Remember the Stars

by Carraine Oldham

  It works, and I finally knock.

  I wait.

  I knock again.

  The door opens, and angels sing when I find Sam, his hair disheveled, wearing low-hanging, black pajama bottoms. My eyes trace the lines of his abs and the small line of hair leading to his pelvis. The sight turns my insides to Jell-O.

  My jaw drops and all that comes out is, “Oh… hum… hum, ahh ha, hum.”

  “Hey, ah, what time is it?”

  “Ah ha hum,” I mumble.

  My gaze shoots to his crotch, and my cheeks warm. Trying to force myself to look into Sam’s eyes, I imagine I look like I may have lost my mind.

  “Are you okay?” he asks.

  “Umm, ahhh, yeah, ahh.”

  “Oh, you have the diary.” His lips curl into a knowing smile.

  “Diary. Yes. The diary.” Something about the word “diary” pulls me from focusing on his body, and I look up into his tired, green eyes. “Sam!” I snap out of it. “I know who Henry is!”

  “Would you like to come in?”

  I nod, probably a bit too anxiously.

  Sam swings open the screen door and I step into his craftsman-style home. The first thing I notice is the smell. It’s all Sam. It’s a mixture of fresh-cut wood and his cologne. The house is historic like mine, but Sam has updated the inside. The hardwood floors gleam and it’s not overcrowded with furniture. Enough for a single guy. A couch, a coffee table, an easy chair, and a small entertainment center decorate the living room. His place is void of a woman’s touch, which sends a river of emotions flooding through me. There’s not one trace of a lady in Sam’s life. I already guessed in the past that he was single because I haven’t seen him with any women.

  I stop gawking at his home and turn with a smile on my face. “Thanks for inviting me in.”

  I missed it before, but from the looks of him, I’m pretty sure I woke him up. Feeling terrible, I ask, “Did I wake you?” while wincing.

  “Yeah, but it’s okay. I have to go bid a job today anyway.”

  While I’ve lived next to Sam for a couple years, I know very little about him. He owns a contracting business, but his company has done so well that he only goes out on bids and runs the rest of the business from home. I know he stays up late because sometimes when I wake up to use the restroom in the middle of the night, his bedroom window is lit up. Sam doesn’t own a pet, but I’m not sure if that’s because he doesn’t like them or if maybe he’s allergic. Perhaps, he’s too busy with his business to have a pet. I know I wish I could spend more time with Otis.

  As Sam ushers me to sit on his couch, I glance around for more clues about his life.

  “Would you like coffee? I can put some on.”

  “Oh, yeah, I’d love coffee,” I say. I’m sure my eyes got as wide as saucers because coffee is my life juice. If it weren’t for the bitter, heavenly liquid, I’m sure I would’ve been put away after one day of working at TelCom Digital Systems.

  “Relax, I’ll go put some on. Be right back.”

  As he walks away, I can’t help but admire the fine form of his perfectly shaped butt. My body warms and a little tickle grows in my throat.

  I’ve never been one of those women who is confident around men, but Sam sends my awkwardness so far through the roof, it’s like I’m wearing nothing but granny panties around him. I panic a little when I really think about the fact that we seem to be becoming friends… all thanks to Estherly.

  My mind wavers from Sam’s butt and recalls what I read last night, and once again I’m over-the-moon with wanting to tell Sam all about it.

  “Do you take cream and sugar?” Sam yells from the kitchen.

  “Yes, please.”

  “Flavored or regular cream?”

  If you have it in Sam flavor, I’ll take that.

  “I’ll take whatever flavor you have,” I yell back.

  A few moments later, Sam, unfortunately no longer in pjs, walks into the living room with two steamy cups of coffee. “Here you go, Ferrin.” My name rolls off his tongue like silk.

  “Thanks.”

  Sam takes the seat next to me. Not on the chair, not even at the other end of the couch, but next to me. I think I’m going to die. He makes me feel like I’m a teenager and not a mature woman. I lose all sense when I’m near him, and gosh, how good he smells. I about spit my coffee out when he takes a hair tie and pulls back his wavy, dirty-blond hair. Sometimes his medium-length hair covers some of his facial features, and seeing it pulled back like this always sends quivers to my unmentionables.

  Refocusing on Estherly, I turn to Sam. “I know who Henry is,” I say in a whisper.

  “You said that. You seem pretty excited about it, too.”

  I bite my lip to keep from spoiling it for him, then open my big mouth.

  “I had to come right over and read you the diary. I want to tell you so bad, but don’t want to ruin anything. I hate spoilers. Don’t you hate when you’re so into a show and it’s the season finale and it’s already aired on the east coast and some jerk goes right onto Facebook and spoils the whole damn ending for you? I mean, you spend all this time investing yourself in the show, only to have the rug pulled out from you. Sometimes, I don’t even want to watch the damn episode after it’s spoiled because it’s completely ruined.” I realize I’m rambling due to nerves and clam up.

  I put my coffee down on a coaster in the shape of a fish, chuckle to myself about how the coaster screams I’m a single man, and then grab Estherly’s diary. “Do you want me to read it to you, or should I be that jerk and tell you what I read?”

  Sam laughs, which I appreciate because I know I’m acting like a complete fool. “I’d like you to read it, but you have me so intrigued, so why don’t you tell me.”

  “You’re not going to believe this when I tell you… ready?”

  Sam nods, while sipping his coffee.

  “Henry is a Nazi soldier.”

  Sam slightly chokes on his coffee. “What?”

  “Yes!” I say, with a bit too much enthusiasm. I can’t help it. Estherly’s story is like one of those shows I invest myself in, and every time I pick up and read it, it floors me even more than the last time.

  “You’re telling me that Estherly’s love is a Nazi.”

  “Yes, and, Sam, it’s the most romantic and tragic thing I think I’ve ever read.”

  Shaking his head, seemingly in disbelief, Sam remains quiet.

  “Now you see why I couldn’t wait to bring this over.”

  “I do.”

  “I read up to the next entry and then stopped. I’m going to warn you. Things are getting much worse for Estherly and her community. It’s actually quite terrible. I cried all night over what I read.”

  Sam stands, walks to his entertainment center, and opens up the bottom door, where a record player sits. He reaches for a vinyl record, and my affection for him grows when I recognize his appreciation for history. Placing the needle on the record sends the music of Chris Stapleton’s, Tennessee Whiskey flowing through his small house.

  “Wanna hang out after you read to me and talk about it?”

  “Yes!” I say like a young girl being asked if she wanted a new pony. I don’t know how to relax around this guy.

  I’ve had boyfriends in the past; I know how to act around men. But, there’s something about Sam Landry that drives me crazy and causes me to act like a fool. Calming my chaotic thoughts, I kick my shoes off and lean into the back of Sam’s couch, attempting to let loose.

  “Cool,” he says, and sits next to me before handing me the diary. “Oh, I almost forgot to tell you. I found another box tucked away in my attic last night. I went through it and found a ton of photos. I recognized Estherly in a couple of them, but I’m not sure who the other people are. The photos are kind of a mess. They’re torn and some look like they were covered in dirt. Did you want me to grab the box so you can go through it?”

  The possibility of learning more about Estherly excites me almost as m
uch as spending my Saturday morning with Sam, so I nod.

  Between sips of coffee, answering a few business calls, and chatting with me about what I’ve read, Sam and I finally finish the last diary entry I read the night before. He becomes eerily quiet.

  “It’s dreadful, isn’t it?”

  Sam clears his throat. “What kind of world do we live in?”

  “Luckily, there’s so much beauty, too, otherwise I don’t know how any of us could stand it.”

  “You bet,” Sam says. “This is really powerful stuff.”

  “I know. Reading about Estherly makes me want to reach into the pages and cradle her.”

  “Makes me want to climb into the pages and give those Nazi pieces of crap a few good blows.”

  I scoot to the floor while Sam takes another business call.

  After about twenty minutes, he ends his call. Unfolding my legs, I stand and stretch. “I think I have organized all the photos by person. I think this is Mae. What do you think?” I ask, picking up a photograph of a beautiful young girl with her hair done in victory rolls and a huge flower in her hair. I bring the photo to Sam and flip it over. “Doesn’t this look like it says Mae?” I point to faded handwriting.

  “Can you hand me my glasses? They’re on the coffee table, there.” He points.

  Inspecting the back of the picture with glasses on, Sam squints. “It sure as heck looks like Mae to me. It also looks like it says Stein. I think you’re right. I think that’s Mae.”

  I sit next to Sam with a huff. “I wonder if we’ll find out what happens to Mae and the rest of her family. I still can’t believe they shot her father like that and that Henry saved Estherly. You know, if she had gone after them as she intended that they would’ve shot her right then and there.”

  “My stomach was in my throat at that part.” He lets out a deep breath.

  I can tell from his solemn facial expression and the tone of his voice, that Estherly’s words affect him as much as they do me. I’m loving the sensitive side of him. I’ve never been one of those people who look down on a man for having feelings. In fact, it’s always been a huge turn-on for me.

  “Speaking of stomach,” Sam says. “Would you like to join me for lunch? I was thinking about going somewhere and grabbing something. We could eat and talk about all this some more.”

  My heart skips a beat. “I would love to.”

  Either it’s my imagination or Sam and I hit it off during lunch. Neither of us could contain our thoughts over the last passage we read in Estherly’s diary, and we were both equally disgusted by what happened to Mae’s family.

  Later, as I lean over my kitchen sink and watch Sam water his lawn in the orange glow of the evening, I wish he’d come over and want to spend more time with me. When we said goodbye this afternoon, I felt my heart break a little.

  Once Sam goes back inside, I turn and face Otis. He stands tall and judgmental. “Don’t look at me like that. I’m watching your daddy water the lawn. Nothing weird about that at all.”

  “Mum,” Otis says, with his thick, imperial English accent, “you’re stalking that man!”

  I laugh to myself. I gave Otis his English accent when he was a baby, and I’ve had fun with it ever since. Sometimes I think I’m a little bonkers, but I suppose as long as I know I’m making his voice up, it’s not time to call the asylum yet.

  I bend and pet his little black head. “Come on, Otie,” I call, as I walk to my desk in the living room. Opening my laptop, I bring up Google. I type in “Estherly Krauss,” the full name I got from the back of one of the photos and lean in close to the screen after I hit “enter”. Scrolling through the results, I find nothing that seems to pertain to my Estherly. Next, I try Facebook. I get ten results and start clicking on each profile. Not one of them seems like it’s the girl from the diary. I know that Estherly would be in her nineties, but my eighty-five-year-old grandmother has a Facebook, so I figure it’s worth a shot. I try

  Google again, this time searching Mae Stein, and too many results come up.

  Frustrated, I close my laptop. I get up from the desk, pet Otis, and walk out my front door. My feet carry me to Sam’s almost without a thought.

  “Hey there,” he says, after opening the door.

  I shoot him my best pouty face.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “I can’t find anything on Google or Facebook.”

  “Come on in.” He swings the screen door and holds it open for me. “Have a seat.”

  I plop down on the couch, almost in the same spot I sat in earlier and bring my legs to my chest.

  “How much time did you actually spend on Google?”

  I shrug, knowing I probably didn’t take as much time as I should’ve, but I missed Sam and wanted to do the search with him.

  He walks to his dining room, grabs his laptop, and sits next to me.

  I lower my legs and scoot near him so I can see the screen. Silently, I breathe in his scent and curse myself for being so desperate. I can’t get enough of him.

  Sam starts a search on Google and gets the same results I did. We go through four pages before we give up.

  “I think we at least need to know if Estherly lived. This could be a wild goose chase.”

  “You’re right,” I say, but don’t make any movements. I’d be content staying this close to him for the rest of the night, except I’d have to go home and grab Otis. With thoughts of my big boy in my mind, I ask Sam, “Do you like pets?”

  “Sure.”

  “How come you don’t have one?”

  “You know, I’ve not really thought about that before.”

  “I have a cat. His name is Otis. I’ve had him since he was a kitten. He was upstairs when you came over.”

  “Is he black and white?”

  “Yeah,” I say, wondering how Sam knows.

  “I saw you on your back porch with him one day. You were reading, and he was chillin’ out by your legs.”

  Wondering if it’s possible that Sam spies on me, too, I smile while my heart flutters.

  “He’s a big cat. What the hell do you feed him, full-size chickens?”

  I laugh and still don’t make any attempt to pull myself from Sam’s couch.

  “I have kind of a crazy idea,” Sam says. “What if you read me Estherly’s diaries every night until we finish them? I know you work, but maybe I could fix dinner for us and you could come over when you get home?”

  My mouth falls open and I’m speechless. I shake my head to toss my marbles around and make sure my ears aren’t clogged.

  “I’m sorry. Was that too presumptuous?”

  “No!” I yell, and then change my tone back to a normal one. “I think that’s the best idea you’ve had all day. I don’t have to work tomorrow. I can stay up as late as I want tonight.”

  The smile that consumes Sam’s face melts me like butter. I’m not sure if he’s interested in me or he’s excited for me to read more of Estherly’s diary.

  “Want to read it here or at your house?” he asks.

  “I have to feed Otie, so I’ll go home and grab the diary and come back here.”

  Finally finding the motivation to get off the couch, I head to Sam’s front door. “Be right back.”

  It doesn’t take too long before I’m back at Sam’s and he’s yelling for me to come in.

  “I got you a blanket. It’s getting a little cold. Would you like some hot chocolate?” he asks.

  “I’d love some,” I say, as I snuggle into the blanket and open Estherly’s diary.

  After a few minutes, Sam comes in, hands me cocoa, and takes the other end of the couch.

  “Sam, I might cry while reading this.”

  “I hate seeing women cry. I get it though. I almost feel like I have to mentally prepare for what we’re about to read.”

  “Are you ready?” I ask in my most soft and gentle tone.

  “I think so.”

  I turn the page to the next entry and start reading.


  8 October 1941

  My heart is broken, yet at the same time filled with so much love. Broken because I miss Mae, and I’m beside myself wondering where her, her mother, and baby brother are. I worry for her emotional state after having her father murdered right before her eyes. Henry and my family keep me sane during all this chaos. I can’t imagine what it would be like if I didn’t have them.

  Chapter 6 – Estherly

  8 October 1941

  Creeping out of the bedroom I share with Oma, I shut the door behind me as quietly as I can. Stopping in the hall, Gavi grumbles in his sleep. I wonder if he is restless because of all that is happening in our lives. Moving towards Anika’s room, I push open her door to check on her. A nightlight illuminates her tiny room. Dolls in pretty silk and lace dresses line the shelves on the far wall. My eyes run over the collection of plastic horses sitting on her wooden dresser. Walking over to her, I cover up her small frame with blankets. She snuggles into them almost as if on cue. I softly brush a small, dark-brown ringlet from her forehead and tuck it behind her ear. Tiptoeing back to the door, I turn to take one more look at my sleeping baby sister, then slip through the door, closing it behind me. Slinking down the stairs, I go to the kitchen and open the refrigerator. I can’t forget to bring my little friend a treat. Grabbing a hunk of cheese, I sneak out the back door and head to the barn.

  The cool night air feels refreshing on my skin. I take a deep breath and hold it in my lungs, filling my chest, glad that the smoke from earlier has vanished. I let out the air and feel the emotions of the day wash over me.

  Nearing the barn, a faint light comes through the slits. He’s here! A wave of guilt pains me as I think of Mae. How can I be happy seeing Henry when Mae is going through hell? Maybe he has some news of where she is. Feelings of anxiousness come over me, and I run the rest of the way to the barn.

  The amber glow of candles barely lights up the space. They sit on top of a tablecloth that has been thrown over two wooden crates. Henry sits on a pile of hay, feeding the little barn cat. Our eyes meet, and he is on his feet in seconds. Running over to him, I lose myself in his embrace. His lips meet mine, and at that moment I could float away. Our lips part, and he pulls me into his strong arms. I’ve longed for his touch since our last time together, near Mae’s home.