Page 51 of The Book of Summer

Topper gave her a quick salute and turned to get a better shot at Sam.

“We can’t wait around for Russia and Germany to destroy each other,” Topper said.

“No use getting emotional about it, old sport. FDR will dip his toes into this pool, by and by. But we need to be rational. Measured.”

“Measured?” Topper balked. “Wrong. We should send every goddamned tank, bomber, and able-bodied man overseastomorrow. Hitler’s already wiped out an entire generation. He’s bankrupted the art and culture of Paris, London, and Rome. Fifty million people are starving, and that doesn’t even count the ones dying in forced labor camps. How many more countries will we let fall? How many people will die before we step in?”

“I’m telling you, we’ll step in,” Sam said. “Eventually. But it has nothing to do with saving folks halfway across the globe and everything to do with saving ourselves.”

“It must hurt to be that cynical and dead inside.”

“Topper!” Ruby chirped.

“No, no, it’s fine.” Sam patted Ruby’s knee again. “Your brother likes to shoot off. That’s his entire persona. Robert. You have to understand, this is about dominance and clout. The balance of power in Europe is the very reason the United States has reached its superpower status. And now that it’s threatened?” Sam blubbered his lips and took a drag of his cigarette. “We’re all up shit creek. Even Thomas Jefferson once fretted about what might happen if Europe operated under a single hand. This isn’t about ideals. It’s about maintaining our strength. And any action that threatens our formidable military force must be carefully considered.”

“Maybe to save the world we need to sacrifice our own.”

“Honestly Topper,” Ruby said. “Is this appropriate dinner conversation? Killing our countrymen?”

“You can’t look away,” Topper said. “Not even for a good meal, especially when others are going hungry.”

Ruby glowered at him.

“Half the stuff they print about the starvation and labor camps is fabricated,” Sam said. “Yellow journalism through and through, designed to tug at the heartstrings of impressionable students such as yourself. This country’s education system is turning out a bunch of pantywaists.”

“Good grief, Sam,” Ruby said. “You only graduated two years ago.”

“Don’t get me wrong,” Sam went on, ignoring his wife. “Things aren’t peachy, but the papers embellish.”

With a scoff, Topper chucked his napkin onto his plate, which was still piled with meat. Ruby went to remove the discarded linen but found it already mottled with gravy. She glanced at Hattie and detected the hint of a smile, one eyebrow ever-so-slightly raised. What must she be thinking? Nothing good. She hadn’t said a word.

“Well, I’ve read,” Ruby said, trying to remove the stains from Topper’s napkin with the corner of hers, “the folks in the camps are being treated well. They’re even allowed to observe their religious practices without harassment.”

Topper snorted.

“I’m sure reports from Der Führer are as reliable as a drunk.”

He turned back toward Sam.

“We are all of us humans in this world. We should protect each other, not worry about arbitrary lines drawn by dead men or our own preeminence. Hitler is pure evil. He must be eradicated.”

“He is evil, I agree, but…”

“Stop it, you two!” Ruby barked, letting go of the last smidgen of pretense that the night could be saved. “We’re supposed to be having a nice dinner but you blockheads ruined it. Bolsheviks. A war we’re not even in. Hitler—at the dinner table! You boys are the worst! The positive end of good manners! Good Lord, Hattie, I am so very sorry. They are not normally this repellent.”

“Aw, don’t sweat it, Ruby,” Hattie said with a chuckle.

She leaned over and snaffled a smoke from Topper’s pack. Hattie preferred French cigarettes, always at the ready with a package of Gauloises, but a lowbrow American brand could do in a pinch.

“I don’t mind talk of war,” Hattie said. “It’s more real than a Yacht Club romance, that’s for certain.”

“You shred it, wheat,” Topper said in approval.

Ruby blushed furiously and set to attacking her salad.

“But I have a question for you, our dear and oh-so-educated menfolk,” Hattie said.

She gave a cute smirk, and then sucked deeply on her cigarette. They all waited as Hattie exhaled over her shoulder, the smoke curling away in a seductive dance. As Ruby scanned the room, she noted every man in the place trying to catch a peek of this magnificent and rare bird.

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