Mercer Street (American Journey Book 2)

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Mercer Street (American Journey Book 2) Page 20

by John A. Heldt


  She didn't care. Five months after walking through a magic tunnel and stepping into another world, she was having a good time, a really good time, and she didn't want that time to end.

  "Are you enjoying yourself, Miss Peterson?" Kurt asked.

  "I'm enjoying myself, Mr. Schmidt," Amanda said as they stood near the intersection of Nassau and Moore streets. "I haven't had this much fun on Valentine's Day since I was twelve."

  "I find that hard to believe."

  "Why? I haven't had many boyfriends."

  "That surprises me," Kurt said. "You're a beautiful woman."

  Amanda smiled.

  "I'm a difficult one. I tend to take a dim view of young men who are more interested in taking me to bed than in taking me to a movie."

  "Why do you think I'm different?" Kurt asked.

  "I don't," Amanda said. She laughed. "I'm just willing to set aside my biases until I figure out what makes you tick."

  "I see. So you think I have a deep, dark past, after all."

  "No. I just think there's more to you than meets the eye, a lot more, and I want to discover what it is," Amanda said. She took his hand. "Come walk with me. You can tell me all your deep, dark secrets on the way to my house."

  "OK."

  Amanda led Kurt onto a campus filled with couples that walked, talked, kissed, and cuddled under a starry sky. When they entered a stretch near the art museum and finally had space to themselves, she opened up and asked questions that had been on her mind all night.

  "Tell me about your childhood," Amanda said. "What was it like growing up the son of a diplomat? What is it like being a twin?"

  "You don't want to know much, do you?" Kurt asked.

  Amanda grinned.

  "I want to know what's important."

  "All right. I'll tell you," Kurt said. "I had a great childhood. I had two parents who loved and nurtured me, a brother for a best friend, and more good times and opportunities than I can possibly count. I was truly fortunate."

  "Where did you live?"

  "We lived in a row house in Georgetown. My parents still do."

  "I thought diplomats lived in embassies," Amanda said.

  "Some do. We didn't," Kurt said. "When my father brought us to this country, he knew we might stay a while, so he did everything he could to make us comfortable and happy. He wanted us to feel like Americans."

  "You admire him, don't you?"

  "I do. He is the best kind of role model: someone who leads by example."

  "Are you close to your mother?" Amanda asked.

  Kurt nodded.

  "I'm closer to her than I am to my father."

  "Really?"

  "You seem surprised," Kurt said.

  "I guess I am. I just assumed that most guys were closer to their fathers."

  "I'm not. Don't get me wrong. I love my father and respect him. He is someone I can turn to for advice on many things, but he is not the parent I write to every week. He is not the person I go to when I have problems of a more personal nature."

  "So what you're really trying to say is you're a mama's boy."

  Kurt chuckled.

  "I'm a mama's boy."

  Amanda tightened her hold on Kurt's hand. She laughed to herself as she pondered the irony of a Nazi hater falling for the son of a German diplomat.

  "Thirties Germans and the time travelers who love them. Next … on Geraldo!"

  "There's nothing wrong with that," Amanda said. "Men who love and admire their mothers tend to love and admire their wives. I read that somewhere."

  "You sound like Dr. Freud," Kurt said.

  Amanda laughed but did not respond. She did not want to say she had read about the link between mothers and wives in People magazine. So she walked with Kurt in blissful silence. A moment later, she raised a new topic.

  "You said a minute ago that Karl was your best friend growing up. Is that still true?" Amanda asked. "Are you still close?"

  Amanda winced when she saw Kurt frown. She could see she had stepped in something.

  "No," Kurt said. "We haven't been close since Karl returned to Germany. I haven't spoken to him in two years. I haven't corresponded with him since May 6, 1937."

  "You remember the day?"

  "I do. It was the day Karl notified us by telegram that he had joined the Nazi party."

  "I'm sorry," Amanda said.

  Kurt smiled grimly.

  "That wasn't even the worst news of the day."

  "What do you mean?" Amanda asked. "Tell me."

  Kurt sighed.

  "Shortly after I read Karl's message, I packed a bag and drove up here. My father had asked me to pick up my cousin Ingrid when she arrived from Europe. So I hopped in our car and drove five hours to Lakehurst. That's a little south of here."

  "I know where it is. Were you supposed to meet her train?"

  "No," Kurt said. "I was supposed to meet her airship."

  Amanda gulped.

  "You don't mean?"

  Kurt nodded.

  "My cousin, Ingrid Bauer, a promising journalist, was one of the thirty-five people who died on the Hindenburg. She had come here, officially, to cover the zeppelin's first voyage to the United States. She had come here, unofficially, to defect. She wanted nothing to do with the Nazis after they started censoring her magazine and her work."

  "Were you there when it happened?" Amanda asked.

  "I had a front-row seat," Kurt said.

  Amanda closed her eyes as images of the disaster ran through her mind. She could picture a burning dirigible falling to the ground. She could not picture one falling to the ground with a relative inside. She felt great sympathy for her new friend.

  "I can't imagine how difficult that was."

  "It was even harder the next day," Kurt said. "I had to identify Ingrid's body. My parents could not bring themselves to do it."

  Amanda looked at him with soft eyes.

  "You needn't say more. I think you've satisfied my curiosity about your family. We can talk about something else."

  "Maybe we should," Kurt said.

  "What do you want to talk about?" Amanda asked.

  "How about you? You haven't told me much about yourself."

  Amanda smiled.

  "That's because I know Dot has told you a few things."

  "She has," Kurt said. "She told me that your father died last year and that you took some time off after he died to travel around the country. She said you settled in Princeton because your grandmother grew up here and wanted to revisit her youth."

  "She's right."

  "Dot also told me that you plan to leave this summer."

  "That's not quite true," Amanda said. "We haven't made any definite plans."

  "So there's hope for me?"

  Amanda laughed.

  "There's always hope for you."

  Kurt smiled but did not comment. He instead squeezed Amanda's hand and led her westward through the snow-covered campus until they reached Mercer Street. He spoke again when they crossed the street and began the final stretch to the rental house.

  "I do have a question for you that I think only you can answer," Kurt said.

  "What's that?" Amanda asked.

  "Have you told your mother and grandmother about me?"

  The question hit Amanda like a bolt from the blue. She considered a few creative lies before settling on the truth.

  "I haven't."

  "Why?" Kurt asked.

  "You know why," Amanda said.

  "You don't think they would approve of me?"

  Amanda sighed.

  "I don't know. I just know I need a little more time before I tell them."

  Kurt nodded.

  "Then take the time. I don't mind clandestine meetings at restaurants, if you don't."

  Amanda stopped, turned to face Kurt, and threw her arms over his shoulders. She kissed him gently and then kissed him hard.

  "You're a charmer, Mr. Schmidt."

  "I try."

  Amanda smil
ed.

  "I should probably walk the last block alone. I don't want to give my family or the neighbors something to talk about by kissing a German at my door."

  Kurt put his hand to her face and nodded.

  "All right," Kurt said. He kissed her softly. "Good night, Amanda."

  "Good night, Kurt."

  Amanda left her blond-haired suitor and walked the rest of the way to the rental house. She checked for lights in the windows, saw none, and entered the residence as quietly as a burglar.

  Amanda went straight to her room, changed into her pajamas, and slipped into a bed that felt surprisingly warm and inviting on a cold winter's night. She closed her eyes as she thought of the boy, their date, and the glorious months ahead.

  The trip of a lifetime had suddenly become more than a trip to the past. It had become a journey with options. The question now was what to do with them.

  CHAPTER 40: SUSAN

  Wednesday, February 15, 1939

  Susan poured some coffee in her mother's mug and then some in her own. She rarely drank more than two cups after nine o'clock, but she made an exception today. She wanted to be sharp for a conversation she had dreaded for days.

  "Did you say she was awake?" Susan asked.

  Elizabeth nodded.

  "She's taking a bath. I heard splashing in the tub when I went up to get her clothes a little while ago. She'll be down soon."

  Susan smiled sadly at Elizabeth, who sat across from her at the dining table, and considered how best to proceed. She hated situations like this. She had hated them since Amanda had begun dating six years ago at the age of sixteen.

  Susan pondered two matters she could no longer ignore. The first was her daughter's growing attachment to a boy she would eventually have to leave. The second was her relationship with the son of a man who had Adolf Hitler's ear.

  She could relate to the first matter. For weeks she too had struggled with what to do with a man she liked but could not keep. She reminded herself every day that she was a time traveler on vacation and not a single woman who could follow her heart.

  Susan could not relate to the second matter. She knew that even if she accidentally told Jack Hicks something he wasn't supposed to know, she wouldn't alter history. Jack was an American, an admiral, and a patriot. He could be trusted with anything.

  She started to say something to her mother but stopped when she heard the stairs squeak. She looked up just as Amanda walked through the kitchen and entered the dining area.

  "Good morning," Susan said.

  Amanda smiled wearily.

  "Good morning."

  "Do you want some coffee? I just made a pot."

  Amanda nodded.

  "I can't stay long though. I'm meeting Dot for breakfast."

  "That's all right," Susan said. "We won't be long."

  Susan poured a cup of coffee as Amanda pulled out a chair and sat down. She watched with interest as a bewildered expression formed on her daughter's face.

  "What do you mean by you 'won't be long'?" Amanda asked. "Do you have something to say?"

  Susan sighed.

  "We have something to ask you. We have several things, in fact."

  "OK. I'm here," Amanda said. She sipped her coffee. "Ask away."

  "All right. I will," Susan said. "I guess the first thing I'd like to know is where you went last night. I know you weren't with Dot because she stopped by at seven to say hi."

  Amanda stared at Susan.

  "Why do you need to know?"

  "I need to know because I'm your mother."

  "Haven't we had this conversation a few hundred times?" Amanda asked.

  "We have."

  "I'm not in high school, Mom. I don't have a curfew."

  "No. You don't," Susan said. "You don't have a curfew, but you do have an obligation to tell us where you've been going at night and who you've been seeing."

  Amanda lowered her coffee cup.

  "I've been seeing a boy named Kurt. He's a research assistant at the Nassau Institute, the one you've seen on stage setting up the lectures. Is that a problem?"

  Susan paused before responding. She wanted answers from her daughter, but knew she wouldn't get them by plunging headfirst into a heated exchange.

  "You needn't get defensive."

  "I feel like I do," Amanda said. "I feel like I'm being ambushed."

  "Don't be dramatic, dear," Elizabeth said. "We just want some answers."

  Amanda stared at her grandmother.

  "So you're in on this too?"

  "I care about your well-being. I'm just like your mother."

  "Well, I'm fine, Grandma. I've never felt better."

  Susan glared at Elizabeth and then gazed at Amanda.

  "Everyone calm down. There's no need to get contentious," Susan said. "We should be able to have a family discussion without getting on each other's nerves."

  Amanda turned her head.

  "What do you want to know, Mom? I'm running late."

  "I have two concerns, Amanda. The first is that I fear you are forming an attachment that you might find difficult to break when we have to leave."

  "Isn't that my problem?"

  "No. It's our problem," Susan said. "We're in this together."

  "You're right," Amanda said. "We're in this together. So shall I ask you whether you'll be able to break your attachment to a certain retired admiral? You spend more time with Jack Hicks than I do with Kurt."

  "It's not the same thing," Susan said.

  "Why? Why is it not the same?"

  "I'm not sneaking off with Jack at odd hours of the day, for one thing."

  "So? You like him," Amanda said. "You like him a lot. Don't you think you should end your friendship before it turns into something else?"

  "No. I don't. I can manage Jack."

  "Are you sure? You didn't manage Dad very well."

  Susan bristled.

  "What's that supposed to mean?"

  "It means you're in no position to lecture me," Amanda said. "You have no more experience in situations like this than I do. You have no more experience with men."

  Susan took a deep breath.

  "That's not true," Susan said. "I have a lot of experience. I know what it's like to date someone and think you have things under control. I've been in your shoes many times."

  "Really? When? You've dated one guy, besides Dad, since George Bush was president – the first George Bush. I'd say that makes you a newbie in male management."

  Susan frowned. She began to regret starting this conversation.

  "Look," Susan said. "I'm just concerned, that's all."

  "I'm fine, Mom. I'll be fine. If I leave Princeton this summer with a broken heart, then I'll just have to find a way to cope. I have before."

  Susan smiled tentatively and put a hand on Amanda's arm.

  "I know you have."

  Amanda visibly relaxed.

  "What's your other concern?" Amanda asked.

  Susan sighed and brought her hands together as she braced herself for more fireworks. She knew that the second matter was far more explosive than the first. She proceeded cautiously.

  "I'm just a bit concerned that you might say something to this young man that we will all regret," Susan said. "Jack told me that Kurt is more than just a research assistant at the Institute. He said he's the son of the German military attaché."

  "So that's what this is about?" Amanda asked. "You're afraid I'm going to spill state secrets?"

  "I'm afraid you might do what human beings have done for centuries and invest your trust in someone you really don't know. You're a time traveler, Amanda. You have knowledge of the future, knowledge that people from this time would kill to obtain."

  Amanda tensed up.

  "I'm not stupid, Mother. I haven't told Kurt anything that would destroy the universe. I haven't even told him much about you. If you're really that concerned about one of us altering the course of history, then perhaps you should talk to Grandma."


  "What's that supposed to mean?" Elizabeth asked.

  "I'll tell you what it means," Amanda said. "It means you're interacting with your own family. Have you thought about the harm you could do if you dropped Lizzie on her head? Think about Back to the Future, Grams. You could make a big mess real quick."

  "That won't happen."

  "You don't know that. You can't predict the impact you'll have on others any better than I can. You're playing with fire, Grandma. You're playing with fire big time."

  "At least I'm not playing with a German," Elizabeth said.

  Amanda scooted back in her chair.

  "I think I've heard enough."

  "Stay put," Susan said.

  "No!" Amanda said. "I won't until she apologizes."

  Elizabeth stared at Amanda.

  "I will not apologize for distrusting one of them."

  "One of whom?" Amanda asked. "The Germans? Do you even know Kurt Schmidt? Do you know how he feels about his government or what's taking place in his country?"

  "I know enough," Elizabeth said.

  "You know nothing."

  "I know his people forced my family from Austria."

  "Kurt didn't force anyone from anywhere," Amanda said.

  "He's a German! Hitler is a German."

  Amanda glared at Elizabeth as she got up from her chair.

  "You're wrong, Grandma. Hitler is not a German," Amanda said softly. She leaned forward and got in Elizabeth's face. "Hitler is an Austrian. He was born in Austria. Just. Like. You."

  Amanda stepped away from the table.

  "Please don't go," Susan said.

  "I'm sorry, Mom. I'm out of here."

  CHAPTER 41: ELIZABETH

  Thursday, February 23, 1939

  Elizabeth walked beside the baby in the carriage and waved to the child when the carriage came to a stop. She had done so three times on the stroll down Mercer Street and had drawn a smile from the infant on each occasion.

  "She's in a good mood," Elizabeth said.

  "She usually is when you are present," Ella replied. "I mean it when I say that you bring out the best in her. You have a gift."

  "I wouldn't go that far. I just know how to make her smile."

  Elizabeth frowned as she considered the irony. She could bring a smile to one girl's face with the wave of a hand but couldn't bring a smile to another's with even the profoundest of apologies. She had thought of little else since her falling out with Amanda on February 15. She had felt little else except excruciating pain.

 

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