was able to appreciate and admire her country as she had not when she was caught up in the stress of the tour. She admired the pastoral landscape speeding past her window, farms and small towns, creeks and forests. Times were still tough, but thanks to Roosevelt’s New Deal—which the Friday Niters had strongly influenced—people were going back to work. Bridges were being built, roads repaired, art created for public places. There was an air of renewal, of hope and restored confidence. Perhaps the American economy was not rebounding from the Great Depression as quickly as was Germany’s, but no one had to be denied citizenship to improve America’s unemployment statistics. People did not have to be kicked out of professions by the tens of thousands to create jobs for others. Compassion and respect could build an economy too—not overnight, but steadily, and with more enduring results.
Mildred delighted anew in all the things she had missed about America. Overheard conversations and jokes in regional accents. Newspapers free to present the facts as reporters discovered them, with editorials representing a broad political spectrum. Bookstores full of works that uplifted and questioned and instructed and challenged. Baseball. Jazz. City blocks where whites and Jews and Negroes and immigrants lived side by side, if not always in friendship, then at least in mutual respect. The rule of law. Due process. The Bill of Rights. Every mile brought a new reflection, something lost to Germany, rediscovered in the land of her birth.
When her train pulled into the station in Washington, Arvid met her on the platform, swept her into an embrace, and kissed her cheek, murmuring endearments in English and German. They spent the night at the Willard Hotel two blocks from the White House, dining and dancing in the evening, ordering a hearty breakfast in their room the following morning—all expenses paid by the Economics Ministry, since Arvid was officially traveling on business.
Arvid too seemed more relaxed than when they had left Germany. “I feel like a houseplant neglected in a pot on the windowsill, shriveled and drooping, and suddenly some kind Hausfrau emptied the watering can over me,” he said in English as they strolled hand in hand along the Washington Mall.
Mildred had to laugh. “What an image.”
He smiled and squeezed her hand. She was happy to see him cheerful again, when he had good reason to be discouraged. His meeting with Heath’s colleagues had gone about as well as her job search. Arvid had warned the Treasury Department officials of Hitler’s intention to invade Poland and had provided copies of incriminating financial records as evidence. Warning them that war was imminent, he had listed significant hidden German assets the United States should be prepared to seize when the day came. The officials had listened politely, examined the documents he had smuggled out of Germany at enormous risk to himself, and promptly dismissed him. His letter to the State Department offering his services in the inevitable fight against the Third Reich would almost certainly never be delivered.
After another day in the nation’s capital, Mildred and Arvid went to Maryland to spend time with Mildred’s eldest sister, Harriette, her husband and children, and their mother. It was a joyful reunion, at least on Mildred’s part, but on the eve of their departure, Harriette took her aside and asked if she would not prefer to stay and let Arvid go home alone. “He can’t make you go back,” she said firmly. “We’ll all stand with you.”
“What are you saying?” asked Mildred, astonished. “He would never make me go back, or make me go anywhere.”
“Mildred, I’m your sister. You can be honest with me.” Harriette fixed her with a loving but stern gaze. “Arvid’s changed. We never had the chance to get to know him well, but now we can see he’s a typical German. He’s a Nazi.”
“That’s not true. He joined the party because he had to, but he’s no Nazi.” He’s in the resistance, she almost blurted, and I am too. But she couldn’t. The risk was too great. “Please trust me. He’s a good man. I wouldn’t stay with him if he weren’t.”
Harriette studied her for a moment in silence, but eventually she nodded, still dubious.
It was an unhappy note to mark their parting, and the uncomfortable reticence lingered as Mildred and Arvid bade the family goodbye and boarded the train for New York. Someday, Mildred silently assured herself, when the Reich was no more and Arvid’s role in the resistance could