The Diary (5 page)

She nodded in understanding. “And when you saw me today, it brought it all back.”

“Not at first. It wasn't until I was sketching you …” He shook his head slowly, trying to make sense of it himself. “I guess there's a part of me that wanted to get back at you for what happened. Not that I hold you responsible in any way. Please don't think that.” He cast her a worried look.

“I don't.” Her reply was as direct and straightforward as Elizabeth herself.

He remembered that she'd never been one to shy from the truth. He thought back to the time when their fifth grade teacher, Miss Jewell, had left suddenly in the middle of the school year. When their principal, Mr. Willett, had made the announcement to the class that Miss Jewell wouldn't be coming back, he'd been vague about the reason for her abrupt departure. All he would say was that it was “of a personal nature.” That was when Elizabeth, age ten, had raised her hand to volunteer, “My mother says that Miss Jewell is going to have a baby. I don't see why she had to leave because of that. There's nothing wrong with having a baby, is there?”

“So you forgive me?” he asked, a smile teasing a corner of his mouth.

“There's nothing to forgive.” She touched his arm, a feather-light brush of fingertips that acted on him like a jolt of electricity. “I just wish you'd told me sooner. I don't know what I would've done, but I wouldn't have sat back and kept my mouth shut, I can assure you.”

“I don't doubt it.” His smile widened. He found himself liking this side of her. She was as fearless as she was forthright, not at all the shallow temptress he'd shown in his caricature.

Right now AJ wished more than anything that he could take her in his arms. It was wrong, he knew; she belonged to another. But his emotions had always guided his course with Elizabeth, and they were doing so now, bumpy though the course might be. He stared at the water tumbling over the rocks as he fought to regain control. He'd learned the hard way that a single rash act can have long-lasting consequences, and he didn't want that to happen with her.

There was a brief moment, though, when he could have sworn she wanted him to kiss her. She was looking at him intently, her head tilted back a bit so that her throat was exposed where the top button of her blouse was undone, a pale column flickering with reflected light. A dragonfly stitched its way through the air over her head, iridescent wings flashing. The only sounds were the playful shouts of children in the distance, the cricking of insects, and the rushing of the creek.

AJ was kept from acting on his impulses by a deep voice booming, “Bets! Is that you?” He recognized it at once as Bob's. Bobby M, they'd called him in school, because he'd been one of several boys in their class named Bobby. The same Bob who was now engaged to Elizabeth. A sour taste rose in AJ's throat. He knew he should hate Bob. Through the years, he'd certainly tried hard enough. The trouble was, it was impossible to dislike the guy, even when he was poking his handsome head between the fronds of the willow that partially screened AJ and Elizabeth from view. “There you are.” Bob broke into a grin as his gaze fell on Elizabeth. “Say, I thought that was you I saw heading off in this direction. I said to myself, ‘That fellow she's with looks a lot like AJ.' And darn if I wasn't right. Hello, my man. How the heck have you been?” Bob stepped forward, pushing the fronds aside and stooping to offer AJ a hearty handshake.

“Fine. I'm fine,” said AJ, extracting his hand as soon as he could from Bob's enthusiastic grip.

“I ran into AJ at the fair, and we got to talking,” Elizabeth explained, color blooming in her cheeks. “I hope I didn't keep you waiting, dear. We took a stroll, and I … I guess I lost track of time.”

AJ doubted whether another man would readily buy such an explanation after coming upon his fiancée and a potential rival by themselves in a secluded spot. But Bob wasn't like other men. He appeared not to have a jealous bone in his body, a quality that arose not from stupidity or obtuseness but from supreme and, in Bob's case, well-founded confidence. Bob knew he had nothing to fear from other men. No one could touch him in terms of looks, charm, or athletic ability. He was not without ambition, either. Unlike many of their classmates who'd chosen farming over furthering their education, he'd gone on to college; he was at the University of Nebraska at Lincoln, AJ had learned when they'd run into each other downtown. Worst of all, Bob was nice. “A swell fellow” were the words most often used to describe him. In school he'd gone out of his way to be kind to those less well-equipped socially than he, and as captain of the football team, he'd always made time for those of his teammates in need of extra coaching. Even his attitude toward the boys with crushes on his girlfriend had been one of pitying bemusement, as though he'd found it perfectly understandable that they would be in love with Elizabeth.

“Haven't seen you around in a while,” Bob remarked, dropping onto the ground beside AJ. “What have you been up to, my man?”

“Oh, this and that,” said AJ with a shrug.

“AJ's just being modest,” Elizabeth put in. “He's been making good money doing caricatures at county fairs. He's quite good at it. You should see the one he did of me. It was amazing how he captured my likeness.” She flashed AJ a sly glance.

“That so? Why, you've been holding out on us, AJ.” Bob gave him a comradely slap on the back, looking genuinely pleased to hear of his success. “We never knew you had a hidden talent.”

That's not all you didn't know
, thought AJ. “What about you, Bob?” he asked, eager to change the subject. “Looking to follow in your old man's footsteps?” Bob's father was an engineer. The reason AJ knew this was because his dad had worked at the same firm.

“If I don't sign on with Uncle Sam first.” Bob leaned forward, elbows resting on his bent knees as he gazed out at the creek, momentarily lost in thought. He turned to AJ. “You hear about old Ricky Danforth?” Ricky was a boy they'd gone to school with. “Lost a leg at Inchon. Damn shame. I'd sure hate for it to have been for nothing. Let's face it, they need men like us over there.”

“We need men like you here, too,” said Elizabeth, her lips pinched in disapproval.

“My dad fought in the big one,” said Bob; “and I'm not going to shirk my duty, either.”

Bob would cut as fine a figure on the battlefield as he had on the football field, AJ knew. Looking into Bob's big, open, friendly face, with its eyes as blue and blameless as a baby's, AJ felt an odd affection well up in him. Affection tempered by a strong dose of envy.

“Even if it means leaving your girl behind?” he found himself saying.

Bob darted Elizabeth a sheepish look, his broad brow rumpled in consternation beneath the lock of golden hair that had fallen over it. “Of course that's a consideration.” He gazed at her with devotion. “But you'd wait for me, wouldn't you, darling?” he said with the air of a man who had no doubts when it came to his bride-to-be.

“Of course I would. That's not the point.” She addressed Bob in an affectionately scolding tone. “The point is that men like you always think—” She broke off to cry, “What in the world is
that
?” She pointed at a large, bulbous green object bobbing and rolling its way downstream.

“Looks like somebody's supper,” said AJ, reminded once more of the stash of watermelons upstream.

“Too late for it now,” remarked Bob amiably.

“Maybe not.” Before either of them could stop her, Elizabeth was kicking off her shoes and wading into the stream, her skirt held high. The renegade watermelon was now snagged between a pair of boulders within fairly easy reach. But she hadn't counted on the strength of the current. She was in only slightly over her knees when it snatched her footing out from under her and sent her plunging, with a cry of distress, into a pocket of deeper water midstream.

AJ watched it all happen in the blink of an eye, and a split second later he was on his feet, shoes off, scrambling to reach her. He went plowing into the creek, mindless of the sharp rocks biting at his bare soles. He hadn't gone more than half-a-dozen feet when he felt the pebbled bottom drop out from under him. He might have been swept downstream along with Elizabeth, who was clinging to a rock a short distance away, if he hadn't managed to grab hold of a low branch jutting from the embankment. He called out to Elizabeth, who looked more startled than panicked. Behind him, he could hear Bob splashing after her, sending up spray that licked at the back of AJ's neck.

But if Bob was larger and more powerful, AJ was quicker and more nimble. He'd had to be in order to stay one step ahead of his uncle. Hanging on to the branch, he maneuvered his way over to a wide, flat boulder. He climbed onto it, then, using other rocks that were either protruding from the water or shallowly submerged, he cut a zigzagging, leapfrogging path toward Elizabeth. Many of the rocks were slick with moss and, should he have slipped and fallen, he'd have split his head open like a … well, like a ripe watermelon … but somehow he managed to stay upright, wobbling precariously here and there but never losing his balance altogether.

“Hang on, darling! I'm coming!” he heard Bob call in that booming voice that, if all else failed, was sure to bring the Shaw Creek volunteer fire brigade to the rescue. AJ darted a glance over his shoulder to find Bob half sloshing, half swimming his way toward Elizabeth.

AJ was the first to reach her. With a strength he hadn't known he possessed, he seized her under the arms and hauled her onto the boulder upon which he stood. For a moment they swayed in unison, locked in each other's arms, their bodies as tightly pressed together as pages in a book as they struggled to hold their balance on their precarious perch. Through her sodden clothing he could feel the soft pliancy of her flesh and the pounding of her heart against his rib cage. A wet strand of her hair clung to his cheek. However chilled she might have been, she felt warm to him. Warm and pulsing and alive after so many years merely dreaming of this moment.

If AJ hadn't been on a rock in the middle of a stream he'd have thrown his head back and roared with laughter at the irony of it: In all his fevered imaginings, he'd never pictured their first embrace quite like this.

The next thing he knew, Bob was upon them and Elizabeth was being scooped up in his brawny arms as though she weighed no more than a half-drowned kitten. “My goodness, what a fuss over nothing!” she cried when all three of them were once more safely on dry land, shaking themselves off and wringing out their clothes. She was putting on a good show, trying to pretend she hadn't been in any real danger, but AJ could see how pale and shaken she was. He also knew, from the look she shot him, that the only reason she was making light of it was to spare Bob, so he wouldn't feel bad about not having been the one to save her from a possible drowning. Another man might have taken credit for it nonetheless, but not Bob. He was too honest.

So it was AJ who set aside his pride and said, “Maybe so, but we'd have both been in for it if it hadn't been for Bob here.” He clapped the bigger man on the shoulder. “Good work, man.”

Bob's furrowed brow smoothed, and he broke into a grin. “You were pretty quick on your feet yourself. I'll tell you what, if we both end up in uniform, I'll want you watching my back over there.”

“You think I'd risk my neck to save your leather hide?” ribbed AJ.

Elizabeth flashed AJ a grateful look, and he knew she wasn't thanking him just for rescuing her. “As for me, I promise not to go chasing after any more stray watermelons,” she said as she shook out her wet hair. “Speaking of which, I guess we know now where they got their name.”

They all laughed, AJ most heartily of all.

“Now, what do you say we head back and get into some dry clothes?” she suggested. “Mama will have a fit if she sees me like this.”

To AJ, she'd never looked more beautiful. Her damp hair curled in inky tangles about her face and neck, and the warm sun had brought color back into her cheeks. Through the wet blouse pasted to her skin he could see the outline of her brassiere and her breasts swelling like ripe fruit over the top. It was an effort to tear his gaze away. To tear his mind, too, from the image of Bob touching those breasts, his large, square hands laying claim to her on their wedding night.

“Sounds like a fine idea,” said Bob, slipping an arm around her waist as they started back up the path.

“In fact, I want you both to be my guests at the barbecue tonight. It's the least I can do after you saved me from practically drowning.” She tossed a glance over her shoulder to make sure AJ knew he was included in the invitation.

But he'd already slipped away.

CHAPTER THREE

“So that story she used to tell us about Dad being the one to rescue her was all a lie?” Emily frowned down at the diary, from which Sarah had been reading aloud, as if it had offended her.

The two sisters were snuggling on the sofa by the fire they'd built, sipping what was left of the chardonnay from jelly jars they'd unearthed from one of the cartons. Everything else was packed and ready for the moving van that was scheduled to arrive first thing Monday morning.

“I wouldn't call it a lie, exactly,” Sarah said, lowering the diary to her lap. “She just left out certain parts. She wanted Dad to be the hero.” She turned toward Emily. “Was that so wrong of her? So what if it didn't happen exactly the way she chose to remember it?”

Emily smiled a little, no doubt thinking the same thing Sarah was: that their dad had been a hero regardless. “Remember that time he stood up in front of the town council and told them it was a stupid waste of money to build a community bomb shelter? That if the Russians dropped the bomb on us, the radiation would kill us even if the blast didn't?”