Presents

Grandma and Grandpa give me a birthday party, too. My parents and Sharon have come down from Wade to also wish me a happy get-out-of-their-life-forever day. My aunts and uncles have also come.

Mother gives me a new hat, and Sharon gives me the most expensive and most fashionable dress Mother would let her buy. Sharon may be the standard to which my parents hold me, the standard I will never be able to achieve, but she still is nice, and we love each other.

Father doesn't give me anything. He's never forgiven me, for, well, everything, but especially for Anton. I don't think he ever wants to see me again after today. I don't think I ever want him to, either.

Grandma gives me a pearl necklace and earrings set. They are real pearls, too. Mother doesn't like this, but Sharon thinks it's delightful, and says so.

Mother and Father go to bed early, and they drag a very reluctant Sharon with them. Everyone else stays up much later. But eventually they all go home, and Grandma and Grandpa and I are the only ones left.

Grandma and I are sitting at the kitchen table drinking hot chocolate after cleaning up, when Grandpa walks in. There is a spring in his step and a smile on his face that says that something's up. He is the only person who has not yet given me his present, so I have a good guess as to what he's holding behind his back.

He sits down at the round oak table. Grandma's smiling now, too.

"Patty," he begins, "Mamma and I have been discussing, and we thought that, since you're officially a woman now, and you'll be going into college soon, and you're always talking about traveling, that you should see the world a bit before you begin school."

And from behind his back he pulls out an unsealed envelope and hands it to me. I take it with shaking hands, then slowly open it. Inside is a bus ticket to New York, a boat ticket to England, a house address (where I would stay with friends of the family), several hundred dollars, tickets for a visit to Paris, and boat and bus tickets taking me back home after three months.

I look at the day for the first bus ticket. It is a Monday. In fact, it is this Monday.

Tears come to my eyes, and there is no way on earth that I could stop them. It was too much. I didn't deserve this. I'd been nothing but a burden on them for the past five years. If anything, I deserved a kick right out the front door, followed by a call to, "Find some other place to live."

I cried. Through blurry eyes I could see Grandma and Grandpa looking worriedly, first at each other, then at me.

"Patty?" Grandma called quietly.

I hiccupped. "W-Why?"

"Why what, dear?"

"Why are you being so, so nice? I don't deserve this." Hiccup.

"Oh," Grandma crooned, pulling me into her arms, cradling me. "Oh, oh, oh. Sweetie, you deserve this just as much as the next person. Even more so, in our opinion, and that's why we're giving it to you."

I hiccupped again. "But- But it's so much." There was no answer to that, which caused another sob, and a hiccup.

Finally, "Yes, it is a lot, but it is worth every cent." She pulled away and held my face in both hands, staring me straight in the eye. "Do you understand? Every single cent."

Grandpa had rested a large wrinkled hand on my knee, offering the best comfort he could. I gave another sob, but my weeping was starting to ease up. The hiccups, however, increased in intensity. Grandpa got me a glass of water.

By the time I had calmed down, I was beginning to smile. I gave them both hugs, and Grandma said I should get to bed, as I would be packing all day tomorrow. I hugged them both again, tightly, and headed to my room.

Once there, my brain began to rush. Europe. I was going to Europe. When I first realized this, immediately I knew.

Germany.

I could go to Göttingen. I could visit Anton's parents. I could-

I could not.

A visit to the home of Nazism would not be looked favorably upon by those who knew of my past association with Anton. Not to mention that the whole trip, including the visit to Paris, would surely be under the watchful eyes of the English family I was to stay with. A young girl does not travel alone in such a dangerous world.

But what if I could. I would call them up, and they would invite me over, and I would show them his ring as proof. And they would cry, and then I would admit that I loved their son very much. And Mrs. Reiker would go get a spare picture of Anton, a small one, and give it to me in thanks. And I would take the picture and buy a locket and wear him next to my heart.

I was silly, I told myself. For a moment I sounded just like the love-struck child I had been at twelve. An adult does not talk like that.

But what if there was a way? A way to visit Germany, undetected, unnoticed. I scoffed at myself. It was not possible.

Still, as I prepared for bed, my mind ran through scenarios. I began planning. Planning couldn't hurt, right? It wasn't as if I was serious. Mostly.

I was exhausted, and the pillows felt so good. Plans put aside, I let my mind think of Anton, and only Anton. Too often had I dreamt of him, both when I was awake and asleep. Awake, though, I was at least able to keep my thoughts in check. But at night, the darkest corners of my mind stepped forward and unleashed their torrent of images, unbidden.

Tonight was no exception.

A/N: You like so far? If not, stop reading. Anywho, Summer of My German Soldier belongs to Bette Greene, etc. etc.