he following weeks brought several changes. The first was a change to my shift at work. I had wanted more hours, and I was informed that I would be working the later shift from noon to ten. This was difficult news; it meant that I would no longer be able to meet Papa for the meal we had shared for so many years, either at 1:00 as we had done before my job, or at 5:00 as we had done for the last year.
"Kati, Liebling, that is how it goes. We will simply eat our lunch together earlier instead," Papa said philosophically. I hugged him. He's been so supportive.
The next day I arrived at our bench at 11, and Papa and I sat in the January cold enjoying hot soup and each other's company. Since I hadn't seen any of the boys to tell them about my new schedule, it was just the two of us. I had to admit that it was pretty nice; I had missed these times alone with Papa. We had no newspaper to discuss, but it was fun just talking. I told him about how Spot had kissed me. He just smiled knowingly.
"Ja, Kati, this is not a surprise," he said. Switching to German, he continued. "And what do you feel about this?"
"I don't know," I answered honestly. "I want to be his friend. I love spending time with him. But I get nervous at the thought of being somebody's girl," I answered honestly. "And I know he's had girls before me; he has a reputation among the boys, according to Ingrid, and I saw him kissing a girl on New Year's, but that might just have been a midnight kiss."
"Ah, Katja, you are young. You have time. You are not anybody's girl. You are Katja.—a person, not property. You must remember that it is okay to do what makes you happy as long as it is also what is right. Spot is a good man, but there are many men. You can have many suitors. But always remember that even if you do not want to be with Spot, he is your friend, first. Red, too, and the other boys. Always be friends, ja?"
"I don't think Spot thinks of me as property," I said, feeling a bit defensive.
"This is true. I think our Spot sees you very much as his friend. Perhaps he is also afraid. He might wish to keep his friend and not risk the romance. Remember, he is doing his best, just like you. You be his friend, and the rest you will figure out with him," Papa said, shrugging.
"Thank you, Papa," I said, giving him a kiss on the cheek. Papa had an answer for everything. "I just wish Mama were here. I wonder what she would have said."
Papa looked wistful. "I miss her, too, Katja. She would have been proud to see the young lady you are becoming. Now, you go on and make your new boss proud. Do as you're told and finish everything he has you start. I will be there to pick you up tonight," he said. I hugged him and headed off to work.
The new job came with a new supervisor. He was in his mid 30s, and his name was Mr. Santorelli.
"Ah, Katie," he said after we'd been introduced. "Good to meet you. I look forward to getting to know you, and I know you'll be a good girl, eh?"
"Yes, sir," I said, trying hard not to stare at the floor. I managed a shy smile. I am definitely getting better at this. It irritated me that he called me Katie, but I didn't want to upset him on my first day by saying anything, even if I'd had the courage.
That evening when I left work, it was dark. As the cleaning lady, I was the last person to leave for the night. I hadn't realized how late it would be and how quiet the streets were at that time of night. I shuddered a bit, thinking of the incident last summer, when I spotted Papa and Jimmy waiting to walk me home. I hugged Papa, and we set off for home. As we walked, we talked of our days. He had explained my absence to the boys, several of whom had dropped by. I told him about the girl in the afternoon shift who had broken her arm tripping over a chair. Thankfully she had not been seriously hurt, but she had been fired. I worried about something like that every day. We could not afford for me to lose my job.
Within a week Papa and I had settled into a new routine. I would buy the last of the morning papers from Spot, and the three of us would settle into our bench for an early lunch. I began bringing food for all three of us. Every night after work someone would walk me home—sometimes Papa, sometimes Spot or Red, occasionally one of the other older boys. Red even invited me to a vaudeville show on my day off in late January. I enjoyed it immensely, but when Red kissed me at the end of the night, I simply pulled away shyly. I just wasn't interested in Red that way. He apologized, and I assured him he hadn't done anything wrong and that we were still friends. He made me promise not to tell Spot, reminding me of the day we had met and how Spot had almost soaked him. I laughed and agreed. The one sad spot that winter was Ingrid. She had finished school and was working for a nearby bookstore, but her hours were the opposite of mine. As a result we rarely saw each other anymore, and I missed her. Overall, though, things were not bad.
In mid-February, Maus died. Papa and I had not saved nearly enough for another horse, so this was a huge problem for us. Papa told me not to worry; something would work out. I was telling Muriel at work about it the next day, when Mr. Santorelli walked by. That evening he called me into his office as the shift was ending.
"Katie, I hear your family needs some money for a horse," he said, and I nodded, my head down. He stroked my hair as he so frequently did, then nodded once. "You're a good girl, Katie. I can loan you the money. You can pay me a bit at a time out of your paycheck every week, and I'll give you the money for the horse. That way I know I keep my best employee, and you and your papa can make ends meet."
I didn't know what to say. I had never really liked Mr. Santorelli much. Something about him made me uncomfortable, even if he was never anything but polite and kind to me. I actually wondered why I kept judging him; I tried not to. But I couldn't ignore this act of kindness. "I—thank you," was all I managed. He smiled, opened a safe in the wall, and pulled out fifty dollars. I gaped and thanked him again, and he just pulled me into a crushing bear hug.
Papa was there to pick me up. I told him about Mr. Santorelli and handed him the money. He sighed. "Katja, I do not like being in debt, but I must confess that I am grateful to your Herr Santorelli. He must be a good man to give us so much money simply because you are a good girl. I am proud of you."
By the end of the week, Papa had business up and running. I was relieved, and within a month we were able to make our first payment of five dollars towards what we owed on the debt. During this time I also tried to do a bit of extra work for Mr. Santorelli. He seemed to genuinely like me. He also really liked clean windows, so I was constantly shining them. Sometimes he would lean over me as I checked my reflection in them, and then he would smile at my reflection before returning to his job. Yep, life had once again settled into a routine.
