The Diary (16 page)

Now it was too late.

It all came over her in a rush like a tidal wave: everything she'd lost. And now her grandmother, too.

Their next-door neighbor, Dottie Simms, came over and put an arm around her. Dottie was around the same age as Mildred, but any similarities between the two women ended there. Where Mildred tended to put on airs, Dottie was down-to-earth, happiest puttering around in her yard in a pair of baggy dungarees and an old shirt of her husband's. When she wasn't gardening, she was cooking for her family. Growing up, Elizabeth had often been lured over to the Simmses' house by the heavenly smells wafting from the kitchen. It was Mrs. Simms who'd provided homemade cookies and, when need be, a sympathetic ear, neither of which Elizabeth had ever gotten from her mother.

But right now her neighbor's sympathy was harder to bear than her mother's scorn. She felt herself stiffen as Mrs. Simms murmured kindly, “Go on, dear, have yourself a good cry. You'll feel better.”

Nothing is going to make me feel better
, she thought. Nearly everyone she'd ever cared about was gone: her father, Bob, Ingrid, her grandmother. AJ, too, whom she was certain she would never see again.

Without a word, she took off down the sidewalk. She walked at a brisk pace, not running but not slowing, either, when it started to drizzle. She didn't know where she was headed, nor did she care. By the time she reached the main thoroughfare into town, the rain was coming down hard, lashing at her in waves. Even then, she kept going, mindless of the fact that she was soaked to the skin. She walked all the way into town and beyond, where the main drag became a residential street lined with modest homes. She followed it for more than a mile until the homes gave way to farmlands. A few motorists stopped to ask if she wanted a ride, but she waved them on. Even with her feet blistered and her clothing drenched, she had no wish for an audience to her misery.

She was nearing the turnoff to Shaw Creek when a familiar blue-and-cream Buick coupe slowed onto the shoulder just ahead of her, sending a rooster-comb of muddy water spraying from its back tires. The window on the driver's side rolled down, and a familiar blond head thrust its way out to shout above the pounding of the rain, “For God's sake, Bets, get in before you catch your death!”

“
How did you
know where to find me?” she asked as she sat huddled in the front seat of Bob's car.

He was bent over, fiddling with the dial on the heater. “Just luck, I guess.”

“Did my mother send you?”

“No. She only called to tell me that you'd left the house pretty upset and that she didn't know where you'd gone.” He straightened to eye her solemnly. “I'm sorry about your grandma, Bets.”

“Thanks.” She began to shiver in earnest.

“It was my idea to go looking for you,” he went on. “I just didn't expect to find you all the way out here, half drowned. Here, put this on.” He removed his jacket and draped it over her shoulders.

“I'll get it all wet,” she protested.

“It doesn't matter. I won't be needing it after tomorrow.”

“Why? What's tomorrow?”

“I leave for Fort Riley in the morning.”

“You enlisted?” She gaped at him in astonishment.

He smiled and said, “Does that surprise you? I told you I was going to.”

“I didn't think you'd actually go through with it.”

“Well, I did.”

“What about school? I thought you were going to wait until after graduation.”

“Things have changed.” He looked past her, the muscles in his jaw tightening.

This is all my fault
, she thought.
I drove him to it
.

She gave a small, choked cry. “Oh, Bob.” Suddenly it was all too much.

But he was quick to ward off a discussion, saying in a brisk tone, “Let's get you home and into some dry clothes. You must be chilled to the bone.” He put the car into gear and checked for oncoming traffic before pulling cautiously back onto the road.

“Not home. Please, anywhere but there,” she managed to reply through clenched, chattering teeth. She couldn't bear it after the awful things her mother had said to her.

“We could go to Grammy and Grandpa's, I suppose,” he offered somewhat hesitantly. She remembered his mentioning some time ago that he'd be housesitting for his grandparents the week before school started. Presumably they were still in Omaha, where his grandfather had been scheduled for knee surgery.

She understood how difficult this must be for Bob and was quick to assure him, “Just until I dry off.” After a moment, she inquired politely, “Your grandpa's okay? Did the operation go well?”

“Without a hitch. Grandpa says the old knee's better than ever and that it's the physical therapy that'll be the death of him.” Bob caught himself and winced at the unfortunate choice of words. “Sorry.”

But Elizabeth remembered that above all else, her grandmother had had a sense of humor, so she managed a small smile. “You'll send him my best, won't you?”

“Sure I will.” Bob fell silent, as if at the reminder that they were no longer a couple. In days past she wouldn't have had to send her best wishes; she'd have been delivering them in person.

Half an hour later they were seated at the kitchen table in his grandparents' modest brick house on Woodrow Lane, Elizabeth wearing an old woolen sweater of Bob's and a pair of his grandmother's slacks that was several sizes too big. The sweater bagged nearly to her knees, and the only thing holding up the slacks was the belt buckled on its last notch around her waist. Her wet clothes were in the dryer in the laundry room off the kitchen. Faintly, she could hear the ticking sound made by the buttons on her dress as it went around and around in the metal drum.

Bob had made them hot cocoa, and now, sipping from her mug, Elizabeth felt the knotted muscles in her neck and shoulders start to loosen. She found herself thinking of all the meals she'd eaten with Bob's family over the years. From his mother and grandmother, she'd learned how to prepare all of Bob's favorite foods. From his father, an avid bird-watcher, she'd learned to distinguish the various kinds of birds that flocked around the feeder he'd erected outside their kitchen window. The truth was, she felt more at home here and at Bob's parents' house than at her own.

“How did your folks take it when you told them you enlisted?” she asked, thinking of how worried they must be at the very real possibility that he'd see combat.

“Pretty well,” he said, slowly stirring his cocoa with his spoon while he waited for it to cool. She remembered that he liked it almost lukewarm, a legacy from when he'd burned his tongue as a child. “They'll be sad to see me go, of course, but they're proud that I'm serving my country.”

“What time do you leave in the morning?”

“First thing.”

“And after that?”

“Six weeks of basic training. Then I'll most likely be shipping out to Korea, as soon as they assign me to a unit.”

Elizabeth felt fearful at the thought. So many men had already lost their lives or been gravely injured in the war; several were boys whom she'd known in school. It worried her to think of Bob being in danger, and the thought that she would only have learned about it through the grapevine if circumstances hadn't thrown them together this last time was nearly intolerable. “Would you have told me you'd enlisted? If you hadn't run into me?” she asked.

He frowned, his gaze fixed on a point just past her ear. “I didn't see any reason to. I didn't think it would matter to you one way or the other. Also, I was afraid you might take it the wrong way.”

“What way is that?”

He brought his gaze back to her, his handsome face troubled. His fair hair, still damp from the rain, hung in tatters over his furrowed brow, and his eyes were bloodshot. When he smiled at last, it was almost heartbreaking. “I didn't want you to see it as some ploy to get you to marry me.”

Elizabeth's heart swelled with the knowledge that he still loved her, and at the same time it distressed her to think of the misery it must cause him. “And all this time, I thought you were angry with me.”

“I was. Fit to be tied, as a matter of fact.” His smile faded. “If that bum had been around, I'd have punched his lights out.” He meant AJ, of course. AJ, who was miles from here, perhaps never to return. She felt something twist in her gut but quickly pushed the thought from her mind. Right now this was about Bob, and he deserved better than to be treated like some poor substitute. “I did everything I could to forget you,” he went on. “I went out and got drunk every night for a week. I even tried dating other women.” The sheepish look on his face told her how well that experiment had gone. “Nothing worked. The trouble is, Bets, you're it for me. You'll always be my girl.”

Her mouth twisted in a mirthless smile. “It would be better if you hated me. Why do you have to be such a nice guy?”

He shrugged. “I can't help it. Guess I'm just built that way.”

“You're not making it any easier, you know.”

“Maybe I don't want to make it any easier.” He reached across the table and took her hand. “The thing is, Bets, I've been giving it a lot of thought. We were together a long time. I guess it's only natural to wonder if the grass is greener on the other side when you're looking to spend the rest of your life with someone. I'm not going to lie to you and say I'm okay with what happened. But in a way, I … I kind of understand. I'm sick about it, yeah, but I don't blame you. I just hope that once you've gotten this out of your system, you'll see that there are other things in life that matter more than whatever you think you have with this guy.”

She started to shiver again. “What are you saying, Bob?”

“I'm saying I still want to marry you, if you'll have me.” He brought the tip of his forefinger to her lips, blocking any words of protest before they could form. “No. Don't answer. You'll have plenty of time to think it over while I'm away. Just promise you'll write to me.”

“Of course.” It seemed the least she could do.

“Promise?” His eyes searched her face. She gave a solemn nod, drawing an invisible X over her chest, and some of the tightness went out of his jaw. “Okay. Good. Because I don't think I could stand it otherwise. Just no ‘Dear John' letter, please. If the answer is no, I'd rather you tell me in person.”

Elizabeth didn't know what to say. It would have been less cruel, she knew, to give him her answer now than to lend him false hope, but she felt confused all of a sudden, not sure of what she wanted. Maybe because she was still reeling from her grandmother's death, or maybe because she'd realized, sitting here in his grandparents' kitchen, how much she'd missed Bob's companionship. AJ's vague assurances and the few cursory lines on the postcards he'd sent seemed all at once puny weighed against the goodness and security of the life Bob was offering.

“Just come back, that's the main thing. Don't try to play the hero while you're over there.” Whatever her decision would ultimately be, she couldn't bear the thought of a world without Bob.

He drove her home as soon as her clothes were dry enough to put back on. The storm had passed, the only evidence of it now the wet pavement, slick in the glare of his headlights, to which yellow leaves were stuck, like so many telegrams announcing the imminent arrival of autumn.

It wasn't until he pulled up in front of her house that she felt herself grow cold again. She imagined her mother pacing back and forth inside, bemoaning this latest assault on her stronghold, which had turned out to be as flimsy as the straw house in the story of the three little pigs. Still blaming her, no doubt. Elizabeth, having had a chance to think it over, believed she had a better understanding of why her mother had become so unhinged. The fact that Mildred and her mother had never been close had only made it worse: With Grandma Judith's passing, gone, too, was their chance of ever reconciling. But none of that changed how hard it would be to walk through that door. Elizabeth felt sick with apprehension and knew with a sudden, terrifying certainty that if Bob were to ask her to run away with him this very night, she would do so, if only to escape.

He walked her to the door, where they hugged goodbye. Bob's arms around her were a safe bulwark against the storm to come, and she clung to him for a long moment, reluctant to let go. When at last they drew apart, she saw that there were tears in his eyes. She felt a little choked up herself.

“Write to me!” he called back as he jogged down the path.

She smiled and waved to him, but her heart was breaking.

CHAPTER NINE

“I wonder what happened to those letters,” Sarah said.

Emily glanced about the darkened living room at the emptied cabinets and sealed cartons as if expecting the letters to magically appear. “They must have gotten lost at some point, maybe during one of the moves.” This was the only one of their parents' homes that Sarah and Emily had known, but in the years before they were born, during the time their dad had been in the military, their parents had changed addresses several times.

One thing was for certain: After an entire week of emptying out every cupboard and drawer and sorting through every box of stored mementos, Sarah was convinced that if those letters were still in existence, they would have surfaced by now. Unless …

“Dad might've kept the ones she sent him,” she said. For all she knew, they could be tucked in his old footlocker, which they had yet to go through—they'd feared that the sight of his old uniform and medals would prove too much for them.

“If he had any letters, I'm sure they're long gone by now,” Emily said.

The sisters exchanged a knowing smile. Their father had been the polar opposite of their mother in that regard: He'd seldom saved anything that he didn't absolutely need. Even the workshop where he'd spent hours tinkering with various projects had been as spare and organized as the man himself.