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Back When We Meet Again Save as PDF
Chapters (57)
  1. Cover
  2. Dedication
  3. Epigraph
  4. Prologue
  5. One
  6. Two
  7. Three
  8. Four
  9. Five
  10. Six
  11. Seven
  12. Eight
  13. Nine
  14. Ten
  15. Eleven
  16. Twelve
  17. Thirteen
  18. Fourteen
  19. Fifteen
  20. Sixteen
  21. Seventeen
  22. Eighteen
  23. Nineteen
  24. Twenty
  25. Twenty-one
  26. Twenty-two
  27. Twenty-three
  28. Twenty-four
  29. Twenty-five
  30. Twenty-six
  31. Twenty-seven
  32. Twenty-eight
  33. Twenty-nine
  34. Thirty
  35. Thirty-one
  36. Thirty-two
  37. Thirty-three
  38. Thirty-four
  39. Thirty-five
  40. Thirty-six
  41. Thirty-seven
  42. Thirty-eight
  43. Thirty-nine
  44. Forty
  45. Forty-one
  46. Forty-two
  47. Forty-three
  48. Forty-four
  49. Forty-five
  50. AUTHOR’S NOTE
  51. ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
  52. POPULAR BOOKS FROM THE ERA
  53. When We Meet Again
  54. A Conversation with Caroline Beecham about When We Meet Again
  55. Discussion Guide
  56. ABOUT THE AUTHOR
  57. What’s next onyour reading list?

It was lunchtime, and he’d been en route to the hospital to see his father, motoring down Bowery, about to turn on to the Manhattan Bridge, when the idea had struck and he’d decided to stop. He strolled east along South Street—it was where he’d spent much of his childhood riding bikes among the old steam plants and vast brick buildings in the “street of ships.” His mood had turned grim after the meeting and he still couldn’t believe that where he’d tried to help, he’d made things so much worse. What you’ve just told me has made up my mind. We’d be crazy not to! had been Walter’s words. Theo knew a sense of freedom could be gained from standing at the water’s edge—that you could have a foot in two different worlds on the Atlantic Seaboard—and he needed to think.

He reached a wooden pier and took in the panorama of the East River: from the Williamsburg Bridge and the gigantic cranes of the Brooklyn Navy Yard across the water, to the floating docks and repair yards that clung to the waterfront like a special fleet. Ship horns blasted, and the staccato sounds of construction filled the air as steam spewed onto a horizon filled with machinery so gargantuan it dwarfed the skyscrapers. He looked to the right, the strong southerly nearly robbing him of his hat and depositing a fine spray on his expensive navy suit, forcing him to take a step backward.

A seaplane motored onto the sound then took off, banking to the right on the start of its journey; transporting one of the wealthy few who still took seaplanes from the Downtown Skyport to their Long Island homes, and it made him think again of Walter. His employer had placed him in an impossible position, but what galled him the most were Walter’s comments before he’d left. “Think of the opportunities for America, Theo. We can send our greatest works to countries that have been under colonial control for far too long—places like Canada and Australia, South America and India. Think what it will mean for the company.” And he’d told Theo again that it was his responsibility, as head of business affairs, to see that it was done.

He’d been naive to believe that Walter was ignoring the gathering demand for books, when it was obvious now that he’d been planning this the whole time. But what mattered was how Theo was going to put it right.