CLAIRE LOUNGED ON THE COUCH in the center of a room full of guests. They once again littered her family's sitting room, sipping cordials and digesting their extravagant dinner. Her aunt and Sarry flanked her, keeping her safe from Eddie's fast hands. Unfortunately, that didn't save her from his dominating conversation. He sat in a chair nearby, leaning in close and not stopping to take a breath. He tried hard to interest her, but Claire's mind was elsewhere. Across from them, Father sat on the other couch enjoying a cigar. He rolled it between his fingers and barely listened to Eddie's drivel. No one dared to sit with him. He was posed like a king on a giant throne.

        "So Claire," her father interrupted.

        Fritzy stepped up to his couch and offered her father a drink. Her father accepted, pleasantly surprised. Claire eyed the golden haired man, taking note of how attentive his behavior.

        "Thank you," he nodded to Fritzy.

        Fritzy pocketed his free hand and sipped the drink he'd brought himself, eyeing the people in the room. Claire kept her eyes on him, trying to assess all they saw. She recalled what Sarry suggested at dinner. Despite appearances, somehow it didn't quite add up.

        "Claire," her father said, recapturing her attention. He sat up very straight on the edge of his seat. After a moment, he smiled. She felt
the pressure of Fritzy's eyes as they turned to her as well. He considered her as carefully as a cop sitting across from his collar. "What are your plans now that you're all grown?"

        "Plans?" Claire said, half surprised he bothered to talk to her. This was the most he said to her all night. "I can't rightly say," she answered softly, quite uncomfortable under the probing gaze of her father's new chum.

        "I was planning on taking her 'round the country," Aunt spoke for her. She carefully awaited Father's reaction, smiling to hide her concern. "It's time she met some of our friends."

        "I meant while you're in Boston," her father said. The sentiment between them had not changed. The ice could supply a decade of drinks.

        "I hadn't really given it much thought," Claire said.

        "We should have a night out!" Sarry said.

        "That'd be fantastic," Eddie chimed in. "Just like old times."

        "A girls' night out," Sarry corrected Eddie flatly.

        "Sarry, you can't just keep Claire to yourself," Eddie whined.

        "She hasn't been home in—"

        "I think that would be wonderful," Claire's father cut him off.

        "You should have a night with your friends. God knows, hanging round the house with your old man won't be any fun. Work, work, work! With the war on, the factory is busier than ever and I can't spare a moment," he went on, puffing his cigar and sitting back on the couch. He rested his glass on his knee and watched her carefully.

        "I haven't seen you in months," Claire said. Brushing her off like that dug deep. She saw her father's jaw set and forced a smile to soothe him. "But I understand. We'll catch what time we can. Like you said, it's a good opportunity to see my friends again anyway."

        Silence took over as they held each other's gaze. It reminded Claire of a night long ago. Aunt tensed at her side. Sarry lit a cigarette and cast her attention toward the chattering couples scattered about the room. Claire wanted to disappear into the couch.

        "Oh," Claire's father said, with a Cheshire cat smile. "I nearly forgot." He pointed to Fritzy. "Claire, Noreen—this is my new associate, Carsten Reiniger. He's come to us from Belgium."

        "Belgium!" Aunt gasped, reaching to shake the young man's hand. "That's a long way to come for work, isn't it? Though—I hear things aren't so good there."

        "Yes." Carsten smiled. "It is a long way, but America is my new home. Boston. There is nothing left in Belgium for me."

        "Well, that'll make you sad," Aunt said.

        "Not at all," Carsten replied. "I view it as opportunity."

        Carsten took Claire's hand and smiled down at her.

        "Forgive me," Claire said, slowly drawing her hand back from him. "But you sounded German. Not that I'm sure I'd recognize either accent even now." Claire smiled.

        "No need to apologize, Miss Claire," Carsten said. "It is an easy mistake. My parents were in fact German, but moved to Belgium for work before I was born." Carsten laughed, pocketing his hand again. "Now I move to America for the same reason." Claire was relieved her father had not taken up with a Nazi.

        Rumors of Americans sending their money overseas to the fascists had spread wildly back in New York. She blushed at having dared to think it of her father. Ever since that horrible day so long ago, Claire found fault and suspected everything her father did. She no longer wanted to do that, as it must have been routed in lingering blame for her mother's displacement.

        Clasping her hands in her lap, Claire still felt Carsten's touch on her skin. She lowered her eyes to the floor, thinking of how silly she'd acted despite being a graduate of a prestigious girls' school and certainly no longer a girl.

        "I have a fabulous idea!" Claire's father sat up again. "Why don't you show Carsten a little of Boston for an evening? He's been working so hard at the factory—I'm liable to burn him out. It would do him good to get out for once. I've given him no time to see anything but machinery. What do you say, Claire?"

        Claire's mouth went dry. Her sentiments were reflected in Eddie's unspoken dismay at the suggestion. Though he had no hold on her, they were friends and he could have said something. Yet, no one seemed willing to speak up to Mr. Healey. She knew nothing about the young man her father was pushing at her. Regardless of his resemblance to the god Apollo, he spoke with a unsettling foreign accent. Besides that, he might as well prove to be a deity for all they had in common. Her eyes darted to Carsten. She crossed her legs and clasped her hands on her knee. She struggled for a response, but Carsten silenced her with a smile.

        "I think that would be great fun," he said. "Do you like pictures?"

        "Pictures?" Claire said. She wondered how Sarry kept so quiet when all she ever did was chatter. She needed a friend right then to get her out of this, but Sarry only smiled wickedly.

        "Films. You know, cinema," Carsten explained himself, both amused and surprised she didn't understand his meaning.

        "Oh—yes. Yes. I do. How silly. The train ride must have exhausted me more than I realized." Claire saw herself walk right into the trap. At least her father wasn't trying to set her up with gangly old Eddie anymore. She tucked her hands under her legs. "But I don't think you'd like the kind of pictures I do." Claire had spoken without
thinking, and she knew there was no way her excuse would work. He'd see right through her reluctance.

        "Posh," her father waved his hand. "What's that new film that's out...Hired Gun?" He waved his hand at her, trying to find the title in his memory. "It has that Lake woman in it. You love her. Doesn't that sound like fun?"

        Sarry puffed on her cigarette and smiled, seeing how deftly Claire had been cornered into a date by her father and his henchman. She crossed her legs and bobbed her foot erratically. She was enjoying every moment.

        "What do you say, Claire?" her father pressed. "If Sarry doesn't mind missing a night out," Claire said.

        "Oh, I don't mind. I mean, the poor kid. He's been here months and hasn't seen a lick." Sarry grinned deviously at Carsten. "Why, it'll be a hoot," she said as she ran her eyes over him. No doubt, she was disappointed to not be the one providing the entertainment.

        "Well, that's settled," Aunt said. She patted Claire's hand, knowing she hated being thrown at young men like that. "You kids should go tomorrow night. We'll be a couple of days and that'll give you girls some time to catch up too."

        Aunt smiled at her and Sarry, then cast a cold glance on Claire's father. The meaning was not missed by those near. He returned the glance in kind.

        "Carroll," one of the guests interrupted. The woman who'd hung about Carsten all night had come back for more. "Thank you for a wonderful evening, as always. It was such a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Reiniger."

        "I'd better go too," Sarry said, pushing to the edge of the cushion next to Claire. She blocked Claire's view of Carsten and his admirer.

        "How about we shop tomorrow morning? I've got a wad burning a hole in my wallet."

        Claire looked at her friend. Sarry winked and smiled. Claire raised her eyebrow and tried not to smile back.

        "First thing," Claire said.

        Sarry nodded. She took Claire's hand and pulled her along.

        "Come here. I have to get my coat."

        "Hey, hold up," Eddie cried. He loped after the girls, still forgotten.

        Sarry pulled Claire to the door, "Eddie, get my coat, would ya?"

        Eddie's shoulders slumped, crushed. He hobbled away to do her bidding.

        "Look at you, set up with the dish already," Sarry gushed. "We'll get you a new suit and hat tomorrow. Those eyes of yours will take care of the rest. I'm so surprised I was wrong about him." Her voice trailed off wistfully.

        "What do you mean?"

        "Oh, Claire."

        "I'm only going with him so he can see a film." Claire folded her arms. "And I'll be back in New York come Monday. Dad's just pawning his new protégé off on me. He must have something he has to do that Carsten can't be around for."

        Eddie returned with Sarry's coat. He helped her put it on with the same awkwardness he'd shown when helping Claire earlier. Sarry held her cigarette in the corner of her mouth and looked at Claire.

        "Cut me a break," she said. "You've been staring at him all night."

        "I have not," Claire insisted.

        "Staring at who?"

        "Never mind, Eddie." Sarry rounded on him, pulling her cigarette from her mouth. She blew smoke in his face. "You wouldn't understand." She turned back to Claire. "See you in the morning, doll."

        This time, Eddie found himself pushed out the door by a force greater than himself. Claire crossed her arms as she watched them go and laughed. They may be grown, but they were still the bossy rich kids she remembered. She smiled to herself realizing how much she'd missed them.

        As the guests bustled out, Claire stood in the hallway dreaming of days gone by. They cooed and patted, and though she tried to smile and respond, nothing distracted her from those thoughts.

        "Good night, Claire," one last gentleman said on his way out.

        "Lovely to see you again."

        Claire nodded to the old man and stepped toward the staircase, hoping to make an exit before she spent another moment with her father. It was so strange that only minutes ago, she'd reached for more time with him and now she was eager to escape.

        "Honey." Aunt's voice filled the hollow hall. The woman took Claire's arm and hugged her to her. "Let's get to bed. That train ride must 'a been awful. I'm sorry I didn't drive you."

        "No. It wasn't really," Claire said, squeezing her aunt's arm.

        "Seemed so long was all."

        "You should get some rest," Aunt said, resting her head on hers.

        "You're gonna have a heck of a long day tomorrow."

        Claire stopped and gaped at her stricken.

        "You're telling me."

        The reality of it twisted Claire's face, making Aunt chuckle. She had a date with the German Apollo.