The People's Peace: Kathleen and David

Note from the Author

I’m about to start writing this book and there are a couple of things I want to point out to the reader before I, or eventually they, get started. This is a continuation of Kathleen and David’s story. I am going to do my best to make it a standalone novel, but I still suggest you check out Still We Hope to see if you want to start at the very beginning (a very good place to start). I’m not sure it would be fair to call this the much awaited sequel, but my two beta readers are looking forward to it.

For the parts of the book where David is reading the newspapers, I actually read the newspapers. I looked online for headlines and articles that reported on the end of the war and the Nuremberg trial. Some of the information that was printed back then contained inaccuracies, I knew that when I read them. The idea that there were No survivors in Hiroshima came directly from a headline I saw. Since this was the only information available to the characters, I used those facts in the novel, even if they would later be corrected for a more accurate historical record.

I took some small liberties in this book with the historical facts. Tin Town was real, but I’m not certain it would have been ready for occupation in January 1946. I couldn’t find any evidence that RPI installed Quonset huts for married student housing, but they were used at the University of Wisconsin so I’m sure they would have been adequate, though not much more, for central New York winters. I had an admittedly overly romantic notion of setting up house in one of these so I just couldn’t bear to write the family living anywhere else. I also struggled to find any information on how one would submit a story to a periodical magazine in 1947 so I made it up. I hope you can forgive my intentional discrepancies and enjoy the story.

Happy reading, Amanda

CHAPTER 1

W ait here, David said .

No, I want to go with you, Samuel said.

Fine.

David grabbed the boy’s hand. Kathleen glanced down at the suitcases David had left at her feet, then at Daniel asleep in her arms.

David walked as fast as he could towards the newsstand. Kathleen couldn’t help but wince as she watched him. He didn’t need the cane anymore, but he still limped. It got worse when he tried to walk fast or was tired. She knew it frustrated him to no end. Just the other day Samuel had begged his father to race him.

Your mother will race you, David had muttered, snatching Daniel out of her arms.

Kathleen had obliged, running down the block and back. David stood staring at the sky.

David, Kathleen said, touching his shirt sleeve when the contest was over. Samuel had won at the last second. Kathleen had slowed down to make sure that he did.

She knew better than to ask David if he was alright. He was not alright. America had bombed a city in Japan called Hiroshima. It was a new kind of bomb, an atomic bomb. They said it was like twenty thousand tons of TNT. Kathleen didn’t really know what that meant. Then they said there were no survivors. That Kathleen understood, but she couldn’t imagine it. She didn’t dare ask her husband questions. Once she could have asked David anything, but that was before the war, before he left and came back. Thank God he had come back, but the war had never left him, not really. The limp. The nightmares.

The night they heard the news of the bomb that changed the world she found him standing at the door to the basement. Down there, tucked away in the storage room, was the liquor. David hadn’t touched a drop in, Kathleen tried to remember how long it had been. A year? Daniel was six months old now and David had given up alcohol before the baby was born. However long it had been, Kathleen did not want to go back to the days and nights when David had stayed up alone, trying to drink the war away.

The next day, the day after Hiroshima, the day after she had found him thinking about going down to get the whiskey, had been the day Samuel wanted to race. David had been so upset. They already had their train tickets and Kathleen had gone on with her preparations for the trip, not knowing what else to do. It was so hard to know what to bring with them. They could only manage so much luggage. David’s mother promised to ship them whatever clothes were needed for the children.

Mrs. Rosenbaum had insisted on giving Kathleen the largest valises. Together Kathleen and her mother-in-law sorted clothes in Samuel’s bedroom. Out of habit Kathleen had deferred to all of David’s mother’s suggestions. When they were finished, they just stood there.

Well, Mrs. Rosenbaum said.

Thank you for your help, Kathleen said.

I will miss the children terribly, but I suppose it’s for the best.

It is, Kathleen said. She desperately hoped that upstate David would return to her, to them, completely. Going somewhere entirely new would surely have to help. We will miss you as well, Kathleen added, surprising even herself that she meant it.

Her mother-in-law had given her a curt nod in return.

Look, Samuel said now as he came back to Kathleen, running as fast as his four-year-old legs would take him. The newsman gave me a penny.

Let me see, Kathleen said, reaching out for it.

It’s mine, Samuel said. Not Daniel’s. Mine.

Oh, Samuel, you’re being ridiculous. A baby can’t have a penny. He would try to eat it.

He’s dumb.

Samuel, Kathleen said.

She was torn between needing to discipline him for his rudeness and trying to remember when he had started teething. He must have been around six months old. Kathleen figured that must be why Daniel was putting everything in his mouth lately.

Kathleen, David said, touching her shoulder.

She turned and looked at the newspaper he was holding out to her. Then she looked at his face. She should have known. Despite the announcements on the radio, the celebrations in the streets, her husband wouldn’t believe it, not until he saw it in black and white. Not until he could hold it in his hands. She reached out and traced the giant S with her finger.

They surrendered, she said. Japan surrendered. It’s—

Over, David said.

It’s over.

It really is.

She could see it in his eyes. The light that had been missing ever since he had come back from England. Just the smallest flicker, but it was there. There was so much she wanted to say to him, but they were in the middle of Grand Central Station and they had a train to catch. He picked up the smallest of the three suitcases and handed it to her so she wouldn’t have to bend over while holding the baby. Then he picked up the rest of the luggage.

Stay right with us, Samuel, he said.

I want Mama to carry me.

Samuel, David said sternly.

We don’t want to miss the train, Kathleen added.

Espress, Samuel said.

That’s right, Samuel, David said, softening his tone. The Empire State Express. Now come along.

The platform was filled with people waiting to board.

This train goes all the way to Detroit, Samuel, David said.

Detroit? Samuel said, wrinkling his nose.

That’s in Michigan.

What’s in Michigan?

Snow. Lots of snow. It’s very cold in Michigan. We’re not going to Michigan though it’s—

Excuse me, I’m sorry.

The man had a uniform and a hat. He was attempting to squeeze between David and Kathleen not realizing the luggage was blocking the way.

I’m so sorry, he said, as he stepped over the suitcases. Say, young man, are you going on my train?

I don’t know.

"Well, where are you going?’

Alvany, Samuel said, then looked at David. Right?

Yes, David said, smiling, Albany.

The man looked at David, then at the newspapers David had tucked under his arm.

Do you know I’ve been working on this train since it’s very first trip? Samuel’s eyes widened. Yes, it’s true, the man continued. December seventh, nineteen forty-one. The inaugural voyage.

The mention of the date, that date, made Kathleen’s heart sink. She looked at her husband and could see the darkness was back.

But now it’s over, she said.

It is, the man said. He smiled, but Kathleen thought she saw a tinge of sadness in his face as well. I’ll see you on board. Ma’am. Sir.

The sir was directed at Samuel who positively beamed. Kathleen suddenly realized that Samuel didn’t know. They had told him about the surrender and he had cheered and clapped when the adults did, but he didn’t know. He didn’t remember that his father had been away. Kathleen and David could try to explain it and surely they would teach it in history, once Samuel was old enough to go to school. But he would never understand, not really. Kathleen hadn’t, not until the attack on Pearl Harbor, not until America was at war and David had enlisted and shipped out, first to Africa, then to Italy. She had heard about the Great War since she was as young as Samuel. She had seen the fear the war in Europe had wrought in all the adults around her. Samuel didn’t know. He didn’t understand. He couldn’t.

That was a good thing, Kathleen decided, as they made their way onto the car. She looked down at Daniel, still asleep in her arms. Samuel wouldn’t remember any of this. Perhaps, one day soon, when David was away at his classes she would ask her son. Did he remember the day they stood on Fifth Avenue and saw the great General Eisenhower in the parade after VE-Day? If Samuel remembered anything about that day, Kathleen was sure it would be the motorcycles. He had been so excited. Daniel on the other hand, would remember nothing. Daniel would only know peace, always.

CHAPTER 2

D avid, Kathleen said .

Mm, David said.

Do you want something to eat?

Huh?

Look, Samuel all but shouted and Kathleen shushed him.

David looked up. Samuel was up on his knees, his face pressed against the window.

Has he been like that the whole time? David asked his wife.

Truck, Samuel said.

There’s a lot to see, she said.

David looked out the window. All he saw was trees. He turned away and took the half of a sandwich Kathleen offered him. He took a bite before carefully folding his newspaper and reaching for the next one.

Before he opened it he checked his watch. They had to catch a bus from the train station. The train had been moving at a steady clip once they had gotten outside of New York City, but David didn’t have any idea how far they had actually traveled. He read the papers until the train started to slow down. They were right on time, perhaps even a couple of minutes early.

Where do we go now? Kathleen said as they got off the train.

I don’t know, David said.

You don’t know?

I’ve never been here before—

I know that, she said. Come on, Samuel, let’s go sit over there, while your father finds out where we need to go.

I don’t want to sit down, Samuel said.

You do as I say, Samuel.

No, Samuel screamed and stomped his foot for good measure.

Kathleen reached for him. He shrieked and took off running down the platform. Kathleen chased after him. David took a step after them and stopped. He couldn’t leave the luggage. He watched as Kathleen caught up with Samuel and grabbed his arm. Daniel started wailing and David winced. Kathleen dragged Samuel back and ordered him to sit down. Samuel climbed onto the bench.

I’ll find out where the bus is, and come back, David said.

What? Kathleen said.

Daniel was screaming now and clawing at Kathleen’s face. She grabbed one of his hands. He yanked at her hair with the other.

Ow!

David would have sworn she had tears forming in her eyes.

Where do we need to go, David?

Why don’t you go and find out? he snapped.

She blinked, once, and a tear trickled down the side of her cheek. Kathleen looked down at Samuel and David followed her gaze. Samuel was as happy as a clam now, kicking his feet up and down as hard as he could. Thank goodness there was no one else sitting on the bench.

Can you just go, David? Kathleen said. I’m so tired.

Sorry, he muttered and turned away.

He went into the station and stopped, looking around until he saw the ticket window. Then he stalked towards it. He shouldn’t have snapped at her. He couldn’t stand there and watch Samuel. If the boy got it in his head to run away again who knew what could happen?

David bought two tickets for Troy. The next bus left in twenty minutes. He walked back to Kathleen and the boys excited to tell them the good news. If they had missed that bus they would have been waiting for hours.

I have to change him, Kathleen said, before David could say anything. Samuel, stop that, she added.

Samuel was holding his nose. Kathleen batted his hand down then stood up and grabbed a suitcase. David trailed them to the lady’s room. Kathleen took Samuel in as well.

Once they were done they found the bus and boarded. Samuel climbed up into the seat behind the driver and once again got up on his knees to look out the window.

What’s that? Samuel cried, as they crossed a bridge.

The river, David told him.

Strange, David thought, as he looked over Samuel’s head out the window. There were no boats. The Hudson and the East River were always bustling, down in the city that is. All summer it seemed that there were ships coming in every day, bringing the troops home. They came on planes as well. Samuel loved planes, even more than cars and trucks. David had thought about taking the boy out to the airport to watch the planes land. He knew his son would love it. But David really had no desire to sit by the side of an airfield for the better part of an afternoon.

What brings you folks to Troy? the bus driver asked.

Kathleen answered before David could.

My husband’s to start classes here. she said.

David glanced across the aisle at her. He could see the baby had fallen asleep.

Oh, at RPI? That’s it up on the hill there. David looked where the man pointed. The large brick buildings with the green roofs stood out in the bright sunshine. That’s where you’re going? The station’s downtown, you know?

I—I don’t know, Kathleen said.

We are staying downtown, David said.

He was relieved he knew that much. He reached in his pocket and pulled out the letter from the man who had agreed to rent them two rooms. When the bus stopped at the station he showed it to the driver.

Not far at all, he was told. Of course, with the luggage and the little ones...

We’ll be fine, thank you, David said.

He hadn’t brought the cane with him. He had convinced himself he didn’t need it anymore and most days he didn’t. But this morning, carrying the two suitcases had been a lot harder than he had anticipated. He was tired and his leg always hurt more when he was tired. There was nothing to be done, he told himself. He could get another cane here, or write his mother to send it to him, but right now, he had to manage without one. Heck, he couldn’t even use a cane and carry two suitcases.

The walk took far longer than it should have and David knew he was to blame for it. When they had left the station, Samuel protested briefly about having to walk the rest of the way. Kathleen promised him he would get to eat once they got there. The thought of food was apparently very motivational, if the pace that Samuel walked at was any indication. David could barely keep up.

This is it, he said to Kathleen, who obviously already knew that as she had stopped at the bottom of the stoop.

Shall we then? Kathleen said.

He wasn’t sure why she asked, she was already heading up the stairs. David could walk up and down stairs normally now, if he held onto the bannister. With the two suitcases he was reduced to stepping up with his good leg, then pulling up his bad one.

Can I ring it? Samuel said, when David was barely halfway up.

Just wait for your father, Kathleen said.

Then I can ring it?

Yes.

Not Daniel, me?

Yes, Samuel, didn’t I just say that?

David let out a huge sigh of relief when he reached the top. He couldn’t wait to sit down. The trip had taken more out of him than he could have ever anticipated. He had walked more than a hundred miles across Sicily alone. How had he managed that, yet a passage by train and bus exhausted him?

Now? Samuel asked, or more accurately demanded, and David put his mind to the task at hand, namely that he, and his family, make a good impression on their hosts.

Yes, Samuel, now, he told his son.

He patted Kathleen on the shoulder and she swung the baby, who was awake again, from one hip to the other.

What? Kathleen said, but then the door opened.

Mrs. Feuer? David said, smiling at the woman.

She shook her head.

Downstairs, she snapped and shut the door in his face.

David turned around. The street was filled with brownstones. They could have been in Manhattan, but they weren’t. He had climbed the stairs for nothing. He looked up and down the block. Just like at home the buildings had a door tucked under the stairs.

David, Kathleen said.

It’s fine, he said.

Surely she was at least as tired as he was. The baby wasn’t sleeping through the night and in desperation they had moved the crib into the last bedroom at David’s mother’s house. Kathleen slept in there with Daniel, though David wasn’t sure how much sleeping she was actually doing.

We just have to go downstairs, he said, as though it was nothing. I’ll take one bag at a time.

Oh, David, Kathleen said. Come on, Samuel.

She started down the stairs, scolding Samuel to hold on. David left one bag on the top step and started down, grasping the railing tightly. Kathleen and Samuel raced ahead of him and he heard her order Samuel to stay put and don’t you dare touch the doorbell.

David smiled at his son as he set the case down.

Stay here like Mama said, he told Samuel. I have to get the last suitcase.

As it turned out, he didn’t. Kathleen was already back on the sidewalk with it.

Thank you, David said.

She smiled at him, weakly and squeezed his upper arm.

It’s been a long day for all of us, Kathleen said.

David looked at Samuel and back at Kathleen. She nodded.

Go ahead and ring the bell, Samuel, David said.

Samuel pressed the button, then pressed it again, and again.

Samuel! Kathleen said, and smacked his hand away.

The door opened.

Mrs. Feuer? David said.

He had all his hopes pinned on her answer.

CHAPTER 3

H ello, the woman said .

Kathleen looked at her husband. David snatched his hat off his head.

Ma’am, he said. I’m David, David Rosenbaum. Your husband said that we could stay here. I’m to go to school at RPI.

Yes, of course. I’m Isabel Feuer.

My wife, Kathleen.

Ma’am, Kathleen said. She didn’t know what else to say. What a thing to show up on a stranger’s doorstep ready to move in and live with them. She remembered the families David’s father had taken in before the war. Some of them hadn’t known any English at all. Kathleen supposed she was lucky. Pleased to meet you, ma’am, she added.

Kathleen? Mrs. Feuer said with a frown.

My sons, Samuel—Samuel, shake hands, Samuel promptly stuck his hand out. Mrs. Feuer glanced down at him. David continued, Daniel, the baby.

I see. Well, come in, Mrs. Feuer said.

They all piled into the hall. There was a small table with a mirror in a wooden frame above it. Just like in David’s mother’s hallway, Kathleen thought. That’s where the resemblance ended. The Rosenbaums’ home was huge and Kathleen realized that in the five years since becoming David’s wife she had forgotten that. She had been amazed by the house the first time she had seen it as a child, accompanying her mother to work.

You said your name was Kathleen? Mrs. Feuer said.

Yes, ma’am, Kathleen said.

Well, Mrs. Feuer said.

I have to go, Samuel said.

Kathleen looked at him, but she didn’t need to. The urgency was in his tone. Kathleen all but panicked. If Mrs. Feuer didn’t like Kathleen’s name, not that that was the problem, obviously, what would she think of them if Samuel had an accident in her hallway two minutes after they arrived?

Oh dear, Kathleen said. If I could just take him.

Right this way, Mrs. Feuer said.

She opened a door to reveal a bathroom and Kathleen shoved Samuel into it, then shut the door behind him. At home he rarely bothered to close the door and Kathleen realized she should have been much stricter with him about that.

The kitchen is in the back, Mrs. Feuer said pointing. The bedrooms on the other hand are downstairs. She opened another door and revealed a stairway. Shall I show you now?

Kathleen looked at David, who shrugged.

Yes, that would be nice, Kathleen said. David, why don’t you wait for Samuel? She waited for Mrs. Feuer to disappear from sight before adding in a whisper, Make sure he flushes the toilet, please.

Kathleen went down the stairs without waiting for an answer. With any luck Mrs. Feuer would want to hold the baby, maybe, and with a lot more luck Daniel would tolerate it. He was used to Kathleen’s mum, and David’s mother, and of course Elsa, who ran the Rosenbaum household. But strangers clucking at him, or even looking at him for a second too long made him shriek. Kathleen just needed Daniel to cooperate for a couple of minutes, so she could get the luggage downstairs.

The downstairs hallway was pitch black, even though it was in the middle of the afternoon, a bright, sunny afternoon. Kathleen blinked when Mrs. Feuer turned on the light. She caught sight of more people and was startled, then realized there was another mirror.

Our room is down there, Mrs. Feuer said, pointing, but Kathleen was barely listening. Instead she was staring at the mirror.

Her hair shone brightly in what little light there was in stark contrast to Mrs. Feuer’s dark head which looked as black as anything Kathleen had ever seen.

Are you coming? Mrs. Feuer said.

So sorry, Kathleen said, and hurried to explain. The trip, with the boys...

These are your rooms, Mrs. Feuer said, opening the doors.

Kathleen peered in. One had a crib and a single bed, the other a double. Each had a small dresser. Kathleen entered the room that would presumably be Samuel and Daniel’s and took the two or three steps to the window. She peered out, but it was like looking down into a subway tunnel. The airshaft was bricked in. It was just a couple of feet deep. She glanced up and saw bars. Despite the hour, barely any light was visible and Kathleen guessed the back of the house was in full shade most, if not all, of the time.

These are my boys’ rooms, Mrs. Feuer said.

They are very nice, Kathleen lied. Lying was a sin, but it wouldn’t do to be rude to her host. Where are your sons?

She held her breath dreading the answer, but it was best to find out now. So many sons, fathers, brothers, had left and never came home. Never would. To her relief, Mrs. Feuer smiled, widely.

They are in the army. They are down south. They were sent back here from Europe and were supposed to go to the Pacific, but now they won’t have to, right?

Mrs. Feuer was beaming broadly now. Her smile lit up the room and Kathleen scolded herself for complaining, if only in her head, about the accommodations. So what if the rooms weren’t as grand as she had apparently allowed herself to become accustomed to? What would Kathleen’s mum say if she saw her daughter, the Rosenbaum’s maid’s daughter, scoffing at a perfectly good room and another one for her sons? Why before Kathleen’s father had died Kathleen had slept on a bed tucked away in the corner of her family’s kitchen. Her mum would probably cuff Kathleen about the ears for being so full of herself and her mum would be totally right to do so.

I best get the bags, Kathleen said. Would you hold the baby?

Can’t your husband get them?

He’s tired, Kathleen said. His leg. He was gravely injured in Italy.

Oh my, of course,’ Mrs. Feuer said. Thank goodness he’s alright now."

Kathleen half expected the woman to cross herself, then remembered. Hopefully David’s service and sacrifice would be enough. Hopefully they would be allowed to stay. She slid Daniel gently into Mrs. Feuer’s open arms. He instantly started squirming and Kathleen prayed he would stay asleep, for just a couple more minutes, as she left the room.

Samuel was in the upstairs hallway and David was missing. Kathleen assumed he was in the bathroom. With another bit of luck Kathleen would have all the suitcases downstairs before David finished.

Come on, Samuel, Kathleen said. I will show you to your room.

She picked up a suitcase and motioned for Samuel to head down the stairs, then followed him. Samuel’s room, the room in New York, the room he had grown up in, overlooked a courtyard behind the Rosenbaum’s house. It was a small courtyard, but hopefully a little boy would find an airshaft even more interesting. Kathleen tucked the suitcase just inside her and David’s room. Daniel was not making any noise.

That’s your room, Samuel, Kathleen said. Go see.

Mrs. Feuer was standing in the corner, swaying back and forth. Kathleen recognized the well-practiced motion to try to keep the baby asleep. Samuel glanced in the room and turned back, scowling.

Just wait here, Kathleen said.

She went back down the hall and turned up the stairs. David was coming down with the last bag. Kathleen ducked back out of sight. She knew, had known for a long time, that the damage to his body was permanent. It shouldn’t matter. It didn’t matter. But it still made her sad sometimes. David set the suitcase down and Kathleen took it into the bedroom and set it on the bed. Before she could open it Daniel started fussing, reaching for Kathleen. She took him out of Mrs. Feuer’s arms.

I need to start dinner, Mrs. Feuer said.

I’m happy to help, Kathleen said. Samuel can watch his brother.

No! Samuel said from the doorway.

Samuel you—

We keep kosher, Mrs. Feuer said.

Kathleen looked at her. The challenge on the woman’s face was unmistakable. Careful, Kathleen told herself.

Of course, Kathleen said. David’s mother keeps kosher as well. And I stayed with her when David went away to Africa.

I thought you said he was injured in Italy.

He was injured in Italy, but he was in Africa first. Then after Italy he was sent to England.

Kathleen tried to keep her tone polite, but it was hard. How dare this woman question David’s sacrifice. Why? Just because he was married to Kathleen?"

I know all about keeping kosher, Kathleen said. I’ve been doing it for years.

Since you were married, you mean.

Oh, no, Kathleen said, as earnestly as she could. Long before that. As long as I can remember actually.

It wasn’t a lie. As a child Kathleen’s meals frequently were made up of the extra food her mother brought home from her job. Helping in the Rosenbaum’s kitchen Kathleen had learned quickly. The rules for keeping kosher were simple, but strict. Kathleen’s mum wouldn’t hesitate to smack her for any type of mistake. Even kind, sweet Elsa would shriek and lunge across the kitchen if she thought Kathleen was using the wrong plate or knife. No one talked about keeping kosher in the Rosenbaum’s house, it was just what they did. Kathleen hated the word kosher, but not because of how the food had to be prepared. No, that was for an entirely different reason.

Mrs. Feuer was looking at her curiously and Kathleen realized that maybe she could pull off the deception. Despite her Irish looks and name maybe Mrs. Feuer would never figure out that Kathleen was a shiksa—a non-Jewish woman. That seemed nicer than enduring the judgement and the whispers again.

Mama, Samuel said and stomped his foot.

As the look crossed Mrs. Feuer’s face Kathleen made up her mind. It wasn’t just about her, it was about her babies. Anything Samuel did wrong—and Lord knows trouble had a way of finding that boy—would be blamed on Kathleen and Kathleen alone. If Samuel misbehaved it was her fault. After all she was his mother. But she wouldn’t have it blamed on the shiksa blood running through his veins.

Samuel, Kathleen said sternly. You will not stomp your feet. That is rude behavior. Do it again and you will be sorry. Very sorry. Do you hear me? Then she turned back to Mrs. Feuer. Let me get a couple of things out for the children and I’ll be up to help you in the kitchen.

Alright, Mrs. Feuer said, but instead of leaving she opened the closet door.

When she disappeared behind it Kathleen mouthed, You be good, to Samuel, as angrily as she could.

Samuel, Mrs. Feuer said, when she reappeared. Would you like to play with this truck? It was my son’s.

Samuel’s face lit up as he caught sight of the toy. It was red and blue and quite filthy. Mrs. Feuer showed him how to use the handle to make the back of it pop up and dump, Kathleen was quite sure Samuel had never been more amazed by anything. Then he snatched it out of Mrs. Feuer’s hands.

Samuel, Kathleen said. Where are your manners?

Tank you. Tankyoutankyoutankyou.

Mrs. Feuer smiled.

Such a nice boy, she said, and patted his head. Kathleen prayed he wouldn’t smack Mrs. Feuer’s hand away, but at the same time she felt the woman’s approval wash over her. Come with me, Samuel, Mrs. Feuer said. Come with...can he call me Tante?

Of course, Kathleen said.

Tante meant aunt and Samuel didn’t have any true aunts or uncles as neither Kathleen nor David had any brothers or sisters. Well, no living siblings. Naomi would have been the closest thing to a Tante Samuel had. But Samuel probably didn’t even remember his No-me anymore. Kathleen didn’t have any time to be sad about it, Mrs. Feuer was talking again. You bring the baby up to the living room, she said as she led Samuel out of the room.

The rest of the day went splendidly. Enamored with his new toy, Samuel was more than happy to watch his baby brother. David stayed in the living room with them, reading what information he had to get ready to register for his classes the next day.

Dinner was almost ready by the time Mr. Feuer came home. He was obviously exhausted, but seemed happy to meet them. He reminded Kathleen of David’s own father and she supposed it must be the way he spoke, the barely perceptible German accent on his perfect English. Kathleen realized with a start it had been a long time since she had thought of David’s father, or even her own. She supposed they would burn a Yahreitz candle here. Kathleen had thought it a nice tradition and had wished every year that they could light one on the anniversary of her own father’s death as well. Kathleen hadn’t gone to mass or confession since she had married David. She knew her mum must light a candle at the church on the day Kathleen’s dad had died, and probably on his birthday as well. But they never spoke of it.

Kathleen felt herself blush as she heard Mrs. Feuer all but bragging about what a big help Kathleen had been in the kitchen. But she was stricken the next instant when Mr. Feuer announced they would be doing the blessings. David’s family only did the Hebrew prayers before and after meals on the High Holidays and for Passover. Kathleen had heard them often enough. She was able to recite them perfectly in unison with her hosts, to her great relief. As the bread was passed around she remembered an evening long ago, passing time with David in the kitchen. He had taught her the prayers. Kathleen had wanted to learn them, she liked learning anything new, but that had been at a time when they found any reason to spend time together, trying desperately to conceal how they really felt about each other. Even so they were careful to wait until Kathleen’s mother was occupied elsewhere.

Samuel didn’t know the prayers. After David’s father had died his mother no longer hosted people for the Jewish holidays. She was always invited to someone else’s house for those nights. Kathleen resolved to teach her son, as quickly as she could. Or better yet, David would, to be sure Samuel was saying them perfectly. She told David so as they were getting ready for bed.

What? David said.

Kathleen assumed he hadn’t heard her. When she had gone to unpack she had found only the top two drawers of the dresser were empty. Kathleen had carefully taken out the clothes—which she assumed belonged to one of the Feuer’s sons—and packed them in one of the suitcases they had brought. Now she slid it under the bed.

The prayers, for the bread and wine. You can teach them to Samuel? she said, sitting back on her heels and brushing off her nightgown.

David reached down and offered her a hand. She took it, but took care to balance her weight as she stood up so as not to pull down on his arm.

What on earth for? David said as he got into bed.

Our hosts, I think it would be nice, that’s all, Kathleen said, sliding in next to him. She put her head on his chest. Please, David, she added as he wrapped his arm around her.

Alright, David said.

She could feel him shaking his head. Then he sighed. She raised her head up and looked at him.

What’s wrong? she said.

Nothing’s wrong. I’m just thinking about classes tomorrow.

It will be fine, she said automatically. Before David could respond she added Kina hora. She couldn’t help but giggle.

Kina hora? David said.

The evil eye, you know.

Yes, I know. Why would you say that?

Your mother says it all the time.

So?

I just...

Kathleen couldn’t tell him, not now. When David had come home it was time to be happy. Surely what he had endured during the war was far worse than the ladies Naomi had always called the yentas gossiping about Kathleen at the synagogue.

What, Kathleen, what?

Kathleen opened her mouth to answer, but then they heard it. Samuel screaming.

Mama, mama.

Kathleen sat up.

Mama!

I’ll be right back, she told her husband. Let me check on Samuel.

She shushed him as loudly as she dared as she entered the children’s room.

Mama!

Kathleen stole a glance at Daniel. His arms were flung up over his head and he appeared to be sleeping deeply. For now.

Mama!

Stop it, Samuel. Be quiet. You’ll wake your brother.

Not to mention Isabel and Raphael. Still Kathleen couldn’t help but smile as she thought of Mrs. Feuer saying that Kathleen should call her Isabel.

If Samuel is going to call me Tante, then of course you should call me Isabel.

Kathleen settled down on the bed with Samuel. Hopefully he would calm down and go back to sleep. She wondered what, if anything, she should tell her husband. But she fell asleep before she could think about it, much less decide.

CHAPTER 4

N ame?

Rosenbaum, David.

That table over there.

The young woman smiled as she pointed across the room.

It was as disorganized as the army usually was. Had been. The gym was crowded and hot. All that was missing was the forty pounds of gear strapped to his back, not that David missed it. But he felt the same combination of excitement and fear he had felt long ago, waiting on the dock in Virginia to board the ship to Algiers. This was different, David told himself. Heck, he even knew more now about what the future held for him than he did back then, namely what classes he needed to take. When they had boarded the ship they hadn’t even known their destination was Africa until they were almost there.

He got to the right table and checked in. He was handed a small stack of papers.

You’ll have to sign up for each class, he was told.

He nodded as if he understood and expected that, when neither was really true. Just like the army, he thought again. He looked around to try to decide which class to sign up for first. The line for the Mathematics Department looked slightly shorter. He headed over to take his place at the end of it. The walk up the hill to campus had been longer than he had anticipated. He had left early, intending to be the first in line. From the amount of men in the gym it appeared that virtually everyone had had the same idea.

When he got to the line the man he stepped into place behind turned around. He gave David a quick look up and down, then smiled. David tried to smile, but a large yawn overcame him.

I’m Parker, Scott Parker, the man said.

David, David replied and stuck out his hand. While they shook hands he continued, I didn’t expect it to be this busy.

Where are you staying?

Downtown. We got a room.

We?

My wife and sons. David smiled, even though the sons were the reason he was yawning. It had seemed like both boys had cried all night. As soon as one stopped the other had started up. David had peeked into the room that morning before he had left. All three of them had been fast asleep. He had settled for leaving Kathleen a note on the dresser in their bedroom, not that she had made it back to their bed last night. Do you have a family, Parker? David asked.

The man seemed younger than David, but there was something in his face that David recognized, though he couldn’t quite explain it. A young man who looks older than he should.

Call me Scott. No, I’m...just me, Scott said.

I got married right before I shipped out, David explained. Samuel, he’s my oldest, he was born while I was away.

They quickly exchanged brief descriptions of their service. David learned that Scott had been drafted, just in time to take part in the D-Day invasion.

What are you planning on studying? David asked, and was happy to see