"What's new with you?"
Jack smiled.
"I thought you'd never ask."
Susan brightened.
"Have you heard from a publisher?"
"I've heard from several people."
"Who?"
"Do you really want to know?"
"Yes! I want to know," Susan said.
"Tom Benson of Benson Press called Friday. He wants my book."
"That's wonderful."
"That's not all," Jack said.
"There's more?"
Jack nodded.
"Benson wants to move quickly. He wants to publish in December and start a book tour in January," Jack said. He sighed. "He offered me a five-figure advance."
Susan beamed.
"I'm so proud of you."
"I couldn't have done it without you."
"That's not true," Susan said. "All I did was strike your acronyms."
"You did more than that."
Susan laughed.
"You're right. I did."
Susan was tempted to demand back pay just to get Jack's reaction. She made a mental note to contact Benson Press in 2016. Benson had paid Jack more for a nonfiction book in 1939 than any publisher had paid her for a romance novel in the twenty-first century.
"I'm glad we agree," Jack said.
"So who else called you recently?" Susan asked.
Jack grinned.
"Think of a high-ranking official."
"Can't you just tell me?"
"No."
"I don't like guessing games."
"You'll like this one," Jack said. "Think of someone in the chain of command."
"I don't know. Was it the Secretary of War?"
"No. Try again."
Susan sighed and shook her head.
"You're testing my patience."
"Just guess."
"All right. All right," Susan said. "I'll guess, just this once, that it was the Secretary of the Navy. I know you know him. Did he call you this week?"
Jack nodded.
"He did. He called me this morning."
"That was nice."
Jack smiled.
"He called right after his boss did."
Susan's eyes grew wide.
"You're joking."
Jack laughed.
"I'm not. The president called me at ten thirty."
Susan rested her chin on her folded hands.
"Now I am impressed."
"I thought you would be," Jack said.
"What on earth did he want?"
"I'll tell you in a minute."
Jack paused as the waiter approached the table and took two orders. The admiral resumed the conversation after Susan requested beef bourguignon and he ordered his ratatouille.
"So why did the president call you?" Susan asked.
"He wants me to be a part of a public relations task force."
"What will it do?"
Jack took a breath.
"It will try to generate public support for several initiatives."
"I'm not sure I follow," Susan said.
Jack paused to look around the room. He continued the conversation when he was apparently convinced that eavesdroppers weren't among the dozens enjoying fatty French cuisine.
"The president is preparing the nation for war," Jack said in a hushed tone.
"What does that mean?"
"It means a lot of things," Jack said. "Roosevelt wants to bring back the draft. He wants to lend ships to Britain, strengthen our treaty commitments, and double the size of our navy. That's why he wants me on the team."
"It appears the First Lady put in a good word for you."
"It appears so."
"When does this task force begin?" Susan asked.
"We meet in October in D.C."
"You're going to be a big wheel, Jack Hicks. I can tell right now," Susan said. "You finally have all the things you've wanted."
Jack sighed.
"You're partly right," Jack said. "I have three books now. I have a job and a purpose. I have many of the things I want, but I don't have everything. I don't have what I want most."
Jack slipped out of his chair and dropped to a knee. He pulled a velvet box from a jacket pocket, opened the box, and presented it to the woman in the red silk dress.
"Oh, Jack," Susan said.
"I know I'm rushing things," Jack said. "That's why I don't need an answer now. I just want you to know where I stand before you do something crazy, like move back to Chicago."
Susan gazed at Jack, wiped her teary eyes, and then looked around the room. She noticed that the kneeling admiral had already gained an audience.
She took the box, pulled out the ring, and gave it a close inspection. She saw more than a diamond solitaire that resembled a ring Elizabeth Campbell had once left on a picnic table. She saw the hopes and dreams of a lonely man making one last grab at happiness.
"It's beautiful," Susan said. "I like it."
"You should," Jack said. "You pointed it out at a store in Asbury Park."
Susan laughed.
"I remember."
Jack fixed his gaze.
"I love you, Susan. I want to marry you and build a life with you."
Susan sighed.
"I know."
"Take all the time you need," Jack said.
"I will."
"I mean it. Don't rush. I'll wait as long as I have to."
"I know," Susan said. She leaned forward and kissed him softly. "I know."
CHAPTER 80: AMANDA
Monday, September 4, 1939
Amanda settled into her plush theater seat, gazed at the spectacle on the big screen, and tried to escape. She wanted to let her mind drift to Oz or perhaps to a place where young women worried only about wicked witches and flying monkeys and not Nazi boyfriends, world wars, or the kind of problems that only a talkative time traveler could bring on herself.
She had imagined a different movie experience. Once upon a time, in March, to be exact, she had imagined watching The Wizard of Oz with her two best friends. She had imagined watching MGM's Dorothy Gale with her Dorothy Gale, having a few laughs at her expense, and then snuggling up to a young man she could take home to mother.
Amanda had sought a memorable evening in the company of friends but had instead found a forgettable afternoon in the company of strangers. She had come alone to the Palmer Square Playhouse to get away from the regret, guilt, and sadness that had haunted her for days.
Amanda looked again at the screen and wondered how she could have ever been so naïve. She wondered how she could have missed signs that even Susan and Elizabeth had picked up. Then she remembered that love was blind. It was Helen Keller, hooded, in a dark room. It was a condition that rendered people incapable of seeing more than they wanted to see.
She took comfort in at least a few things. She had a wonderful mother and grandmother who had smothered her with hugs after she had returned to the rental with Kurt's letters in hand. Each had withheld judgment. Both had assuaged her fears. They had done their best to put a happy face on a situation that seemed to grow more dire by the day.
Amanda did not doubt that she had at least made it possible for the Nazis to change history. She had provided them with information that was potentially priceless. She was less certain that they would actually do something with it.
She knew that Adolf Hitler had been notorious for ignoring sound advice from his more rational subordinates. Perhaps he would do the same if and when Kurt Schmidt was able to tell him what he had learned from a babbling fool from Princeton, New Jersey.
Amanda didn't care. She was reasonably sure the Nazis wouldn't come after her in the next few days or do something that might make a bad month even worse. She would travel to Los Angeles, step through Geoffrey Bell's magic tunnel, and hopefully return to a United States that still flew the Stars and Stripes and not a black swastika.
Amanda looked forward to leaving. She looked forward to starting her new job, recon
necting with old friends, and enjoying all of the creature comforts of the digital age.
She did not look forward to leaving Erich, Ella, and Lizzie, who had become a second family, or Dot, who had become a de facto sister, but she knew that leaving them was the price she had to pay to move on with her life. In the grand scheme of things, it was a small price.
Amanda did not envy the people she would leave behind. She could only imagine the struggles they would face in the coming six years. She wondered whether young men like Roy Maine, Ted Fiske, and Bill Green would survive the war. She had learned from Dot in July that Ted had joined the Marines and Bill had volunteered for the Navy. Both men had answered the call of duty even before their country had called for them.
Amanda did not envy her mother either. She felt great empathy for a woman who had less than a week to make the most important decision of her life.
Susan had told Elizabeth and Amanda about her big date when the family had gathered for breakfast Sunday morning. She had described Jack's proposal, shown them the ring, and updated them on the admiral's plans as an author and a member of a presidential task force. Then she had asked for their advice on a matter that would surely affect them all.
Elizabeth had encouraged Susan to accept the proposal. She said she didn't mind Susan bringing Jack into the family so long as she brought him into the family in 2016. She did not even want to consider the idea of remaining in the thirties.
Amanda had offered the same blessing with the same condition. She didn't care how her mother found happiness so long as she found it in the twenty-first century. She said she would welcome Jack Hicks as a stepfather even if it required a difficult emotional transition.
Amanda returned to the movie. She smiled when she saw Dorothy, the Scarecrow, the Tin Man, and the Cowardly Lion walk arm in arm down the Yellow Brick Road.
She smiled again when she scanned the audience and saw men, women, and children staring at the Technicolor screen like it was a magic portal to another world. She couldn't believe that the world had once been so naïve, innocent, and trusting. She wished there was a way she could capture the spirit in the theater and take it with her to the more cynical age that waited.
Amanda gave her personal troubles another moment of thought and then surrendered to her surroundings. She dug into her buttered popcorn, sipped her soda, and finished watching and enjoying one of the most beloved movies of all time.
She exited the dark auditorium an hour later, fought her way through a crowded lobby, and stepped into a bright September afternoon. She embraced the daylight and a new mood.
Amanda still felt a little blue about making mistakes, losing Kurt, and disappointing others, but she no longer felt hopeless or directionless. She had new resolve and new purpose.
She thought about that resolve and purpose as she left Palmer Square and started toward Mercer Street, the rental, and her family. It was time, she thought, to stop thinking about the past and start thinking about the future. She picked up her pace and smiled.
CHAPTER 81: SUSAN
Friday, September 8, 1939
"You're a time traveler?" Jack asked.
Susan nodded.
"We all are. We're from the future. We walked into a magic tunnel in 2016 and walked out in 1938. A professor from Los Angeles, a man who discovered a way to travel through time, sent us here. We will return to California and the future next week."
Jack sat up on the campus bench he shared with Susan, turned to his right, and looked at his friend like she had just declared the world to be flat. He smiled and shook his head.
"It's not April Fool's Day, Susan."
Susan smiled sadly.
"I'm not fooling."
Jack's smile faded.
"I can think of many reasons why I shouldn't believe you. Give me one why I should."
"All right."
Susan opened her purse, dug through crumpled receipts, hard candies, and cosmetics, and pulled out a plastic Illinois driver's license. She handed it to her companion.
"What's this?" Jack asked.
"It's my driver's license," Susan said. "Note the birth date."
"You were born in 1967?"
Susan nodded.
"Technically speaking, I'm not even a twinkle in my father's eye."
"You're here though."
"I am," Susan said. "So are my mothers."
"Mothers?"
"You've met both. One is Elizabeth Campbell. The other is Lizzie Wagner. They are the same person, separated by seventy-eight years."
"You can't be serious," Jack said.
"I'm completely serious. We came to Princeton last fall so that Elizabeth could meet Erich, Ella, and Lizzie and be a part of their lives for several months."
"What if I told you I was still skeptical?" Jack asked. "What if I didn't accept this license of yours as proof?"
"Then I would show you some other things."
Susan reached into her purse and retrieved a 1977 Eisenhower dollar, a 2000 Kennedy half-dollar, and a 2016 Roosevelt dime. She gave each to the admiral.
"These are American coins," Jack said.
"They are," Susan replied. "Do you see anything interesting?"
Jack examined the coins and closed his eyes.
"The dates are all from the future."
"Do you notice anything else?"
"Roosevelt is on the dime," Jack said. "We don't put people on coins unless …"
"Unless they are dead. I know."
"This is fantastic."
"Tell me about it," Susan said.
Jack inspected the coins again.
"The man on the dollar also looks familiar. He looks like a young Army officer I met once in the Philippines."
"He'll be a general soon," Susan said. "His name is Dwight Eisenhower."
"What about the man on the fifty-cent piece?"
"You don't know him. He's not important yet."
"He will be though," Jack said. "Is that what you're saying?"
Susan took Jack's hand.
"That's what I'm saying. Each of these men is or will be very important."
Jack smiled.
"I don't know what to believe. My head tells me you're pulling my leg and that you had each of these items custom made for that purpose," Jack said. "My heart tells me something else. It tells me that this is not a joke and that you are doing this for a reason."
Susan looked at Jack with moist eyes.
"I am."
"Please elaborate."
"I didn't intend to bring my license or the coins. The professor asked us not to bring any items from the future, but I brought them anyway. I knew I might need them someday to prove to someone that I was who I said I was," Susan said. "As it turns out, they served another purpose."
"I don't understand."
"Then let me explain. I did two things before deciding whether to accept your proposal. The first was that I told Elizabeth and Amanda what you had done and asked them for their blessing."
"Did they give it?" Jack asked.
"They did. They both like you, Jack. They insisted only that you come with us. They do not want to remain in 1939."
"I think I see where you're going."
"There's more to it," Susan said.
"OK."
"The second thing I did was draw up a list. I wrote down the reasons I should marry you and the reasons I shouldn't. As much as I love you, I wanted to say yes for the right reasons."
"Did the cons outweigh the pros?"
"No. It was just the opposite. It wasn't even close," Susan said. "I found about a dozen reasons to say yes and only two to say no."
"Then why are you crying?" Jack asked.
"I'm crying because the reasons to say no are the most important reasons of all."
Jack sighed.
"What are they?"
Susan paused to gather her strength.
"The first pertains to the coins. When I dug the coins out of my purse this morning, I noticed something abo
ut them. Each of the men pictured on the coins played an important role in the war that just broke out in Europe, a war that will eventually involve the United States."
"What does that have to do with me?" Jack asked.
Susan took a breath.
"It has everything to do with you. Like the men on the coins, you are going to play an important role in defeating the countries that want to crush our liberty and freedom."
"You're overstating things."
"No. I'm not. If anything, I'm understating them. You have a book that is going to sway public opinion at a time it needs to be swayed. You have been asked by President Roosevelt himself to serve our country in an important capacity. I'm sure you'll be asked again."
"But . . . "
"Let me finish," Susan said. She collected herself. "I can't in good conscience keep you from your destiny. Even if I were able to persuade you to join us, I could never feel good knowing that my selfishness led to the deaths of others or even, God forbid, America's defeat."
Susan turned away as the floodgates opened. She did not want to see the hurt on Jack's face any more than she wanted him to see her anguish.
"Do I even get a say in this?" Jack asked.
"Of course you do."
"Then let me tell you what I think. I think I'm the best qualified to determine whether or not my services are indispensable," Jack said. "There are many military men capable of serving this country effectively in a time of war, but there is only one, to my knowledge, who is capable of making you happy. I love you, Susan, and want to marry you. If that means giving up all that I have here and following you to the future, then I'm willing to do it. I don't want to lose you."
Susan looked at Jack and tried to hold his gaze. She scolded herself for even thinking she could walk away from this man and not leave a mess behind.
"I know you don't," Susan said.
"Then give me a chance."
"I can't."
"Why?" Jack asked. "We can be happy together."
Susan wiped her eyes and shook her head.
"We can't," Susan said. "We can't because I'm not ready to marry again."
"I don't understand."
Susan tightened her hold on Jack's hand.
"I know. I don't expect you to understand either. Just believe me when I tell you that it has nothing to do with you. I love you, Jack. You're a kind, decent, honorable man who deserves the best. I am flattered that you love me. I'm honored that you want to marry me and build a life with me, but I can't accept your proposal. I'm sorry."
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