Lily of the Springs (21 page)

Today, I wore a grass green capped-sleeved linen sheath, belted at the waist, along with dyed-to-match high heels Betty had loaned me (which were, incidentally, a half-size too small and
killing
me.) Betty had also loaned me a single strand of pearls and clip-on earrings to finish my new look.

No wonder Jake didn’t recognize me, all dolled up as I was. When he looked away from me, my paralysis disappeared.

“
Jake
!” Startled by my shout, Debby Ann began to scream. I waved and took a step toward him, and that’s when his eyes found me, the vivid blue of them piercing through my skin and raising goose bumps on my bare arms.

He’s lost weight, I thought. His cheekbones seemed sharper than I remembered. He looked older, too. But after all, he’d been fighting in a war. I supposed killing folks would make anybody grow up.

For a long moment, Jake simply stared at me, and the look on his face reminded me of the young boy I’d known down by Foster Creek. He looked lost, unsure of himself. And somehow, vulnerable. My heart swelled with tenderness.

And then he smiled. His eyes crinkled at the corners in that endearing way that had always turned my limbs to jelly. Debby Ann screamed louder, her little face turning as red as a cherry. I barely noticed. Because Jake had dropped his duffle bag on the sidewalk and was coming toward me.

I rushed forward, almost tripping on my wobbly spiked heels. Debby Ann kept screaming. And then Jake’s arms closed around me, pocketing the crying baby in between our bodies. I clutched him, breathing in his Old Spice aftershave, feeling the warmth and substance of his body against mine, the thud of his heart, the comforting, measured breathing that assured me that, yes, he was here, alive and well, in my arms.

“Lord, Lily Rae. I missed you.” His gaze swept over my face as if he was trying to convince himself it was really me.

My eyes blurred with tears. “Oh, Jake. You don’t know how bad I missed you. Them fourteen weeks seemed like forever.”

Lowering his head, he kissed me long and deep, with an urgency I never remembered experiencing before, not even in those early days of stolen passion in the backseat of his car. His moustache felt exotic as his mouth moved against mine, tasting leisurely as if we had all the time in the world. I sighed into his kiss. From somewhere in the back of my consciousness, I heard Debby Ann still squalling, in full tantrum-mode now.

Jake finally broke the kiss and gazed down at me.

I giggled, looking up at him with adoration. “Your moustache tickles.”

He grinned, and shot a glance at Debby Ann. “What’s she all riled up about?”

I turned my attention to the baby, drawing away from Jake’s embrace and patting Debby Ann on the back. “Oh, she’s been fussin’ all morning.”

“Let me have her.”

To my astonishment, Jake took her out of my arms and cradled her. It was the first time I could remember him holding Debby Ann by choice. My man
had
grown up.

Jake rocked the baby in his arms and gazed down at her, grinning. I didn’t think I’d ever seen a happier look on his face.

“You listen here, little lady. Your poppa’s home from the war, and you’re gonna have to settle down now. I’ll just bet your momma has spoiled you rotten.” He looked up and gave me a grin. “Well, the boss is home now, and things are gonna get back to normal.”

***

I lay naked on my side and traced the broad expanse of Jake’s shoulders as he slept next to me. Lord, I felt loved all the way through to my bones.

The first time, it had been over way too quickly, but the second time, Jake had made up for it, loving me so sweetly and thoroughly that I’d climaxed three times—something that had never happened to me before. And afterwards, instead of rolling over and falling asleep as he usually did, he held me in his arms, his head propped up on a pillow as he smoked a Camel, and began to talk.

“At first, the boredom almost kills you. Sittin’ in that cold hootchie
…
that’s
a earth bunker built into a hillside on the frontlines. It was still cold in early April and quiet for the most part…the Chinese were hunkered up for the winter, but we were on alert because of some action on Old Baldy where we overran a UN force to take the hill. So by the time my company got there, nothing much was happening. The weather had turned cold again, and I reckon a man don’t feel much like fightin’ when we’re chilled to the bone.”

He took a drag on his cigarette and stared into space. Even though I could feel the heat of his body next to me, it felt as if he’d left me…had gone somewhere far away. I lay with my head against his shoulder, barely breathing, my fingers playing with the silky hair on his chest.

“We sat in that stinkin’ hootchie, smokin’ cigarettes, playing cards, bull-shitting each other. There was seven of us…from all over the country. Most of them farm boys like me. And then there was this fella from New York City called Salvatore Bertocelli…Sal, we called him, because it was easier. At first, I didn’t much care for him. He was a smartass Italian fella, and he liked to kid me about being a hillbilly from Kentucky. But hell! He kidded everbody about everything. You just couldn’t help but like the sonuvabitch. He was always grinnin’ and makin’ us laugh. And in a place like that…
shit
! You either had to laugh, or you’d be bawlin’ like a baby if you gave into how scared you were.

Sal’s daddy owned a pizza pie place in…Brooklyn, I think it was. And Sal was always talkin’ about how he couldn’t wait to get back there and eat one of his daddy’s pizza pies. Lord, he made it sound so good, it had
my
mouth waterin’ and I ain’t never tasted a pizza pie, and don’t know if I care to. But that Sal…he was the one that kept us all going. No matter how down we got…how homesick we was…Sal would up and say something that would make us bust a gut laughing.”

He paused and took another drag of his Camel, slowly releasing a stream of smoke. It wafted through the sultry air of the bedroom and disappeared. Jake was silent so long I wondered if he’d fallen asleep. But then he spoke again, “Sal took three bullets in the chest on July 13
^th
on the banks of the Kumsong River. I was with him when he died.”

I drew in a sharp breath, whispering, “Oh, no, Jake.”

His voice roughened with emotion. “I was holdin’ onto him, telling him it wasn’t so bad…he was going to be okay. Bald-faced lyin’ to him. I could see the light in his eyes going out. Blood was bubbling out of his mouth. He looked at me, and he said, ‘Hey, Hillbilly. This thing’s almost over. You keep your head down, pal, and go on home to your pretty wife and baby.’ I told him to hang on, that help was on the way. He just shook his head, grinned and said, ‘You ever get to Brooklyn, go order a pie at Salvatore’s on Rockaway Avenue. It’s the best in town.’ That’s all he said…and then, just like that, he died.”

After a long moment of silence, I turned my head and planted a kiss on his chest. “I’m so sorry, honey. I can’t imagine how awful that was for you.”

Jake didn’t respond. He drew away from me to stub out his cigarette in the ashtray on the bedside table, and then turned on his side with his back facing me. I snuggled up against him, my hand caressing his arm.

“It’s good to be home,” he said quietly.

After a few moments of silence, I realized he’d fallen asleep. I cautiously crawled out of bed, tugged on a robe and went down the stairs to check on Debby Ann. She was still sleeping like a log—a real danger sign that I’d be up all night—but I left her there and returned to Jake.

Now I traced a fingernail across the tattoo of an eagle on the back of Jake’s neck—something that hadn’t been there when he’d left for Korea. Something else he’d brought back from that foreign country along with a new maturity.

He
does
love me, I thought, my heart swelling with joy. There had been lots of doubt in our nine months of marriage. That memory of our wedding day—the moment when I’d seen his getaway bag on the floor—always intruded even during the good times. But now, for the first time, I felt like I could stop thinking of myself as the girl who’d trapped a husband, forcing him into an unwanted marriage. He loved me. This afternoon’s tenderness was proof of that. So was his sharing of what had happened to him in Korea.

“Are you trying to tickle me?”

I gasped as he rolled over to face me, blue eyes twinkling. I hadn’t realized he was awake. “I was just admiring your tattoo. Did it hurt to get it done?”

“Nah.” Jake yawned and stretched his arms over his head. “And even if it did, I wouldn’t admit to you,” he added with a grin. “Hey, I brought you something from Korea. You want it now?”

I gave him a playful swat on the arm. “Well, of
course
I do! Go get it!”

He scrambled off the bed, and naked as a jaybird, stalked out of the bedroom. I giggled. “Did anybody ever tell you what a cute behind you have, soldier?” I called after him.

His voice came from the living room. “At least once or twice a week!”

He returned with his duffle bag and placed it on the foot of the rumpled bed. I sat, my knees drawn up and my back resting against the headboard, a sheet drawn modestly around me. I watched as Jake drew a cardboard box from the duffle bag and handed it to me. Then he settled himself on the side of the bed next to me, his eyes sparkling like a young boy on Christmas morning.

I smiled and began to open the box. “This is so sweet! You know how much I love presents…
oh, Jake
!” I looked up at him, amazed. “Oh, she’s
so beautiful
!”

It was a Korean doll wearing a traditional silk gown of red, gold and blue. Her porcelain face was oval-shaped and flawless; her slanted dark eyes exotic. In one hand, she coyly held a brightly colored traditional fan etched with Korean letters.

“Oh, Jake! Thank you! I
love
her!” I threw my arms around him, smothering his face with kisses.

Jake laughed and finally drew away from me. “Wait! What do you think of her necklace?”

I looked down at the doll again, and for the first time, noticed a narrow gold circlet around her neck. “Hmmm…interesting looking necklace. In fact…” I examined it closer. “It don’t look like a necklace at all. It looks like a…” My voice faded away. I looked up at Jake, and suddenly realized why he had that goofy grin on his face. “Oh, Jake!” I touched the band of gold around the doll’s neck, my finger trembling. “Is it what I think it is?”

He nodded and took the doll out of my hands. With a twist of the wrist, he popped the doll’s head off and slipped the ring off the stem of her neck, cupping it in his hand.

He gazed into my eyes, and although he was still smiling, I could see the earnest look in his. “Lily Rae, I always felt guilty about you getting married with your mama’s ring, and having to give it back. When I thought I might die in Korea, my biggest regret was that I never got you a ring. So just before we shipped back home, I found this for you in a little shop in Pusan. I’d already bought the doll in a village near the front, and when I saw how slender her neck was…well, it seemed like a good way to surprise you.” He took my left hand and slipped the ring on my finger.

My eyes blurred with tears. I was so overcome with emotion, I couldn’t say a thing except, “Oh, Jake…”

He lifted my chin so to meet my gaze. “I love you, Lily Rae,” he whispered.

“Oh, I love you, too, Jake. I always have.” Tears streamed down my face. “And I swear to you, I’ll
never
stop loving you. Not as long as I live.”

***

Later that afternoon, I brought the body of the Korean doll and its head to Jake so he could put it back together again. I’d tried, but it wouldn’t stay on. After several unsuccessful attempts, Jake finally resorted to carpenter’s glue to reattach the head. It stayed on for almost a year. But one day in June of 1954, I walked into the bedroom and saw the decapitated doll on the dresser, her beautiful black head lying at her dainty feet. And from that time on, no matter how many times it was re-glued, the doll’s head refused to stay on.

Mother’s Kentucky Butterscotch Pie

Flaky Pie Crust:

1 cup flour

½ cup shortening

1 teaspoon sugar

½ teaspoon salt

¼ teaspoon vinegar

1 egg

2 T water

With fork, mix together flour, shortening, sugar and salt. Mix egg with vinegar and water. Add to flour mixture, adding more water if needed, one teaspoon at a time. Form into a ball and chill fifteen minutes. Roll out and place into pie pan. For baked crust, prick dough with fork tines and bake at 400 degrees for 8-10 minutes. Cool before filling.

Filling:

1 c brown sugar

3 T butter

4 T cream or evaporated milk

1 c milk

6 level T flour

3 egg yolks

3 egg whites

Cook the first three ingredients until thick and brown. Mix milk into flour and add beaten egg yolks. Stir into first mixture, stirring constantly on low heat until thickened. Pour into baked shell. Beat egg whites until stiff. Cover top of butterscotch mixture and bake in 400 degree oven for 3-5 minutes.