Long Way Home(106)

“But it’s time for you to rest and regain your own strength—”

“I can’t abandon you with no place to go and no family to turn to. I have to help you get to America. I want to make sure you and Ruthie are taken care of.”

I wanted that, too. My hope of finding Sam alive was fading every day. Jim and I weren’t in love, but I felt safe with him. He had helped me, and now I wanted to help him in return but I didn’t know how. “Don’t you think that once you’re home with your family, you’ll see things differently?” I asked.

Jim stared into the distance as if he hadn’t heard me. Worry wrinkles creased his troubled eyes. Several minutes passed. Then he looked at me again.

“Gisela, I think I know of a way for you and Ruthie to get to America . . . if you’re willing to trust me.”





25


Peggy





AUGUST 1946

I couldn’t stop smiling as I unpacked my belongings in one of Mrs. Barnett’s spare bedrooms on Monday. The room was pretty and feminine with pink rosebuds on the wallpaper, ruffled organza curtains on the windows, and white chenille spreads on the twin beds. I kept thinking that I must be dreaming. If I was, I hoped I never woke up. I decided to wait before telling Pop and Donna where I was living, afraid they would spoil my happiness by accusing me of pestering Mr. and Mrs. Barnett. I simply wanted to enjoy my new job and my new home for a little while before thinking too far into the future. I hadn’t even slept one night in this room, but I already felt like I had a real home, with people who cared about me.

The only dark cloud in my sunny new world was my concern for Jimmy. His empty bedroom down the hall was a continual reminder that he was lost to us. Sometimes I thought it might have been easier for his mother and father if he had died in the war instead of losing him to this living death. But I refused to give up hope that he would recover.

On my first evening with the Barnetts, I was sitting in the living room with them, listening to Jack Benny on the radio, when the telephone rang. Mr. Barnett went to answer it, and I figured one of his animal patients might need him—and me. He was smiling when he returned. “It’s for you, Peggy. Paul Dixon asked to speak with you, but it has nothing to do with Blue Fence Farms.”

“H-how did he know I was here?”

“I told him earlier today,” Mr. Barnett said with a wink.

I had been laughing at Jack Benny’s jokes a moment ago, but my mood sobered quickly. What must he think of me? How could I ever tell him how sorry I was? I picked up the receiver and started stammering my apology, but he wouldn’t let me finish.

“It’s okay, Peggy. I’m calling to let you know that I understand. I’m not mad.”

“Then can we go on our picnic tomorrow night after we both finish work so I can tell you the whole story?” I was making a date with him! I couldn’t believe I was being so bold. But if Barbara Symanski could take a bold step, then so could I.

“I would like that,” Paul replied. “In fact, our picnic lunch is still in my refrigerator.”

The Barnetts could probably hear my sigh of relief all the way in the living room. “Good. I’ll pick you up at six, just like we’d planned.” My hands were shaking when I hung up the phone. But I was happy. Nervous, but happy.

Nothing got in the way of our picnic this time. We drove up into the mountains and I parked my car near the trailhead, then led Paul and Buster down a short path to a spot that I loved, overlooking Lake Minnewaska. I spread the picnic blanket Mrs. Barnett had loaned me on a huge, flat boulder and we sat down to eat. The summer evening was perfect, the lake as still as glass below us, the warm air scented with pine. Paul opened a brown paper sack. “I bought sandwiches and potato salad at the deli in town. Dill pickles, too. I hope that’s okay.”

“It’s perfect.”

He apologized for forgetting paper plates, but I just smiled as we dug into the same container of potato salad with our forks. Buster lay between us, his head resting on Paul’s knee.

“Your dog is very friendly, isn’t he?”

“He’s hoping you’ll feed him if he cozies up to you. He already knows that I won’t share my dinner with him.” I took a long drink from my bottle of soda and swallowed. I couldn’t delay my apology any longer. “Listen, Paul. I need to tell you why I broke our date.”

“You don’t owe me an explanation, Peggy.”

“Well, I still want to tell you because it’s a good story with a happy ending. And it might help you understand me a little better. But I need to start at the beginning, so here goes.” I drew a deep breath as if about to dive into the cool lake. “Mr. Barnett’s son, Jimmy, is my oldest friend. He’s never been my boyfriend or anything like that, more like a big brother. The apartment where I grew up is across the street from the clinic, and it was Jimmy’s idea to try to save Buster after he got hit by a car. His father didn’t think Buster would live, but . . . Anyway, I’m getting off track. Jimmy came home from the war with battle fatigue. He’s in the veterans’ hospital after he tried to kill himself.”

“I heard about Mr. Barnett’s son from the farm manager. It’s a real shame.”

“The only day we can visit him is on Sunday. That’s why I go running off right after church instead of taking time to visit with you properly.”