by Ava Miles
“That’s to be expected,” he said, pressing her face back against his chest. “I wish he were here. Sometimes when I’m sitting in the kitchen or walking up to the porch, my mind conjures up an image of him here—like he was before the war. I see you in him too, Anna. When you move a certain way…it’s like you have some of the same mannerisms. Damn, but I miss him.”
Then he pressed his head into her shoulder for a long while, and she held him, hoping Martin could see them from heaven and know they both had loved him well in their own way.
“We’ve gotten way off point,” Noah said, clearing his throat and sitting up. “But I like you on my lap.”
She rather liked it too, she decided, although it was a bit indecent—and right here on the front porch too. Of course, the brick wall facing the street gave them some privacy, but still.
“I should probably…” She edged off his lap and returned to her chair.
In the silence, she heard the chirp of a lone cricket. A soft breeze touched her hair, and it felt good against the heat of her neck. She got so warm when she cried. It was like all the tears inside her had to boil so they could overflow.
“We should probably talk about the Catholic thing,” she said softly. “Billie’s right, to some degree, although I’m ashamed to admit it.”
She found she was tapping her feet all nervous-like suddenly, not wanting to bring up her mother’s comments. It would only inflame his ongoing concerns on that score.
“I know you have your own beliefs, and I respect that. You can’t see yourself converting, can you?”
He shook his head. “No. Not even for you or any kids we have.”
She’d thought about it off and on all evening. Had decided she could make peace with it. “Honestly, it kinda galls me to say this, but I’m going to. You’d think being a war hero would be more important than being Catholic around here. So far everyone has embraced you.”
And they hadn’t done that with Eileen’s beau, she recalled. Surely that was a good sign. Noah continued to study the floor, lost in thought.
“I choose to believe that will continue,” she told him.
She could almost hear her mother telling her she had rose-colored glasses on. Maybe so, but she was sick and tired of people hating each other for no good reason. Weren’t they all just Americans? Maybe the war had finally helped everyone realize that. God, she hoped so.
“I can face what people think of me,” Noah said. “I’ve been called an orphan and a bastard and much worse. The real question is: can you face it?”
“I’ll rip anyone in two with both my hands if they so much as say a bad word about you,” she said, making a fist like her dad had taught her. “I mean it, Noah. I’ll punch someone in the kisser if they mess with someone I love. I’m a tough Irish girl from South Side, after all. We have a reputation to uphold.” Of course, she’d probably get fired from her job at the school. Best not mention that.
“There she is,” he said. “My tiger. I’m totally in love with her.”
“But I have to ask about children,” she forced herself to say. “Noah, I…this is hard for me to say, but I want our kids to be raised Catholic. Could you see your way toward agreeing to that?”
He gave a deep sigh. “I didn’t realize how big a deal that was until Billie mentioned it. Honestly, Anna, this is a tough one. I want my kids—our kids—to have minds of their own and not simply swallow what they’re told in some church.”
She could feel a knee-jerk reaction coming a mile away, so she took a moment to breathe before she spoke. “Do I look like I swallow everything? Does Father?”
“I’m sorry,” he said. “Point taken. Anna, you need to understand…the people in the orphanage were supposedly religious, and they treated us like shit. Excuse my French, but it’s true. They called us unclean and bad seeds. Some of them insisted that scrubbing us really hard with lye soap was the only way to make us clean and godly. I… Stuff like that makes me want to throw something.”
Like he couldn’t probably when he was a boy under the control of a system. “I can’t understand how anyone could treat kids that way, but I can promise you that no one would do that to our kids.”
“You can’t make a promise like that,” he said. “No one can protect anyone that completely. Surely there are teachers even in your school whose methods you disagree with.”
She thought about it. “Sometimes, but Father runs a pretty tight ship. It helps that he hires really good people to teach. He’s partial to teachers, you know, because of his father.”
“Yes, he told me,” he said. “I’ll think about it. That’s all I can promise now.”
“Thank you,” she said. “I can also…take you to Mass with me or have you sit in on another class when school’s back in session so you can see for yourself if you want.”
He nodded. “Thank you. I…like gathering my own information.”
She knew that. Hadn’t she seen him looking at book after book to research professions? “There’s something else I need to ask. Noah, why didn’t you tell me about your medals? I would have been so happy for you.”
His whole body seemed to close in like one of the flowers once darkness fell. “I know it’s what the military does, but… Anna, I didn’t want to be decorated for doing my duty. That’s why they call it a duty. I…don’t want people to think I’m some hero. I’m not.”
She thought it was more than that, and given tonight’s openness, she decided to press. “You don’t want to be decorated for killing anyone, do you?”
The silence stretched, so much so that she had to fight the urge to fidget. Part of her wanted to apologize to him and change the topic, but she couldn’t make herself do it. It would be best for him, for them, for him to speak.
“It doesn’t feel right,” he uttered in a harsh tone. “So many of the people I’ve talked to think the killing we did was justified, but it still leaves me with a bad taste in my mouth. I’m not proud of what I’ve done. That’s another thing I’m working out. Niall and I have had some good discussions on it.”
God bless Father Shaughnessy, she thought.
“There’s so much about the war you don’t want me to know,” she said softly, and she thought about Billie’s offer to help Noah find a job with his old associates. It seemed like it was one thing too much to bring up at the moment. Surely he wouldn’t consider it if it was anything dangerous or unlawful.
“You should thank God for that,” he ground out. “I’m sorry. That was curt. But Anna… You need to trust me here. You’re a good woman who believes in the goodness of people. I don’t ever want that to change. That’s part of the reason your letters meant so much to me. You were a light in the darkness. Oh, that sounds so corny,” he said, raking a hand through his already mussed up hair. “Forget I said it.”
This time she slid onto his lap for a different reason. Taking his face in her hands, she said, “Noah Weatherby, you were a light in my darkness too. I don’t ever want that to change.”
“So are we two lighthouses now?” he asked, his tone suggesting a need to lighten the moment.
“Or two loons,” she said, cuddling into him. “They mate for life and call out to each other at night, which I’ve read is uncommon in bird species.”
He gave a grunt, which could have been mistaken for amusement. “You sound like a teacher. I love that part of you as much as I do the fist-curling tiger.”
The warmth of his body and the ease with which he held her made her heart overflow with all the love she had for him. The worry she’d felt earlier was drowned by it.
“And I love you,” she whispered, resting her hand on the arm he had around her waist.
“So we’re okay for the moment?” he asked.
She thought about it. They also hadn’t talked about his decision to go fight in the Pacific if the war wasn’t over by the end of the month. She couldn’t bring herself to mention it. There was nothing she could do about it. If Noah had to join their boys over ther
e, she would respect his decision. After all, he was that kind of man, and it was one more reason she loved him.
“Yes, we are A-okay,” she whispered.
As he lowered his mouth to kiss her, she felt one more shadow lurking in the back of her mind.
Her mother.
Chapter 15
“Mrs. Hughes, you’re a marvel,” Noah said as she served him a fried egg, a few bacon strips, and a couple of slices of fresh bread in the dining room.
“It’s nice to see your appetite improving,” she commented, pushing some of her apple butter closer to him.
“And our boy is sleeping better too,” Father said.
His sleep was improving. Sure, he still woke up from bad dreams a couple of times a night, but he’d grown more adept at breathing out all of what he called the electricity afterward. His room at the rectory was becoming more familiar, which surely factored into it. For the last few years with the war, he’d slept in a new place practically every night, and most of the spots had not been comfortable.
“Being in love does that to a person,” Mrs. Hughes said, smiling at him.
“I’m a lucky man,” he said.
So lucky he could even manage a smile when he bumped into her mother. She still hadn’t really spoken to him, and while Anna was trying to be positive about it, he wasn’t so sure. Mrs. Sims was waiting for something. And in his gut, he wondered if she was hoping he’d be shipped off to the Pacific.
Today marked the first of August, and the war was still underway. His self-imposed timetable with Anna was over three weeks off, and he was well aware of it. He was trying to keep busy as a distraction.
“Any more ideas about what you’ll do once the war is over?” Mrs. Hughes asked. “My brother owns a car shop. I’m sure he’d be happy to hire you as a mechanic. Would teach you anything you need to know. I told him you were a good boy.”
She wasn’t the first person in the neighborhood to offer such assistance—Dougherty repeated his job offer whenever he saw him—and such unselfish generosity always overwhelmed him. “Thank you, Mrs. Hughes. That’s very kind of you. I’m still thinking about things.”
“He hits the books pretty hard when we’re cosseted in the library, let me tell you,” Niall said with a conspiratorial glance. “Whatever it turns out to be, it’s going to be marvelous.”
“I hope so,” Noah said. Hope. It wasn’t something he’d had in a long while, but it burned bright inside him whenever he was with Anna, whenever he researched a new career. If it weren’t for the war, he’d feel like his whole life was ahead of him.
“What are you up to today, Noah?”
“My friend, Billie, is taking me uptown,” he said. “He wants me to meet with some guys he worked with before the war.”
Billie had finally talked him into it a couple of days ago. He’d popped by the rectory, and they’d chatted for a couple of hours. Niall hadn’t minded, saying he could invite anyone over. The contrast to Anna’s mother hadn’t failed to register.
“What did Billie used to do before the war?” Mrs. Hughes asked, nodding to Father Wilson as he came in from morning Mass. “Good morning, Father. I’ll make you a plate and bring it up to you.”
The younger priest inclined his head. “Good morning, everybody.”
Noah and Niall wished him the same, then watched as he walked up the stairs. Niall tried to hide his frown, but it was a losing battle. His ongoing angst over the quiet young priest was escalating.
“Maybe he just doesn’t make friends easily,” Noah said. He understood not wanting to talk to people.
Father sighed. “He may do better with the bees.”
“Father!” Mrs. Hughes exclaimed.
Noah pressed his napkin over his mouth to hide his amusement.
“I apologize, Mrs. Hughes,” Niall said, picking up a bacon strip and giving it a good chomp.
“Noah, your friend,” Mrs. Hughes said, bustling around the table, adding food to the plate she was fixing for Father Wilson. “What was his profession?”
“He said he works in transportation.” He didn’t know the details, but Billie had told him that much.
Mrs. Hughes looked at Niall, and then away. “I’ll just run this up to Father and then start cleaning up the kitchen. Take your time finishing your breakfast.”
When she was out of earshot, Noah set his elbows on the table. “Why do I sense some unease about the transportation sector in Chicago?”
Niall laughed, wiping his mouth. “Oh, we’ve all probably seen too many gangster movies. The bad guys always say they’re in transportation. I’m sure Billie has better sense.”
And Noah was trying to be a pal, much like Billie was likely. He’d thought it made sense to consider working with a guy he served with. They knew each other, after all. Had fought in the trenches together. Billie knew Chicago, and Noah didn’t. He wasn’t going to rely on Anna for everything. He wasn’t that kind of man.
But after visiting some of the bars his friend used to frequent downtown, Noah wasn’t so sure they had the same professional interests or life philosophy. He hadn’t missed the sawed-off shotgun behind the bar. Sure, the bar where he’d worked in D.C. had a gun as well, but only a pistol. A gun like that meant serious business. He’d had enough of guns in the war and would be happy to never see another one ever again.
“Billie is…different here, not that we’ve spent that much time together,” Noah said. In truth, he wanted to spend every day with Anna, and Billie had teased him about it.
“When you’re fighting with a guy,” he continued, “you don’t talk much about the past and the like, I guess.”
“You did with Martin,” Niall said, drinking his coffee.
“I met Martin in basic training. Totally different. We had more time then.” They hadn’t known what war was yet. God, they hadn’t had a clue.
“I forgot about that,” Niall said. “Being on the front, things move a lot faster.”
It was uncanny how much Niall seemed to understand about war. Noah imagined he’d spoken to many soldiers in his time as a priest.
“I need to go,” Noah said, standing up. “You taking care of your bees today?”
Niall leaned back. “You should try it sometime. They’re oddly calming, and there’s a logic to nature that awes me.”
“I imagine you get calm or else you get stung,” Noah said as he left the table.
“You’re turning into a regular philosopher, Noah,” Niall said. “Have a great day.”
Noah laughed. A regular philosopher. Now that would be a gig he could get into. Thinking about life. Writing about it. And then passing what he learned on to other men. His mind conjured up a painting of a group of young men clustered around Aristotle and Plato. He’d seen that in a book called The School of Athens.
When he reached the porch of the rectory, he felt the urge to stop and stretch. His lower back cracked, and he did some side twists to work out the kinks. Man, he missed some of the physical exertion of being in the Army. Niall had suggested he take up boxing since there was a club not far from Dougherty’s Pub. But he didn’t want to smash any more guys’ faces in. No, he could do some push-ups and sit-ups in his room when he felt the urge and let that be enough.
Some cheering attracted his attention, and he turned his head to see Anna running toward the playground, Robbie Dougherty on her heels. He took off in their direction and noticed the fight right away. Two boys were rolling on the ground, surrounded by a cluster of boys cheering over them. It was like the inverse of the image he’d just thought about.
“Willie Buckley! Brendan Dougherty! You stop this right now.” She pushed into the circle of boys, fearless, and leaned down to grab the boys.
She was going to get hurt, he thought, increasing his speed. While the boys who’d been watching had all gone silent, the two in the middle were still punching each other. He put on another burst of speed, reaching them just in time to step in front of Anna.
“Hey! That’s enoug
h!” He grabbed both of the boys and hauled them up by their arms.
Willie’s face was dirty and it looked like he’d been crying. He hit Brendan in the gut before Noah could wrangle them farther apart.
“Boys!” Anna cried.
“Willie Buckley, you’d better stop this right now,” Noah said. “Settle down!”
The boy was straining in his hold as he stared at Brendan. “It’s not fair.”
“Willie, what’s gotten into you?” Anna asked.
“His dad is back, and my brother isn’t,” Willie said. “He was bragging about it.”
Brendan clenched his fists. “I was not!”
“He was not!” his younger brother yelled from behind Anna.
“You shouldn’t have gotten the teacher,” Brendan yelled back.
“Yes, he should have,” Anna said. “You shouldn’t be fighting like this. As for the rest of you boys… Go on home now or I’ll talk to your mothers. It’s not nice to cheer people on when they’re fighting. Fighting is wrong. Isn’t it?”
Everyone muttered, “Yes, Miss Sims.”
“Now off with you,” she said, waving her hands as they all started to run off. “Except for Willie and Brendan here.”
Noah kept hold of Willie even though the boy was now hanging his head in defeat.
“Over to the bench, you two,” Anna ordered, his beautiful tiger radiating with anger.
Man, she looked beautiful. In a different situation, he’d have told her so, but she was on a mission, and he was going to sit back and watch.
They hopped up onto the bench, sitting on opposite ends. Noah stood behind them, and Anna stood in front.
“Everything all right out there?” Niall called from a top window in the rectory.
“Anna’s got it in hand,” Noah yelled back.
She finally spared him a glance, and he could feel the singe of her fire. Oh, these boys were about to get a good talking to.
Sure enough, she was in full teacher mode when she said, “Willie, I want you to tell me what happened.”
“But Miss Sims, he hit me first!” Brendan said.
“That’s why he’s going first.” She crossed her arms. “I’m waiting.”
