“Have you seen your mama?”
He nodded. “Got the sweet-potato pie in my belly to prove it.”
They stopped in front of her row house. “Why don’t you go home and get me a slice. That’ll give me time to freshen up. I sweat like a pig at work.”
Twenty minutes later, Ozzie was sitting inside Rita’s mint-green kitchen with floral wallpaper above the cabinets and behind the stove. Rita had changed into a pair of Bermuda shorts and a V-neck tee, and she padded around in her bare feet. Her toenails were painted a bright pink.
“I got some iced tea. ’Less you want something stronger.”
“Iced tea is fine,” he said, undoing the first few buttons of his uniform shirt. Ozzie hadn’t had a drop of liquor since he’d gotten back into the States three months ago. He had been stationed in a rural town southwest of Little Rock, Arkansas, taking part in field maneuvers with the Second Army. The only way to stay sharp and alive during the maneuvers was with a clear head.
The house was quiet except for Rita pouring the tea over ice cubes and the wood mantel clock ticking in the front room.
“Where’s Great-aunt Reese?”
“She hasn’t been feeling well. Complaining of headaches. Doctor gave her something, but it makes her sleep too much, if you ask me.” Rita placed a glass in front of Ozzie and then sat down.
“I got you something.”
“Really?”
Ozzie reached into his pants pocket. “I was hoping to make it here in time for your graduation. It ’bout killed me to miss it.”
Rita ran her fingers through her hair. “That’s all right. Wasn’t for you, I would have never made it. Thank you for sending me that money. I will repay you every penny.”
“That’s not necessary.” Ozzie handed her a blue satin box.
Rita looked at him with big eyes and then slid the box open. Inside was a gold necklace with a square emerald pendant.
“Oh, Oz. It’s beautiful.”
“It’s your birthstone. Found it in a little shop on a stop through Lancashire, England.”
“Thank you.” She reached across the table and squeezed his hand. “Here, put it on me.” She passed him the necklace, and Ozzie’s fingers burned as they grazed her warm skin. Once it was secure around her neck, she clasped the charm in her palm. “Tell me all about your time away while I taste your mama’s pie.”
“What do you want to know?”
“Everything. What was Germany like? How was the food? Did you fall for one of those tall blondes with big boobs?” Her eyebrows arched.
For a split second, he thought about sharing the truth. Telling her about Katja. But he didn’t want her to see him as a man who walked away from his responsibility. Instead, he shared about his job in the motor pool, stories about Morgan and Satchel, being shipped off to Auerbach, and his few weeks in England before coming back to the U.S.
“What about you? I know those college boys were all over you. Fine as you is.”
Flashing her teeth, she said, “College was a life-changing experience, I’m not gonna lie. The classes, the culture, the space to be with smart Negro students and focus without worrying about other things. It was liberating.”
“Not one guy?” he asked, knowing that a confession from her would relieve him of his own guilt.
“Not one woman?” she shot back, but then waved her hands. “I thought we agreed not to talk about it.”
They stared at each other.
Rita broke first, counting on her fingers. “Germany, England, then Arkansas. Which place did you like the best?”
“Certainly not Arkansas.” He shifted. “Wouldn’t send my worst enemy that far south. Them white folks harassed our black asses like it was a job they were getting paid to do.”
Ozzie recounted how one of the men from his battalion had been cornered by an angry mob who insisted that he remove his United States Army uniform. “When he refused, they pulled garden shears from their pickup truck, held him down, and cut the uniform off of his back.”
“But why?”
