Father Gerhardt came from the Black Forest region of southwest Germany and often spoke of its beauty—of towering firs and mist-laden valleys, of rolling hills and the distant clang of church bells muffled by the thick forest. Towns and villages were abundant in the Black Forest, and they could probably have their pick of assignments.
Suddenly, the comforts of New York and his kite shop seemed far away. “Do you want to go?” he asked.
Her eyes grew luminous, as if knowing the challenge ahead would be great, grand, and daunting. “Yes,” she whispered. “But I don’t want to go without you.”
He thought of the ring in his pocket. It appeared there would be no honeymoon aboard the Holland America ship, but perhaps they could have something better...
Sometimes the hardest things in life were the best.
This wasn’t a difficult decision. He knew the right thing to do, but he wanted Delia by his side as his wife. He cleared his throat and reached into his pocket. The aquamarine flashed in the sunlight as he set it on the tablecloth beside her plate, watching her eyes grow wide.
“This is about ten years overdue, but, Delia, you’re the only woman I’ve ever loved. I would like to go to Germany with you as my wife. You know how to prop me up when I stumble. You make me feel like a hero even though I’ve failed a thousand times. Every day is better when you are with me to share it. Will you marry me, Dee?”
Her eyes were a little watery, her smile radiant. “Oh, yes, Finn!” she said, and he took the ring and slid it onto her finger.
Back up on the veranda, dozens of patients who had been watching from afar let out a cheer and clapped their hands. He had made it to the finish line, to a land beyond the clouds where the sun was shining bright.
44
NineYearsLater
NewYorkCity• November6,1928
Finn squeezed into the nearly full subway car with an overnight bag slung over his shoulder while Delia held their son’s hand. They were lucky to find an open bench, although Gerhardt chose to stand and hold on to a support pole.
“What didyoudo during the war?” Gerhardt asked the soldier sitting on the other side of the aisle. At seven years old, Gerhardt became instantly fascinated whenever he saw a man in uniform, although Finn wished his son didn’t approach strangers to ask the delicate question. Not all men wanted to revisit those years.
“Shh,” Delia whispered to Gerhardt, tugging him back toward their bench. As it was crowded on the subway tonight, a number of people turned to listen.
“It’s all right, ma’am,” the soldier said with a friendly nod. His face was lined from years of tough living, and he had sergeant’s stripes on his sleeve. “I was a signalman who carried radio communications in Italy. Do you know where that is?”
“No,” Gerhardt said. “My dad was a pilot in France.”
The sergeant sent Finn a quick look of admiration before turning back to Gerhardt. “Well, that makes your dad a bona fide hero.” The sergeant stretched out his hand, and Finn reached across the aisle to shake it.
Finn didn’t regret his years with the Lafayette Escadrille, but his proudest work came during the years following the war. He and Delia moved to Württemberg, Germany, the same region where Father Gerhardt was raised, and they spent two years serving the people Finn once saw as enemies.
“This is our stop,” Delia said as the subway slowed down, approaching the Times Square station.
The sergeant stood too. “Are you folks going to watch the fireworks tonight?”
It was the night of the presidential election, and a firework spectacle would begin once a winner was announced.
Finn shook his head. “We’re on our way to a friend’s house. Do we know who won yet?”
“I haven’t heard anything for a few hours, but I’m rooting for Al Smith,” the sergeant said.
“It still hasn’t been called,” another subway rider said. “Last I heard, Herbert Hoover has the momentum going into the homestretch.”
There was some grumbling among the passengers, but plenty of clapping as well. Al Smith was the most popular governor New York ever had, yet he was running against Bertie Hoover, whose meteoric political career had garnered acclaim all over the world. No matter who won, Finn merely prayed for peace.
Finn gave the sergeant a casual farewell salute. “Good luck to you,” he said as he shouldered his overnight bag, then led Delia and their son off the subway.
If felt good to stretch his legs as they climbed up to street level, where a sea of humanity was lit by a blaze of electric signs. The marquee for theNew York Timesdisplayed election updates thatscrolled across it with brightly lit bulbs. Shouts of newsboys blended with the honks of car horns.
Finn didn’t want Gerhardt getting lost in the throngs of people, and they had several blocks to walk before reaching Benedict and Inga’s apartment. He hunkered down and gestured to Gerhardt. “Hop aboard,” he said with a grin, and Gerhardt climbed up to ride piggyback. Finn sent a wink to Delia. “Is all this excitement making you miss the city?”
“Not at all,” Delia laughed as they set off toward Benedict and Inga’s apartment. Despite being born and raised in the city, he and Delia were much happier living above their kite shop in the quaint, touristy town on Long Island. They often returned to the city to visit with friends in Midtown, but it wasn’t home anymore.
