“Estherly, I have news for you that I’m not quite sure how to say.”
“Is it about Meir?” I ask.
“I’m sorry. I don’t have any news on your son. It’s about me.”
Puzzled, I glance in his direction.
“My service in the military is ending. I’ll be going back home to the States in a couple of weeks and back to my medical practice.”
His words pierce my chest, and I realize in this moment how close I am to him.
“I need to talk to you,” he says, and then gets down on the ground on one knee. “I know we haven’t known each other long, but the minute I saw you, I fell in love with you. The first time I held you in my arms, that day in the field, I knew all I wanted to do in this life is make you happy and keep you safe. Getting to know you over this time has only proven to me how deep my affections are. I promise to give you the life and happiness you deserve if you marry me. Estherly Krauss, will you be my wife?”
My heart pounds, and I rush my hand to my chest, as if resting it there will calm my heartbeat. I am in a state of shock. Tears make their way down my cheeks.
Oren takes my hand into his and places his lips to it, sending chills down my spine. There’s no denying that I have deep feelings for Oren — they’re deeper than I ever imagined I could feel. When I look into his eager gaze, I know I love him, too.
“I’ll try to make all your dreams come true. Dreams this life tried to steal from you,” he assures.
A picture plays in my mind of the life I will have if I accept his proposal. He’s proven to me that he’ll protect and care for me. When I’m with him, I feel safer than I have for years. I have no reason to doubt his intentions. Oren is from the United States, the place my dear, sweet Oma is. I’d be a fool not to take the opportunity of being closer to her. Marrying this man kneeling before me would guarantee a better life than the one that awaits me: living in a camp or being shipped off to a strange country. I’ve lost everything in this world, except Oma and now Oren.
Catching my breath, I part my lips, ready to answer. “Yes,” I say, and burst out laughing. “Yes, Oren.” In my heart of hearts, I know even if I did not love him, I would have said yes, knowing I’d grow to love him in time.
Rising from the ground, he takes me into his arms, holding me tight. In his arms, I’m safe. In his arms, I’m loved. In his arms, I see a future that was hazy for so long. Pulling back, he takes his time looking into my eyes before he places his lips on mine. Our kiss sends sparks of joy and excitement into my chest, and with his lips lingering on mine, I fall under his spell.
29 June 1945
Unhooking the latch on the fence that once opened to our farmhouse, I step onto the field where I grew up, Oren close behind me. Inhaling, I take in the familiar scent of home as tears trickle down my cheeks.
Memories flood my mind as my husband places his hand on the small of my back. His action causes me to remember our small wedding day, less than a week ago, and reminds me that he’s my rock. A vision of Klara and Oskar standing by our sides as we said, “I do,” drifts into my mind. Oren and I took vows on a hilltop near the hospital while the sun set in the early evening sky. The non-religious ceremony, presided over by his Army chaplain, was short, yet intimate and beautiful.
Taking steps towards what used to be my family’s home, Oren’s presence relaxes me and brings me back to the moment.
“It doesn’t look like anyone has lived here in a while,” he says, removing his hand from my back and peering into the living room window. “There’s still some furniture inside. Why don’t I go in before you and make sure it’s safe?”
As he walks through the door, I sit on the front steps, letting the sunlight warm my face. Even though it’s been years since I’ve set foot on this property, it’s still my home. Bittersweet feelings overcome my heart as I think of my family. I envision Anika twirling in the field where we used to dance. Turning my head, I look at where Oma’s garden once was, and I thank God I’ve found her. Looking at the barn, I recall Gavi teaching me how to ride a horse when I was a young girl.
“Estherly,” Oren says from behind me. He kneels and places a hand on my shoulder, and I lean into him. “Are you okay, darling?”
I shake my head and place my hand over his. “It’s hard being here.”
“Are you sure you want to go inside?”
“Yes,” I say with confidence.
His hand leaves my shoulder, and I rise, mustering the strength to step inside. Dust tickles my nose, and I stop in the entryway, taking a look around. Glancing towards the kitchen, remembering my mother, I admire how she always took care of our family. In the living room is our old couch, and I reminisce about my father sitting and reading to us. My heart longs for those times. If only I could kiss each of their faces again.
“My mother was always in the kitchen,” I say with a smile, “and my father loved to read. There was a chair in that corner, and that was Papa’s chair. Sometimes, I’d find him there in the middle of the night, sleeping with a book in his lap.”
“I’m so sorry they’re gone. I wish there were something I could do to make this easier on you.”
I kiss his cheek. “Would you like to see where my room used to be?”
“Of course.”
Taking his hand, I lead him up the stairs and show him each of the rooms, stopping in all of them and telling a story from my past.
When we finish the tour of the old house, we make our way back out to the front yard. Pointing, I draw Oren’s attention to the big barn.
“Ah, the famous barn. That’s where you met with Henry every night.”
Smiling, I nod, bashfulness creeping into my heating cheeks. I’m glad I’m able to be open with Oren about everything from my past, and he with me, but being here makes me anxious.
“Shall we do what we came here to do?” he asks. “Are you ready?”
I nod again, and he takes my hand this time. We walk across the field and I lean on him for support.
“We’ll have to find something to dig with,” I say.
“Perhaps there’s a tool in the barn. If not, I’ll find a way. Even if I have to use my bare hands.”
Letting go of me, he struggles with the barn doors while I anxiously await them opening. A cloud of dirt thrusts from the doors when they finally open, and the light of the day fills the empty barn. I’m struck with recollections of my nights here with Henry. I recall the time I danced for him and the moment when we first made love. Meeting Oren’s eyes, I know he understands my thoughts. He shoots me a gentle smile and then goes about searching for something to dig up my things.
“Here’s a shovel,” Oren calls from a shadowed corner.
My heartbeat quickens when I think of what’s buried here. I reach for the shovel when he comes my way, and he shakes his head.
“I’ll do it. Tell me where.”
I go back to the entrance and count my steps as I take them. “Here,” I say, stopping at the spot.
He starts digging and my palms sweat. I gasp at the dirt-covered cloth that I wrapped my things in years ago.
“Dig a little to the left, please.”
Oren continues shoveling until I’m able to grab the items. Unfolding the fabric, I’m met with the eyes of Anika’s favorite doll. Pain surges in my heart as I remember how carefully she wrapped it and buried it along with my treasures.
“This was Anika’s,” I say, combing a finger through the doll’s hair.
He takes his jacket off and lays it on the ground. “Sit here, darling.”
I plant my bottom down and clutch the doll to my chest, letting the pain of my sister’s tragic death engulf me. Oren sits next to me, takes me into his arms, and caresses my head as I cry.
“She was a little girl,” I sob.
“I know, I know, it’s so unfair,” he soothes.
“I miss them so much.”
“I’m so sorry.”
Right when I’m about to burst into heavier sobs, something glides across m
y arm. Looking down, the little black cat brushes against me. “Luna!”
She scurries away, and I hurry to my feet. “Oren, you have to help me catch her.”
“Is that the cat you told me about?” he asks, astonishment tinging his tone.
“It’s her! Luna, kitty, kitty,” I call.
She slinks from behind a bale of hay, and I’m ecstatic to see her. Bending, I rub my fingers together, trying to entice her to come to me. “Can you grab some food for her from the car?”
“Yeah, I’ll be right back.”
“Hurry, I don’t want her to run away. Luna, come here, little one.”
She prances towards me, and my drying eyes well with tears again. Grabbing her, I take her into my arms and cuddle her. “My, what you must’ve been through. You’re awfully skinny.”
“See, we didn’t need a snack to catch her,” Oren says.
“We’ll still feed it to her. She looks as though she’s starving.” Taking her over to sit, I let him feed her so she’s comfortable with him. “We have to bring her home with us. We’ve got to find a way.”
He doesn’t hesitate when he answers, “I’ll figure it out. It’s a good thing we’re traveling back to the U.S. on an Army plane.”
Oren feeds the tiny cat more treats, and I continue to unveil my treasures.
Holding up a photograph of my parents, I say, “This is my mother and father on their wedding day. It has always been one of my favorite photos of them. Their smiles and their eyes tell a story.”
“It’s a beautiful image.”
“She likes you,” I say, watching Luna entwining around his leg.
“I have a feeling this cat would like anyone who fed it.” He laughs. “Who does the jewelry belong to?”
“All of us. This is Papa’s watch, and this is Gavi’s. Gavi received it when he finished school. These earrings belonged to my great-grandmother, and this necklace was given to me on the last birthday I celebrated before we were relocated. This is my first diary,” I say, wiping dust from the cover.
“Would you read it to me one day?”
“I will.”
Each item I pull from the cloth has a story, and his patience while hearing each of them astounds me.
With the sun setting outside the barn, Oren and I gather up Luna and some of my family’s belongings that we took from the barn, and we head back to our hotel.
Chapter 25 – Ferrin
“Ferrin,” Sam whispers, as he shakes me awake. “Ferrin, I called the magazine.”
My eyes open and anxiety crushes my chest.
“What did they say?” I pop up in bed.
“They wouldn’t give me any information on Aleksandra, which I expected, but—”
“But what?”
“They’re going to contact her and give her your phone number.”
My shoulders slump, and I let out a heavy breath. “What if she doesn’t call me?”
“We’ll have to wait and see what happens,” he says, running the back of his hand over my cheek, soothing some of my dissatisfaction.
“Why don’t we get back to sleep?” he suggests.
Lying back down, I curl my body into Sam’s and relax in his embrace. “That sounds like a great idea.”
Sam strokes my back with the tips of his fingers, sending me into pure bliss. My eyes grow heavy as I blink, and my breathing evens out. “Are you staying the night?”
“I assumed I was.”
“Good. I want you to stay every night, till the end of time.”
“Now that sounds like a good idea.”
His words bring a huge smile to my lips.
Pulling my body, he brings me as close as he can. I’ve never felt so safe in my life. For the longest time, I was a lonely mess, and now here I am, snuggled tight against the man I love.
Although I’m drifting into sleep, my thoughts turn to Aleksandra and whether she’ll contact me. If she does, will she lead us to Meir? It would be a dream come true if I could unite Estherly’s family with him. One of the reasons I quit my job was so that I could dedicate more of my time to finding Meir. At first, I thought it was only a pipe dream, but now I think it’s something tangible. Imagining getting a call from Aleksandra, I fade into sleep.
Pulling into Sam’s driveway, I try to push aside the frustration that’s built up inside me during my drive home from running errands for him. It’s been two and a half weeks since we left our information with the magazine Brit Bits, and we haven’t heard a peep from Aleksandra. I know Sam is aware that my patience is running thin, but I attempt to keep how upset I am from him. I’d rather have happy times with him instead of constantly bringing up my disappointment.
Getting out of the car, I grab the items Sam asked me to pick up from the hardware store and head to his front door. As I approach, music comes from the house, and I smile. I adore Sam’s love of music. I love Sam’s voice, even if he’s not that great of a singer. I love the way I catch him dancing while he cooks. I love everything about Sam.
Turning the knob, I open the door and my lips part, shaping into an “O” at the candle-filled living room. Sam walks over, takes the bag from me, sets it on the floor, and takes me into his arms, without words. Tugging me close, he sways me to the music. Resting his head on mine, his lips brush my ear as he whispers lyrics.
“Crazy Love. I love this song.”
“Van Morrison. He’s a legend,”
“Mmm hmm.” I let out a soft breath.
Sam pushes off my body, takes my hand, lifts it, and twirls me. The movement sends sparks to my heart, and I laugh. Bringing his lips to mine, Sam kisses me. It’s a passionate, deep kiss, something we share often. The past two and a half weeks, although tainted with a bit of defeat, have been the best of my entire life. Being loved by Sam makes me happier than I ever thought I could be.
Moving our bodies to the rhythm of the music, we keep dancing as the song changes to the next on the album. Sam dips me and I let out a loud giggle. His eyes twinkle at how happy I’m making him. It’s not about my joy. I know I’m giving Sam a love he can’t resist. We take care of each other’s hearts and bodies. We take care of each other’s souls.
We dance through one more song before Sam pulls away from me, takes my face into his hands, and kisses me again. Kissing through another song, we stand in the middle of his living room. Finally breaking our kiss, Sam walks over to the record player and turns the sound down. Walking to the coffee table, he grabs a bottle of wine, opens it, and pours some into two glasses, handing them to me.
“What’s the special occasion?”
“Well, I got paid for those two jobs today, so there’s payday, and I felt like celebrating us. It’s been two weeks since we became a couple. Come with me,” he says, motioning to the backdoor. He bends and blows out all the candles as we walk past them. He guides me to the backyard, and I catch sight of a blanket laid out on the lawn. White lights illuminate the space and twinkle overhead. A cool breeze caresses my skin, and the fragrance of the freshly mowed lawn fills the air. Looking up, I find the night sky lit with a trillion stars.
Sam leads me to the blanket, takes the two glasses of wine, and I sit. He hands me the glasses back and then he takes a place near me. Once he’s settled, he retrieves his wine.
“This is terribly romantic.”
“That’s my goal.” He winks.
His wavy hair is pulled back in a ponytail, accentuating his chiseled jaw. In the dim light, I’ve never seen him look so handsome. Each day, I fall harder and harder for him. But, in this moment, I think my heart is completely lost.
“Do you like the wine?” he asks, breaking my concentration.
“It’s very good. Thank you for doing this. You’re… you’re… I can’t come up with the right words to describe how incredible you are. You treat me so well. You’ve brought a light into my dark life.”
Sam leans in and kisses my cheek. “I could say the exact same things to you. There’s not a moment I don’t think about you
, Fer. You’re all-consuming.”
Unable to hold back, I wrap my free hand around his neck and draw him into me. When our lips meet, I lose all sense of reason and fall into our love. Sam hasn’t said the words yet, those three little words I want to hear from him so badly, but in my heart, I know he’s in love with me. Maybe even as in love with me as I am with him. Our lips part, and we both stare into each other’s eyes with silly grins on our faces.
Taking my last sip, I put my glass down on the grass and lie down on my back, bringing my knees up. “Join me?”
Sam slugs back the last of his wine and rests on his back, too.
I take his hand into mine and gaze up at the spectacular show in the sky. “Do you think Estherly and Henry would mind sharing their stars with us?”
“Not at all.”
We lie in the backyard for hours, talking, kissing, and staring up at the beautiful stars, until Sam carries me inside and to his bed.
Lounging on my couch, I finish up the last of the calls Sam needed me to make for the day and put my cell phone down next to me. As soon as I set it down, it rings. Looking at it, I don’t recognize the odd number, but I answer, my heart filled with hope.
“Hello,” I say, cautiously.
“Yes, hello. Is this Ferrin Frazier?” a woman says in a thick English accent, and I know — I know it’s Aleksandra.
“Yes.”
“Hello, Ferrin. This is Aleksandra Rodham.”
I gulp and say hello back.
“I understand you’ve been trying to reach me?”
“Yes, ma’am. I believe you may have some information I’m searching for. My boyfriend read the article in Brit Bits. We think you may know what happened to… one of my friend’s relatives. I was hoping you’d be able to tell us if his name is on the records your family kept from the Holocaust.”
“I understand. I’ve been getting a lot of inquiries since the article came out.”
“I hope I’m not bothering you.”
“No, you’re fine. I completely understand why people are wishing to contact me. I have the book here. What is the name of the person you’re looking for?”
Remember the Stars Page 23
