“Elan,” she said, now sure of her words, now sure of her feelings. “I forgive you for everything that happened in the past. I understand how you could do what you did to me. I know you didn’t mean to hurt me, you were just trying to do what you thought was right. You see, I understand, because I did the same thing that you did to me, to someone whom I love.”
“Then you’ll consider giving us another try, Kat? Maybe we can start slowly, having dinner a few times a week.”
Katja could hear the pleading in his voice, and she felt sorry for him. But in the last few minutes, all of the magic of their past together dissipated like steam in the air. It was as if Katja had awakened from a long, troubled sleep. Her eyes were now open, and she was fully awake with a perfect understanding of all she had learned. And taking that knowledge, Katja knew what she must do.
She took a deep breath and put the fork down on the side of her plate. Then she looked directly into Elan’s hopeful eyes.
“No, Elan. I’m sorry. I am really sorry, but what we had is a part of the past. There is nothing left.”
It was so strange, when Elan had first walked out on her, Katja had prayed for this day when he would come back, realizing how much he loved her. She’d created extensive fantasies in her mind of him begging her to come back. Sometimes she would spurn him, other times she would allow herself to be taken into his arms and surrender to the passion.
But now that it had happened, all she felt was pity for him and a little sadness for what might have been. But the love, the desire, and the need was gone. “I guess our time has just passed. You will always have a special place in my heart. However, there is no going back for us. Not now, not anymore.”
“But, Katja, why? Why?”
“It’s hard to explain. But now I understand why we are here together tonight. It is not to rekindle what we once had. It is God’s way of showing me that I must not make the same mistake that you made with me. All I can do is hope that I am not too late…”
“But, Kat?”
“I’m sorry, Elan…”
Katja got up from the table, laying her napkin carefully on her plate. She walked over and kissed Elan’s cheek. The book of love she’d kept open in her heart with Elan’s name on the cover was now closed forever. Katja picked up her handbag and walked out of the restaurant and into the street.
CHAPTER 17
Outside the café, the wind whipped across Katja’s face as she tried to hail a cab. Everything was clear to her now, clearer than it had ever been in her entire life. If only she weren’t too late. The street light projected a golden halo as a taxi driver pulled to the side of the road, and she got inside the vehicle.
Traffic was beginning to lighten up. It was getting late, and the city was closing down. Katja had never been impatient, but she was now. She wanted to yell at the driver, to tell him to hurry. But of course, she couldn’t. The cab was moving as fast as possible.
When Katja arrived at her house, she searched her handbag, but she could not find the card John had given her that day in the market. It was nowhere to be found. Panic began to set in. Pouring the contents of the bag onto the kitchen table, she riffled through it.
Tears of regret and frustration began to sting her eyes. Now that she was sure of what she wanted, she had no way of contacting John. It was like a light had gone on in her brain and she was suddenly able to see the parallel of her relationship with Elan to her relationship with John. How could she have been so shallow, how could she have treated John the same way Elan treated her?
She needed to tell John what she felt, but she couldn’t find the card and had no idea where to look for him. Angry at herself, Katja flung her purse on the floor. As the leather hit the marble, John’s card fell silently out of a hole in the lining and onto the ground.
Katja’s hand went to her throat. There it was—John’s card. Trembling, she picked up the small piece of paper as if she’d just found a thousand gold bars. Then with cold and trembling hands, she picked up the phone and dialed the number on the card. The receiver felt heavy in her hand. Ring—then another ring. It felt as if her nerves would shatter before she had a chance to speak. The phone rang five times before the answering machine picked up.
“You’ve reached the office of John Russell with the Levy and Klein Law Firm. Ifyou are reaching this recording, Mr. Russell is either out of the office or is away from his desk. If you are calling between the hours of nine am and five pm, please dial zero and leave a message with the receptionist. Otherwise, wait for the tone and leave a voice message. Someone will return your call as soon as possible.”
Of course, he wasn’t in the office. How could she have thought he would be at work at ten in the evening?
“John…it’s Katja,” she said, in a small voice, hoping with all her heart that she was not too late. “I just realized what time it is, so I am leaving a message. Please call me when you get this, John. It’s important. I need to talk to you.” She placed the telephone handset back on the cradle and sat down.
He might never call. What if he didn’t? Could she find the courage to call again? Well, either way, it was doubtful that she would hear from him until morning. Dear God, a whole night to wait. She went into her bedroom, undressed and got into bed but couldn’t fall asleep. Her mind was ticking with thoughts, memories of Elan, memories of Mendel, and her father, too. But most of all, clarity…clarity about love, clarity about John.
At six in the morning, she finally gave up trying to sleep. The sun was peeking through the window and was about to make its entrance as the queen of the sky. Katja sat up on the bed and crossed her legs under her, and then looked outside. Out of the darkness of night, the brilliant sun, hot and golden, was beginning to illuminate her world. John. She whispered his name softly. It had been a long time since Katja had felt so sure of anything.
Two hours later when Zofia began to make coffee, Katja came out of her room.
“Good morning, my sunshine,” Zofia said. “I’m boiling water for coffee. Want a cup?”
Katja nodded.
“Mama, I need to talk to you.”
“Of course. You can always talk to me. It’s not that Elan again, is it? Did he do something terrible?”
“No, Mama, it’s not Elan. Everything was fine with Elan. In fact, having dinner with Elan last night might have been the best thing I’ve ever done.”
“Oy vey, Katja. You’re not thinking about starting up with him again, are you? He hurt you so much, and I don’t trust him.”
“No, it’s nothing like that. But it is something that you need to know. I am in love with someone. It is not Elan. It is a man I’ve known for a long time.”
“And I don’t know him? Who is it? Zofia dried her hand on a dishcloth and sat down across from her daughter.
“It’s a long story. But he is a man I met a couple years ago. We’ve been friends. We almost started a relationship, but I was a fool and broke it off.”
“Because you were scared of getting hurt.” Zofia nodded.
“Worse than that. I was scared of what people would say. Mama, he is a man of color. His skin is black.”
“He is an Ethiopian Jew?”
“No, he’s not a Jew at all. He’s a Christian.”
“Oh?” Zofia was a little taken aback.
“His name is John Russell. He is a lawyer, and well, he is the kindest, most understanding man I’ve ever met.”
Zofia studied her daughter.
“Last night when I was with Elan, I realized that I did the same thing to John that Elan did to me. I also realized that I made the biggest mistake of my life. I love John, and he loved me. I am just praying that he still loves me and that he will forgive me for being an idiot.”
“You should call him and tell him how you feel,” Zofia said.
“How do you feel about it, Mama?”
“I want you to be happy, Kat. I’m not going to live forever. I know you don’t like to think about that, but it’s true. When I go, it
will be a comfort to me to know that you have someone in your life who loves you and will take care of you.”
“I tried to call him last night at work. Of course, his office was closed at ten pm. I don’t have his home number. I’m waiting for him to call me back. If he doesn’t, I’ll be devastated.”
Zofia nodded.
“If he doesn’t call, then I’ll know that I’ve lost him, the same way that Elan knew last night that he’d lost me.”
“Here, let me make you a cup of coffee,” Zofia said.
Katja tried to stay busy, but the phone didn’t ring the entire morning. Then at ten o’clock, she heard the blessed sound of the ringing. Almost tripping over her own feet with her heart leaping like a frog in her chest, she picked up the receiver.
“Hello…”
“Kat? Where are you?”
Damn, it was Sarah Bloom, her new assistant at the organization.
“I’m sorry. I had some things to take care of this morning.” Katja tried to hide the disappointment in her voice.
“You didn’t tell me. I was expecting you an hour ago. I have some things I need to go over with you. By the way, we did very well with the fundraiser.”
“Good, that’s great…” Katja said.
“Any idea what time I can expect you?”
“Give me an hour. I’ll be in.”
“Okay. Sounds good. Is it all right if I take a little extra time for lunch today? My sister is here from Haifa. She’s only staying for the afternoon.”
“Yes, yes of course…”
Katja hung up the phone and felt as if she might cry. Zofia glanced over at her daughter but said nothing.
“It was Sarah Bloom. I am going to get dressed and go into the office,” Katja said.
She walked slowly into the bathroom to take a shower. The thought of a day at work was almost unbearable. She wanted to get into bed, pull the covers up over her head, and cry. But instead, she forced herself to get dressed. Katja had faced enough pain and disappointment in her time on earth to know that life goes on.
When Katja got out of the shower, she turned on the blow dryer to quickly style her hair. The sound muffled the knocking on the bathroom door for several minutes. But finally she turned it off and heard Zofia.
“Katja…open the door.”
Katja opened the door.
“He called while you were in the shower. He’s waiting for you to call him back.”
“Oh my God, Mama...”
Katja stood there in her robe, frozen to the ground, afraid to move afraid to return the call, and afraid not to.
“Call him back,” Zofia said, always the voice of logic.
Katja nodded and ran to the phone. She picked it up, and biting her lower lip, dialed the number.
“This is John Russell.”
“John, it’s Katja.”
CHAPTER 18
After Katja had walked out of the restaurant leaving Elan alone and rejected, he sat at the table for several minutes contemplating all the mistakes he’d made in his life. Not everything was easily fixed.
When he’d gone on this date with Kat, he was sure she would try again with him. Especially, after she told him that she was not married. He was disappointed. He’d been sure that he and Kat could have a good life together, but now he had no choice but to accept her decision. The waitress walked by the table. He flagged her, took a pile of bills out of his pocket and paid the check.
Elan walked through the streets of Tel Aviv. He’d had to park two blocks away. Usually, he would have enjoyed the walk, but tonight he just wanted to get home. He finally got into his car. His mind flashed back to the first time he, and Katja had taken a road trip to Jerusalem.
They had both been so young then, and everything in their lives seemed as if it was going to be easy, sweet, and perfect. How arrogant he’d been then. He had thought that he was in complete control of everything in his life.
Then that news about Katja came in like a sucker punch to the stomach. It all happened so fast—the Nazi on trial in Israel, and the news about Katja and her birth mother. Everything had come as a shock, and he was repelled by the truth of Katja’s birth parents. He couldn’t imagine having children with her. He was stubborn then, stubborn and unforgiving.
The automobile in front of him was going ten miles under the speed limit. He laid on his horn. “If you can’t drive, you shouldn’t be on the road, you imbecile,” he said aloud, although no one else heard him. Elan pursed his lips. He felt empty, sad, and alone, but he wasn’t sure if it was his heart that was hurting, or his ego, or both.
Elan Amsel opened the door to his home. All was dark and peacefully quiet. He peeked into Noa’s room. What a beautiful and sweet child she was. He shook his head. He’d almost messed things up with her, too. The only thing he’d ever gotten right in his life was Nina. Still he could not help but blame himself for her death. After all, if he had not made her pregnant, she would not be gone.
Sweet Noa, she was the exchange God gave him for taking Nina. At first, he’d hated her, but now he come to love her and vowed to protect her with his life. How he missed her mother. Noa was fast asleep. Quietly Elan closed the door to her room. He was glad she was not awake because he was in a foul mood and if she were awake, he’d have to try and pretend to be cheerful. It was hard for Elan to accept defeat in anything. He was standing in the hallway when he heard Gloria Finkelstein tiptoeing out of her room.
“Is there anything I can get for you, Mr. Amsel?”
“No, thanks.”
“Then have a good night, sir.” Gloria slipped back into her bedroom. The best thing about Mrs. Finkelstein was that she knew how to respect his privacy.
A bottle of bourbon caught his eye as he entered the living room. He’d left it half full on the coffee table. There was no need to bother with a glass. He would drink it right from the bottle. The room was dark, save for the moonlight. Elan unbuttoned his shirt and rubbed his well-toned belly. Then he flopped into the easy chair by the window and took a long deep swig from the bottle. The slight burn in his throat as always was a precursor to the relief from the emotional pain he needed to repress.
When he saw Katja at Noa’s recital, she seemed so receptive that he let himself believe that there was a chance for the two of them. After losing Nina, he was sure he could never love anyone again. However, when he saw Katja, he was pulled back into the past and for the first time in years, his heart fluttered. He had not felt that way since Nina died and Elan believed that perhaps by some miracle, he could be happy again.
He was hoping that things would work out, and he and Katja would marry. They were both older now, there would be no children, but she would have been able to give Noa the maternal guidance she needs.
Ah, but it was not to be. If there was a God, Elan thought, he was punishing him for the terrible things he did in his younger years. Katja said that she had forgiven him, but she no longer loved him. That was worse than if she said she hated him. Forgiving him and no longer loving him made Elan feel pathetic. But how could he expect that she would ever love him after the way he treated her?
What a mess Elan had made of his life. Over the years, he’d made more enemies than friends. Most of the women he’d known despised him. In his office, his coworkers joked about his careless escapades with more women than he could count. In fact, his colleagues called him a cad. Of course, that was all before Nina. Now he was known as a pathetic old man. Which was worse? He knew he drank too much, and that he owed it to Noa to stop, but alcohol was the only thing that dulled the loneliness. Of course, he would never admit that to anyone—ever.
God, how he missed Nina. She was the only person who had ever really understood him. It was uncanny the way she’d been able to see through his tough exterior to the soft underbelly that he’d so carefully hid beneath. “Nina,” he whispered her name in the dark. “I’m trying, Nina. I’m trying to do the right thing by Noa.” But he knew that he wasn’t trying hard enough. If he were truly a
n alcoholic, he wouldn’t be so functional at work. At least, that was what he kept telling himself. He felt so vulnerable, so exposed.
It was one thing when Katja rejected him right after he told her that Mendel had been killed. He’d expected her to be distraught and was not surprised that she was not open to his advances. But somewhere in the back of his mind, he’d believed that she would always love him. Now he knew that whatever they had once shared was dead forever. Even though he’d not seen Katja in years, the loss of her love for him left a strange emptiness inside of him. Little Noa was all he had in the world. He had tried to be a better person, and a better father for her.
CHAPTER 19
Katja was holding the telephone receiver. It seemed like forever until John spoke.
“Kat. Oh, my God. I was praying that you would call.”
Her hand trembled so hard that she could barely hold the handset. She cleared her throat and then she said, “John, I know this sounds crazy, but I had a revelation last night.”
“Nothing is crazy, Kat—nothing.”
“I realized that I’ve spent my entire life trying to please everyone else. I was always trying to fit in, to do what other people thought I should do so that they wouldn’t see the damage inside of me—so they wouldn’t see my faults. I wanted everyone to like me, so I became what they wanted me to be no matter what that was.
But it was not like that with you, John. With you, I laid my soul bare, and you saw me as I really am. Then something amazing happened. You loved me anyway. You didn’t care who my real parents were, or whether I was born in a hell-hole built by the Nazis to breed their special children. You loved me. You never judged me, John. I’m tired of living for everyone else. When I was with you, it was the first time I’ve felt truly happy since Mendel died.”
“I don’t know what to say,” his voice breaking, “except that you’ve just made me happier than I ever thought possible. And yes, Kat, you’re right. I would never judge you for anything. You’re a beautiful, kind and giving person. In fact, you’ve devoted your life to the service of others…”
Forever, My Homeland: The Final Book in the All My Love, Detrick Series Page 8
