response throws me off guard, and I ball up my little piece of thread to toss at him. “Thanks.”
He puts his hand up in mock defense. “I didn’t mean to offend you; I’m just saying that I don’t think you have the same laugh. Yours is more sly. I’ve seen it; you snort sometimes.”
“Thanks.”
“I mean it in a good way. You laugh like everything is a secret.” He glances up at me, his mouth twisting a little in embarrassment, I think. “You laugh, and I’m never sure what’s going to come out of your mouth next.”
He’s nearly done cleaning this bicycle chain, so I go to where the second bicycle is still leaning against the wall of the stables and walk it back. This one’s chain is even more mangled than the first; it’s why Abek and I didn’t choose it to begin with. Laying it on the grass, I protect my hands with a clean cloth and remove it from the gears.
“Breine is trying to get me to come with them,” I say.
His hand falters.
“They’re in contact with someone who has a boat. It will leave from Italy, and there are still slots on it. They’re going soon.”
“You never talked about—I always thought you were going to—” He collects himself and begins again. “Do you want to go?”
“I’m not sure. I’ve barely had a chance to think about it. Do you want to go?”
He presses his lips together. “I’m not a part of that group.”
“Neither am I. Breine just said they had some unexpected openings.”
He’s silent for long enough that I begin to think he won’t answer at all. “I’m not going to go,” he says finally.
“Why not?”
“I’m just not. It’s not the place where I belong. I don’t want to take a spot from someone who really wants it.”
“Okay,” I say. “Then what do you really want?”
“What do you mean?”
I know I’m treading into personal territory, but I press on anyway. I’ve been in this man’s bed; it’s not out of line for me to ask these questions. “Well, Breine and Chaim are here because they’re learning to run a farm. Esther is learning stenography. And I’m here because I was looking for my brother. But, when we were in the wagon on the way to the Kloster Indersdorf, you said you were trying to leave as quickly as possible. Only, I haven’t seen you trying to leave.”
He tenses. “I take care of the horses.”
“I’m not saying you’re not being useful. I’m only saying that it sounded like you wanted to collect yourself and move on, but I’ve never heard you mention what you want to do next. I don’t even know what you did before.”
“Before, I lived with my family and learned to take care of horses.”
“During, then. I have no idea what happened to you during the war.”
He clenches his teeth. “During the war, I lost my teeth and gained a bald spot on my head.”
“Josef. You know that’s not what I—”
“I would be sad if you left,” he interrupts.
“What did you say?”
He finishes with the chain and wipes his hands off on the rag. “I want you to go with Breine and Chaim if you want to. I know that I just met you, and I wouldn’t ask anything from you. But if any part of you was telling me about Breine’s invitation because you wanted to know my reaction… my reaction is, I would be sad.”
I chew the inside of my cheek, trying to keep from grinning at what Josef just said. “I think I would be sad, too.”
“So maybe until you decide,” he says, “you can keep leaving little pieces of leftover thread in my room that I can keep finding excuses to return to you.”
I retrieve the thread from the grass where it landed after I tossed it at him. “Do you want to just take this with you so you can give it back to me tomorrow?”
“I do.” Solemnly, he takes the thread. “Can I kiss you now?” Josef asks.
“You can.”
WITHIN A FEW DAYS, ABEK AND I HAVE COBBLED TOGETHER a routine. Breakfast in the morning. An hour or two of his trying to teach me to ride, an activity at which I’m relentlessly hopeless. And then after that—my alterations on Breine’s dress have had an unexpected result. The evening after the wedding, a woman I’ve never seen before stops by the cottage with a skirt in her hand, asking if I can hem it. The next day, her friend brings