The Long Road Home

Chapter One December on the Timetable December 1945 By the time Daniel could name the day of his arrival, Clara had learned not to trust a date until the train was in sight. There had been months of letters: treatment overseas, a voyage home, further care, slow practice with a cane. The war had ended, but his journey had continued. His latest envelope contained a small drawing of a railway carriage. If no one changes the arrangements again, he had written, I will be on this one. The drawing is more reliable than my handwriting. Clara laughed, then carried the letter to his parents. On the appointed morning, she dressed twice, disliked both choices, and finally put on the burgundy coat he knew. Her mother tucked a clean handkerchief into her pocket. “You needn’t decide what to say before you see him.” Clara nodded, though she had been deciding for two years. At the station, every sentence deserted her