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Chapter 21

It looked like another hot day. My first thought was to get up and close the drapes.  JB was taking a few laps around the pool and probably could see into my bedroom Hopefully, he was in a better mood than when I left him the night before. Just in case he wasn’t, I decided to break the ice by putting on a pair of shorts and a halter (because I didn’t bring a bathing suit) and join him in the pool. It turned out to be a fun way to start the day.

“We can’t play around too long, Laurel. There’s a lot to do today. I put together a quick breakfast for us to save time.”

I noticed that he had the table set by the pool — juice, coffee and toast.

“Tomorrow I’ll make breakfast,” I volunteered. “ Maybe some biscuits with raisins.”

“You must like eating alone,” he laughed. Thank heavens he was in a good mood.

We drove clear across town to the court house for the marriage license and then stopped at a jewelry store.

“Laurel, I’m getting you an elaborate wedding ring, so you can wear it along with Bob’s engagement ring. I thought about asking you to put Bob’s ring away for the time being but, on second thought, came to the conclusion that it would hurt your feelings and make you think I wanted you to forget Bob. That wasn’t in our plans and I do not intend to ask you to forget your past or put aside any of your dreams for the future. As we agreed, this marriage is only to legitimize your baby; after the baby arrives, you are free to divorce me, either before or after Bob returns. We both understand the ramifications and the door to this relationship will remain open.”

His tenderness and generosity brought tears to my eyes. I wondered if he hurt inside and whether or not this was just like a business arrangement, without any emotional attachments.

We spent very little time in the jewelry store. JB seemed to know exactly what he wanted when the jeweler brought out the tray. From there we walked over to Neiman Marcus, where he selected three dresses with matching pumps for my wardrobe. He began searching through the formal clothing, then turned around and asked if I saw anything that I would like to wear for the wedding.

A beautiful pale blue jersey dress, with silver threads interwoven throughout the fabric, caught my eyes. It reminded me of the sun shining on the river and I was certain that Bob would like it too. I had never seen a dress like that before. It was draped on the side and, without exaggeration, was the most beautiful dress I had ever seen. I could see that JB was pleased with my selection.

We made one more stop — at a maternity shop. There he requested the sales clerk to select and coordinate  four interchangeable outfits for me.

“I think that should take care of you for a while.”  He put his arm around my shoulder as we walked out to the car with my expectant mother’s wardrobe.

“Thank you, JB. You didn’t have to go overboard and spend so much money on me. I really plan to get a job for a while and work at it as long as I can, before the baby arrives. That way, I’ll be able to buy what I need. Neither did you have to buy my things at Neiman Marcus. I’m sure there’s a Sears somewhere in Dallas.”

“Of course Dallas has a Sears but, when in Dallas, you do as the Dallasites….that is, the Bruce Dallasites do. When you get back to Jersey, you can wear Sears clothes,” he assured me.

Well, that settled any question about the standard of living I was expected to enjoy. In the past, my mother had made most of my clothes or else I bought them at Sears and I was comfortable with that. I wondered if the social life I was entering would target me as a Sears girl masquerading in a Neiman Marcus wardrobe.  I hoped I could pull it off.

I had my opportunity that evening. JB’s parents had invited family and friends for a dinner in JB’s honor. Although I was introduced as his fiancé, there was no mention of our wedding at the end of the week. Everyone gathered around JB.  He seemed to be enjoying the attention and was obviously Mr. Personality.

Prominently present was Jimmie, his seven year old son, who was by his side all evening. Without a doubt, the love and devotion between the two of them was very deep.

As I mingled with the guests, I noticed I had very little in common to contribute to the conversations of these people. My only alternative was to sit down with JB’s sister, Kiki, and learn who these people were and her opinion of them.

“They’re just people that I’ve known all my life. Sit here with me for a while. They’ll soon be leaving…”

A side glance revealed that JB’s father had been watching me — I turned and smiled at him. He seemed a little embarrassed that I had caught him staring at me, but waved his hand without giving me a smile. Right then and there I vowed to make a friend of that old geezer — just as soon as JB returned to camp.

On the way home, JB seemed very pleased with the reception. “Laurel, I plan to spend some time with Jimmie while I’m home….just the two of us. We haven’t seen each other in about a year and he has really grown up since my last furlough. No telling how long I’ll be gone this time….or if I’ll even get back at all. Tell me you understand, Laurel. I truly love that boy, but don’t want you to feel neglected either.”

“Of course I understand. Spend all the time you can with him….leave him with happy memories of his dad.” I choked up a little over his last remark. I thought of my child and wondered if he would ever have any happy memories of his dad. “He certainly enjoys your company. I watched how he stayed with you all evening.  There’s no question about it — he loves his daddy.”

And so, it worked out that JB would spend the days with Jimmie — usually riding the motorcycle out in the country or around White Rock Lake. The child monopolized JB’s time and, when I was present, he became annoyed if his dad showed me any attention. Jimmie was more or less in charge of our conversations and his comments to me were rarely complimentary. He was very curious about my accent. He wanted to know why I talked so funny. How can you make a seven year old child understand that everybody in New Jersey talks funny — but I tried.

“Jimmie, if you went to New Jersey, the people up there would think you talked funny. On the other hand, if I stayed in Texas, maybe I would talk like you. Would you want to teach me to talk like a Texan?”

He shook his head. Apparently, he had a little problem figuring that one out and continued to interrupt me and say — “Stop talking like that. Grandpaw said you talk like a Yankee.  What’s a Yankee?”

“Maybe you should ask your grandfather,” I replied.

At the end of the week, JB and I were married by a Justice of the Peace. The waiting room was filled with soldiers and their girlfriends, waiting to be married. It was no great surprise that the judge breezed through the ceremony to accommodate everyone in a timely manner.

I was very nervous and hoped that I wasn’t visibly shaking. When the judge said, “You may kiss the bride” — I couldn’t believe the ceremony was over so quickly. Neither could I believe the kiss that JB planted forcefully on my mouth. It was a kiss from a man who considered himself an experienced Casanova. Obviously, riding motorcycles wasn’t his only forte, and, in a way, the kiss compensated for the brevity of the ceremony.

As we walked to the car, I thought over how uneventful the proceedings were. Any hopes for a elaborate wedding in a white gown and veil had vanished from my expectations. Perhaps we should have been married in a church, instead of in the office of a total stranger, but the office ceremony was what JB preferred. In my heart, the only marriage I yearned for would have been held in my church and I would have walked down the aisle to meet Bob at the altar. Somehow, it all seemed so far away now.

I looked up at JB and smiled. I really should be very grateful that he came into my life. “The ring is absolutely gorgeous. I’ve never seen a wedding ring with so many diamonds! Just look at it sparkle — it’s brilliant! I wish I had a better word for gratitude than a simple ‘thank you’.”

“It will do for now,” he replied.

I heard his siblings, Beau and Kiki, snickering in the front seat.

There was no honeymoon or consummation of the marriage. He retired to his “private” side of the house and I slept in my room. Although I often wondered about having an obligation to him for all he had done for me, I still hoped he would not want to make love. Perhaps he was waiting for me to extend the invitation or perhaps the affair was truly platonic.

I was relieved when JB and Jimmie took off in the pickup truck for a couple of days at the drilling sight. JB thought it would be a good learning experience for Jimmie, who would eventually be a partner. Of course, I agreed — how could I object when he treated me like Cinderella.

With two whole days for myself, I decided to do some exploring. I began with trying to walk around the lake, but gave up after an hour. I sat on a bench under a tree, feeling the need to rest and cool down. It was hot and I wished I had brought some water. As I looked around to see if there was a water fountain or spigot in the area, a girl about my age joined me on the bench. She had with her a little boy in a stroller and, thankfully, a thermos of water and some paper cups.

“Are you okay….you don’t look so good. Have you been out in the heat for a while?” she asked.

“I’ve been walking for about an hour. I had no idea this lake was so large,” I replied.

“Twenty one miles around….so I’ve heard. By the way, I’m Greta. I live over there in that little white house with the dark green shutters. I saw you out here and you looked lost . Do you live in this area? I don’t remember seeing you before.”

“I’m new in the neighborhood.” I pointed in the direction of JB’s home. “I live over there….about two miles down the road. My name is Laurel….and I‘m a Yankee.”

“I’m a Yankee too,” she laughed. “I’ll go get my car and take you home. You might want to think about walking earlier in the mornings….it’s really quite comfortable then. If you happen to come into this neighborhood again, please stop in, even if it’s only for a glass of water,” she smiled.

Greta’s car was a nursery on wheels with toys and bits of crackers and cookies on the back seat and floor. One of these days we’ll get a four-door sedan and I will be able to be more organized. Hank promised me one if we have another baby, so I’m looking forward to my next pregnancy.” Greta laughed, “You may have guessed that I am pretty desperate for a different car.”

As we approached JB’s home, I said, “it’s the white house on the left.”

“The one with J.B. Bruce on the mailbox?” she laughed. “You’re kidding, aren’t you?”

“No, that’s the house.”

“You’re married to J.B. Bruce? Oh my god, I don’t believe it!”

I was dumbfounded. “What’s the deal about being married to JB?” I inquired with sincere innocence.

“Laurel, the Bruce family is one of the wealthiest in the state….didn’t you know? He almost got killed in a motorcycle race a few years back. My goodness, his story was in all the papers and sports magazines. Apparently you aren’t interested in sports.”

“I knew he was in an accident, but had no idea he was wealthy until I came down here about a week ago.”

“Laurel…Laurel….Laurel — you are so naïve. How in the world did you ever meet a playboy like him?”

“Playboy? You’re kidding, aren’t you? Now I’ll feel really stupid when I tell you how I met him.”

“I’m waiting,” she grinned.

“I gave him my seat on the last bus back to town so he wouldn’t be AWOL…”

“Now that’s really gratitude to the ‘nth’ degree,” she laughed while she continued to shake her head. “He married you for a seat on the bus? Come on Laurel. There has to be more to the story.”

“I suppose there is a story behind everything in this world, but that’s the way I met JB about a year ago and that’s all there is to tell.”

“It doesn’t sound very romantic….there must be more to the story that you aren’t telling me.”

“How did you meet your husband?” I asked — trying to change the subject.

“There was nothing romantic about meeting Hank. He was scraping snow off his windshield when my car spun around and dented his fender. We argued about that for a couple of weeks before my insurance company finally paid him for the damage. To make up for all the arguments we had over the accident, he took me to dinner and we fell in love over a plate of spaghetti and a bottle of red wine. That’s my story and I better get going. Don’t forget to visit me…..Bye.”

Well, I learned a little more about the Bruce family from this short encounter with Greta. She was a delightful person and I really enjoyed her company, but decided not to share the family secrets. JB definitely would not approve of gossip.

Chapter 22

The furlough was about over — tomorrow JB would be on the train heading back to camp. In less than two weeks, I had become acquainted with his caring and sensitive attitude toward his friends and family, his deep love for Jimmie and his concern for my welfare. I considered myself fortunate — yes, even blessed to have met him.

I sat on the patio while JB swam and dove into the pool. Every once in a while he would take a break and come over to where I was sitting and stretch out on the lounge. He would close his eyes and not say a word. He seemed to be a bit nostalgic today. Once in a while he’d look over at me and smile — I thought he may be having difficulty dealing with leaving the family again.

“I’m going to miss you, I guess you know…” I told him.

“Maybe you’ll be so busy you won’t have time to miss me.”

The expression on his face projected a bit of sadness — or perhaps a weakness that he preferred to conceal with his nonchalance.

I leaned my head back and closed my eyes. The sun felt warm and relaxing to my entire body. For a few short moments, I compared the feeling to lying on the beach at the river with Bob. I began to feel homesick. It really would be good to see my family and friends and sleep in my old bed again. I thought of my parents and hoped they weren’t worrying about me. Ideally, they had heard from my brother, who certainly would assure them that I was safe. And Bob….what has happened to Bob? No mail from him in three weeks. I hoped he was okay.

My daydreaming was interrupted by JB shaking off the pool water onto patio.

“You’re getting me all wet, feller,” I laughed.

“You’re going to have to get changed anyway,” he began.

“We’re having dinner at my folks’ home this evening. I’d like to see you in the new green dress and shoes. Laurel, I’m sorry we didn’t get out more. There was so little time….”

“Don’t apologize, JB….let’s just remember this visit as ‘quality time.’”

“I’ve been thinking that we may not see each other again if I go overseas. You’ll probably return to Bob before I get home. Tomorrow may be ‘goodbye’.” JB’s voice seemed to fade off and he changed the subject.

“I’d like to be early for dinner — maybe have a cocktail before Lily removes the chicken from the frying pan and brings the platter to the table. It has been so long since I had fried chicken, biscuits, mustard green and ‘pah kon’ pie.”

“’Pah kon’ pie?” I asked. Are you sure it isn’t ‘Pee kan’ pie?”

“Oh Laurel….’Pee kan’ pie! If you ordered that down here no one would know what you’re talking about. I don’t know about you Yankees” he laughed. “Yankees can’t cook, we can’t understand what they are saying and I can’t understand how they won the Civil War.” He flashed a grin as he triumphantly strode to his room to get changed.

I was quite pleased with the way I looked in my new clothes. The dress was not only beautiful, but also complimented my skin and hair and was not too tight across my abdomen, which was ever so slightly starting to pooch out. I applied my makeup a different way than usual.  I noticed the Dallas women were very clever with their cosmetics to achieve the natural beauty look and so I gave it a try — and it worked.

JB was pleased with my appearance. “You don’t look like that country girl I met on the bus. We’ll have to take some pictures.  I want to remember you the way you look tonight.”

Lily, the Bruce’s housekeeper, welcomed us with a big smile — showing most of her pearly whites. She had worked for the family since JB was born and everyone loved her. It was Lily who changed the children’s diapers, kept the cookie jars filled and scolded them when they were naughty. It was Lily who sat by JB’s bedside — day and night — until he had recovered from his motorcycle accident — just as she would have done if he were her own son.

Just as JB had hoped, the family gathered in the den for cocktails before Lily hustled everyone into the dining room. Truly, it was a feast to behold and probably everything that JB had been dreaming about for months.

When the chicken and biscuits were set on the table, I glanced over at JB, who was grinning at me from ear to ear, with his eyebrows raised and a satisfied look on his face that seemed to say, “Now that’s fried chicken.” Lily stood by smiling proudly at JB’s reaction.

“Now Laurel, get yourself a piece of that chicken — pour the honey all over it — and bite into it with your eyes closed. Believe me, you’ll think you are in heaven! But don’t stop there! Break your biscuit in half — lay a pat of butter on it and ‘ooo-eee’ — you’ll wonder how you ever managed to eat that Yankee chicken and biscuits all your life.”

There was no doubt about it — Lily could really cook and it was the best fried chicken I ever had. I loved the crispy, crunchy crust and the soft and juicy meat — and the honey was like icing is to a cake. I definitely wanted to learn to fry chicken Lily’s way. As for the biscuits, they were okay but I led them to believe they were the best I had ever tasted but, I honestly liked the ones that my mother made best of all. And, as for the ‘pah kon’ pie — well, it was the most delicious dessert confection — loaded with nuts and a gooey filling. I was tempted to ask for a second piece, but changed my mind when everyone began to complain about how “stuffed” they were.

Everyone was in high spirits, even JB’s dad was quite loose. I suspected that he had a cocktail or two before we arrived. He held my hand and leaned over toward me and with a smile and in his very best Texas gentleman’s accent he said, “You look mighty fine this evening, Miss Laurel. That green dress is very fetching.  You should wear green more often — it is definitely your color.”

“Thank you, Mr. Bruce. Coming from you, I’d say it was a ‘gen-u-wine’ compliment.” The frankness of my reply had everyone laughing.

JB took over the conversation. “Beau, I want you to teach Laurel to drive the pickup and take her down to get a driver’s license….and make sure the gas tank is always full. She won’t get far on her ration stamps. I’d really appreciate the favor, Beau. I completely forgot she didn’t have a license and needs the transportation to get groceries or visit you all. The bus can be cumbersome and besides, it is too hot for her to be standing around waiting for one to come along. The furlough went by like a tornado, but we did have fun in the little time we had.”

“I’ll take care of it , JB. Whenever Laurel is ready, I’ll go over and get her started,” Beau replied.

JB got up — nodded in my direction and prepared to leave. “I’ll be over tomorrow morning to see you all before I go.”

JB folded down the top on the Austin Healy and we drove off. “I love this car! I’ve never seen a car with the steering wheel on the right hand side,” I commented. “Doesn’t it confuse you?”

“I never really thought of it as confusing but, after driving those big old army trucks for so long, I feel like I’m now driving a toy and it should have pedals — like a kiddie car.”

“It was thoughtful of you to ask Beau to teach me to drive your pickup. Which one of us don’t you trust driving this car?” I teased.

“I don’t trust either one of you, especially for safety reasons. It’s a light car and you can lose control if you get on a soft shoulder of the road. You drive the pickup while I’m gone. It’s safe and easy to handle. People will get out of your way when they see you coming,” he laughed.

“Sure, they never move over when they see you coming . I’ve heard that motorcycle tear out into traffic — I’d bet everybody lets you pass.”

“Not the pickups!  They dare to race me but they don’t stand a chance of passing me. Aren’t you a little curious about riding a motorcycle? Would you ride with me?” JB asked as if daring me to take the challenge.

“Not for the next seven or eight months anyway. There’s something about flying down the highway that reminds me of falling with nothing to hang on to.”

“You would be sitting right behind….all you would have to do is hang on to me,” he replied.

“And if you hit a bump in the road?” I asked.

“Then we’d both go flying through the air together.”

He pulled into a parking lot of a night club where Bobby somebody and his band were playing. The band sounded great and the dance floor was packed with jitterbugs. JB ordered a beer and I had a Dr. Pepper — the cola of Texas.

“Maybe I haven’t noticed, but isn’t that the first beer you’ve had since we arrived? Are you reforming?”

He looked at me as if surprised or maybe defensive. “Well no…I’ve had beer.  It’s just that I don’t drink around Jimmie. I’m afraid he would go back and tell his mother and she would try to limit his visitations. She has told me that I’m a bad influence on him because I’ve taken him riding on the motorcycle and out to the drilling sight, where the language can get raunchy or profane. When I get back to camp, I’ll make my usual quota again.”

A slow dance tune began to play.  He got up, took my hand and led me onto the dance floor. He held me close to him and I put my head on his shoulder. The thought occurred to me that if he wasn’t so heavily into beer drinking, perhaps I could….I stopped myself in the middle of my thought. “ This is crazy! What am I thinking?”

It was almost midnight when we pulled into the garage. I helped JB fasten the cover on his car and went into the house to get ready for bed.

“Let’s sit up and talk a while….tomorrow night you’ll be here all alone and I’ll be chugging away on a train back to camp. We can sleep late in the morning,” he suggested.

I made some coffee and took it into the living room. “Are you hungry?” I asked.

“Not really….I’m still stuffed from dinner, but if you’re hungry, there must be something in the refrigerator that looks good. You know, we should have brought some pie back with us.”

I found some leftover cornbread from the night before and a jar of Lily’s fig jam. It was an odd combination, but it did look interesting.

“I can’t believe you’re going to eat that stale cornbread. Lily usually uses it for chicken stuffing.”

“Well JB, I don’t think you Texans will ever figure out the ways of the Yankees.

He came over to where I was standing and took the dish of cornbread from my hands and placed it on a table. He put his arms around me and without any warning, he kissed me — the very same way he did after the marriage ceremony. He just held me close and neither one of us said a word. When I looked up at him, he kissed me again.

“I was waiting for you to slap my face, but since you didn’t, I want you to know that I think I’m falling in love with you. Forgive me, Laurel….I had no intention of complicating your life by letting this happen. I couldn’t control the feelings that came over me these past two weeks. Maybe I’ve loved you all along, from the day you offered me your seat on the bus. You were different from all the girls I’ve known. You had no idea who I was or what I had — you just innocently offered to help me get back to camp. The thought never occurred to anyone else on that bus, while I was standing there begging the driver to let me ride to town. I hung around for a whole year….just hoping….just hoping that the fence you had around you would eventually come down.”

His eyes were pleading for me to understand.

“I suppose you know you have a reputation of being a playboy. Why would you ever give me a second glance? I’ve seen the Texas girls in the newspapers and in the stores. They are absolutely gorgeous and probably have cute accents — I’m a plain country girl from New ‘Jersey.’”

“I may have been a playboy at one time, but I learned my lesson. After the accident, I had a long recovery period ahead of me. Those gorgeous girls forgot all about me and found other playboys to show them a good time. It was very depressing for me to accept the fact that I was being used. That’s why I joined the army — everybody is treated equally and I found out who my real friends were. It wasn’t easy to get into the army with that metal plate in my head, but I knew the right people. I’ve had time to find myself and think about the future….that is, if there is one out there for me. I really never expected to go overseas and hopefully, it isn’t too late to get the orders changed.”

“JB, I don’t know what to say. This puts a whole new spin on our relationship. I want to take my life one day at a time. Everyone’s future is so uncertain right now.  I’ve made a promise to Bob and I’m carrying his child. I just….I just want to wait and see what tomorrow brings.”

“That sounds fair.” He kissed me on the forehead and went into his room.

I went out onto the patio and sat under the stars for a long time. It was so peaceful and quiet.  Every once in a while I’d hear some bird calls — maybe a bird looking for its mate — or just looking for a mate. Life is like that — deep down all God’s creatures yearn for a mate.

It wasn’t too long ago that I wondered if JB had feelings for me, but I discounted the possibility, thinking that he would have made his moves more aggressively over time. But now I see he preferred to play his game like the fox and the chicken house. We enjoyed a comfortable friendship together. Without him, well, no telling what decision I would have been forced to make on my own. He assured me, protected me, and supported me in this most bewildering time in my life. How could I ever repay him for his kindness — and now love enters into the picture. Should I feel guilty about any obligation I owe him? I would have to back off because of his love for booze. In no uncertain terms would I ever want to be married to an alcoholic and, although I shouldn’t accuse him of being one, he definitely seemed to be a habitual beer drinker. That weakness would not provide the type of environment I’d want for my children.

I went back into my room and closed the drapes. Somehow, I could still hear JB saying, “I was waiting for you to slap my face.” Why didn’t I slap him? He was expecting me to do so. What had caused me to return his kiss?  Could it possibly be that I was falling in love with him — or was I being influenced by all the luxuries that suddenly surrounded me? I had no idea what had caused me to respond to the encounter. Perhaps it was just the loneliness and the security I found in his arms.

I picked up the locket that Bob had given me so long ago. I kissed it and held it to my heart. “Forgive me Bob, I’m so sorry I ever thought about another man. I kissed the locket again and snapped it open — his picture was missing!

CHAPTER 19

Why hadn’t it occurred to me before? Maybe I’m not pregnant! I never had morning sickness. Just because I missed my period, I suspected that I was pregnant. Suppose I had a female problem or the stress and anxiety over Bob’s departure to a war zone had disrupted my cycle’s regularity. I’d really complicate this agonizing situation if I married JB and wasn’t pregnant, I’d lose Bob for sure.
The only alternative was to schedule an appointment with an out-of-town gynecologist and base my decision on his diagnosis.

I had no idea what to expect when I entered the doctor’s office. Most of the seats were occupied by pregnant women, in the late stages of pregnancy. Fortunately, I didn’t recognize any of them — and they didn’t recognize me either. As they were called in to see the doctor, I watched them leave the room and had a hard time believing that I would ever get so rotund. Apparently, they lost the glow that JB was talking about. Their skin appeared blotchy and they looked very uncomfortable, as they struggled to get up from their chairs and shuffle down the hall. Finally, I was called in.
What happened in that examining room was the shock of my lifetime. Words could never describe the humiliation of the vaginal examination. I learned the purpose of the stirrups on the sides of the examining table, for the first time in my life and was totally embarrassed that all my private parts were on display before the gynecologist’s face.
When the examination was completed, the doctor confirmed the pregnancy and supplied me with literature on diet, vitamins and exercise — and told me to return in six weeks.
Sleep didn’t come easy that night. I must have dozed off for only a couple of hours. Marrying JB was the last thing I thought I’d ever have to decide. What had been a wonderful friendship, could take on a whole new definition over night. JB had been around for almost a year and never, in all that time, did romance enter into the relationship. He was always JB — sort of the cowboy-type — who could put a funny twist on just about any subject. I never teased him into thinking I was falling in love with him and I assumed he never intended for us to be anything but friends. He knew I was crazy about Bob and respected that serious relationship. If only there was a way to contact Bob before considering JB’s offer.
In the morning, I called Ft. Benning, in hopes that they could offer some assistance, but was discouraged by their strict and secretive military regulations. I came to the conclusion that with a war in progress, women impregnated by their soldiers were way down at the bottom of the priority list.
That night, I wrote a long letter to Bob, telling him of the pregnancy and, at the same time, trying to make JB’s offer sound like a justified, but temporary, solution to our situation. The plan appeared to provide a safe haven for the baby and me until he returned to the states. As I wrote, I wondered if he would be sympathetic and understanding of the painful and humiliating circumstances that were before me. I begged his forgiveness and assured him that I’d never love another man and would love him forever — regardless of how he felt about my decision. If he never wanted to see me again — I’d understand. If I had chosen to remain in town, the thought of an abortion certainly would be on my parent’s agenda. Instead, I chose to leave town and wait out the war with the baby.
I read the letter over and over again and, each time I read it, I felt as though my heart and soul were disintegrating within me. I didn’t want to mail the letter. I didn’t want to marry JB — and I definitely did not want to lose Bob. My head was spinning with confusion and indecision — and so, like the seasoned gambler, I laid all my chips on the table and hoped for a lucky draw. Maybe Bob would get the letter before I left and maybe he’d have a solution that would not be so complicated — and maybe this was just another “maybe” that would not work out the way I planned.

JB gave me a whole week to think over his offer. When he came to the door, he seemed very nervous and on edge. My first suspicion was that he changed his mind and decided not to get involved with me. Instead, he was concerned about the short time frame we had to complete our plans. He had a two-week furlough coming up, which he felt was sufficient to get married and settled in Dallas, before he shipped out overseas.
“Are you sure you want to go through with this for me, JB? You probably have things to do before you leave the country and you should be spending your time with your family. I have no idea how they will feel about me. They’ll probably think I’m some floozy that roped you in.”
JB laughed at that remark and replied, “No, I doubt if they will think you roped me in.”
I was confused, at the time, as to why he laughed at my comment, but didn’t pursue the subject any further.
Before I went to bed that night, I wrote a letter to my brother, who was attending school in Illinois. I shared with him that I was leaving temporarily and would explain it all later. My mail would be forwarded to him and, in turn, he could route it to my new address. I trusted him to keep my whereabouts a secret and would let me know how things were back home.
The most difficult composition was my farewell letter to my parents. I wanted them to be assured that I loved them and didn’t want them to worry. When the time was right, I would return, but for now, I had to be in control of my life in new surroundings.
One week later, at the stroke of midnight, I quietly lowered my suitcase from the bedroom window and slid down to the ground. JB was waiting. I was surprised to see an army truck parked in the alley with about 20 soldiers sitting on benches in the back. They were all on furlough and also on their way to the railroad station in Philadelphia. All the way up to the terminal I wondered what would happen if they got caught with me on board. But army trucks were common sights in New Jersey and probably wouldn’t attract any attention unless they had an accident or broke down. As we neared the station, JB suggested that he and I switch to a taxi as a precaution — just in case the MP’s decided to check out the truck.
“Well, this is it,” I thought. “There’s no turning back now. Bob probably didn’t get my letter in time to do anything.” I’m on my own now.”
As I settled into my sleeping berth, the train jerked a couple of times and began rolling. The sounds of the clickity-clack on the rails accelerated — faster and faster — I closed my eyes and dreamed I was at the Plaza with Bob.

Bob’s thoughts were far from the Plaza and its luxurious surroundings. Bob and his division were in North Africa, preparing for the invasion into Italy.

CHAPTER 20
I slept remarkably well and awoke to the same clickity-clack that lulled me to sleep after we boarded the train. The countryside was rolling by and the landscape was a beautiful green, with rolling hills in the distance.
The thought of a cup of coffee spurred me on to get washed and dressed and search the cars for JB and his buddies. The four of them were having coffee in the dining car.
“We were worrying about you, Laurel. Thought maybe you changed your mind and got off the train at the last stop,” JB said, winking at me as he pulled another chair up to the table.
“How long have you been up?” I asked.
“We never went to sleep. We drank beer and played cards all night. By the way, Laurel, do you play poker?”
Well….no, but I guess I could learn. I will not play for money. I’m afraid I’d lose it all to you card sharks.”
“I’ll bank ya’….it’s no fun unless you play for money, Laurel,” JB volunteered.
“I don’t know about that. Seems to me you’re teaching me bad habits already. Before I’d know it, you guys will have me drinking beer and dealing cards like the hussies in the Western movies. Right now, all I’m thinking about is a hot cup of coffee and some cereal. Did you fellows eat already?” I questioned.
They had, but decided to order more coffee and donuts. We sat at the table for at least an hour. I had no idea what they were talking about — all army talk. I studied their faces and the sheer joy they were having — laughing at each other and at whatever else they were discussing — all guy talk. I began to have second thoughts about my decision to marry JB. Would I be happy with his friends? Is this his idea of a good time? My mother had a great expression to apply to just such a situation — “jumping from the frying pan into the fire.” I could feel the fire at my feet already. How about — “they won’t buy the cow if you give away the milk!” Her repertoire was endless, but apparently I didn’t pay too much attention to any of it at the time — although, I must say, I did remember them. Many times I asked myself, “Would Bob buy the cow?”
The dining car had emptied and we left too. The men took a nap and I made myself comfortable by the window and watched the scenery pass by. The ride seemed endless! Once in a while the train would slow down at crossings, as it passed through the small towns along the railroad tracks. The names of the communities were posted on the depot, but rarely did any of those names seem familiar. I had no idea where we were , but we had left the rolling hills behind and the landscape was becoming quite flat, but still very green — probably the result of lots of rain or the numerous rivers in the vicinity. There were still so many miles to cover. I dozed off thinking about the fearless, patient pioneers in their covered wagons who crossed the prairies. I would not have been a good pioneer.
JB was sitting beside me when I opened my eyes. “You snore.”
“I’ve been told that before. Did I disturb the passengers?”
“I doubt it. If you did, someone would have you put off the train long ago….I mean they would have wakened you,” he snickered.
“Now I’m embarrassed! Behind my back they’ll probably refer to me as the ‘snorer‘.” I looked around and noticed everyone seemed occupied with reading or puzzles — I felt safe. JB invited me to play poker in the club car, which was a welcome change from watching the scenery — and I played for money and won.

After two days on the train, we pulled into the Dallas station. My first impression of the city was “I can’t believe any place could be this hot!”
JB laughed. “It’s going to get a lot hotter in July and August….but you’ll get used to it.”
We started down the stairs to the street level and noticed several people waving at us — one was a gentleman in a wheelchair. JB waved back. I assumed his family had come to welcome him home.
I had spoken to his mother and sister on several occasions when JB phoned home and felt relaxed in their company. His dad, who was wheelchair bound, was not quite as friendly. He sat straight and dignified and appeared to be quite tall and handsome with salt and pepper hair. He watched my every move and listened to every word I said, giving me reason to believe that he did not approve of the marriage. Well, if he objected to the arrangement, I had no intention of making an issue of his feelings. JB didn’t have to marry me — and I was confident that he would let me stay at his home while he was away.
The ride through Dallas proved one point — it was new, clean and beautiful and strikingly unlike any city back east. The women dressed stylishly and the men wore suits with ties. Indeed, my wardrobe was inadequate and obviously out of style. I wondered if JB or his mother had a sewing machine. There was no way that I could afford to buy clothes, but I could probably sew quite a few outfits at a substantial savings. Before long, those clothes would be too small and I’d have to start sewing maternity wear.
JB held my hand and squeezed it once in a while as we drove through town, as if to give me support and assurance that everything was okay. It was a long drive. His home was clear on the other side of Dallas and relatively close to a lake. My first thoughts were of mosquitoes. Were they as bad in Texas as they were in New Jersey?
JB helped me out of the car and said, “Welcome home, Laurel!”
For a second, his remark made the hair on my arm stand straight up. Those were the very words I had hoped that Bob would say to me when he carried me across the threshold. But this wasn’t Bob and JB’s remark seemed to have a ring of permanency to it. Somehow, in my heart I knew this whole arrangement wasn’t right and I should back out of it before it was too late.
His family left us off and continued on their way. “They liked you. I could tell,“ he assured me.
“How did you know that was on my mind?”
“I’ve known you a long time, Laurel. You can’t hide anything from me. I can read you like a book. You’re concerned about my dad, aren’t you?”
“Well, yes. He doesn’t appear too friendly and manages to keep his distance. I felt like I was up for auction and he was trying to decide if he should put in a bid.”
“Give him time….that’s just the way he is. He doesn’t make friends very easily. Believe me, he has to establish trust in you before he opens up. You’ll see. In a couple of weeks the two of you will be good buddies. Sometimes you have to look back at his life to judge who he is. He worked in the oil fields from the time he was about my brother’s age. His parents had a cattle ranch in West Texas and he hated being a cowboy. In his heart, he believed there was oil on the ranch because it appeared that the land had been an ancient sea at one time — samples from the layers of rock revealed exciting possibilities. He just wanted a chance to try his luck. His dad figured he’d come up with some dry holes and give up the idea. Well, the first well was dry — so was the second, but the third one was a real gusher. That excitement encouraged him to continue with the drilling. There wasn’t any job that he couldn’t do — rig builder, driller, roughneck, and sometimes working 24 hours a day. He worked hard and earned every dollar this family ever made. The sad part of the story is that he was hurt seriously several times and those injuries now have returned to haunt him in his golden years…. thus the wheelchair.”
“He doesn’t go out in the oil fields any more. Maybe once in a great while he’ll drive out there with me, but he hates to be seen in the wheelchair. He seems to be happy, in his own way, with his memories of his better days. He was a little disappointed that I wasn’t as enthusiastic about drilling for oil as he was, so he insisted that I study geology, in hopes that it would spark some interest in me. My interest has always been in motorcycles and I can’t explain it….even though it nearly killed me.”

JB picked up my luggage and carried it into what he referred to as “your” room. It was a large room with two windows and a door that led to the back yard. I opened the door and stepped out onto the patio that overlooked the pool. “This is the most beautiful home I’ve ever seen….just like Hollywood.”
“No, just like Texas,” he responded.
“JB, that bed looks so comfortable. Would you mind if I took a bath and a short nap? I’m really tired from the trip and wouldn’t mind a bit, if you visited with your family this evening. It would also give them the opportunity to discuss family affairs without me being present.”
“They’d appreciate that and so would I, but I want you to feel included in our family get-togethers.” He gave me a light hug and went over to his private side of the house — which he reminded me was “off limits.” A few minutes later, I heard the motorcycle take off down the street.
My curiosity about that “private” side of the house led me to try the door knob to his bedroom and was disappointed to find it locked. What could he possibly have in there that he would guard with such secrecy? Across the hall from his bedroom was his den. That door was unlocked.
As the door swung open, a sense of guilt swept over me. I was well aware that I shouldn’t be snooping around, but I just had to satisfy my inquisitive natural instinct. Locked behind the glass doors of the display cases was the story of JB’s accomplishments and disappointments. There were trophies in all sizes and shapes, the most beautiful one was that of a rider on his motorcycle, which was molded in brass or gold. One wall displayed pictures of him in the winner’s circles and action photos taken during races. Tucked away behind the door was the newspapers’ coverage of his accident at Daytona Beach. There were also pictures and articles that followed up on his recovery. I became oblivious of my surroundings and studied every picture and read all the news and magazine articles. The description of the accident was so seriously vivid that tears filled my eyes, at the thought of the agony he endured over time. I turned away to leave and was horrified to see JB standing in the doorway. I could see he was angry.
“You haven’t even unpacked your bag yet and already you’re breaking the house rules! When I told you this was a ‘private’ area, I had hoped that you would respect my wishes. This room is my ‘life’ and it is rarely shared with anyone except my housekeeper….whom I’ve known all my life.”
“I’m sorry, JB. I was just looking for you to say goodnight, just in case I was asleep when you got home.”
His face softened a bit, but a trace of a sneer remained. “Goodnight, Laurel”….and he locked the door to the den.

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.

Bob was at my home bright and early on Saturday morning. The sun peeped in and out of the clouds most of the day. Traffic on the highway was light, so we made good time as we headed toward the mountains. The flat countryside slowly transformed into rolling hills and the road was like a roller coaster — up and down and around the curves. Several times we stopped to enjoy the views of the sweeping valleys, the tiny old farmhouses in the distance, with ribbons of smoke swirling from the chimneys, and dairy cows grazing in their pastures.

           It was almost lunch time, as we drove into a quaint little mountainside village. It appeared to be a place where time stood still and everyone was content just to hold on to the necessities of life and the talents of the community.

           From somewhere around the corner, the aroma of apple pie drew us to a small coffee shop. We were greeted like old friends who came there every day and were assigned to a table by the window. The homemade menu featured such “rib-stickin” goodies as beef stew with hot biscuits, apple pie a la mode and coffee with real cream — all of which, we ate with gusto.

           The clouds were becoming very dark and overcast. Every once in a while a few snow flakes would hit the windshield and then, almost as if we had entered another dimension, the snow began falling so heavily that we could hardly see the road before us.

           “We’d better stop right here,” Bob said as he pulled into a service station.

           The attendant walked over to the car. “You should wait out the storm. The roads can be very dangerous, especially without chains. Visibility may drop to zero….pretty risky if you’re not familiar with the bends in the road….you can get stuck or have an accident.”

           “Guess you’d better call your parents so they don’t worry. Tell them we’ll be back as soon as the roads are cleared,” Bob suggested.

      While I made the call, he got a thermos of coffee and some sandwiches.

       “I’ve rented a room at the motel. The roads won’t be open until morning….so we might as well be safe and comfortable….”

more tomorrow - I prayed all the way up here that we would get snowed in…

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 I was sitting on the front porch when a strange car pulled up to the curb. The soldier at the wheel didn’t look familiar until he stepped out of the car and turned toward me.

       “Bob,” I screamed and ran down the stairs to meet him. Our arms closed around each other and we kissed over and over again. He held me at arm’s length, looked me up and down and said, “Laurel, you look great! You lost that high school girl look.”

       “Well thank you! You are the handsomest soldier I ever saw in my entire life. You look great in your uniform — just like the GI’s on the billboards. I’m so glad you’re home….you‘ll never know how much I‘ve missed you.…” We leaned against the car for while and talked about things happening around town when, out of curiosity I asked, “Where’s your car?”

       “It’s a long story….we’ll talk about it later. I borrowed this one from my brother. “Why don’t you get dressed and I’ll pick you up in about an hour?”

       “I’ll be ready,” and I watched him drive off.

       We had dinner at the same old inn where we dined before he left for camp. It didn’t seem possible that so much had happened since we were last there.

        I glanced around the dining room for Penny Parker — she wasn‘t there. When I mentioned to Bob that I had seen her driving his car, he seemed uncomfortable and I hated myself for mentioning it.

       “Laurel, there is something about Penny that you may not understand. We dated for about a year, but the trust that I had expected from her was not in the relationship. I knew that she was dating several men, some seriously at the time, and we were just friends. A few days before I left for camp, she came to my house and asked if I’d sell her my car or perhaps loan it to her until I got back from service. She claimed she had relatives in Haddonfield and hated to ride the bus to visit them.”

       “I really enjoyed driving the coupe, but since I wouldn’t be using it for a while and because she seemed so sincere, I gave her permission to use it. I left the keys under the front seat with the understanding that she would take care of it and get it serviced.”

           “She wrecked it the second week she had it. She and her boyfriend were on their way to be married when he ran the car off the road and into a tree. Neither of them was hurt. They just left the car and took a cab to the justice of the peace and got married. My car was towed away by the police and I had all kinds of problems with the insurance company.”

more tomorrow – Now that she’s married…

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