. Every minute she spent with Theo only confirmed her belief that this was a man she could trust—a man who would love her unconditionally and whose love did not ask any more of her than that she give him her unconditional love in return. And oh, how easy he made that.