Elizabeth laughed.
"You're an American too."
"You know what I mean. You grew up in this country. I did not," Ella said. "Erich and I want to learn as many customs as we can so that we can embrace them and make them a part of our heritage."
"Then you're off to a good start," Elizabeth said. "Fireworks are easy to embrace."
Elizabeth smiled as she walked with Ella and Lizzie on Nassau Street. She had thoroughly enjoyed the fireworks show at Palmer Stadium and so, apparently, had Lizzie. The toddler squealed with delight with each pop and flash in the indigo sky.
"I am sorry Susan and Amanda could not join us," Ella said.
"They thought about it."
Ella laughed.
"I doubt for very long. I understand their game was quite significant."
"It was," Elizabeth said. "It's hard to beat Lou Gehrig's retirement party."
Ella smiled.
"Some American customs are more sacred than others, it seems."
Elizabeth chuckled.
"They are on the Fourth."
When Ella stopped for traffic at the intersection with Bank Street, Elizabeth stopped to greet her favorite one-year-old. Lizzie Wagner, God's gift to happiness, sat up in her stroller seat and waved her hand around like she was John Philip Sousa. She smiled when her nana smiled.
"Did you say you had a card to mail?" Ella asked.
"I did," Elizabeth said. "I want to drop it off at Palmer Square so it goes out this morning. It's a very important card."
"Who is it to?"
"It's to an old friend in Los Angeles. I haven't corresponded with him in a while."
"It must be nice to have friends all over this wonderful country," Ella said as they crossed the street. "Most of our American friends are right here in Princeton."
"I guess that's one of the perks of getting old. You collect a lot of friends and acquaintances along the way."
Elizabeth laughed to herself. She had collected more than a friend when she had walked into the Pacific Winds Auditorium on September 5, 2016. She had collected a year full of trouble.
She patted the front pocket of her dress and felt the greeting card inside. It was as rigid and crisp and ready to go as it had been when she had stamped and addressed it three hours earlier.
Ten minutes later, Elizabeth, Ella, and Lizzie reached the three blue boxes outside the Palmer Square Post Office. The first had a collection time of 11:15 a.m.
Elizabeth pulled the envelope from her pocket and checked the address one last time. She wanted to be doubly sure that the card went to a time-traveling professor and not a time-wasting salesman. She didn't need to double check what she had written. She had that script memorized.
Dear Professor Bell: Thank you for your letter of June 22. I shared it with Susan but not with Amanda. I want to know the particulars of the Schmidt family's "serious transition" before showing the letter to my granddaughter. I suspect you are up to something. Please respond as soon as you can. Regards, Elizabeth Campbell
Elizabeth paused as she stood in front of the box. She didn't like sending important messages behind her daughter's back, but she saw no harm in doing it just this once.
She was requesting potentially vital information at a critical moment. She would have all the time in the world to share the professor's reply.
Elizabeth glanced at Ella, who looked at her with curiosity, and then at Lizzie, who looked at her with amusement. She smiled at both and walked to the box. She dropped the card in the slot and corresponded with the twenty-first century for the first time in nearly ten months.
CHAPTER 66: AMANDA
Friday, July 14, 1939
Amanda knew something was wrong the moment she approached the bench in the center of the leafy Princeton campus. Kurt did not stand to greet her, kiss her, or even acknowledge her. He instead sat motionless on the bench and stared blankly into space.
Amanda didn't wait for Kurt to budge. She sat next to him, lowered her purse to the ground, and extended her arm across the back of the bench.
"What's up?" Amanda asked.
"My father's been summoned to Berlin," Kurt said. "I spoke to him this morning."
Amanda put a hand on Kurt's knee.
"You knew Karl might call sometime soon."
Kurt slowly turned his head and looked at Amanda.
"Karl didn't call. Von Ribbentrop did. He ordered my father to return to Germany by the end of the month to report on his activities at the embassy."
Amanda frowned. She knew that Joachim von Ribbentrop, Foreign Minister of Germany and one of Adolf Hitler's closest advisors, was not a person that anyone could ignore.
"What's your dad going to do?"
"He's going to go back, of course," Kurt said. "He has no choice."
"Has he done something wrong?"
Kurt stared at Amanda with sad, vacant eyes.
"You ask a lot of questions."
"I ask because I want to know what's going on. I care about your father," Amanda said. "Why do his superiors want to talk to him?"
Kurt sighed.
"He didn't say why. I don't know why. I know only that he has never been recalled in the seventeen years he has served in Washington."
"Can he refuse to go?" Amanda asked.
Kurt looked at Amanda like she had asked a stupid, naïve question, the kind of question only a clueless American could ask. He turned away when his eyes began to moisten.
"My mother is in Berlin, Amanda. So is my brother," Kurt said. "The Nazis have all the leverage they need to compel my father to return."
Amanda scolded herself for not seeing the obvious. She wanted to comfort Kurt and perhaps make amends for asking pointless questions, but she didn't know how.
"Is he still in Washington?" Amanda asked.
Kurt nodded.
"He leaves next week. I will drive to D.C. on Wednesday to see him off."
Amanda sighed.
"I'm so sorry, Kurt. I don't know what to say."
Kurt smiled sadly.
"You don't need to say anything."
Amanda leaned back on the bench and gazed at a building in the distance. She saw several young men exit the structure and quietly disperse. She assumed that they were among the few hundred students who attended Princeton during the summer.
"What does this mean for you?" Amanda asked.
Kurt paused for a moment, as if to collect his thoughts. When he finally spoke, he did so clearly, joylessly, and matter-of-factly. He delivered a message Amanda did not want to hear.
"It means I give my notice, pack my bags, and return to Germany."
Amanda pulled her arm from the back of the bench. She clutched Kurt's hand.
"You don't have to go. You can stay here. You can stay here with me."
Kurt looked at Amanda with incredulous eyes.
"Until when? Until you leave for Chicago? I can't stay," Kurt said. "I can't abandon my family any more than you can abandon yours."
Amanda took a deep breath as nausea gripped her midsection. She had no right or reason to feel jilted or blindsided, but she felt that way just the same.
"What are you saying?" Amanda asked. "Are you leaving me?"
Kurt nodded.
"I board a ship in two weeks."
Amanda turned away as tears began to flow. She could not process Kurt's comments. He had hit her too hard and too fast. She needed time to think, to reason, to persuade. She needed an opportunity to save a relationship that had become the most important in her life.
"You could come back. I would wait. I don't have to leave in September."
"Coming back is not an option," Kurt said. "My father will never leave Germany. Nor will my mother. I have no choice but to join them and stay with them. I'm sorry. I love you. I want to be with you, but I can't. We have to end this now."
Amanda wiped away her tears and tried to think. She had come to the campus expecting to meet Kurt for lunch. She had not come expecting to see him for the
last time.
"Give me a chance to work something out," Amanda said.
"There's nothing to work out," Kurt replied. "Prolonging the inevitable will only make matters worse. We have to say goodbye."
Amanda tightened her hold on Kurt's hand, got up from the bench, and gently pulled him to his feet. She grabbed his other hand, turned him toward her, and looked him in the eyes.
"You're right. You have to see your family," Amanda said. "I won't try to stop you. I'll let you go without a fight if you agree to do one thing."
"What's that?"
"Go to Cape May with me."
Kurt frowned.
"I don't think that's a good idea, Amanda. It will only make parting more difficult."
"Please come with me. If we really have to say goodbye, then I want to do it right."
"Is that all you want to do?"
Amanda sighed.
"No."
"What else then?" Kurt asked.
"I want to do something I should have done weeks ago," Amanda said.
"What's that?"
"I want to come clean."
"Come clean?"
"Yes. I want to tell you who I am, where I'm from, and where I belong. I want to tell you all the things you need to know," Amanda said. She sighed. "I want to tell you the truth."
CHAPTER 67: ELIZABETH
Thursday, July 20, 1939
Elizabeth smiled as she watched her favorite girls do their favorite thing. She was glad that Amanda had the strength to hold Lizzie high and spin her around. She knew she could not do the same without dropping the toddler on her head.
"You two look like skaters on ice," Elizabeth said.
"Did you hear that, Lizzie?" Amanda asked. "Grandma said it's time for a throw jump."
"Don't even think about it!"
Amanda lowered the girl and glared at her grandmother, who shared a couch with her mother in Erich and Ella Wagner's spacious but cluttered living room.
"You're no fun."
"I'm responsible," Elizabeth said. "That's better than fun."
"It isn't in my book," Amanda said. "When does Ella get back?"
"Two," Susan said.
Amanda held up Lizzie and rubbed noses with her.
"Then we have an hour to play out front."
"Enjoy yourselves," Susan said.
Amanda secured Lizzie with one arm, picked up a Raggedy Ann doll with the other, and headed for the front door. She opened the door a moment later and disappeared from sight.
"She's in a good mood," Elizabeth said.
"She's in a funny mood," Susan replied.
"What do you mean by that?"
"She's not acting like a girl who's breaking up with her boyfriend."
"Do you want her to whine and wail all week?" Elizabeth asked.
"No," Susan said. "I want her to tell me what she's planning to do."
"You already know. She's planning to do what lovers have done for centuries."
"That's what I'm afraid of."
"She's a grown woman, Susan."
"I know. I'm just afraid that sex will make it harder to move on."
"She'll be fine," Elizabeth said.
"Since when did my elderly mother become a champion of free love?"
Elizabeth sipped tea from a glass, looked at Susan, and smiled.
"Since when did my steamy-romance-writing daughter become a prude?"
Susan laughed.
"Touché."
"Let her have her fun," Elizabeth said. "She's invested more than six months in the boy. She's entitled to a meaningful goodbye."
Elizabeth laughed to herself. She didn't favor free love any more than she favored rabid dogs, but she did favor happy granddaughters and smooth transitions. She wanted Amanda to put Kurt Schmidt behind her as soon as possible and start preparing for the long trip home.
She had nothing against the Schmidt family – at least three quarters of it. She had come to like and respect Heinrich, Johanna, and Kurt and wished them the best. She was truly baffled over the colonel's recent change of fortunes and wondered if she had prejudged him in any way.
Elizabeth regretted sending Geoffrey Bell the greeting card of July 5. She now knew that the German family's "serious transition" was Johanna's illness and Heinrich's transfer to Berlin. She had meddled without cause and hoped she had done nothing more than irritate a professor.
"You're right," Susan said. "Amanda's entitled to handle things her way."
"Is that my daughter talking or the girlfriend of Admiral Hicks?"
"Both."
Elizabeth laughed.
"That's good," Elizabeth said. "I just hope the two women are on the same page in seven weeks. I would hate to see my daughter go through the same pain."
Susan sighed and looked at her mother seriously.
"What makes you think she has to?"
"What are you saying, Susan?"
"You know what I'm saying, Mother."
"We can't take him," Elizabeth said.
"Why not?" Susan asked. "It's not like he has a family or any meaningful ties."
Elizabeth leaned forward.
"That's not the point."
"What is the point?"
Elizabeth sighed.
"The point is that we promised Professor Bell to leave the thirties as we found them. We have an obligation to keep that promise."
"Says who?" Susan asked. "The woman who is altering her own family history?"
"I am doing no such thing."
"How do you know? How do you know you haven't already influenced Erich or Ella or Lizzie in ways that will change their lives?"
"I don't," Elizabeth said.
"That's right. You don't."
"That doesn't mean we can bring someone back."
"You're right. It doesn't," Susan said. "I don't know that this will even be an issue in September. Jack and I have a lot to sort out. I just don't want to rule out anything in advance."
Elizabeth stared at her daughter.
"Just don't say or do anything without talking to me first."
"I won't," Susan said.
"Do you promise?"
"I promise."
"Fair enough," Elizabeth said.
"Do you feel better now?"
"I feel better."
"Then we both feel better," Susan said. "Now let's go check on Lizzie. I suspect your soul mate is due for a diaper change."
CHAPTER 68: AMANDA
Cape May, New Jersey – Saturday, July 22, 1939
Amanda took Kurt's hand as she gazed at the entrance of Delaware Bay. She looked first at a trawler returning to port and then at a reddish sun. Old Sol had begun to set on the bay, the First State, and a nation enjoying one of its last peaceful summers.
"It's beautiful, isn't it?" Amanda asked.
"It is," Kurt said. "I'm glad you brought me here."
"Are you glad I brought you here because of the scenery or because of what I have planned for you later this evening?"
Kurt laughed.
"Both."
"That's a typical male answer," Amanda said.
"Am I a typical male?"
"No. I can honestly say that you're not."
"Why did you bring me here, Amanda?" Kurt asked. "I'm not complaining. I love you and want to spend as much time as I can with you, but all this seems rather pointless now."
"It doesn't have to be."
"What do you mean?"
"I'll tell you in a minute," Amanda said. "Let's walk first."
"All right."
Amanda led Kurt westward along the strip of sand that divided Beach Avenue and the water. To her right lay scores of amusements, hotels, restaurants, and colorful Victorian houses. Though hundreds of tourists from Philadelphia, New York, and elsewhere flooded the streets, Cape May felt like a sleepy seaside town that time had forgotten.
Amanda didn't rush into what she suspected would be a difficult discussion. She wanted to consider every statement and every possible respons
e before saying a word. She knew she would never get another chance to make her case for a shared future.
"Do you remember our conversation at Dot's reception?" Amanda asked.
"Of course."
"Do you remember the question I asked?"
"I do," Kurt said.
"Do you remember your answer?"
Kurt slowed his step.
"I do."
"Do you still feel that way? Could you give up everything for me?"
"I could under the right circumstances."
"That's what you said before," Amanda said.
"I know."
"That's what I want to talk about now."
"What do you mean?" Kurt asked.
"I want you to define the 'right circumstances.'"
"I'm not sure I can."
"Try," Amanda said.
"Why? The question is hypothetical."
Amanda stopped, took a breath, and prepared to cross the line. She turned to face Kurt.
"It's not hypothetical anymore."
"What do you mean?"
"I'm a time traveler, Kurt."
"You're a what?"
"I'm a time traveler. I'm from the future. I'm from a time so different than this one it would make your head spin."
Kurt laughed.
"You're from the future?"
"I am," Amanda said.
"Is this a joke?"
"No. It's not a joke. I'm from the year 2016. I walked through a magic tunnel in California ten months ago and popped out in 1938. I was born on September 18, 1994. I grew up in an age of cell phones and computers and drones and things people today can't even imagine."
"You can't be serious," Kurt said.
Amanda looked at Kurt and sank when she saw the amusement on his face. She didn't know why she had expected a different reaction, but she did. She felt stupid, silly, and lost. When she glanced again at Kurt, she realized the futility of her mission and dissolved into tears.
"I am serious. Would I be crying if I wasn't?"
"No. I suppose not."
Kurt said no more. He instead pulled Amanda close, wrapped her in his arms, and held her tightly for the next few minutes. He released his grip when she gently pushed him away.
"You don't believe me, do you?" Amanda asked.
Kurt sighed.
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