He could still feel her lips on his when he was back standing at the stove. He congratulated himself on his clever offensive. He had wanted to kiss Lauren anyway, on this their second time seeing each other, and it had happened at the right moment. Lauren had laughed quietly, a laugh that gave him credit for the smooth move and that was at the same time a bit delighted. He wasn’t the first person to have kissed her—that too was clear now. She seemed not at all unsure of herself.

He poured the noodles into a colander, mixed them with the sauce, handed her a plate.

“So long as it’s not the eight a.m. screening on Sunday morning, then let’s go.”

“How about the one at eight p.m.?”

“I’ll get the tickets.”

After they’d finished eating she sat down next to him on the couch, petting Princess, who sat in front of them, her hand drawing long lines down her back. He decided not to make any more advances today—first they had to get through this movie. While Lauren talked about her work at the hospital, he realized how much he liked her. She told him about a ditzy coworker; he lost himself in her voice. Then he realized that Lauren was talking about something else now, about men who were brought in at night with a knife in their stomach, and about screaming wives she had to calm down, about kids with chicken bones stuck in their throats, about drunk drivers who ran into trees, about people who’d been beaten up. She had to take care of the patients until the doctor had time to see them. Lauren lit a cigarette and said, “The German American Bund beat up two people the other day, two protesters.”

“That’s no good.”

“This lunatic in Germany is a menace to the whole world. These days you have to pick a side. That’s what these two men did. It was the right thing to do.”

He nodded thoughtfully and knew she was right.

“Did you hear about the attacks in Washington Heights, Joe? The victims landed in our emergency room. One shopkeeper recognized his assailant from back in Berlin.”

She looked at him, challenging him. Now it’s your turn, she seemed to be saying.

“Does this have anything to do with me?”

Lauren hesitated. “You’ve got friends in Yorkville, don’t you?”

“Well, sure. I wouldn’t call them friends. And there’s lots of things in Yorkville: athletic clubs, reading groups, choirs, baking clubs, and of course also a mini version of Hitler’s Germany.”