“I can only imagine what that boy has been through.” Bert shook his head. “Well, I’ll teach him some Negro pride. I was thinking we can send for some of those Negro League baseball cards, let him get to know the players.”
“That’s a good idea. He loves baseball.”
“In the meantime, I’ll ask around the barracks and see if anyone has a set they wouldn’t mind parting with.”
Ethel fingered her rosary beads in her lap. “I’ve been looking into ways to get the children across the Atlantic once I get the adoptions approved. I’ve tried the air force, but the military furloughs are dragging along.”
“Have you tried the major airlines?”
Ethel reached across the table for her composition book and looked over her notes. “I’ve made inquiries with TWA and Pan American, and they both said that they could not transport such young children to America.”
“Try Scandinavian Airlines or Lufthansa. I’m sure they’d love the publicity of doing some charity work for brown orphan children.”
“Good idea.” Ethel scribbled. “When the American adoptions are approved, I don’t want transportation to add to the delay. I want these kids in loving homes with their new families quickly.”
Bert pushed his plate away. “I’m proud of you, darling.”
“It feels like I should be doing more.” Ethel lifted his empty dish, washed it, and placed it in the plastic drainer.
When she turned around, Bert had slid up behind her and put his mouth to her ear. “You are doing just fine. Now, put that pen down and that damn typewriter away and come on back in the room with me so we can enjoy some dessert.”
“I made cupcakes. We can have them right here,” Ethel whispered back, playing coy, but Bert didn’t miss a beat.
“We can have those too,” he said, pulling her close.
CHAPTER 27West Oak Forest Academy, November 1965
SOPHIA
Willa’s parents had activities planned on each day of fall break, and while Sophia had enjoyed her time with the Pride family, she never had a moment alone to read over the articles that Mrs. Porter Wesley had given her until she returned to Forest.
Back at school, Sophia made a beeline for the library and was happy to find that the little room Mrs. Fordham had told her about was unlocked and vacant. The room had a round table in the center with an overstuffed chair in either corner. There were no windows, but the air smelled of potpourri.
Sophia opened the folder and flipped through the magazine pieces, reading one after the other. When she had gotten halfway through the stack, she heard the doorknob turn. Christ, she had forgotten to lock it behind her. She quickly gathered the pages into a pile as the door pushed open.
Her face relaxed when she saw that it was just Max. She didn’t know that it was possible, but in the few days they’d been apart he had grown even more handsome. He had gotten his hair trimmed and edged at his temples, and his skin glowed like he had been fussed over.
“Soph, I didn’t know you were back.” He stopped. “Your hair. It’s red.”
Sophia’s cheeks flushed as she ran her fingers through her hair. Before they had returned to school, Ms. Eleanor had insisted that both girls stop in at Bernice’s Beauty Parlor. Bernice had scrubbed Sophia’s hair to a shine, and the last of the Ogilvie dye had drifted down the sink. Then she’d pressed it with the hot comb until it fell to her bra strap in a luster that Sophia had never known.
“Do you hate it?” she asked, tucking loose strands behind her ears.
Max stood with his mouth agape, tugging on the sleeve of his West Oak Forest Academy sweatshirt. “No, you look great. Was that dye before?”
Sophia nodded and then, eager to change the subject, said, “How did you know about my secret hiding place?”
“Mrs. Fordham told me I could use this room to get away from the racket. I was going to review for my calculus exam.”
“I hope I’m not in the way.”
“No, never. What are you working on?”
Sophia hesitated, and in those few seconds, Max reached for her pile of papers and scanned the headlines. “What’s all this?” he asked, frowning.
“Your story piqued my interest. I was at Howard University’s library over break with Willa, and I looked your story up.”
“You told Willa?” The vein in his neck bulged.
