“Adam? What is it?” Laurel dropped the brush into the bucket and stood. “Adam?”
Adam took a deep breath. His body felt tight. What would he say? How could he tell her about Elisa? “Can we sit?”
Laurel crossed to the table and sat.
Adam did the same, sitting across from her. He rested his arms on the table and clasped his hands. He stared at them, then straightened the tablecloth and smoothed a wrinkle.
Laurel waited.
Finally he looked at her. The hazel eyes he loved were trusting and filled with concern. Concern for me, he thought, shrinking back and telling himself she didn't have to know.
She placed a hand over his. “Adam?”
He gazed at her hand. The nails were neatly trimmed, the fingers long and slender. She doesn't deserve this. He forced himself to look at her. “I have to tell you something.”
“What is it?” Laurel gently squeezed his hand. “Is it about the war?”
Her uncompromising support only made Adam feel worse. He abruptly pulled his hand free and walked to the kitchen window.
“You can tell me anything. Please. Maybe I can help.”
“No. You can't help.” Adam turned and faced her. “And stop being so nice. I don't deserve it.”
Laurel's expression registered surprise. She straightened her back and folded her hands on the table in front of her.
“What I have to say is about the war and it isn't.” Adam leaned against the counter and folded his arms over his chest. “It was awful over there. Not just for me and the other Americans and the Brits, but for the French too. They've lost their country, their homes. The Germans invaded and conquered,” he said derisively. “German soldiers are everywhere. No one's safe, especially not the Jews. If they're caught, they're thrown into extermination camps and killed...even the women and children.”
Laurel gasped.
Adam knew he was laying down reasons for his behavior when he had no excuses. “Anyway, never mind that. After my plane went down, I managed to make it to the ground without getting shot.” He hesitated. “I met a woman and her little boy. Her name is Elisa, and her son's name is Adin. She wanted to help, and she needed help. She and Adin were hiding from the Germans. They're Jews. Adin's only three.” Adam's heart softened at the thought of the boy. “He's small—never had enough to eat. He's got big brown eyes and a sweet personality. Every time I looked at him I thought of William.” Adam knew he was avoiding the heart of what he had to say.
Laurel offered him a gentle smile and started to speak.
“No. Let me finish.” Talking about it had brought everything back, only more clearly. The people, the place, the fear felt close. “Elisa spoke English, and she helped me. She knew her way through France.”
Adam returned to the table and sat. “Actually, Elisa and I helped each other. She was hiding and looking for a way out of the country. Her husband had already been captured and was probably dead. If the Germans found her and Adin, they would kill them. I had a rifle, plus I think Elisa saw Americans as the ones who would save her people. She felt bound to me.”
“Are Elisa and Adin all right? Did they make it out?”
Adam nodded and wondered whether he should say anything more. She wouldn't know what had really happened if he left things as they were, but all he had to do was look into Laurel's trusting eyes and know she deserved the truth. He reached out and grasped her hand. “I love you. You know that.”
“Of course,” Laurel said, her tone tight.
Adam kissed her hand. “Elisa and I spent a lot of time together. In fact, we ended up working for a farmer who helped us and gave us the name of the man, Jacques Billaud, who got us out.” Arnaude's face and jovial personality filled his mind. He and his family were certainly dead by now. He felt sick. “Before we could connect with Jacques, German soldiers arrested the farmer and his family.”
Laurel turned pale. “What happened to them?”
“They were suspected of hiding Jews and were probably executed.”
Tears filled Laurel's eyes.
“Elisa and I hid with Adin until the soldiers left. After that we were on our own, but we still had to find a way out of France.” He shook his head. “Elisa and I got close...really close.” He let the sentence hang.
Understanding dawned on Laurel's face. The color drained from her face and her jaw squared. “How close, Adam?”
Adam compressed his lips as if he could prevent the truth from being told. “She told me she loved me.”
Laurel's finger's rubbed the surface of the table. “And what did you feel?”
Adam met her eyes. “For a while I thought I might love her, but I didn't, not really.” He hurried on. “Nothing happened...I did kiss her...once, but I never stopped loving you. I always loved you, always thought of you.”
For an explosive moment, Laurel said nothing. Her face was expressionless. Finally she blurted, “So, while you were kissing her, you were thinking of me?” She pressed her palms together in her lap and stared at the floor. Then she stood, walked to the wash bucket, seized the brush, and returned to scrubbing.
Adam watched her for a long while, then said, “Laurel, please. Say something.” He crossed to her and kneeled in front of her. She scrubbed around him. “Please. Say something.”
All of a sudden, Laurel sat back on her heals, allowing the brush to rest in her lap. She stared straight ahead, took a gulping breath, then finally looked at him. Her eyes brimmed with tears. “What do you want me to say?”
Adam was silent for a moment. He couldn't look at her. “That you forgive me. That you love me.”
Laurel leaned on the brush, grinding it into the floor. “I never believed you could do such a thing.” She met his eyes. “Why?”
“I don't know. I was lonely, afraid—”
“And I wasn't? Do you know what it was like? I waited. Day after day, wondering if you were alive. I was alone and afraid too.” She pushed to her feet and threw the brush at the pail. It bounced off the side and dropped to the floor. “You went off to write about the war. Instead you...instead...Were there others?”
“No. Of course not.”
“I remember how you were before...when I first met you. You were always after some woman! I thought you had changed!” She headed for the door. “I can't stay in this house! When William wakes up, take him to my mother's.” She yanked open the door, then whirled around and glared at Adam. “I never want to see you again!”
