“If I start talking, I will never stop. Just hold me.”
Ozzie wrapped his arms around her. “You’re safe now. You’re with me.”
She turned her body in the water until they were eye to eye.
“Promise?”
Ozzie nodded. “Promise.”
After their bath, Ozzie convinced Jelka to take him to one of the few museums that had not been destroyed, but she was antsy and uninterested as they walked the halls and Ozzie studied the paintings and artifacts. After a walk along the river, they had dinner at a Turkish restaurant and then visited a private club that her cousin had told her about. The lights were low, the music American, the shots of alcohol cheap, and Ozzie and Jelka drank, danced, and then stumbled back to the apartment.
When Ozzie woke up, Jelka stood in the small kitchen, dressed in a short housecoat. Her lips were still stained with the crimson lipstick she’d worn the night before.
“Osborne. We need bread. Would you go to the bakery?”
As Ozzie dressed in trousers and a pullover, his hangover parked itself at the back of his head, the promise to his mother long forgotten. Jelka had pointed out the bakery and shops on their walk the day before, but Ozzie decided to take the long way around for a bit of exercise and fresh air. When he passed a small café, he stopped to see if they had any newspapers written in English. The small storefront smelled like butter and baked pastries mixed with the aroma of strong coffee. At the register, he flipped through the newspapers on the stand, disappointed to see that they were all in German.
“Philips?” He heard his name and turned.
“Clara?” he replied timidly.
She grinned at him, tossing a few loose strands of long hair from her face. “What are you doing here?”
He walked over to her table by the window, and she enveloped him in an affectionate embrace. She smelled like the talcum powder that he remembered she’d worn on the ship when she had nursed him back to health. That time felt like ages ago.
“I had a few days off, so I’m doing a little exploring.” He stuffed his hands in his pockets.
“What have you seen so far?”
“Just got in yesterday, so not much. Where are you stationed?” He took the seat at the table across from her.
“A few kilometers from here, over at Rhein-Main. It’s been a real learning experience on patience and persistence. That’s the best way I can describe it.” She pulled her shawl tighter around her shoulders. “You want coffee?”
“Yes, please,” he said, knowing that Jelka would be waiting for him but unable to pass up the chance to connect with Clara.
“Ein Kaffee bitte,”she ordered from the waiter.
“I’m impressed.”
“I have found that when you try to speak the language, they treat you better.” She pursed her lips. Then her face rearranged itself. “It’s just been hard. The army won’t give me permission to work on white patients. As if my degrees only work for one race. When there are no Negro patients, I’m stuck doing other things. Like cleaning and cooking, and it’s frustrating.”
Ozzie knew the feeling well.
“And it’s not even coming from the Germans. They could care less about our stupid American Jim Crow laws. It’s our own government. Intent on treating me like I’m stupid.”
“It’s the same for me,” Ozzie confessed, telling Clara how he’d aced the aptitude test and still hadn’t been placed in the Intelligence unit. “I spend most of my days with my head underneath a car.”
“Are you homesick?”
“Sometimes.”
“I miss my family terribly,” Clara continued. “My sister had a baby girl, and she’ll be darn near a year before I get to lay eyes on her.” She sipped her coffee. “Where are Morgan and Thornton? You guys still together?”
“Morgan is stationed with me in Mannheim, Thornton is training in Kitzingen. Hopefully, he’ll join us soon.”
Ozzie’s eyes shifted to the wall clock over Clara’s head. More time had passed than he’d realized. “I better go.” He downed the rest of his coffee.
“Who are you traveling with? Anyone I know?”
