I didn’t mention meeting JB on the bus. In fact, I never did tell Bob that JB was just a friend. I couldn’t risk creating any doubts in Bob’s mind about my love for him, at such a crucial time in our lives.
“Was your family waiting for you when you got home?” I asked.
“I called my dad before the train left and asked him to meet me at the depot. When the train pulled in, it looked like the town hero had arrived. I guess my dad got the word out to my family and friends. They all were there to see me in my officer’s uniform. My parents had a buffet set up and everyone hung around until about ten o’clock. Actually, I was glad to see them all leave. I wanted to get to sleep so I could get up early this morning to see you.”
Bob visited for about an hour every morning. It was happiness all over again just to see him waiting for me in the office with Mr. Boyle — and the donuts and coffee.
The prospect of Bob leaving on Saturday morning, induced a hollow and empty feeling that was beginning to gnaw at my insides. I desperately wanted to be with him before he left, but had no idea how or if it could be arranged. Time was running out and, just as I was about to give up hope, JB walked into the diner on Thursday evening.
“JB, would you mind if we didn’t go to the movies tomorrow night? Something has come up and I don’t want to be rushing around.”
“That’s fine with me, Laurel. I’ll just go down to Atlantic City with the guys and see a movie on the boardwalk.”
JB didn’t seem disappointed. After all, the boardwalk theaters would be a luxury compared to our local movie house with its wooden seats.
Friday night I went to the movie alone — walked right down the aisle and out the rear exit door into the alley, where Bob was waiting for me in his brother’s car. We drove to the river and parked near the cove, where we had a good view of the water.
The moon was out, casting its romantic aura all across the riverside. The evergreens rustled in the breeze. All else was quiet, except for the sounds of the water lapping against the river bank. We nestled in each others arms and talked about the wonderful time we had together during his furlough, despite the cat and mouse game we had to play to see each other.
We got out of the car and walked down to the shore line.
“One of the first things I’m going to do when I get back is plant laurel bushes all around the cove and seed it with wild flowers. In the spring, the cove will be a glorious garden of blossoms….in every color of the rainbow. I’m going to have a bronze plaque made with “Laurel’s Cove” engraved on it. Everyone will be able to refer to the cove by its name and our family will maintain it forever.”
We held each other in a close embrace and sealed our dreams with a kiss.
“I’ll love you forever….and ever….and ever….until the end of time, my precious love,” I promised.
“I believe you and remember….I’ll love you forever, too, my darling.”
“Take good care of yourself and promise you’ll always wear the St. Christopher medal,” I added.
“I will. I have it on right now and I’ll carry the bible in my pocket. I won’t forget.”
We returned to the car and drove back to town — arriving just as the movie house was being emptied. I said goodbye and took the walkway that led to the front of the theater and mingled with the crowd.
I walked home alone, under the branches of the old maple trees that lined the streets. It was under these maples, that rainy morning, when Bob stopped to give me a ride to the post office — and my first visit to the cove. It seemed like only yesterday when I skipped home from the Sunday matinees — under these very same trees — without a care in the world. Tonight there would be no good ship named Lollipop. The only ship on my mind was the one that would be filled with soldiers, on their way to a land across the ocean. Somewhere, in that crowd of soldiers would be the love of my life, awaiting his destiny.
The sound of voices could be heard, when I reached the top of the stairs. “Who could be in the office so early?” I wondered. To my surprise, Bob was sitting in Mr. Boyle’s office — the two of them enjoying donuts and coffee.
“Lucky for you, there are still a few donuts left,” Bob laughed. “I’ve been here since a quarter to seven. I wanted to get off the street before your dad took a notion to drive by.”
“Looks like that officers’ training school has really paid off, lieutenant. I pity the enemy soldiers in your territory.” I rubbed his shoulder and helped myself to a donut. “Did the two of you eat nearly a dozen donuts?”
“No. I bribed the fellows downstairs to forget they saw me come in,” he grinned.
Mr. Boyle looked at me and smiled, revealing a large gold tooth in the front of his mouth. I could see that he was enjoying the situation. “Bob can stay for a while. As long as we aren’t busy, I don’t have a problem with him being here with you, Laurel.”
In violation of all professional etiquette, I gave the boss a hug and a kiss on his cheek. “Thank you, Mr. Boyle. You are so considerate….and romantic. It may be a long time before Bob gets back from the war. Every fleeting bit of time that we spend together is very precious. We’re beginning to feel like Romeo and Juliet. My parents have been very difficult. They think that Bob is too old for me, and it has certainly created some snags in our relationship. Besides, there really isn’t that much of an age difference.
“Laurel, it isn’t age that determines the success of a relationship or marriage — it’s the maturity of the individuals. You appear to be very mature for your age, but don’t go quoting me to your parents. My wife is several years younger than I am. The age difference has never been a problem. We just fell in love, got married and had a family. She kept me happy by being a good wife and mother, and I made sure she never wanted for anything.”
“That’s so beautiful, Mr. Boyle. I had no idea you were so sentimental….and such a philosopher!”
“People have a tendency to overlook the fact that beneath my wrinkles and bent body is a heart that has loved, known joy and, at one time, broke from sorrow when my son died.”
Bob stood up and patted Mr. Boyle’s shoulder. “Well spoken, my friend. You have my respect and deep admiration.”
Mr. Boyle had never recovered from the loss of his son in a tragic accident. I noticed tears welling up in his eyes as he quickly arose from his chair and left the room saying, “Ill see you later.”
“Bob, never in my wildest dreams would I have expected to see you here….and at eight o’clock in the morning!”
“I just had to see you again and find out if you got home okay, or if there had been a confrontation when you got home.”
“It wasn’t too bad. They were a bit reserved at first and they made it quite plain the next time I leave town, I should let them know where I would be going. Nothing to be concerned about.”
More Soon… I desperately wanted to be with him before he left.
“I had to get away for a couple of days, JB. I needed a change….” all the while hoping that he wouldn’t ask if I had been crying. He didn’t ask, which was typical of JB. He did mind his own business.
When the bus stopped at my street, he got off the bus with me. “I’ll carry your suitcase. Hope the neighbors don’t think we spent the weekend together….or would you rather that I didn’t walk you home?”
“Walk me home, please….JB. I was dreading the thought of having to lug that baggage for three blocks. Believe me, I am very grateful that you were on the bus. Maybe my mother will reward you with some of her special fried chicken and biscuits .
He laughed. “I’d have to be starving to eat that Yankee fried chicken and sweet raisin biscuits. Just kiddin’….I ate there Friday night, but not chicken and biscuits.”
When we walked in the door, there was tension in the air. My parents, no doubt, were probably wondering why JB and I were arriving together. He, too, sensed the unusual lull in the conversation and began to explain how we ran into each other at the bus terminal.
I took my bag and went into my room to get into something warm and comfortable. When I returned to the kitchen, there was a fresh pot of coffee and an assortment of sandwiches on the table….and the atmosphere was cordial.
Mom sat at the table with us. I gave her a ceramic rooster that I bought for her collection. She noticed “souvenir of New York” at the base, confirming that I didn’t spend the weekend in Atlantic City with JB.
“So you went to New York. What did you do there?”
“Well, on Saturday , I took a tour of the city, walked in Central Park and was too tired to do anything else in the evening. There wasn’t time for anything today.”
JB got up from the table, initiating a change in the conversation. “Thank you for the dinner. I’d better get going or I’ll miss my ride back to camp.”
After he was gone, my dad asked, “How come you went to New York without telling anyone where you were going? He didn’t wait for a response, but just added, “Don’t do that again!”
“I won’t,” I replied, thinking that when the next time rolls around, I’ll be a married lady and wouldn’t have to account for my activities to anyone but Bob.
I took refuge in my bedroom, very much relieved that everything was quite peaceful. The fact that JB was there may have kept my father’s temper under control.
As I recalled the events of the day, I wondered if JB had seen Bob and me saying goodbye at the bus terminal.
More Tomorrow… violation of all professional etiquette
Chapter 14
I took a few moments to check out the bedroom and bath, to be sure that nothing was being left behind. Everything seemed to be accounted for. As I snapped the locks on the suitcase, a shiver surged through my body, as though my happiness was being locked out to remain at the hotel.
I sat quietly on the bed, admiring my engagement ring, which I knew would have to be removed before we left the hotel. I wanted to tuck it away safely, so it wouldn’t get lost and, at the same time, would be close to my heart.
“Bob….I wish I didn’t have to remove my ring. If only it could remain exactly where you placed it. With all my heart, I want everybody to know we‘re engaged. It shouldn’t have to be this way. Sooner or later my parents will have to accept our decision to be married.” I held my hand out before me and a ray of sunshine, coming in through the window, caught the diamond at the right moment — flashing it in the sunlight. “This is the most beautiful engagement ring I ever saw. Thank you for asking me to be your wife. Every time I look at my ring, I’ll be reminded that you love me.”
Bob sat down beside me and held my hand to his lips. “Laurel, my love, if you think it’s best not to wear your ring at this time, I’ll agree with your decision. Pin the ring inside your bra….better use two pins to be sure you won’t lose it. Think of it as a part of me that you wear next to your heart….It will bounce along with you wherever you go….Come on….smile. That was a funny one!”
I gave him a smile. My heart was telling me how wonderful it could have been if we announced our engagement, with both of our families together. I hated the sneaking around and discord within the family, but had no intention of subjecting Bob to another abusive episode with my father.
“I hope you are not thinking about me with that frown on your face?….” Bob asked.
“No darling, just wondering why my parents are so rigid and puritanical.”
“Everything will work out just fine. Just remember that old expression about not crossing the bridge before you come to it. Someday they will be tickled to death to see you get married and move out of the house.”
“You’re probably right….”
“We’ll work on that one when I get back. For now, let’s get going before we miss the train.”
The station was just a short ride from the hotel. Our train was very long and crowded with soldiers, who were probably stationed at Atlantic City. I think Bob was worn out from saluting by the time we settled down in our seats for the scenic ride through the pines. After the train pulled in, Bob rode with me in a cab to the bus station.
“I don’t want you to go, Bob….” I held his hand tightly and did all I could to hold back the tears.
“Don’t cry, Laurel. You’ve been so strong. Give me a smile and tell me you love me.”
“I love you….and I can’t stop the tears….I’ m sorry….”
He hugged me close. “I’ll think of some way to see you before I go back to camp.” We embraced one last time and he got back into the cab, which would return him to the train station for his ride home.
I had just boarded the bus when I heard someone call my name. JB was seated a few rows down and beckoned for me to take the seat beside him. He took my suitcase and put it in the overhead rack and got comfortable in the aisle seat.
“Bet you’re sorry you didn’t have to sit on my lap,” he laughed. “Where have you been anyway? I went over to your house on Friday to take you to the movies and your Mom said you had left for the weekend. She thought you went to Atlantic City and couldn’t understand why you would have to stay overnight when it was just a 30 minute bus ride away”
More Tomorrow… “there was tension in the air”
Chapter 13: I’ll always remember them, especially when my morale needs a lift on the battlefield.
Morning arrived all too quickly. I ran my hand over to Bob’s side of the bed, only to discover that the sheets were cold. He must have been up for quite some time.
A ribbon of light peeped out from under the bathroom door. He was probably shaving. No point in bouncing out of this comfortable bed just yet. It felt so good to stretch and yawn that I lazily dozed off again for a few minutes — only to awaken to see Bob smiling down at me.
“You still snore,” he laughed. “Would you be interested in a couple of aspirins for your hangover?”
“What hangover? I’ve been waiting for you to get back into bed so we can continue where we left off last night….”
“Nice invitation, Laurel, but I’ll have to take a rain check. Room service will be bringing in breakfast any time now.”
“Okay, then after he leaves,” I laughed. I sat up and wiggled my feet into my slippers and shuffled into the bathroom. “Why did you get up so early?
“Just a habit, I guess.”
I could see he was busy rearranging the room, so we could have breakfast by the windows. Several people down on the sidewalk were waiting for rides or walking their dogs. It was early dawn and everything looked so clean and peaceful.
“You must be hungry,” I remarked, as he poured another glass of orange juice for himself.
He laughed and nodded. “The food is great, but if I continue eating like this, my uniform isn’t going to fit.” The threat, however, didn’t discourage him from eating. He finished the last of the sausage and poured a second cup of coffee.
After breakfast, Bob pulled the bench over to the window and we cuddled together, like two contented stuffed cats. I knew this would be a wonderful day and tried not to think about tomorrow, when we would have to leave all this glamour and freedom behind.
We marveled at the vastness of Central Park. Whoever thought a park of this size could exist in the heart of Manhattan! When the sun burst open over the rooftops, the trees caught the glorious sunrise in their dewy leaves, creating a collage of dangling jewels among the shadows. As the sun rose higher in the sky, the view seemed to take on all new and ever-changing dimensions.
Traffic began to pick up and people were hustling along the sidewalks and darting between cars. The city was coming alive.
“Judging from the way they are dressed, it must be cold and windy out there. March is probably going out like a lion…. It’s hard to believe that it’s spring already,” I mumbled.
“Don’t tell me you are afraid of cold windy weather. You’re a tough country girl,” Bob teased.
The concierge suggested a tour, which was good advice. The bus guide pointed out the landmarks and stopped occasionally to let us take pictures. We had the best seats on the bus — right behind the driver, who took a great interest in Bob. His son was stationed at Ft. Benning and he asked Bob if he knew Cpl. John Callahan. Bob said the name wasn‘t familiar but, if he came across his son, he certainly would tell him that he had met his dad. The driver beamed and thanked him.
“I think he will be going overseas soon,” the driver casually added. “Do you have any idea where he will be going?”
“I don’t even know where I’m going. It’s all classified information. Sorry I can’t help you.”
We left the tour at Rockefeller Center and had lunch at a deli that smelled of garlic, rye bread and dill pickles. We settled for matzo ball soup and split a pastrami on rye — a great choice.
“I really should get some exercise to stay in good condition,” Bob complained, as he ate the last of his sandwich. “I wish we could hike a little when we get back home, before I leave for camp. I can’t understand why your dad is so opposed to our dating. I’ve known him since I was a kid.”
“Maybe that’s the reason,” I laughed. You made a big mistake when you bragged about all your conquests. Dad has a great memory and probably, the first thing that went through his mind was — ‘not with my daughter he don’t ‘.”
Bob, with a silly smile on his face, agreed. “You are probably right.”
“For heaven’s sake, Bob, what in the world did you do? Have we done it?”
He just sat there with that silly grin. I could see the conversation was going nowhere, so I changed the subject. “If we hurry, we can still make the matinee at the Radio City Music Hall….or we can go back and walk around Central Park.”
“Let’s go to the park….that‘s a great idea! I‘m curious to see what it looks like from the ground level.”
The sun was beginning to set when we got back to the hotel.
“I enjoyed the walk, Laurel. It was just like old times. Exercise is very important for an infantryman. I keep in good physical condition, which you probably noticed.” He seemed a little proud of himself.
“Bob, is the army changing you or is this a side of you that I’ve never seen before?”
“I’m pretty sure you’ve seen all my sides,” he replied and laughed at his own sense of humor. “It has been a wonderful weekend, hasn’t it? We really should write a note to Clayton and thank him for his hospitality. Will you have time to do that?”
“What’s his last name?”
“His name is Carson….Second Lieutenant Clayton Carson. We have the same mailing address.”
“Suppose we just spend a quiet evening at the hotel tonight. I’d like to talk with you for a while before we leave. You probably suspected that I’ll be going overseas very soon and I’d wager a guess that I won’t be back until the war is over. These are our precious moments. I really don’t want to share them with the outside world.”
“I feel the same way….I don’t want to go out and push around with the crowds. Staying here is so much better. I’ll order something from room service and get into something warm and comfortable and sit by the fire. I am cold through and through.”
He nodded as he took off his uniform and hung it in the closet. I watched him move around in his khaki shorts and slip into his slippers and robe. He seemed surprised that I enjoyed watching his military striptease. He smiled, “Now it’s your turn.”
“Women aren’t as complicated as men….a zipper here, a garter there and voila tout,” I slipped into my robe and slippers and we sat on the rug before the fireplace with our feet to the fire. “Oh, that heat feels so good! By the way, I have a present for you,” I said as I pulled a small package from one of the pockets in my robe.
He removed the wrapping and opened the box. Inside the box were two smaller packages. “How many boxes are inside these two boxes?” he laughed.
He opened the smallest one first — a St. Christopher medal. I hoped he would be able to wear it along with his dog tags. The other gift was a small bible with a metal jacket to keep over his heart.
“Darling Laurel, you think of everything. You are such a gem. I’m lucky you love me! Thank you so very much. You’ll be there with me, protecting me on the battlefield.
We put all the serving dishes on the floor before the fire and ate picnic-style. Bob became quite talkative and very humorous about his army life. I can’t remember when we laughed so long and so hard in all the time we had known each other. Maybe it was staged to soften the fact that he was going overseas.
“It’s getting late, Laurel. Let’s get our things organized so we don’t have to rush around in the morning.”
I went into the bathroom to organize my toiletries. I needed a few moments alone. Somehow, I couldn’t erase the look in Bob’s eyes when he spoke about shipping out. He knew exactly when he was leaving, where he was going and that it was going to be a bloody campaign, but he couldn’t share it with me. Engrossed in my thoughts, I didn’t hear Bob come up behind me. I was startled when he turned me around and hugged me.
“I love you, soldier boy. I sure could use a kiss right now.”
“There’s a whole lot more where that one came from. This weekend was made in heaven, Laurel darling. It has been the most wonderful weekend of my life. I thank you for loving me so tenderly and making these wonderful memories. I’ll always remember them, especially when my morale needs a lift on the battlefield. Always remember….I’ll love you forever.”
more tomorrow…I sat quietly on the bed, admiring my engagement ring,
“Are you happy?” he asked, as he took my hands and kissed the ring. “You are in this for the long haul, I guess you know.”
He stared right into my eyes as he spoke. Our eyes connected — as if we had exchanged a telepathic message from his soul to mine — “we will love each other forever!”
Dinner was almost a ritual — a ceremony — like a beautiful violin instrumental. We talked and laughed, making ourselves part of the symphony. When we had finished our dinner and arose to leave, the song ended — but I knew that the melody would linger on in our hearts ‘til the end of time.
The fireplace had been lit in our room and welcomed us with the warmth of a home away from home. The bed had been turned down, the drapes drawn and a gift basket delivered during our absence. A bottle of champagne cooled inside an ice bucket. Two champagne glasses set side by side on a silver tray.
Bob was all smiles. “That Clayton is a great guy. How generous of him to do all this for us. His parents are in the oil business and wealthy as all get out, .but you would never know it. He is just a down-to-earth guy. Just one of the boys. I had no idea that he would give us such a great homecoming. You’d like him, Laurel. Someday you’ll have to meet him
“I’d like that. But, right now I’d like to get into something comfortable and maybe take a shower?” I gave him a smile and a wink and he took the hint.
It didn’t take me long to step out of my clothes. Bob took a little longer. I watched as he carefully hung up his uniform and rolled up his underwear and socks. At the sound of his dog tags hitting the top of the dresser, my heart skipped a few beats and a damp cloud seemed to pass through the room. “He will never belong to me until those dog tags and all reminders of the military are tucked away and out of sight forever,” I thought.
It was exciting to step into the shower and to be close to Bob again. Perhaps we could wash away all thoughts of the war and our pending separation like the soap suds that were spiraling down the drain.
“This is almost like being married,” I heard myself saying. “Why can’t this last forever? Why must there be a war? Let’s just run away to some strange land and never come back….”
“What are you saying, Laurel? You’re overlooking the consequences. There will be a time for us,” and he held me close to him, which calmed the trembling that was running from the top of my head to the tips of my toes. Once again I felt secure in knowing that he loved me.
“I’m sorry, Bob,” I’m a bit sensitive tonight. It was immature of me to become unglued. I know I should be grateful for these precious moments we have together but, in my heart, I realize that the time will pass all too swiftly and you will be gone again….maybe for a very long time. Hold me in your arms tonight, dear soldier boy, and promise me you will be here in the morning. I couldn’t bear to awaken and find this all has been a dream.”
Chapter 12: “Brought you a letter, Laurel. It’s from Second Lieutenant Robert L. Martin,” …
Herbie, the mailman, walked into the diner — his eyes scanning from booth to booth, before he found me back in the kitchen. Waving an envelope, he hustled over to the pick-up window.
“Brought you a letter, Laurel. It’s from Second Lieutenant Robert L. Martin,” he grinned. “I’ll bet you’re proud he got his promotion….”
“You win that bet, Herbie! I can’t thank you enough for going out of your way to bring me my letter.”
Herbie grinned — tipped his cap and was about to leave when I added, “Please, let me buy you a cup of coffee.”
He looked over his shoulder and I could see he appreciated the invitation. “Wish I could, but the family is waiting on me for dinner. I’ll take a rain check…..okay?”
I smiled and nodded as he left.
The letter was burning a hole in my apron pocket. It was busiest time of my shift and people were lined up waiting for tables. Judging from the size of the crowd, it would be a while before I had a chance to open the envelope.
At the end of my shift, I took a cup of coffee to the last booth, slid over into the corner so I wouldn’t be disturbed, and gently lifted the flap on the envelope. I pressed my lips to the underside of the envelope’s flap — keeping in mind that Bob had licked that flap when he sealed the letter.
“Dearest Love,” he wrote. “Today I became a second lieutenant and am trying to get used to being saluted every place I go. What a difference rank can make. Wait ‘til you see me in my uniform….it fits for a change….really sharp!”
I smiled as I read those lines. How could Bob look better than he did the first time I saw him in blue jeans and a tee shirt…and he looked back over his shoulder at me? I blushed and I felt very warm all over at the very thought of him.
Returning from my reverie, I continued to read his letter. He told me about how he led his men on maneuvers and how impressed his commanding officer was with his leadership. The boasting surprised me. Bob had always been very modest about his accomplishments. Apparently it was a tough course for most of the other guys, but Bob was a seasoned outdoorsman and a likely candidate for the infantry.
Eventually, I got to the best part. He had a furlough coming up next week. I’d been worrying how we could ever spend any time together after my father‘s ultimatum. Remembering I was forbidden to see Bob again aroused great concern for the both of us. I was surprised to read that Bob wanted me to meet him at Grand Central Station in New York City next Friday afternoon and to spend Friday and Saturday nights at the Plaza Hotel. The treat was offered to him by of one of his buddies, whose father maintained a room at the hotel for the family and company VIP’s on business trips to the city. It all sounded so very exciting.
I placed the letter back into its envelope and tucked it inside my brassiere. I’d have to find a good permanent place to hide it to keep our secret safe.
I thought Friday would never arrive. When it did, I called in sick. After my mother went into town for groceries, I left her a note to let her know that I would be away for the weekend and would return on Sunday. That’s all I wrote. I’d be out of town before she returned and wouldn’t have to lie about where I was going. When I returned, I would tell her I went to New York for a change. It sounded so easy that I hoped it would work out as planned.
Bob was waiting for me when I arrived. When he spotted me, he hurried through the crowd waving. He looked so handsome in his new uniform — “How did I ever deserve such a hunk?” I wondered. He wrapped his arms around me and we laughed and kissed at the same time — a magic moment that was etched in my heart to last down through the years.
We made our way through the crowd and out onto the sidewalk, which appeared to be a moving mass of khaki uniforms, interspersed with navy blues and marine greens. The buildings towered to the sky and everything looked cold and gray.
Bob flagged a cab and in no time at all we were at the most elegant hotel, which was crowded with well-dressed visitors and celebrities. The bellhop led us to our room and as soon as he left, Bob took me in his arms. We just stood there, holding each other tightly without saying a word. It was really true — we were together again!
“You look great, Laurel. I missed you….I can’t tell you how much I missed you….”
“I missed you too….and I must say you are the most handsome soldier I’ve ever seen, and you are all mine!”
We stood by the window overlooking Central Park. “Your buddy was very thoughtful to offer us this room. How many people ever get to stay at the Plaza?”
“We’ll come back someday, Laurel. Don’t think of it as a ‘once in a lifetime’ event. When I get back, I’ll get a good job and we’ll splurge once in a while.”
He kissed away a tear that had begun to roll down my cheek. “No tears, darling. This is going to be one hell of a happy weekend for us.” As he smiled down at me, he took my left hand and slid a solitaire diamond ring onto the third finger. “It’s official now….we’re engaged.”
I wanted him to hold me forever. The engagement ring elevated our romance to a whole new plateau. I was almost married and I was so happy….“I’ll love you forever and ever, my dearest, darling husband-to-be. Oh….The ring is so beautiful….”
“The diamond isn’t real….but the setting is gold.” Bob seemed to be embarrassed when he added, “It was all I could afford right now and it beats no ring at all. You’ll get a real diamond on our wedding day…. Now, let’s go downstairs for dinner and celebrate.
The tables were set with sparkling china, silver and glistening crystal. Bob mentioned something to the maitre d’ and we were whisked to a corner table, where we could have more privacy.
more tomorrow…
Our eyes connected — as if we had exchanged a telepathic message from his soul to mine — “we will love each other forever!”
Chapter 11: I could see in his eyes that he was anticipating a feast, but he was in for a surprise.
Although it was a long ride, the beauty of the cove made the trip worthwhile. Lorraine called it “a piece of heaven.” We laughed and dreamed about buying land next to each other and being neighbors and raising our children together. We shared plans about building boats and traveling up and down the river during the warm sunny summers Our homes would have large picture windows to absorb all the beauty of nature all year long — through which we could watch the snow and ice in the winter and the kids swimming in the summer. Life would be beautiful.
Lorraine’s boyfriend, John, was in the navy and out to sea. The next time he returned to port, they planned to be married and live near the base. Lorraine planned to be a teacher and thought she might have to drop out for a while to be with John. Lives were so uncertain — it all was a matter of taking one day at a time. Two weeks later, she left for Norfolk, Virginia and was married.
I was very happy for her — and a little envious that they were able to be together now rather than having to wait for the war to end — like Bob and me. I missed Lorraine, but was thankful that JB was still around to take me to the movies or dinner once in a while. He seemed to have won over my parents, also. Sometimes, when I returned home from work, I would find the big ten-wheeler army truck parked in front of our home and I wondered what the neighbors were thinking. JB would be inside talking to my parents — giving my mother the perfect opportunity to invite him to a fried chicken with biscuits dinner. I could see in his eyes that he was anticipating a feast, but he was in for a surprise.
JB just assumed that everyone knew how to make southern fried chicken and biscuits — but not my mother. She didn’t dip the chicken in flour or batter. Instead, the chicken was fried Italian style in hot olive oil that had been seasoned with garlic and hot peppers. And as for the biscuits, Mom’s recipe contained raisins and sugar.
When JB sat down for dinner, the expression on his face was a “Kodak moment.” Very politely and in his irresistible southwestern drawl, he asked Mom where she learned to make her chicken and biscuits “like that.” The next time JB came to dinner, Mom stuck to what she knew best — spaghetti and meatballs.
JB’s pleasant personality and great sense of humor made him a welcome guest whenever he was in the neighborhood. His visits became more frequent and were not necessarily to see me — and my parents loved it. Dad joked about seeing an army truck parked on some isolated road and JB sound asleep on the ground beneath it. JB’s excuse was that after doing a geological survey he was too tired to drive back to camp. Maybe so — or maybe he had a bottle or two of beer and didn’t want to return to camp in that condition. Since JB was my best friend, I kept my opinion to myself. He made no secret of the fact that he loved to drink beer every night but, apparently, he also loved drinking it during the day.
More tomorrow – “Dearest Love,” he wrote.
Although it was a long ride, the beauty of the cove made the trip worthwhile. Lorraine called it “a piece of heaven.” We laughed and dreamed about buying land next to each other and being neighbors and raising our children together. We shared plans about building boats and traveling up and down the river during the warm sunny summers Our homes would have large picture windows to absorb all the beauty of nature all year long — through which we could watch the snow and ice in the winter and the kids swimming in the summer. Life would be beautiful.
Lorraine’s boyfriend, John, was in the navy and out to sea. The next time he returned to port, they planned to be married and live near the base. Lorraine planned to be a teacher and thought she might have to drop out for a while to be with John. Lives were so uncertain — it all was a matter of taking one day at a time. Two weeks later, she left for Norfolk, Virginia and was married.
I was very happy for her — and a little envious that they were able to be together now rather than having to wait for the war to end — like Bob and me. I missed Lorraine, but was thankful that JB was still around to take me to the movies or dinner once in a while. He seemed to have won over my parents, also. Sometimes, when I returned home from work, I would find the big ten-wheeler army truck parked in front of our home and I wondered what the neighbors were thinking. JB would be inside talking to my parents — giving my mother the perfect opportunity to invite him to a fried chicken with biscuits dinner. I could see in his eyes that he was anticipating a feast, but he was in for a surprise.
JB just assumed that everyone knew how to make southern fried chicken and biscuits — but not my mother. She didn’t dip the chicken in flour or batter. Instead, the chicken was fried Italian style in hot olive oil that had been seasoned with garlic and hot peppers. And as for the biscuits, Mom’s recipe contained raisins and sugar.
When JB sat down for dinner, the expression on his face was a “Kodak moment.” Very politely and in his irresistible southwestern drawl, he asked Mom where she learned to make her chicken and biscuits “like that.” The next time JB came to dinner, Mom stuck to what she knew best — spaghetti and meatballs.
JB’s pleasant personality and great sense of humor made him a welcome guest whenever he was in the neighborhood. His visits became more frequent and were not necessarily to see me — and my parents loved it. Dad joked about seeing an army truck parked on some isolated road and JB sound asleep on the ground beneath it. JB’s excuse was that after doing a geological survey he was too tired to drive back to camp. Maybe so — or maybe he had a bottle or two of beer and didn’t want to return to camp in that condition. Since JB was my best friend, I kept my opinion to myself. He made no secret of the fact that he loved to drink beer every night but, apparently, he also loved drinking it during the day.
more tomorrow…Dearest Love,” he wrote.
What do You Think of the Read Books Free Concept?
Our sleepy little town was coming of age in a “naughty but nice” time.
Little did the residents suspect that they might rue their initial hospitality to members of the military. In a matter of months, as the war progressed, the population of troops stationed in the surrounding wooded areas swelled — and as it did, so did the problems associated with the community’s inability to provide adequate relaxation and entertainment for so many men training under stressful regulations.
The military police patrolled the streets, eventually declaring some areas off limits. For the first time in our town’s history, we had a red light district. To exacerbate the situation, the area was directly across the street from the bowling alley and our USO hospitality center — two very popular recreational facilities. In less than a week, the USO had closed its doors, leaving its regulars, who came in to write letters or make calls, without a retreat from camp.
Just when it appeared that the prostitution problem was under control, a new scandal rocked the community. A 16 year old girl, who had been dating an army captain for several months was pregnant. She had filed a complaint with the commanding officer, requesting that the captain assume his obligations to her and her unborn child, by marrying her and providing her with a dependent’s allotment. As a result of the accusation, the captain was required to appear before a military panel to defend himself against the allegation. He testified that he was a married man and had paid for the services of the girl. He swore she had told him she was 18 years old. Most of his comrades from the camp lied under oath, testifying they too had engaged the services of the young lady. The girl’s credibility was ruined.
The panel recommended that the girl’s parents place her in a home for unwed mothers — and the charges were dismissed. With her reputation destroyed by small town gossipers, she found it impossible to return to a place she once called “home.”
The community, irate over the army’s decision, became hostile and, as a result, fewer soldiers spent their off-duty time there. The booming business once enjoyed by the merchants tapered off dramatically.
Without my USO duties and with JB’s visits to town limited, I found myself with time on my hands and went to work at the local diner. I replaced a girl who had been working the five to nine shift, but needed more hours. For me, it was an opportunity to increase my savings, which I had been limited on the $17.00-a-week I was making at Mr. Boyle’s office.
As the tips in my piggy bank began to accumulate, I began to dream about a home, a car and the piece of land down by the river — and wondered if it would ever go on sale.
One Sunday afternoon, I invited Lorraine to bike with me out to the river — to check out the lot. Lorraine, my best friend since grammar school, was the only person with whom I shared my deepest secrets and the details of my love for her cousin, Bob.
more tomorrow… but he was in for a surprise!
