Page 63 of All We Thought We Knew

“Is that Mr. Schneider?”

I nearly jumped out of my skin and whirled to find his attentionfocused on Gunther’s retreating back. When he looked at me, I felt like a child caught doing something naughty.

“Yes,” I said, attempting to sound normal. “I ran into him at the mess hall.”

Which was true, for the most part.

He didn’t say more, so I turned and entered the building. He followed and went directly to his office and closed the door.

Bren peeked over her shoulder at me. “Where have you been?” she whispered. “This is the third day in a row you haven’t eaten with us.”

I rolled a sheet of paper into the Underwood typewriter on my desk. “I haven’t been to the PX this week, and Gertrude doesn’t want me to take leftovers for lunch anymore. She says Ivy Lee is paying rent, so she gets first dibs.”

Again, that was true. Gertrude had indeed told Ivy Lee she was welcome to make her lunch from anything she found in the refrigerator. She’d also insinuated that I could have whatever was left, which was usually bologna.

However, I didn’t want anyone—not Bren, the other secretaries, or especially Colonel Foster—becoming suspicious about my friendship with Gunther. Tomorrow I’d let him know we would need to limit our lunches to twice a week. But I’d also had an idea spring to mind today when we were together, and I wanted to talk to him about it as soon as possible.

That conversation had to wait.

Gunther didn’t come to the mess hall the next day, then I had to work through lunch on Friday to process a rush requisition for supplies. When the clock struck noon on Monday, I practically ran from the office to the mess hall, anxious to see if he was there.

Relief washed through me when I spotted the familiar green in the corner.

I hurried through the line, not even caring that the meal todaywas chipped beef on toast with a side of peas. When I reached the table, I was out of breath.

“Mrs. Delaney,” he said, concern in his blue eyes as he stood. “Are you all right?”

I laughed. “Yes, but I was worried about you. Why weren’t you here last Thursday?”

“There was an emergency at the dispensary. I came the following day, but you were not here. I too worried.”

We shared a grin. “Aren’t we a couple of sillies. But,” I said, sobering, “I think it best if we limit our lunch meetings.” I glanced around, and although no one seemed to take notice of us, I felt nervous. “I wouldn’t want anyone to get the wrong impression.”

Gunther’s gaze passed over the large room filled with military and hospital personnel. When we settled in our seats, he leaned forward and spoke in a low tone.

“I do not wish to bring trouble to you. I will understand if you would rather not come again.”

“I don’t want to stop meeting,” I hurried to say. I couldn’t help the smile that came to my lips when I added, “I enjoy our time together.”

My reward was the light that came into his eyes. “As do I.”

I looked down at the unappetizing food on my plate. “I think I’ll probably do more talking today than eating.”

He laughed. “It tastes gooder than it looks.”

His use of the incorrect word reminded me of my idea. “I want to ask you about something. You said a friend of your mother’s tutored you in English, and it certainly shows. You have a wonderful command of the language, considering it’s not native to you.”

His attention on me never faltered. “Thank you. Sometimes, though, I struggle with how to pronounce English words correctly. I know my German accent is difficult to understand for some.”

“Would you like to continue to study English? I could help. I’m not a teacher, but—”

“Yes.”

His quick answer made me smile. “I hoped you’d say that.”

“How would we accomplish this?” He glanced around the noisy room, then faced me again. “It is difficult to hear your voice even now.”

He was right, of course.