She’d have to get Walter to drive her home.

And thought, Oh shit, he’ll want to stop and talk, hold my hand. It was embarrassing watching a Nazi-lover trying to be lovey.

And thought, No, he won’t stop because Joe Aubrey will be in the car. Walter must’ve brought him, he always did. She’d let Joe sit in front, listen to him rant about the Klan for fifteen minutes and she’d be home. Only once, back in the Bund days, Joe Aubrey ever made a real move on her. Came up behind her and slipped his hands around her body to cup her breasts, alone in the kitchen, the house on Kenilworth near the market, grabbed her breasts and whispered in her ear, “You can do better’n Walter. You know it?”

She said, “ ’Course I know it.”

He said, “You ever thought of movin’ to Georgia? You could work at Rich’s in Atlanta, the best department store in town, and I’d fly up and see you.”

She said, “Joe, I’ve given up my cute southern ways, acting ditsy in front of boys? I’ve learned I’m way smarter than most of them.”

He was caressing her breasts now saying in her ear, “I know how to please a woman, get her moanin’.”

Honey said, “You don’t stop, I’m gonna grab your weenie and yank it so hard Walter’ll hear you scream and come running out here to kill you.”

What did that do? Got him excited. It was one of so many times she spoke before she thought it out. Still, it never got her in trouble, did it?

Jurgen came in the kitchen with his empty glass, smiling, showing his nice white teeth, telling Honey, “Since you came in this house I’ve been thinking of ways to get you alone and Vera offers you to me.”

“Like she knows you’re the reason I crashed the party,” Honey said. “Do you know what I mean?”

“I think so, yes.”

“I have to talk to you about what’s gonna happen next.”

Jurgen hesitated. “You mean when the war ends?”

“I mean now, tonight. I want to know what you’re gonna do,” Honey said. “If you’ve made up your mind to leave here tonight, slip off in the dark or what?”

“Let me think about this,” Jurgen said. “You told Vera that Carl Webster dropped you off here. This policeman who wants to put me in the hoosgow.”

“He can’t,” Honey said.

“You know the word hoosgow?”

“It’s the jail in a Gene Autry movie.”

“Yes, what cowboys call it, from the Spanish word juzgado, meaning a court of law. You know hoosgow, uh?”

“Listen to me,” Honey said. “You’re right, Carl would love to grab you and take you back to Oklahoma, but he can’t. The Federal Bureau of Investigation’s ordered him to stand back, leave you alone. They think you’re helping out the spy ring and want to see their investigation play out. Carl told me he’s cut corners in his time but has never, when a higher-up gives him an order. Has never disobeyed it, he said, and never will.”

She didn’t think it sounded much like Carl, but part of it was true. She wasn’t sure he’d never disobeyed an order. If he did, she imagined that by the time he explained why, he’d tell a great story that ends with gunfire.

Jurgen said, “This is Carl’s idea? To ask me what I’m going to do?”

“It’s mine,” Honey said. “Carl dropped me off but hasn’t any idea what I’m doing. Actually what I thought of when I walked in and saw you. Carl would love to sit down and talk to you, and if you want, you can do it. I swear he’s been told to leave you alone. You can walk up and give him a shove, he might growl but he won’t handcuff you. He’s been ordered not to”-she was starting to overdo it-“and I know he would love to see you again. How’s that sound? Sit down with Carl and have a drink.”

He seemed to like the idea, but was still suspicious, being on the run, a fugitive.

Honey said, “I imagine Vera would just as soon you weren’t here. But don’t leave unless you know where you’re going. I mean to a friend who’ll hide you, not to some hotel. If you don’t have a friend, Jesus, outside of Walter, you must’ve been a loner when you lived here that time, more interested in what was going on than having buddies.” She paused for a moment and said, “Do you trust me?”

“I don’t know you.”

“All I can say is take me on my word, it’s good as gold.” She said, “I’m willing to help you out, Jurgen.”

“Become complicit in a German soldier’s escape?”

“We’re in the eye of the storm,” Honey said. “It’s calm in here. The FBI’s leaving you alone. Carl can’t touch you. It’s like a time-out in football. You and Carl can get together, have a few drinks and talk, decide what you want to do next. You want to leave, Carl has to let you walk away.”

Jurgen said, “Why are you getting involved in this?”

“Why’d I marry Walter?”

“Why did you?”

“Don’t ask hard questions,” Honey said. “I have a place where you can meet Carl and tell war stories to each other. Yes or no?”

“What you’re telling me,” Jurgen said, “I’m no longer important as an escaped German soldier?”

Almost sounding offended.

“For the time being,” Honey said.

“But I might be a spy. So they have to wait to see what I do?”

Honey said, “If it was okay for Carl to pick you up, you think we’d be standing here talking? You’d be on your way to Oklahoma.”

“But you say he doesn’t know what you’re trying to arrange.”

“I told you, I hadn’t thought of it yet.”

“So you don’t know what he’ll say about it.”

Maybe she was trying too hard.

“It’s up to you,” Honey said. “You want to come with me, I’ll ask Walter to give us a ride when he’s ready.”

“Yes, and where would we be going?”

“To my place,” Honey said, “my apartment.”

See if that stirred him any.

Bohdan and Dr. Taylor were on the sofa talking, Bo animated, using his hands. Vera wasn’t anywhere in sight, or Joe Aubrey. Honey couldn’t imagine them off together somewhere in the house. There was Walter sitting by himself with his schnapps, raising the glass to have a sip, but now he saw her and came to his feet. Rehearsed, Honey would bet, ready for her.

As she moved toward Walter, Bohdan and Dr. Taylor were going to the front door together still talking. She watched Bohdan open the door, put his hand on the doctor’s shoulder saying good night and closed the door. Now he was looking this way. Giving her a smile? Now he was flitting up the curved stairway to the second floor, leaving her with Walter, Walter standing in her face as she turned to him.

“I want to tell you what I’m going to do,” Walter said, “and what I would like you to do for me.”

Honey thought of her dog Bits, hit by a car when she was a little girl, and said, “Vera told me, Walter,” with a catch in her voice.

“I think of Germany,” Walter said, “at the time we were married setting forth on its conquest of Europe, a time that offered me the great adventure of my life, if I were to take advantage of the opportunity.”

Honey, trying her best to look interested, wondered how long this would take. It was like trying to hold a smile while someone told a boring story that was supposed to be funny.

“Now the war is coming to an end,” Walter said, “while I have given nothing of myself for Germany and the Führer. All that remains is that I give my life. It will be my gift to the Führer for his fifty-sixth birthday.”

Honey said, “Walter . . .” But then what?

Walter said, “Honig,” and it saved her for the moment. “As I prepare to sacrifice my life, there is something you can give me. In honor of our time together.”

She said, “Really?” but saw it coming and wanted to tell him no, please.

“A son,” Walter said, “to bear the name Walter Helmut Schoen after I am gone.”

It stopped her. “Helmut, that’s your middle name?” She said, “There isn’t time, Walter.”