Vivian Schurfranz - Laura

Two soldiers immediately appeared.

"Escort these two radicals out of here."

"Yes, sir." They smartly saluted and walked the girls into the hall, through the Rotunda, and out onto the marble steps.

As they walked down the mall, Cassie and Laura couldn’t believe their fantastic luck.

Laura giggled. "I wonder if our banner is still waving in the Senate Chamber."

"I imagine it was ripped down about two seconds after we were forced out," Cassie said dryly. "Laura," she said thoughtfully, "do you think Miss Paul will be angry with us?"

"I’m afraid she might, but if we had waited for her permission we’d never have done it!"

But Miss Paul was not angry. In fact, she was pleased at their bold move. However, she did admonish them not to do it again, for they would need all their energy for the upcoming October thirty-first demonstration in front of the Senate.

The next day Joe came home, and she dreaded to face him, for his mother was very sick with the flu. Poor Bertina! Yesterday when she went up to visit her, Aldo had barred the door, shaking his head helplessly.

"Bertina has flu," he said gruffly. "You go home."

She had looked into Aldo’s large sad eyes, and her heart ached for him.

This morning, before eating her breakfast, she had to find out how Bertina was. Joe was staying downstairs in Otto Detler’s apartment, for the flu was too contagious. Aldo would allow Joe in the house only for a few minutes at a time. He was needed to tend the store.

Laura gazed out the kitchen window at the bright fall leaves and wished things were as bright in the Menotti household. How quickly things could change!

"Ah, Laura," her mother said, hurrying in, dressed in her coat and hat. "I need to go to work. They’re short of conductors. Please take the soup that’s on the stove to the Menottis." Her eyes softened. "You mustn’t go in, Laura. Leave it on the doorstep."

"But if it’s so contagious, won’t Aldo get it?"

Mrs. Mitchell smiled, stirring the soup. "He says he’s strong like lion. Sometimes people in the same household of an influenza patient are immune."

"Mother," Laura said thoughtfully, "this epidemic is serious, isn’t it?"

Maude’s eyes clouded. "I’m afraid so. Over five hundred cases have been reported so far in Washington."

Just then Sarah entered and poured her coffee. "Good morning, Mother, Laura."

"Hi, Sarah." Laura looked back at her mother. "I just hope our family stays healthy."

"We’re strong like lions, too," her mother said with a short laugh.

And Laura could almost believe her. They would remain untouched, she thought. Just look at her mother’s ruddy, strong face and Sarah’s rosy glow. Yes, she felt better. The Mitchells would be fine. But Bertina was another question. "I hope Bertina will be all right," she said. "I’m worried about her."

"We all are." Laura’s mother hugged her around the waist. "Don’t forget to deliver the soup. I know it will make Bertina stronger."

"What are my Saturday chores?" asked Laura, hugging her mother back.

"Rake leaves. Otto will be busy cleaning the eaves and drainspouts."

"And Sarah?"

"I work at the factory today," Sarah interjected. "They’re stepping up rifle production."

"You’ve been putting in long hours," Laura said.

"Yes," Sarah replied. "And I’ll be home late again tonight."

After her mother and Sarah had left for work, Laura cleaned the kitchen, put a lid on the steaming soup kettle, and hauled it upstairs. Setting it on the doorstep, she rang the bell and waited for Aldo to answer.

The door opened slowly, and Laura backed away when she saw his drawn, haggard face. "How is Bertina ?" she questioned anxiously.

Aldo moved his massive head back and forth. "Not good, not good."

"The soup will help," she said in a low voice, indicating the container.

"Grazie," he murmured.

"Prego," she answered his Italian with the Italian "You’re welcome." Her eyes filled with tears as she ran downstairs.

Joe was just coming up from Otto’s apartment. "Have you got an extra cup of coffee?"

"Oh, Joe," she said, hastily wiping away a tear. "Come in." She felt so sorry for him. What a gloomy homecoming.

After she had poured two cups of coffee she reached over and touched Joe’s hand. "I hope your mom will be better soon. The soup should help."

"Mama is too healthy. It’s sad to see her like this. The only time Papa will let me see her is when I wear a mask and stay for only a few minutes at a time." He drank his coffee, but his gentle eyes were no longer filled with dancing lights. "At least I can help out at the store, and since we prepare army provisions, I’ll be given an extended leave. I’d like to take you out tonight," he said, "but I need to be close to Mama." He looked at her, and a crooked grin lit his face. "Maybe we can just sit and talk. I need that right now."

Her hand tightened on his fingers, and her face reddened. She felt wretched not to be with Joe when he needed her. "I’d like that," she said lamely, "but I won’t be home until late tonight."

"Shawn?" He gave her a rueful smile.

"We’re going to a dance at the Officers' Club tonight." He must think she was an awful playgirl. "It’s the first time we’ve been together for a long time," she finished dispiritedly. Sadness overwhelmed her, and she wished she could sit with Joe.

"Sure." He finished his coffee and rose. "Time to open the store."

"If there’s anything I can do let me know, won’t you?"

"Of course, little one. I’ll call you." He wheeled about and was gone.

But somehow his voice wasn’t as convincing as it might have been. She missed the old warmth and ease between them.

Later, while dancing with Shawn at the Wardman-Park Hotel, she was quiet, thinking of not being able to talk to Joe tonight when he needed her.

Shawn held her out at arm’s length, looking into her eyes. "Why so pensive tonight, sweetheart?"

She smiled at his concern. "Just thinking of the flu and Bertina Menotti…." her voice trailed off.

"And Joe Menotti, too, I’ll bet," Shawn said, mocking lights in his blue eyes.

"And why not?" she flared. "He needs me now."

"You still care for him, don’t you?" Shawn said, arching his brows, his eyes riveted on hers.

"I-I don’t know, Shawn." She remembered her resolve to no longer see Joe. That had changed with Bertina’s illness. She could never turn her back on him. Oh, why did she always make the wrong decision? Here she was dancing in a new dress of white chiffon and Joe was home, worried to death.

"Pretty dress," Shawn complimented.

"Thanks," she said briefly. If Shawn only knew she had made the dress for the suffragist rally at the end of the month, he wouldn’t think it was so pretty. Alice Paul had a new demonstration in mind. No longer would they carry signs but they would wear white dresses with black arm bands to indicate the death of justice in the Senate.

"A pretty dress," Shawn murmured, "for a pretty girl." He pulled her close. "But you’re a little wild, too. That latest stunt you and Cassie pulled in the Senate was crazy!"

She stiffened. Would Shawn ever understand?

"All right, all right." He laughed. "We won’t even mention the suffragists."

The waltz music swirled around her, and Shawn, with big, sweeping steps, moved her out in the middle of the dance floor.

His eyes were shining and his broad smile dazzling. "That music makes the blood race, doesn’t it?" He held her lightly. "Are you happy with me, Laura?"

She laughed then. He could make her so angry and so happy at the same time. It was like being on a roller coaster. "Yes, Shawn," she responded warmly. "I’m happy."

But Shawn’s smile disappeared when he glanced over her shoulder. All at once he pulled Laura close and kissed her.

"Shawn!" she said indignantly. "What on earth — ?"

But she didn’t have time to finish, for there stood Joe beside her with his hand on her arm.

Bewildered, she asked, "Joe, what is it? Why are…"

"What the hell are you doing here?" Shawn growled, hands on his hips.

Ignoring Shawn, Joe faced Laura.

"Just a damn minute!" Shawn said belligerently, standing in front of Laura. "Laura happens to be with me!"

Black flames erupted in Joe’s eyes, and he clenched his jaw. "Get out of my way," he ordered, spacing his words far apart.

Shawn snorted. "Make me!" He grabbed Joe’s arm.

All at once Joe shoved Shawn so hard that he went sprawling across the shiny floor. Couples stopped dancing to stare.

Shawn scrambled to his feet, face flushed with anger, but Joe contemptuously turned his back on him.

"Joe," Laura gasped, "why?"

"I’m here to take you home, Laura." His eyes softened, and he grasped her hand, saying gently, "Sarah was brought home by ambulance. She has the flu."