CHAPTER 11: …the expression on his face was a “Kodak moment.”
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.
