by Anna Schmidt
In spite of everything that was going on in her career, Suzanne felt consumed by a melancholy that she could not explain or shake. She missed Theo terribly and was beginning to wonder if in fact she did love him—could trust in his love for her. She lived for the day when the election was finally decided and he could move to DC, for although he appeared to have doubts about being elected, she had none. Who in their right mind would not see that this kind and gentle and incredibly smart man was exactly the kind of elected official the country needed?
“Suzie!”
She roused herself at Edwin’s shout and pulled a pencil from her hair as she grabbed her notebook and headed for his office. “Coming.”
She couldn’t help but notice that these days as she walked through the newsroom her colleagues went on with their work, accepting her presence as normal and right. It was quite a change from just a year earlier when they had deliberately averted their eyes and when she had been all too aware of whispered conversations that seemed to end abruptly whenever she approached.
Now she walked with complete confidence through the newsroom to Edwin’s open door. “You called?”
“When was the last time you were in Oswego?”
“Just before the Fourth. Why?”
“So how are you keeping up with what’s going on there?”
“I still have contacts there, but really the story is here now.”
“Is that so?” He consulted a paper. “Then do you want to tell me about this Gestapo agent who escaped?”
“I wrote about that.”
“Yes, in your book. I run a newspaper, Suzie-Q, as in news printed at the time it happens.”
“I did the follow-up on St. John’s radio broadcast,” she said, feeling defensive. It wasn’t as if she could decide what stories Edwin would print. She swallowed her resentment. “What do you want me to do?”
“Get your buns up there and find out what’s going on. I’ve got people here who can cover anything that breaks over at State or Justice.”
“Interior is in charge now. Secretary Ickes just sent a letter to President Truman and—”
“I know that, and Congressman Dickstein is still pushing for Congress to act. We know all that. What we don’t know is what the residents of the fort are doing. Those poor souls are facing yet another New York winter. Go up there and do what you do so well—get me the human side of the story.” He picked up his phone and began dialing—his indication that this meeting was over.
Suzanne finished the story due that day then went home to pack. By now she knew the train schedule by heart. She had taken it often enough over the last year. And although she could certainly expense account a hotel room since she was making this trip on assignment from Edwin, she called Selma Velo.
“I’m not sure how long I’ll be there, Selma. It might be a week or so but certainly not a month.”
“Come on, honey. Stay an hour or a year. I really don’t care. My son got home a week ago, and there is not a thing else that matters.”
“Oh Selma, I am so happy for you. I’ll look forward to finally meeting him, and it is going to be so good to catch up.” That was exactly why Suzanne wanted to stay at the boardinghouse. In spite of her disagreements with Hilda, it was in that house that Suzanne knew she would get a bird’s-eye view of how the locals were feeling about the residents of the fort now that things continued to drag on months after the war had ended. “See you tonight,” Suzanne told Selma and hung up. She was surprised to realize that her spirits had lifted.
Theo! She suddenly realized that she needed to call and let him know of the change in plans. But before she could place the call, her phone rang.
“Hi, dollface.”
“The man escaped, Gordon. There’s not a lot I can do about that.”
“You always go on defense—is it just me or everyone?”
“Just you,” she replied sweetly.
“Well, I have information for you. This woman you’re looking for is alive.”
“And her children?”
“The whole kit and caboodle. Have dinner with me, and I’ll give you the details.”
“I have to go to Oswego tonight.” She glanced at her wristwatch. “Where are you? I can swing by your office or apartment. …”
“I’ll come to you. You’ll need a lift to the train station, right?”
As it turned out, Gordon had no details. He did not know where Marta and the children were—only that they had survived the war.
“But how can you know that and—”
“They turned up on a list of survivors in France. After that the trail ends.” He glanced at her as he navigated the streets of Washington. “Give me my due, Suze. I’m doing my best here.”
“I know. Thank you. It’s good news.”
“Good enough to prove that I regret what happened before? Good enough that you might consider starting again?”
“Gordon, we both know—”
“Hey, the war is over. It’s a new era. We know we make a formidable team.”
And that’s the difference, Suzanne realized. For you it’s all about the power of a career, while with Theo it’s all about love.
They had reached the station, and he turned to face her.
“I have to go, Gordon.”
“You’ll think about it—us?”
A redcap opened the door for her, and the interruption was enough that she did not have to answer. “Bye, Gordon. Thanks for everything.”
She boarded the train and stared out the window as the monuments of the capital disappeared and she headed back to the people and story that had saved her career.
CHAPTER 21
Oswego weather in November 1945 was far kinder than it had been the previous year. To everyone’s relief, by Election Day there had been only a slight dusting of snow and temperatures had remained mild. The residents at the fort waited anxiously to see whether or not the outcome of the elections might affect them. Ilse was especially anxious for news that Theo had won a seat in Congress. Even though Theo would not represent Oswego, most people at the fort felt as if he were one of their own. They had come to respect him during the months he had worked at the administration office and later with Joseph Smart’s advocacy group.
Suzanne had promised to bring the news as soon as she heard. She had come back to Oswego to find out more about Detlef Buch’s escape, although there was nothing new there. The man seemed to have simply disappeared, leaving in his wake heartache for Ellie and Paul as well as for Beth and Josef. Ilse understood that she had not caused this, but she still felt guilty. If she had not pressed the man to help in her search for Marta …
But then Suzanne had arrived, confirming the news that Marta and the children had survived. She had been so overcome with relief that she had clasped her arms around Suzanne and hugged her. Both women had cried.
As the days passed leading up to the election, Ilse and Suzanne spent a good deal of time together. They were walking along the lakeshore one day when she asked Suzanne, “What will you and Theo do if he loses the election?”
“But he won’t—he can’t.”
“Yes, Suzanne, he can, and if he does, he will have to face new decisions for his future.”
“He plans to farm.”
“A respectable profession, although I am not certain that it is the best choice for Theo. His heart does not seem called to such a solitary way of life.”
“Exactly.” Suzanne’s voice rose with excitement. “He has so much to offer. I mean think about what he did while he was here. People really listened to him when he spoke, and he had wonderful ideas, and—”
“Yes, Theo has the gift of helping others more clearly understand the way things are. My late husband also had that gift. Theo reminds me of Franz a great deal. I think that is why I am so very fond of him and Liesl adores him.”
“But if he thinks his father needs him on the farm …”
“Paul and Ellie want what is best for their children. They know that Th
eo loves you. They know that your work and life have been in the setting of the city. What they don’t know is whether or not you love Theo.”
Ilse saw that she had shocked Suzanne with her directness, but in one of her letters, Ellie had spoken at length about the time it had taken for her and Paul to come to terms with Beth’s love for a German doctor whose father worked for the Nazi government. Now Ellie had transferred that worry to Theo. “He is so very much in love with this young woman,” she wrote. “But he seems uncertain of her feelings for him.”
So Ilse had seen her opportunity and taken it. It was evident that the question was one Suzanne had wrestled with. What Ilse could not understand was why the struggle if the girl loved Theo. She waited for a response.
“I care for Theo a great deal,” Suzanne said softly. “If I were capable of loving anyone …” Her voice trailed off.
“Yet you are unable to choose between your feelings for him and your work?”
Suzanne sighed and then smiled tightly. “Hey, perhaps I don’t need to choose. After all, everything is a moot point until we know how the election goes, right?”
But was it? If Suzanne loved Theo the way he loved her—the way that Ilse and Franz had loved each other—weren’t all obstacles surmountable? “I have to check on Liesl,” she said. But as she walked back up the hill to the fort, she thought, I do not understand you at all.
It was over. The election was lost. Theo felt bad for the disappointment he’d caused Jim Sawyer and the others who had worked so hard to support him. He had let them down. But Jim was pragmatic in defeat.
“Hey, there’s another election in two years. Gives us time to regroup and tweak the message. You ran a good race, Theo. And more to the point, the voters got to know you. You’ll be ready next time.”
“I appreciate your confidence in me, Jim, but there won’t be a next time for me.”
“Never say never, son,” Jim said as he squeezed Theo’s shoulder and crossed the street to where he’d parked his truck. He waved as he drove away, and Theo marveled at his calm acceptance of defeat.
He went to the pay phone in the back of the drugstore and gave the operator the number for the boardinghouse. Suzanne answered immediately, and the operator told him to deposit his coins for the three-minute call. He figured he wouldn’t need more than a minute.
“The other candidate won,” he said as soon as Suzanne came back on the line.
After a moment of silence, he heard her let out her breath. “Oh, Theo, I am so sorry,” she finally said.
“Yeah, well, we knew it was a long shot. How long will you be in Oswego?”
“A few more days. Why?”
“I thought I might come out there.”
“Come to Washington instead. I have a friend you can stay with, and I have some vacation coming. I can take time off—show you the sights.” Her laugh was forced, and he understood that she had never truly allowed herself to consider what might happen for them if he lost.
“Are you sure?”
“Please come,” she said.
“Okay. I’ll check schedules and get back to you.” The operator interrupted, asking for more money. “You’ll tell Ilse?”
“Yes.”
He fumbled in his pocket for more coins, but the line went dead before he could deposit them.
That night at supper with his parents, his mother raised the question of his plans for the future.
“I thought I’d go out to Washington and see Suzanne—she’s got a friend I can stay with. Might as well see what I missed not getting elected and all.” He made a joke of it, anxious to reassure them that he was fine with the election’s outcome.
His parents exchanged a look, and he was pretty sure that his mom gave his dad an encouraging nod.
Dad cleared his throat and took a sip of his coffee. “Your mother and I were thinking. Maybe you should look into that overseas opportunity with the Friends that was mentioned at the last meeting for business. They need people, and you know after the first war the Friends did a lot to help displaced people.”
The American Friends Service Committee—AFSC for short—had been organized to provide opportunities for conscientious objectors to help rebuild war-torn Europe after the first war. Now with Hitler’s reign of terror ended, they were gearing up to once again send relief workers and other aid to Europe to help in the recovery from war.
Theo recalled a letter from his sister during the time she was in Munich. She had written that often when she was stopped for identification and the soldiers had realized she was Quaker they had instantly changed their attitude toward her. In one case a man told her that without the relief the Quakers had offered his family after the first war, he did not know how they would have survived.
“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 …”