“Oh, that’s a lot.” Her mind boggled at the thought of all of those tests. She could certainly take the German and English exams without a problem, and perhaps she could take some of the tests in Italian, but she definitely needed to study more to pass all of them. As for Russian, she had a long way to go. But there was time, she reminded herself. She was young yet.
“Aye, it is, but in time, you could master them, I have little doubt. If you want something badly enough, you can do it.” He smiled at her. “And as you said before, you’re clever.”
She returned his smile. She liked his view of her.
When they reached the clerk’s office, they stopped outside the door.
Jeremy brushed a lock of hair from his forehead. “So I hear congratulations are in order.”
“Oh? For whom?” she asked.
He laughed. “For you. Aren’t you engaged to be married?”
“Oh. That.” Everyone knew. Everyone! How had that happened so fast? She wished she could disappear into a giant hole in the ground. “My stepfather accepted the proposal on my behalf. He insists it’s a good match, German families coming together and all that, but I haven’t spoken to Inspector Lambert about it. I’m…I’m not—” She bit her tongue. Why was she telling him all of this?
“Well, a wedding is a happy event. I can see why Lambert is so eager to spread the word.”
“I suppose it depends on your definition of happiness.”
His brows arched in surprise. “You don’t want to be married?”
She cringed. She hadn’t meant to sound so bitter. “What I mean is, I didn’t have a say in the matter. John asked my parents, not me. My feelings weren’t taken into account.”
What had gotten into her? She didn’t need to explain anything to this man, and yet she felt compelled to just the same. Jeremy had been so kind to her from the first, precisely when she needed a friend. And maybe she needed his assurance all would be well regardless of her engagement. Wasn’t that what friends did, reassure each other? Helene had done just the opposite.
“Ah, I see,” he said. “I’m sorry to hear that. Perhaps you might change your parents’ minds?”
“They seem pretty set on it, but maybe.” She could hear the despondency in her own voice, and suddenly, it took all she had not to cry.
At this, an emotion she couldn’t place reflected in his eyes. “Well,” he said at last, “I wish you luck.” And with a faint smile that disappeared in his beard, he said, “It’s to work for me.”
“Yes, well, have a nice day.”
He tipped his hat and went inside his office.
Heart in her throat, she checked in with the clerk briefly and then walked slowly to the registry office, her thoughts churning. She had a fiancé. She would be expected to give him children quickly, run the household, and all of her silly dreams about schooling and studying and interpreting would be put on hold indefinitely, or altogether forgotten. She shuddered at the thought of John’s long, thin hands on her skin. How could her parents do this to her! She wrestled with thoughts of defying them, of telling John her parents hadn’t consulted her and had made a mistake. What could they possibly do to her? They’d already forced her to find a job outside of the home. And she was a grown woman. Robert had no right to make decisions without her consent. And yet.
Eyes smarting, she looked for a quiet nook to hide from everyone, to agonize and seethe in private.
*
Two weeks passed, and Alma had yet to speak to John outside of a quick hello in the halls at Ellis Island. Neither had she seen him at the bierhaus. She stared out the window of the matron’s office. Another barge carrying a massive load of soil moved across the bay toward Ellis Island. The island was constantly under construction to accommodate the rising number of immigrants landing on its shores, and now, they were building a third island, adjacent to the second. Alma found it fascinating the way the city had built a concrete shell on the floor of the Hudson River, fortified by steel, and filled it with soil left over from the subway construction. Fritz had explained some of the details to her one evening after work.
Though the barge appeared to move slowly, it made good time across the turbulent waters, arriving sooner than expected. Beyond the barge, the Ellis Island ferry tugged insistently against the tide. In minutes, she would be swamped and wouldn’t have a spare moment until her shift ended. Confronting John would, once again, have to wait.
She blew out a breath of frustration as she walked to her post in the registry office to prepare for the immigrants’ arrival. Again. Mrs. Keller regularly assigned Alma to the most trying tasks, and it had started to feel like a punishment. Alma worked as hard, if not harder, than the other matrons, so she didn’t understand why her supervisor punished her with the more difficult posts.
Within the hour, immigrants flooded the building and the relative quiet vanished. This time, it was a ship filled with a mix of Polish and Russian people, and by the looks of it, it was a larger load than usual. Alma weaved around the crowd, directing people, delivering paperwork, helping in the detainees’ quarters, answering questions, running from one end of the building to the other.
By afternoon, she’d seen John three times, and each time he’d acted as if nothing had changed between them. His nonchalance set her teeth on edge, and by three o’clock, she’d begun to watch the minutes tick by, counting the hours until she could go home. When she finally found a free minute for a quick drink of water and a snack, Helene cornered her.
“Lambert wants to see you in his office,” Helene said.
Alma’s stomach clenched. “What? Why?”
“He needs a translation,” her friend called over her shoulder as she rushed off to her next destination.
Alma walked to his office, her feet as heavy as bricks. Would he, once more, pretend nothing had happened between them, or would he finally ask her to marry him in the proper way rather than behind her back? Her heart knocked against her ribs as she looked inside his office.
“Come in,” his voice boomed.
“Miss Bach said you sent for me.” She didn’t meet his eyes.
“Yes, good.” He waved to a couple in the chairs beside his desk. “These two appear to be together, yet they aren’t married or related in any way. Explain our policies to them in Italian, please. If they agree to be married, we’ll draw up the contract, and I’ll send Inspector Miller with them on the next ferry to city hall.”
When Alma realized he really did need her to translate and this wouldn’t be a confrontation, she relaxed and spoke to the couple, explaining their next steps. They talked amongst themselves a moment, finally agreeing to the contract and marriage license. She asked them several questions about their home and travels to put them at ease and assured them all would be well. The young woman smiled, and once again, Alma warmed to the unexpected satisfaction of helping someone. They were shown to the bench outside to wait for the paperwork.
“Did you need anything else?” she asked John when she’d finished.
“Come in, shut the door.”
The flutter in her stomach returned as she closed the door behind her.