“Yes?” she called and I opened the door. “Oh. Hi, Kate. Did you get your letter?”
“I did,” I said, holding it up. “Edith said a man dropped it off? What man?”
She shrugged. “He didn’t leave his name. He said he was a friend of your uncle’s and that he had a small care package from your aunt to give you. But he didn’t want to leave it with me.” She shrugged and then her eyes went wide. “Oh! And he left an address.” She stood and patted her hips, and then remembered she was in a nightgown and grabbed her uniform trousers and pulled a slip of paper free.
“Here it is,” she said, handing it to me. “This is where he’s staying. He said you can get in contact with him there. He’ll be in town for the week.”
I stared down at the paper. Lee Baker, it read, along with an address of a hotel in the next town over, and the dates confirming what Luella had just said. A memory pushed its way to the front of my mind. I knew his name somehow; I just couldn’t recall why.
“Thanks,” I said, staring at the paper as I backed out of the room and shut the door.
“Whatcha got there?” Hazel asked as I entered our room, William and my aunt’s letters in one hand, the slip of paper Luella had handed me in the other.
“A friend of my uncle’s is in town. This is the address to where he’s staying.”
“Ooh. Is he handsome? Young? Does he maybe want a tour of the nearby towns from a local?”
I peeled my gaze from the slip of paper, the name Lee Baker nagging at me, and stared at my roommate who had struck an alluring pose.
“You’re not a local,” I said.
“He doesn’t know that,” she said, putting on a terrible version of a British accent.
I laughed.
“Well, if he’s in the market, I’ll be sure to tell him about your offer.”
“Perfect. Because the boys around here are getting dull. All they talk about are the Jerries and their itchy feet.”
I snorted, set the letters down on my bed, grabbed my pajamas, and went to stand in line for the bathroom.
A half hour later I was midshampoo when it hit me. Lee Baker was the name of a man my uncle worked with. A fuzzy memory tried to make its way in. A tall man with sandy colored hair and a nice but forgettable face. It wasn’t until I was safely moved into their home in Manhattan that I learned more of my aunt and uncle’s many secrets. The work they’d continued to do from the States, the lives they’d saved, including my own, and the things I’d need to store away, either physically or in my mind, for what my aunt liked to call “Just in case moments.” One of which was, “Should we ever need to get information to you, we’ll send it by way of Lee Baker. That’s how you’ll know it’s from us and it’s to be believed.”
My heart gave a little lurch.
Lee Baker wouldn’t have come if it wasn’t important. He must have the items I’d requested from my aunt.
I hurriedly rinsed my hair, dried off, put on my clothes, and ran past the others waiting for the bathroom to my bedroom and my aunt’s waiting letter.
“That was fast,” Hazel said when I returned to the room.
“There’s quite a line tonight,” I said, sitting on my bed and ripping open the envelope. “I felt bad making them wait too long.”
“You’re too nice. I take my damn time. After what we go through? We deserve a relaxing shower.”
I shook my head and unfolded the single page I’d been sent, my eyes flying over the words.
“My Sweet Niece,” the letter began.
Her words were careful. She’d received my letter, was glad to hear I was well and hoped William was safe. A tidbit of life in New York, and a casual mention of “a dear old friend of your uncle’s and mine will be in the area. We told him to look you up. I’ve entrusted him with a small package from home for you. I hope it finds you well.”
Her sign-off was warm, if not formal, and that was it. One page instead of her usual three or four. It was unlike her, but I had a feeling there was a good reason she was being so cautious.
Tucking the letter back in its envelope, my heart racing in my chest, I slid beneath the covers and prayed for morning to hurry up and arrive.
“You’re quiet today,” Theodore shouted over the noise of the engines as we flew toward France, puffy white clouds like wisps of cotton floating past the window nearest us.
I shrugged and gave him a smile. “Just tired.”
