Safe Haven (14 page)

She shook her head and got up to help Selma clear the plates and serve the dessert of butterscotch pudding. Behind her she heard Theo exhale a disappointed sigh. They had talked about their differences when it came to faith. Would he rather she pretend?

  CHAPTER 7  

I
n mid-October Suzanne decided to make an appointment with Joseph Smart. She wanted to hear his ideas about the shelter and how it was working, and she hoped to get him to reveal some of the thinking of his colleagues back in Washington.

“Here is what I will tell you, Miss Randolph,” he said. “The process of reconditioning people who have suffered as these people have is accomplished—if at all—in two stages. The first focus must of course be meeting the immediate need for the basics: shelter, clothing, food. To attend to their physical needs.”

“And stage two?”

He gave a wry smile. “Ah, that is the more complex process. It is attending to their psychological needs, their mental health and spiritual well-being. That is a process that we have only just begun.”

“In what ways?”

He shrugged. “We offer the trappings of a normal life—sports, films, plays, concerts, classes, and lectures. We offer job training and English lessons—the opportunity to prepare for life after the war. We encourage interaction among the diverse nationalities within the shelter and try to find ways for the townspeople and our guests here at the fort to interact.”

“And is it working?”

He leaned forward. “What do you think? You are living in town, are you not? And I have observed you speaking with some of the refugees—Gisele St. Germaine in particular.”

Suzanne smiled. “Now there is a woman who speaks her mind.”

Smart sighed. “You have no idea.” He templed his fingers and studied her. “You are friends with the nephew of one of our families, I believe?”

“Theo Bridgewater. We live in the same boardinghouse. Why?”

“Halloween is coming, and I would like to offer something for the children. Something that would give them the experience of an American Halloween but without—”

“They could go on a scavenger hunt,” Suzanne blurted, remembering one of her very favorite Halloweens when her mother had given a party for her entire class. “They could go out in teams and in costume and—”

“Do you think that you and Theo Bridgewater might be willing to facilitate this scavenger hunt?”

She must have given him a blank stare because he quickly added, “You see, Miss Randolph, I believe that in order for you to truly tell the story of the residents of the shelter, you need to spend time with them without that time being for the purpose of an interview or gathering facts for your next article.”

He was offering her access to the community in a way few other reporters had experienced. This was huge. “Yes,” she agreed. “I mean, yes, I’ll talk to Theo, and I’m sure he’ll agree to help with the party. And maybe we can get Gisele involved and Theo’s aunt and uncle, and I know that Liesl—”

Joseph Smart stood up, signaling an end to their meeting. “Excellent. Put together a plan for me to review.”

Suzanne shook hands with him and left the office. On her way out through the tunnel that separated the fort from the town, she thought that really all anyone could offer people forced to live lives of uncertainty while they awaited the end of the war were these momentary reprieves in the form of some kind of event or entertainment. Any way one looked at the situation, they might be in America but they were still a long way from being truly free.

By the end of October, Theo’s work for the orchard had come to an end. Harry Walls had told him he would have work in the spring, but until then the POWs could take care of everything.

“Dad, there’s really no reason for me to stay,” he said when he made his weekly phone call to his parents one Sunday evening. His mother had insisted that he needed to “see this thing through,” but he saw little he could do for his uncle and aunt, and certainly it would be at least spring before the war ended.

“I was thinking,” his dad was saying, “maybe Mom and I would drive out for Thanksgiving. Would they let us do that? Spend Thanksgiving with Franz and Ilse and Liesl?”

“Sure. I’ll ask Selma—Mrs. Velo—if she knows of a room we might rent for you.”

“We can stay at the hotel, Son. Why don’t you see if that reporter you’ve told us about has plans? Your mom has been wanting to meet her.”

Theo rolled his eyes. Just what he needed—his mom the matchmaker. “I’m pretty sure she’ll probably head down to Washington for the holidays.”

“But you’ll ask her.” This was not a question.

“I’ll ask her.”

“Here’s your mom. Plan on us getting there on the day before Thanksgiving, okay?”

“Got it.”

There was a muffled exchange between his parents, and then his mother’s voice came on the line. “Now Theo, you let your aunt Ilse know that I’m bringing the makings for the dinner with me—everything we’ll need.”

“Mom, their place is pretty small, and there’s not really a kitchen.”

“Well, maybe Mrs. Velo would let me borrow her kitchen to prepare everything and then we could—”

“I’ll ask her, but Mom, she’s running a boardinghouse and needs her kitchen so she can prepare food for her boarders, and—”

“It never hurts to ask. Are you getting some rest?”

Theo was used to the way his mother switched topics with no effort at some kind of transition. “I am, and yes, I am eating enough, and yes, I am going to meeting for worship with Franz and Ilse at the shelter.”

“Don’t get smart, young man. What about that reporter? Susan?”

“Suzanne. What about her?”

His mother sighed with exasperation. “You know it wouldn’t kill you to think about settling down, and from the little you’ve told us she seems like a nice girl.”

“She also lives in Washington,” he reminded her.

“Oh, for heaven’s sake, Theo, you said she was freelancing. That means she can work anywhere, and believe it or not, we have some pretty good newspapers right here in Wisconsin.”

“Okay, how about the fact that we’ve known each other for less than three months?”

“Your father and I knew we were meant for each other after one date.”

It was an old story, and one she was fond of citing whenever she thought Theo was spending too much time alone. “You’re not getting any younger, you know.”

“Practically ancient,” he replied and then decided to give her something that would make her smile. “Suzanne and I are putting together a Halloween scavenger hunt for the children and teens at the shelter.”

“Oh, what fun! I wish I could be there to help. I could make a batch of my pumpkin bread and throw in some chocolate chips—all children love chocolate.”

“Wish you could be here too, Mom, but you’re planning to come for Thanksgiving. That’ll be great.”

“Don’t tell Franz and Ilse, okay? I want to surprise them.”

“Sure. I’ve got to go, Mom. I’ll call next week, okay?”

“Same time, same station,” she replied and blew him a kiss. “Love you, Theo.”

“Love you back, Mom.”

The morning of the Halloween party, a large carton arrived addressed to Theo. Inside were a dozen tin boxes filled with his mother’s pumpkin chocolate-chip bread made into cookies decorated with orange frosting.

“Oh, that’s just perfect,” Suzanne squealed when she saw them. “The children are going to love them, and they go perfectly with the gingerbread and apple juice we’re serving.”

The party was an enormous success. The shelter was filled with laughter and shrieks as the children worked in teams going from door to door in each of the barracks to collect the items on their scavenger list. Later the children gathered in the service club turned recreation hall to bob for apples and enjoy the refreshments while some of the adults entertained them with songs and skits. Suzanne had gotten merchants in town to donate items and gift certificates to be used as prizes for the best costume and for winners of the scavenger hunt, and Theo saw that some of the young people from town had also come for the party.

As they walked home together, Theo removed the fistfuls of straw that Suzanne had tucked into his sleeves and the cuffs of his jeans in her attempt to create a scarecrow costume for him. The truth was the stuff had been scratching him all evening, and he was relieved to be able to throw it away.

Suzanne had dressed up in an old evening gown that Selma had pulled from a trunk in the attic. It had puffed sleeves and a full skirt, and Theo had not missed the way the blue color made her eyes sparkle like Lake Ontario on a clear autumn day.

“We did it, Theo,” she said. “The evening was a complete success. I was so sure that somewhere along the way we might do something that would cause someone to get upset.”

“That’s very important to you, isn’t it? I mean, not making a mistake?” He was immediately sorry for asking because her high spirits plummeted at once.

“Well, sure, I wanted everything to be perfect. That’s just normal.” She sounded defensive and wrapped her arms around her body as if she had suddenly felt a chill.

“I didn’t mean it as a criticism. In fact, I sometimes wish I—” He waved off the rest of his statement and put his arm around her shoulders. “Are you cold?”

“A little,” she admitted. “Wind off the lake.”

“Yeah, well, it is almost November. Speaking of that, my folks are coming for Thanksgiving—they want to surprise Franz and Ilse. Do you have plans? I mean, don’t feel like you have to—”

“I’d really like that. It’s sweet of them to include me.”

They walked the next block in silence, but as they approached the walkway that led to the boardinghouse, she twisted her head so she could look up at him without leaving the circle of his arm around her shoulder. “What were you going to say before when you said ‘I wish’ but then let it drop?”

“It was nothing.”

“Wishes are never nothing. What do you wish for, Theo?”

He stopped in the shadow of the large oak tree in the front yard of the boardinghouse and turned her so they were facing each other, his hands resting lightly on her shoulders. “I wish I could find something in my life that I was as passionate about as you are about your work, Suzanne. I wish I could have that certainty about what my life’s purpose might be.”