One Night in Brooklyn

Off Work

I smiled to Maria Greco as I left the office,

"Have a good night, Maria." I called to her, grimacing slightly as I thought I heard my suppressed German accent sliding into the words. I reached the door, and pulled it open, we were the last two workers left in the New York Press office. 

"You too dear." Maria smiled back, "Oh, Emma," I turned back to look at her. Her kind gray eyes peering at me over her wire-rimmed glasses. "Please say 'Hello' to Roseanne for me." I nodded, 

"I'll try if she let's me get a word in other than her rambling about Henry." I said, Maria laughed.

"She's my daughter all right, always chasing the gentlemen." Maria stood and clicked off the lamp light that was illuminating her desk, the last light on in the building. I held the door open for the kind, elderly secretary, who was mother not only my friend, but an honorary mother to me. The streetlight flooded into the door, casting dark shadows providing the room with a haunting look. 

Maria stepped out and locked the door behind her, 

"How is your column coming along?" Maria asked as I walked her to the bus station a block away.

"Well," I said, "I got another letter from that lady, Mrs. Patsby, who says that I shouldn't be focusing my time on writing short stories in the paper. She even said, and I quote, '...a girl of your low education shouldn't be writing,  for many people I have spoken to agree that you should write of cooking or cleaning tips, more proper things a woman should be reading. Not dallying away their days by reading your tales, which are of an utter nuisance and distract the American population from the true issues the should be facing.....' I really don't like her!" I exclaimed, getting more frustrated by the second, forcing my hidden German accent to come out strongly. I hated my German accent, it caused people to judge me harshly, I had to learn to mask it, people don't like Germans. The war ended 3 years ago and still people assume that I am a bad person. 

Maria patted my arm sympathetically, "Now, now my dear. No need to be wound up. You are going to visit Roseanne, you are doing wonderfully at your job, and I love reading your stories; you should be happy!" I nodded and smiled, Maria always knew what to say.

"Have a nice night Maria," I said as we reached the bus station, "I'll tell Roseanne that you said 'Hello'."

"Thank you my dear," Maria answered somewhat busy with the job of digging out ten cents out of her antique handbag for her bus fare. "Do you know what time it is Emma?"  Her grandmotherly figure hunched over as she counted out change for the bus. 

I checked my watch that used to be my father's, "It's eight minutes before seven, we're a minute a head of schedule."

"Good! Are you taking the bus to Brooklyn?" Maria asked me. I shook my head,

"Taxi. I asked Norman to pick me up here."

"Norman, that's your cousin, correct?" Marie asked, squinting her bright eyes slightly, trying to remember. 

"Second cousin, yes, he's the one that got a job as a taxi driver two months ago. He promised he'd pick me up here at six fifty-three." As if on cue, my second cousin pulled up, leaving the car running, he opened the door.

"Emma!" He said opening his arms and giving me a bone-crushing hug. I laughed,

"Norman! We better get going! See you on Monday, Mrs. Greco!" I waved goodbye to the sweet old Italian woman, she smiled and waved back, taking a seat on the bench to wait for the bus. Norman opened the front door for me and I slid into his taxi.

"So, how's my favorite second cousin?" I asked, once he shut the door behind himself.

"Good, Bernice is going to have another child." Norman said, excitedly.

"Really? That's amazing! How is she and Thomas?" I asked about Norman's son.

"Bernice is an amazing mother! Thomas, he's one and a handful like his old man." Norman said, laughing. Norman like me is German, except his father married my mother's cousin. He was up in England for six years when he turned fourteen, losing all of his German accent, he wrote to me after my parents died and asked if I wished to go to America with his wife and him. That's how I came here.

"How long have you two been married?" I asked, smoothing out a wrinkle in my floral dress.

"Two years, five months, three weeks, and 6 days." Norman answered, turning down a road.

"You counted?" I said in disbelief. 

"No, all I know is we've been married about two and a half years." 

I shake my head, "How much does it cost me for this drive to Jefferson Avenue?" 

"35 cents. 7 cents per mile." He answered as he put the car in park so I could get out. 

"Here's 50 cents." I said dropping the two quarters into his hand, "Keep the change as a gift to Bernice and Thomas." I said smiling after he tried to offer me change. 

"Bye Norman." I called, waving to him as I walked to the door of my friend's apartment building. "Tell Bernice I said 'Hello'!"

"Bye Emma! I will! Take care of yourself." Norman pulled the car away and drove off, probably eager to get some of Bernice's cooking.

I shook my head and ascended up the stairs to my best friend's second story apartment.

A/N:

Hello,

So, this is my first historical fiction novel. I don't know how the general world will like it. I'm sorry to the German people and descendants of Germans, but this is a fictional novel were Germans are hated. I am of German lineage and I'm sorry if this offends you. It takes place after WW2; so it's easy to see why the Germans could have been misjudged and all labeled 'bad people' because of the evil action of some of Germany's rulers. I don't mean to offend anyone, so if I do I am sorry.

Sincerely,

-x_x786