While We’re Far Apart

by Lynn Austin

  “I have a surprise, Daddy,” she said, squirming to her feet again. “Sit right there and close your eyes. No peeking.”

  “A surprise?” He smiled as Peter reached up to help cover his eyes. “Okay. They’re closed.”

  Esther tiptoed to the piano and sat down, quietly lifting the lid. She found the piece she had been practicing for Miss Miller and began to play it, making the notes say everything she felt, the way Mama used to do – sad in the slow, mournful parts, and happy in the dancing, joyful parts. She ended with a soft pianissimo, then turned around, expecting to see Daddy smiling proudly. Instead, he looked stunned, white-faced.

  “When did you start playing again?” he asked.

  “A few weeks ago. I’ve been taking lessons.”

  “Lessons?”

  “From Miss Miller, the music teacher at school. Peter is taking them, too. Didn’t Penny tell you about it in her letters?”

  “She never mentioned it.”

  “I guess she wanted it to be a surprise. Want me to play another song for you?”

  Daddy got up and crossed the room. He wrapped his arms around Esther and held her tightly for a long moment, then he let go and closed the lid to the keyboard. “I’m sorry, doll.” His voice sounded hoarse. “You played very well . . . but I . . . I’m just not ready to hear Mama’s piano yet.”

  CHAPTER 21

  PENNY STUMBLED DOWN THE STAIRS from Eddie’s apartment and ran to the bus stop as fast as she could in her wobbly new shoes. Her feet ached from wearing them all afternoon, walking to bus stops and along subway platforms and all over Grand Central Station in them. But the pain in her feet couldn’t compare with the hurt and disappointment in her heart. She needed to get as far away from Eddie’s apartment as possible.

  When the bus arrived, she was glad that her friend Roy wasn’t on it. If she tried to speak, all of her sorrow and tears would spill out, and she wasn’t certain that she could ever stop them again.

  Eddie had barely noticed her all evening. She had hoped that he would invite her to sit down with the family and visit for a while after she finished the dishes, but instead he had led her into the dining room away from the kids. Her heart had hopped around in her chest like a jumping bean at the nearness of him, the touch of his hand on her back. Was he going to ask her out on a real date?

  “Listen,” he’d said softly. “I don’t want to put the kids through a big scene when it’s time for me to leave in a week. I’ll take them to my mother’s house next Sunday, and then I’d like to leave from there, by myself, if you don’t mind. Could you pick up the kids at my mother’s after I leave and bring them back here?”

  “Sure, Eddie. Anything you want.” She had waited for him to say more, but he hadn’t. “Well, then . . .” she said, “I guess I’ll see you on Sunday?”

  “Right. Thanks, Penny.”

  Esther had been so eager to get rid of Penny that she had fetched her coat. Penny had hurried upstairs, grabbed a few of her clothes and toiletries, and fled to the bus stop. Eddie would be home for an entire week, and she wouldn’t even get to see him.

  Penny used the mirror in her compact before arriving at her parents’ duplex to make sure her tears hadn’t left black trails down her face. She wiped off her rouge and the remnants of her lipstick, too.

  “Hi, it’s me . . . I’m home,” she called as she let herself in through the kitchen door.

  “More new clothes?” Mother asked the moment Penny walked into the living room. She had left Eddie’s apartment in such a hurry that she still wore the new suit and blouse she had bought for his homecoming. All for nothing. Fresh tears burned in her eyes, but she didn’t dare let them fall. Mother would ask too many questions.

  “My old clothes looked pretty worn out,” she mumbled.

  “What are you doing here on a weeknight?” Father asked.

  “Eddie’s home on leave. He’s giving me a break from the kids for a week.”

  “It’s about time.” He returned to his newspaper.

  “How did you get here?” Mother asked.

  “On the bus.”

  “All alone? At night? It’s dark outside. What were you thinking?”

  “It isn’t very far.”

  Mother stared at Penny as if waiting for her to go back and undo her error. What would she say if she knew that Penny had gone all the way to Manhattan on the subway this afternoon? Or that she was learning to drive a bus?

  “Listen, I’m really tired,” Penny said. “I think I’ll go straight to bed.”

  But she didn’t sleep. After tossing around on her mattress until long after her parents had gone to bed, Penny got up and turned on her desk lamp. She found an old notebook left over from her high school years in one of the desk drawers and decided to use it like a diary, pouring out all of her heartache. An hour passed as she filled page after page with everything she longed to tell Eddie, declaring her love for him and her dreams for their future together. When she stopped to reread what she had written, she realized that Roy Fuller probably could use some of this to declare his feelings for Sally. Penny had been trying to help Roy, giving him ideas from time to time. One thing was certain, she would never say these words to Eddie, so her friend may as well make use of them.

  Penny wouldn’t see Roy for an entire week because she could walk to work from her parents’ house. She would miss her morning conversations with him, but it was just as well. Roy would ask about her reunion with Eddie, and she probably would burst into tears.

  After a short, sleepless night, Penny left for work the next day, carrying her uniform hidden in a paper bag. She would change into it in the ladies’ room so her parents wouldn’t have a conniption fit when they saw her in pants.

  Her parents. They were another source of anxiety in her life, but she forced herself not to think about the adoption papers. She simply couldn’t worry about one more thing right now, especially something as upsetting as wondering who she really was and who her real parents might be. No, most of the time she was able to convince herself that one of the clerks in the records’ office must have made a mistake.

  At least one thing in her life was going well these days – the drivers’ training. This morning Penny and the other students took turns maneuvering the bus through real traffic on real city streets, just as they had been doing for the past few days. Then after their lunch break, the instructor got behind the wheel and surprised them all by driving them to the Motor Vehicle Bureau.

  “You’re here to take the test and get your drivers’ licenses,” he announced. “Right now. Today.” Penny felt her knees go weak.

  “Now?” someone asked. “Why didn’t you warn us?”

  “Because I knew you’d start fussing about it and get all worked up and you’d probably flunk. But you can all pass the test. You’re ready.”

  Penny glanced at her friend Sheila. “I sure don’t feel ready,” she whispered.

  “Besides,” the instructor continued, “don’t you girls know there’s a gasoline shortage in this country? How much longer do you want to drive around wasting gas? There’s a war on!”

  His words made everyone laugh as they filed off the bus and into the building to take the written test. When all eight of them passed it, they lined up in alphabetical order to take the road test. Penny was so weary from tossing in bed all night and crying herself to sleep that she felt as if she were sleepwalking as she climbed behind the wheel. She did whatever the examiner told her to do – turning left and right, changing lanes, dodging cars, and slowing for pedestrians – while he sat in the seat behind her, taking notes on a clipboard.

  “You passed, Miss Goodrich,” he told her when they returned to the Motor Vehicle Bureau. “Congratulations.”

  Penny hugged her friend Sheila, who had also passed her driving test. They laughed and cried at the same time. All of the students returned to the bus station with their new licenses in hand, and the teacher herded them into their makeshift classroom for the last time.

&
nbsp; “You’ll each be assigned to a training route for the remainder of the week with a licensed driver riding with you. Beginning on Monday, you’ll be assigned to a route of your own.”

  Penny felt a little shiver of fear but also excitement. She couldn’t wait to tell Eddie about her accomplishment – although she would probably have to write to him and tell him in one of her letters. And she should probably tell her parents, too – but not yet. She didn’t know why she was afraid to tell them, but she was.

  “Before you’re dismissed,” the instructor continued, “I would like to honor our top driving student, Miss Penny Goodrich.”

  Penny stopped breathing, stunned by his words.

  “Miss Goodrich didn’t miss a single question on any of her tests. And even more important, she was the only student who never hit a barrel during practice out back.”

  She heard laughter and applause. Sheila patted her on the back. Penny opened her mouth but, like Peter, she couldn’t speak a single word.

  “Great job,” the teacher told her, shaking her hand. “For a reward, you will get the first pick of the new bus routes. Once again, congratulations to all of you. Take the rest of the afternoon off, ladies. Class dismissed.”

  Everyone except Penny jumped from their seats, laughing, congratulating each other, saying good-bye. She couldn’t move. She had passed the course. She was a bus driver now. Roy said she should celebrate, but who could she celebrate with?

  “Congratulations, Penny,” Sheila said. “I hope we’ll still see each other once in a while.” She already had her coat on and was preparing to leave.

  “Yeah. I hope so, too.”

  “Call me if you decide to volunteer with me at the USO sometime.” “Okay. Thanks.”

  Penny finally found the strength to stand and put on her jacket, but she didn’t know what to do with the remainder of the afternoon. She didn’t want to go home to her parents’ duplex and have them drain all of the joy and pride from her accomplishment. They wouldn’t be happy for her at all. Instead, they would overwhelm her with worry and fear, listing all of the terrible things that might happen to her.

  Penny went to the ladies’ room and changed out of her uniform, then wandered out to the front of the bus station. She was trying to decide where to go for a few hours when she remembered her adoption certificate. She had been so busy taking care of Eddie’s kids and learning to drive a bus that she hadn’t had time to return to the records’ office to find out if her birth record was sealed. She had already paid the money. Why not follow through with it?

  She got on a bus before she could change her mind and rode to the records’ office. Part of her was afraid to learn the truth. It would be so final. If a clerk somewhere hadn’t made a mistake, then she would have to accept the truth that she really was adopted. But how much longer could she push the whole mess to the back of her mind, trying not to think about it a hundred times a day? She would find out the truth now, while she was still feeling brave, while she carried her brand-new bus driver’s license in her pocket.

  The records’ office was crowded, as usual. It looked like a joyless place to work with its colorless walls and drab, functional furniture. Penny glanced around for the clerk who had helped her the last time but didn’t see her. She would have to explain her embarrassing situation all over again. She waited in line for her turn, then laid down the mangled-looking receipt she had carried in her purse all this time.

  “Hi. My name is Penny Goodrich, and I – ”

  “Let’s see that.” The clerk snatched up the receipt and looked it over before Penny could finish explaining. “One moment.” She hopped off her stool and sifted through the ranks of file drawers in the rear of the office. She returned a minute later with Penny’s receipt and an official-looking piece of paper.

  “You requested to see your original birth documents, Miss Goodrich?” “Yes.” Penny crossed her fingers and held her breath, prepared to hear the clerk tell her it had all been a huge mistake, that she hadn’t been adopted after all.

  “I’m sorry, Miss Goodrich, but the record was sealed at your birth mother’s request.” She handed Penny the paper and motioned for her to move aside. “Next, please.”

  Penny didn’t bother to look at the document. She folded it in half and then in half again, and by the time she reached the bus stop she had folded it into a very small square. She shoved it into her purse and went home.

  Mother had made meatloaf for dinner, one of Penny’s favorites, and they sat at the kitchen table to eat it. “You seem quiet tonight,” Mother said. “What’s wrong with you?”

  Penny didn’t know how to reply. So many things were wrong. She had a new job, she had passed all her tests, she had finished at the top of the class – and no one cared. She had learned today that she truly was adopted, that it hadn’t been a mistake, which meant that the two people closest to her in the whole world had deceived her for twenty-four years. And not only had her real parents gotten rid of her, they had sealed the record, as well, making sure they would never have to hear from her again. But the worst tragedy of all was that Eddie would be shipped overseas to England soon, to fight in a war that seemed as though it would never end. He would be in danger, he might even be killed, and he had barely noticed her.

  “Nothing’s wrong,” she replied. “I’m just tired, that’s all.”

  “You’re not getting sick, are you?” Mother reached over to feel Penny’s forehead, and the motherly gesture nearly brought tears to Penny’s eyes.

  “No, I’m fine.” She had to change the subject. “So I guess Thanksgiving is coming soon. If we all start saving our ration stamps, we should be able to plan a real nice dinner. I’ll have the children to care for, and I thought I would invite their grandmother to share it with us – and I’m inviting the two of you, of course.”

  “Inviting us where?” Father asked.

  “Well, I thought we could all gather at Eddie’s apartment. There’s plenty of room.”

  “I’m not eating Thanksgiving dinner in a Jew neighborhood,” Father said. He pointed to the bowl of mashed potatoes and gestured for Penny to pass them.

  Penny thought of Mr. Mendel and how kind he seemed. “How can you feel that way, Dad? Especially when we keep hearing about the awful way the Nazis treat Jewish people over in Europe?”

  “You’re naive, Penny. You don’t know much about the real world.”

  “But the newspapers say that the Nazis may have killed thousands of Jews in Poland – ”

  “The papers are making up all those things. Nobody could kill that many people. And for what reason? It doesn’t make sense.”

  “I think you should cook Thanksgiving here,” Mother said. “We could all eat here.”

  “But we don’t have a dining room, and this kitchen is so small. It would be very crowded with all of us here.” Penny also knew that Esther and Peter would die of boredom in this dreary, overheated house.

  “Do whatever you want,” Father said, “but I’m eating Thanksgiving right here in my own house.”

  Penny drove her apprentice bus route all week, returning to her parents’ home every evening, sleeping in her childhood bedroom. The house felt as if all of the joy had been sucked out of it and that the walls were ten feet thick and made of cement. She couldn’t bear the thought of moving back after the war ended. She longed to ask her parents who she really was and why they had adopted her in the first place, but every time she tried to ask, fear choked off her words before she could say them. She thought she understood how Peter must feel, unable to speak his thoughts.

  On Sunday, Eddie’s last day at home, Penny put on her new gray suit and went to the worship service at Eddie’s church. She had gone there with the children for the past few months and had gotten to know many of the people. It felt like home to her. She sat with Eddie and the kids during the hour-long service, ignoring Esther’s glares of disapproval, and afterward they walked back to the duplex together.

  “You kids go on inside
and help your grandmother with lunch,” Eddie told them. “I’ll be right in. I want to talk to Penny alone.”

  Her heart started jumping around inside her chest again as she stood beside him in the backyard, waiting for the kids to disappear. She knew it was impolite to stare, but she couldn’t take her eyes off of him. Eddie looked so handsome in his dress uniform, even if the army had cut off his beautiful blond curls.

  “Listen, Penny. The kids say they’re happy living with you and they want you to keep on taking care of them – if you’re still willing, that is.” His words surprised her. She had expected Esther to complain so bitterly about her that Eddie would find someone else to watch them.

  “Of course I’m willing, Eddie. I’m happy to do it.”

  “Good. I’ve been talking to my mother about the situation, and she has agreed to let the kids stay here on the weekends from now on so you can get a break. I helped Ma clear a place for them to sleep.”

  “That was nice of you to think of me.”

  “I also went to see Peter’s teacher like you suggested. She says he seems fine and that he hasn’t caused any problems. She thinks we should just give him more time and that he’ll start talking again. I don’t know, though. Should I be worried?”

  Penny didn’t know what to say. She could hardly concentrate on his words, standing so close to him. She longed to touch his face and smooth away the worried creases. “His teacher seems to know a lot about kids,” she finally said. “I think you can trust her judgment. Besides, what good will worrying do?”

  “You’re right. . . . But promise me you’ll let me know what’s happening from now on, okay?”

  “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about Peter. I didn’t want you to worry. Sorry.”

  “That’s okay. And I really appreciate your letters, Penny. I hope you’ll keep writing to me. I feel like I’m right back home when I read them, and I can picture everything you’re describing.”

  She couldn’t help smiling at his compliment. “I enjoy your letters, too.”