He shrugs. “They’re young lovers. We’re young—” He stops himself from saying the word. We’re not lovers anymore.
“That was part of it, of course. But the real reason is because the sculptor, Georg Ehrlich, had to escape Austria for Britain. His wife joined him later. She brought much of his art with her. Saved it from the Nazis. They made a life here together, in a country that wasn’t their own.”
He stares at me curiously. Confused. It’s like I’m speaking an alien tongue he can’t decipher. His hieroglyphic old love. Speaking in incomprehensible fantasies. “Do you seriously think a Jewish couple fleeing persecution isromantic? You’re more twisted than you ever were.”
“No, I—I never said it was—romantic. But it is—” I stumble over my words. I need to explain myself to him. “It’s a testament to the power of two people to survive. Together. Because their love was their strength.”
“You don’t know that. Maybe their faith was their strength. Or his art. You always think you know things you couldn’t possibly know.”
“Like what you wanted sixty years ago....”
“Yes.” He doesn’t say any more.
“Still, they made a beautiful life despite the greatest odds. We can too.”
“Can we?”
“I thought of you every day. Wanted to share every mundane detail of my life with you. And the big things. I always needed to know where you were. What you thought. Vietnam. The moon landing. World War II.”
“I thought of signing up to serve.” Melancholy swirls around him. His eyes emit little fireflies of sorrow. “Figured I’d make quite the Allied soldier. Nazis can’t kill me, can they? Then I thought of all the medical exams the military performs. The questions they might ask when a submachine gun fails to kill me. I realized I can’t even serve my country. If it was even my country then. By World War II, I had long deserted America.”
“Let me be your country.” I pull him into a hug. “A country with no rules. No laws. No border lines.”
“But you’re not a country. You’ll always be the person who made me this way.”
I take a deep breath. Exhale. “Whenever a man does a thoroughly stupid thing, it is always from the noblest motives.”
He scrunches his face in annoyance. “Stop quoting Wilde. Just because he said something doesn’t make it true.”
“So you know your Wilde as well as I do.”
He nods. “You think I haven’t scoured his writing for some sign of why this happened to us?”
I smile. “I’ve done the same.” Then: “Don’t you see that I’m the only person you can confess all this to? The only person you can be yourself with?”
“I don’t know if I want to be myself is the problem.” He tucks his chin. His graceful neck slumps. “Don’t know if I even know who I am.”
“Then let me remind you. I know who you are. I’m sure of us, still.” My heartbeat skips. “Are you still unsure?” I want an immediate answer. I don’t get one. “That’s a very long and concerning pause.”
“You ruined my life.” He doesn’t say it with anger. More with acceptance.
“I know that now.” I swallow hard. “I didn’t know then—I couldn’t know... How deeply you loved your mother. It wasn’t until I met Lily that I knew how fiercely one could love their family. Now I understand. Your mother—”
“Please let’s talk about anything but Mother.” His voice chokes up. “All these years... all this time... and she’s still my biggest regret.”
“You have nothing to regret. It’s all my fault.”
“But I do.” He sighs. “For years after leaving, I would write her letters with no return address. Just telling her I was fine and that she ought not to worry. I debated creating an elaborate lie. Telling her I was studying music in Europe. That I had married a woman. Had children of my own. But lies lead to more lies. Evasion is a stronger tactic.”
“I’ve learned the same lesson.”
He takes in a long breath. “The last letter I sent her was a decade before she died. I told her I loved her. I told her not towaste another thought on me. But I begged her to keep me in her prayers.”
“I’m sure she did.”
His eyes look to me desperately. “How can you be so sure? What if she cursed me in the end? Hated me?”
“She didn’t. She couldn’t. You’re impossible to hate.”
