Epilogue.
"Colonel Hogan!"
Part of Minna's mind felt the voice was familiar, but she was half asleep, and disinclined to get up to investigate it, whoever it was. The umbrella provided ample shade, and the constant breeze off the water prevented her from sweating too much, but it was still hot on the beach. She'd been against the idea, at first, but Robert had twisted her arm, and she had to admit the trip was, in fact, doing her some good. It was nice to get away from that office now and then, and her boss, as always, had warned her if she didn't take her allotment of vacation days, they'd disappear at the end of the year.
The California seaside was still hot enough in September. It was also less crowded, as most of the families with a lot of screaming-age children were already back home in time for the beginning of the school year.
"Haven't been called that in years, Robert will do fine. And who's this?"
"Oh, my little granddaughter, Gretchen..."
"...Hm, well kids can be shy at that age, it's okay. Is your wife with you?"
"Oh, uh, no. She passed a few years ago, just weeks before her namesake here was born, I'm afraid. My son invited me to come along, they finally saved up enough for a family trip. He and his wife went into town to do some shopping but they'll return in a few hours, I'm sure. I'll introduce you, if you like."
"How are things, anyway? It's been, what, five years?"
"Just about, I think? And things are better. The factory is finally back to its former capacity, although we had to move the location, what with... well, you know."
"Yeah, the Soviets aren't exactly known for being business-friendly... but, well, I'm glad things are up and running for you. I actually saw a few of your products on the shelf the other day, Minna's nephew has a kid now, and she's determined to turn him into a spoiled brat, picked up some sort of cutesy stuffed critter of yours for him, a toy puppy I think."
"Er... Minna? Who? Oh, you don't mean-"
Minna's mind finally clicked back into the world of the waking and she sat up, pulling the sunglasses off to stare up into the face of none other than Hans Schultz, standing in the sand in a pair of striped swimming trunks and sandals with a little blonde-headed girl, maybe three years of age, tucked into one elbow, hiding her face against his broad chest. Schultz was somewhat thinner than when she'd last seen him (or maybe was just wearing significantly fewer layers), but otherwise seemed little-changed by the last five years, other than the addition of a few more creases to his face. She couldn't recall the date of birth in his old personnel file, but he had to be around 65 at this point, being roughly a decade older than herself. He looked hale enough for a man of his age, at least.
Minna had never returned to Europe after the war, not even for a short visit. The stories trickling over and relayed through various fellow expats in the States she'd met in the immediate aftermath had been anything but encouraging, especially rumors coming out of the eastern regions now under Soviet control. Too many of the soldiers had clearly been determined to take their pound of flesh, and more, out of their conquered enemy, and as usual it was the women who had undoubtedly suffered the worst of their wrath. She'd fretted over the fates of various acquaintances in those first couple of years, and Robert had repeatedly needed to remind her it wasn't something she could fix or change, so go to sleep already and stop pacing at 2 in the morning. Her immediate family were all safe, at any rate. Her brother's son, Karl, had married a local girl the previous year and they'd had their first child soon after (too soon, by her arithmetic, but at least Karl had had enough decency to not abandon the girl). The Klink line would be American now, she supposed, its centuries-old history discarded somewhere over the Atlantic, but she couldn't really be bothered to care that much about it. Her father was the one who'd obsessed over such matters, and he was years dead, his grave back in Germany tended now only by the crows, if by anyone.
Minna lifted an eyebrow at her former sergeant-of-the-guard, and ran a hand through her shoulder-length salt-and-pepper hair, dislodging a somewhat alarming amount of sand.
Schultz laughed nervously, shifting from one foot to another in the sand. "K-Kommandant! Gosh, I didn't recognize you... You know, I'd heard, uh, about you being, ah..."
Minna laughed at him, somewhat unkindly, and he turned a rather impressive shade of scarlet, the blush suffusing even his neck and upper chest. "A woman? Tch. You can call me Minna, by the way, everyone else does these days. Wilhelm Klink only appears for special occasions." She barely stopped herself from winking at the flustered man to embarrass him further, not that it was likely he'd have any clue what she was referring to, although Robert's brief snort beside her made it clear he certainly did. She'd been around Robert for too long, clearly, and his annoying habits were rubbing off on her terribly. Schultz continued to dither and was starting to get on her nerves at this point. "Sit down already, the umbrella's large enough for all of us, even you."
Robert shrugged at Schultz, who shrugged back at Robert, and he plopped down next to her on their collection of beach towels after moving a large picnic basket out of the way. The three year old Gretchen slid from his shoulder onto his lap, settling herself comfortably against him to stare out at the ocean, fighting afternoon drowsiness and likely to lose that battle soon, by Minna's estimation.
All four of them stared out at the ocean for a while, the silence filled with the wind, the waves, and a plethora of screaming sea birds. Minna watched the toddler out of the corner of her eye as she slowly drooped, succumbing to sleep within minutes, completely secure in her grandfather's grasp.
Her own earlier lassitude returned and she yawned, laying back down and stretching herself out again. She was on vacation, after all, and even Schultz wasn't going to interfere with her plans, if she had anything to say about it. After a while, Robert stretched out beside her and even Schultz, after some hesitation, laid himself out on the other side, still holding onto his granddaughter. She rolled over to lay her head on Robert's shoulder and throw a leg over one of his, determined to make herself as comfortable as the three year old.
She used to care what other people thought, but those days were long past. Schultz could stay or go as he pleased. She didn't even care, anymore, about the scars on her back and legs, and had taken to telling nosy strangers on the beach that she used to wrestle alligators for a living. She still had an accent, but it was subtle enough that people rarely picked up on it, and she could mimic Robert's Midwestern accent almost flawlessly when she put a bit of effort into it.
"I, ah, didn't realize the two of you had married." Schultz chuckled to himself, the whole thing apparently amusing to him. "Not what I would have guessed!"
Minna shrugged. They hadn't actually married, but she wasn't in the mood to try and explain that to Schultz, and if Robert wasn't going to say anything, she wasn't either. She'd stayed with Robert for year, and then had gotten her own apartment. She liked having her own space, and Robert was terribly messy and disorganized. She still spent a great deal of time at Robert's place, though, often staying entire weekends, but she wasn't about to start mopping his floors or ironing his shirts (she didn't even like mopping her own floors, and even spent a bit of money on a maid who came in once a week to deal with it and a few other chores, so she wouldn't have to).
Sure, it wasn't the done thing, and her mother was perennially horrified by their relationship, but that was another thing she'd ceased to care about. She was too old to repeat the mistake of her nephew's wife. Any notions of childbearing, intentional or otherwise, were well gone at this point, given that her "monthlies" had become "once-in-a-while-ies" during the last couple years of the war, and had disappeared entirely about a year ago. What would be the point? Filing a joint tax return? It would have saved a bit of money, maybe, that was about it. Robert still disappeared occasionally, and she had no illusions about what he got up to. She didn't care much about that, either, as long he took adequate precautions. They'd already had that discussion, in depth, and she'd made her requirements clear, and so far he'd heeded them.
When Minna awoke, the sun had shifted, and her legs were turning a bit red below the knees where the umbrella no longer provided adequate shade. She'd actually put on something resembling a tan over the past week, but her skin still clearly had its limits. Robert and Schultz were in a similar state, and both still snoring away. She sat up, shaking at Robert until he woke, then nudged Schultz in the ribs, which did nothing to Schultz, but woke Gretchen who then woke her snoring grandfather by poking him in the face and giggling.
They all stood and stretched, and Minna brushed the sand off her skin, shaking even more of it out of her hair. She'd stayed on the towels but it somehow seemed to get everywhere regardless. It took only a minute to gather up the towels and roll them into a bundle under her arm.
Robert pulled the umbrella up and picked up the picnic basket as well before turning to Schultz. "There's a steakhouse down the road that Minna and I were planning on having dinner at, if you and your family would like to join us."
Hmph, didn't ask me if I wanted them coming, she thought, but merely rolled her eyes. She didn't actually mind Schultz, and his family were probably pleasant enough, but Robert had a habit of inviting people along without asking her if she wanted the company, and it never failed to annoy her.
"Oh, certainly. I'll ask my son and his wife, and see if they've made plans yet. They should be back at the house we rented by now, anyway."
The restaurant was nothing special, standard meat-and-potatoes fare, but that didn't bother her. She & Robert had already eaten there twice earlier in the week, as it was in walking distance of their hotel. American dining was rarely anything special, anyway, unless you wanted to pay a great deal of money. The previous year, Louis LeBeau had dropped in for a week, and she'd been able to have a bit of genuine French cooking for the first time since the war, although the man had insisted the ingredients from the local supermarket were no better than what they'd had in the prison. Otherwise, she was plenty accustomed to the local cuisine.
Schultz had openly stared at her for only a brief moment when she walked in wearing a stolen pair of Robert's trousers, the cuffs rolled up to account for the three-inch difference in their heights, paired with a loose-fitting, airy blouse her sister in law had given her the previous Christmas. Perhaps he'd been expecting her to show up in a dress, but she couldn't be bothered. She was on vacation, after all, and why it was such a big deal to some people was something she still hadn't figured out. Even without the pressure of spy work and overly-affectionate generals, she'd never learned to how be comfortable in the damn things again, and at this point she had to concede she probably never would. Whatever.
Schultz eventually shook himself out of his shock and introduced his son and daughter-in-law, who did a much better job of not acting like fools. Little Gretchen had smiled and waved at her from her high chair, apparently over the shyness of earlier in the day.
Minna put in her order and sat back, letting Robert deal with the conversation, filling in Schultz on the past five years and telling all his usual jokes to a new audience. They didn't talk about the war, and for that Minna was grateful; Robert, at least, knew better than to bring it up, and Schultz apparently was of a similar mind. It was in the past. It was over. Let it remain buried there.
The food arrived, mediocre but filling, and they ate companionably, then parted ways. Schultz gave Robert a hug, then turned to her, hesitating. Minna stiffened momentarily when Schultz finally grabbed her as well, then she gave in and returned it as the rotund former guard nearly lifted her off of her feet in a bear hug. She'd always thought Schultz had hated her, but maybe his dislike hadn't been as deep as she'd assumed. Maybe his opinion of her had changed after the war. Who knew? It didn't matter.
They traded addresses, intending to write at some point, then wandered out into the warm evening air. The world was far from safe, and the news was endlessly full of predictions of atomic doom, but it wasn't her problem to solve anymore, and thank God for that.
