by Linda Ellen
As he drove the narrow tree lined logging road, for the first time totally alone since he’d been struck dumb with the devastating news, he allowed himself to face the truth of the matter.
She was married to another man.
Tears filled his eyes and spilled unhindered down his cheeks. During his life, he had lost nearly every person he loved, and now he had lost the one who had meant the most to him. His Mary Louise. He would never know what it would be like to join with her, to make love to her, have a family together, and build a life together.
He wondered if he would ever know a happy moment again…
‡
CHAPTER 25
Life in the Trenches
February 1939…
A soothing song emanated from the small Zenith radio sitting on the bureau next to the door. Ironically, it was Benny Goodman’s version of Once in A While, with Martha Tilton’s smooth soprano voice crooning the lyrics.
Louise had been running an iron over the same section of shirtsleeve for the past five minutes. The wrinkles were long since gone, but she wasn’t paying attention.
Staring unseeing out the window of the one room they were renting, she sang along as she went through the motions of ironing one of his shirts – the man she was married to, yet for whom she felt no more than slight affection…or more truthfully, something more akin to dislike – while wondering if Vic ever thought about her, like in the familiar lyrics of the song. Memories floated through of being up on stage singing that tune, as the beloved twinkling eyes of the man she adored watched her, his head nodding approvingly. The image of the mile-wide smile that had lit up his face in pride sent waves of both pleasure and pain through her heart.
That morning she had donned the lavender flowered dress she had worn on two dates with Vic, on the strength of a vague promise that T.J. had made to her the week before. Now as her daydreams deepened and sweetened, her hand unconsciously released its grip on the iron and reached up to touch the amethyst necklace lying nestled in the V-neck of the garment.
No, she wasn’t really there in the confines of their room, passing another boring day by trying to keep busy; she was where her mind usually strayed – The tunnel of love with Vic at Fontaine Ferry… Or with the gang riding in that silly old hearse… Or strolling along Fourth Street hand in hand with Vic… Or cuddling with Vic in the corner booth of the malt shop… Or on the Idlewild, swaying to the music, in Vic’s arms…
With the final bars of the song playing, Louise could almost hear that masculine timbre in his voice, murmuring sweet nothings in her ear as they swayed together to the music. Closing her eyes, she could see him, as plain as if he were right there with her…his dark wavy hair fluffing in the evening breeze…his warm brown eyes twinkling down at her with intense admiration as she pulled back to gaze up at him…and his gorgeous smile, with those perfect white teeth… She could almost smell the heady scents of that night, a delightful combination of his aftershave and the wild musky essence from the river. Louise imagined she could feel the warmth of his hand as it gently pressed against her back, urging her to cuddle closer, and then moving in slow caressing circles. Her eyes drifted closed and she could see his face as it came closer and he began to lean down for a kiss…
Suddenly, she was startled from her musings as she heard the back door of the house open. Hastily glancing over at the clock on the bureau, she knew it was her husband coming home from his job as a mechanic. Shaking her head, she struggled to bring herself fully back to the present. Worried, she bit her lip; I hope he’s in a good mood…and that he remembered…
Seconds later, the door to their room opened and he strolled in, glancing over at her before shutting it behind him. Tossing his cap on the dresser and reaching up to unzip his uniform jacket, he looked over at the tiny table and two chairs in the corner, where he could plainly see his supper had not yet been prepared.
This wasn’t the first time, and T.J. sighed with aggravation. Over the months since they had married, his young wife had seemed to slip further and further into her own little world – and he had a grudging idea who it was that ‘occupied’ that world with her.
T.J. paused and gazed at her. Once again, he mused at how she seemed so different from the girl he had seen from afar aboard the steamboat, and then again at the K.C. dance. He had fallen under her spell and was captivated by her beauty and her singing voice. It was during their second dance that he had determined he would pursue and conquer. He’d decided she would be his, no ifs, ands, or buts. The reality of the other man, whom he thought of as, ‘That jerk named Vic something or other’, made him grit his teeth each time his image popped into his mind. Especially the image of how he and Louise had looked at one another. But – Vic was gone and he was here – and he had married the girl. She belonged to him. Period. She was now his possession. To his way of thinking, the other dumb cluck was just, as they say, **it out of luck. He shouldn’t have left town – as that had left the field wide open.
However, Louise’s lack of enthusiasm was a fly in the ointment and stung his manly pride. He knew she pined after that Vic character, and it made him want to chew nails, or punch something. It also made him angry and frustrated that she wasn’t…responsive…to his overtures. Before her, he had prided himself on being a ‘lady’s man’, and figured she should realize how lucky she was that T.J. Blankenbaker, the Louisville Stud, had picked her out of all the ‘fillies’.
Tired, frustrated, and hungry, T.J. therefore was in no mood to be polite.
“Haven’t you fixed supper yet?” he groused. Then looking around at their room, which didn’t look much different than it had that morning, neither messy nor spotless, he added, “What do you do all day, anyway?”
Disappointed and hurt, Louise looked away from his piercing gaze. Unplugging the iron with a careless yank on the cord, she laid the well-pressed shirt on the bed and snapped, “Sorry, I guess I lost track of time. Supper’ll be ready in a few minutes.”
He watched her edge past him, the thought not even occurring to either of them that they might give one another a kiss in greeting after being apart all day. The simmering undercurrent that persisted between them was like an ever-present housemate hovering over their shoulders.
He forgot. I knew he’d forget! Louise silently fumed as she trudged into the kitchen.
Dejected and angry, she retrieved some leftover ham from the icebox and their loaf of bread from the cupboard. She was glad that the kitchen was empty, and that the couple they were renting from, Shelby and Anna Richardson, weren’t around. Anna liked to stick her nose in everyone else’s business, and Louise didn’t relish her knowing more than she had to about her and T.J.’s testy relationship.
Louise stood at the counter, her hands busy, her mind even more so. I guess this is what my life’ll be like from now on. But…I guess it’s no more than I deserve. Probably gonna be punished forever…I wish I could just go back…if I could go back and redo everything, I’d change so many things, I’d tell Vic right away how old I was…I’d…
T.J. emerged from the bedroom then, still wearing his grimy uniform, and was headed toward the bathroom when he glanced over at Louise as she arranged the fixings for sandwiches. His eyes flicked down over her dress and he belatedly noticed she was wearing a bit of makeup and had styled her hair. Totally oblivious, he momentarily wondered why, since she usually didn’t bother to fix herself up for him. Then he realized what she was doing.
“Sandwiches again? That’s what we had last night,” he complained. “I was hoping for a hot meal!” Swearing, he added, “Had to work on a rush job outside in the cold all day, since all the stupid bays were full.”
“Sorry,” Louise muttered with a petulant shrug. Then looking over at him, she decided to take the plunge and answered softly, “I thought you were going to take me out to eat. You know…for my birthday… We talked about it last week, remember?”
Shifting the clothing and bathing items in his hands, he sighed with renewe
d aggravation as he recalled promising to take her out for her birthday. But, with the way she’d been acting toward him lately, he wasn’t feeling too generous. “I gave you a card this morning,” he reminded her defensively. “Besides, I don’t have money for eating out tonight. Maybe some other time.”
“Like for Valentines?” Louise persisted, “We could go dancing…they’re having another dance at the K.C…”
“Maybe. We’ll see.” He responded, being purposely vague. Then he ran a hand back through his hair and mumbled, “Hurry up with that food, will ya? I’m starving. I’m gonna go take a bath,” he added.
Sharp blue eyes met a resentful hazel gaze with an unspoken message. She clamped her mouth shut and swallowed, but refused to respond as he went on into the washroom and shut the door with a definitive click.
Closing her eyes for a moment, Louise pressed her lips tightly together, knowing all too well what that look meant. Her husband would demand that she allow him his rights later when they went to bed. Since she had turned him down so many times with the complaint that he was too dirty and smelly from working in the auto repair shop all day, he had begun bathing more regularly so she couldn’t use that excuse.
The truth was Louise could barely tolerate her husband’s use of her body. When they had first married – after their wedding night, that is – T.J. had used his practiced ‘moves’ on her, expecting her to swoon in his arms; but they had had little effect. As a result, he had long since given up trying to be romantic, and in Louise’s opinion, she wouldn’t call what they did together ‘making love.’ It was more like a master using his slave. And that’s what she felt like – a slave. She knew, however, that to T.J.’s way of thinking, her constant spurning stung his pride and she didn’t deserve to be ‘romanced’. It had become a Mexican standoff, and neither had any intentions of changing their behavior, nor for that matter trying to make amends.
She shook her head with a disgusted sigh as thoughts roiled in her brain. So far, being married was nothing like she had imagined it would be. One of the main reasons she had agreed to the marriage was because she had been sick and tired of the day-to-day struggle of living in poverty. Growing up, there had never been any money for anything – at least, not since the Depression had taken root after the crash of ‘29. She could barely remember the years before that, when her father had a good paying job and they had lived in a nice house. T.J. had a job and a car, and he had practically spoiled her when they were ‘courting’, taking her to the movies, and out to eat. So she had expected things would be better with him…but all he ever seemed to tell her was that he had no money for whatever she was requesting.
The kicker was, she didn’t even know how much money he made. Every time she asked, he’d tell her not to worry about it, that he was taking care of it, and of her. All she had to do were her womanly duties, like cooking and cleaning – and keeping him satisfied. She shouldn’t ‘worry her pretty little head about it’.
However, the thing that had tipped the scales in her mind was what he had begun to do a few months after their marriage. One night after she had grudgingly allowed him conjugal rights, he had ‘jokingly’ told her that she was behind on holding up her end of the bargain, because she wasn’t yet in the ‘family way’. Then he had uttered the phrase that made her grit her teeth every time he said it – and he had repeated it often since then, probably because he saw that it got under her skin. That it was his ‘job’ to ‘keep her barefoot and pregnant’, and she had better get with it, as she was making him look bad. She knew it was a saying he had picked up from his father, Mr. Blankenbaker, who Louise thought of as a ‘lecher’ and a ‘low down womanizer’, and who had even indicated to Louise on several occasions that he found her quite ‘fetching’. The thought made her want to retch.
Lately the Blankenbaker family had been suggesting that she go to see a doctor and find out if she was ‘normal’.
However, getting pregnant and having a child with T.J. was the last thing Louise wanted to do, and she had managed to put off seeing a doctor about it. Thoughts of the distant future were something she avoided at all costs.
She fretted silently, using a little more force than necessary as she smeared mustard on the bread for his sandwich. Normal. Heck yeah, I’m normal. But I’m a girl in love with one man and married to another…
Knowing it did no good to dwell on that fact, as it would only end with her crying and T.J. getting angrily frustrated, which would turn into belligerence, she sighed dramatically as she finished making his supper. She, however, had lost her appetite.
Realizing he wasn’t planning on doing anything to celebrate her birthday, she swiped at an errant bit of moisture attempting to leak out of the corner of one eye. Despite the fact that it was her birthday, she didn’t hold out much hope that he would let her go to see her family that night, because he was always so ‘tired’ when he came home from work. The fact was he had virtually cut her off from seeing any of her old friends since their marriage – as their ‘home’ was too far away for her to walk. Therefore, she felt isolated and alone most of the time.
With a pout, she resigned herself to another night of listening to programs on the radio…until the inevitable moment of ‘reckoning’ when it was time for bed.
Pouring her husband a glass of soda, she silently fumed. What fun my sixteenth birthday has turned out to be.
*
The next morning, T.J. obligingly dropped Louise off at her mother’s on his way to work. After much badgering and begging on her part, he had agreed to allow her to spend the day there. Louise figured he felt guilty about doing practically nothing for her birthday the night before.
He’d only paused the car long enough for her to exit and shut the door completely, before giving it gas and moving on down the street. He hadn’t even said goodbye.
Feeling like a petulant little girl, Louise stuck her tongue out at the retreating back end of the Phaeton as it turned the next corner. She knew he was angry – she had made excuses again the night before, and had somehow managed to escape her ‘duty’. The result had been a string of heated, angry remarks exchanged in the darkness of their room, before they had rolled to the farthest sides of their bed and spent a fitful night trying to get to sleep. She grudgingly supposed she should be grateful that he never used force to get what he wanted, but at that moment, she wasn’t in the mood to be benevolent.
A mean streak rose up as she fumed silently, Let him be mad. I don’t care!
Wrapping her coat closer around herself against the cold February breeze, she climbed the steps to her previous home and hurried down the hall. That time she knocked on the door and waited for her mother’s voice to call, “Come in,” before entering to find Lilly at the sink washing dishes.
“Hi Mama,” Louise greeted, glancing around the room. “Oh shoot, I was hoping Billy and Sonny would still be here…”
Lilly turned and smiled lovingly at her daughter. “I’m sorry honey, you just missed them.”
Louise nodded and made her way over, gliding gladly into her mother’s open arms. For a moment, it felt so good to pretend to be a little girl again, her problems no worse than a skinned knee or one of her many sore throats.
After a few moments, Lilly loosened her grip and stepped back, gazing into her daughter’s eyes. “How are you?” she asked softly.
Louise stifled the pout that wanted to take over her mouth and instead turned to shrug off her coat and lay it on the back of a kitchen chair. “I’m okay.”
“He treating you good?” Lilly persisted, seeing the unhappiness lurking in Louise’s expressive hazel eyes.
Louise shrugged again, thinking if she began complaining to her mother, the floodgates would burst open and she might never stop. Plus, she knew her mother felt responsible and right then she didn’t have the stomach for causing further upset. “He…he treats me okay. He don’t hit me or anything,” she admitted.
Lilly’s brow furrowed as she interjected, “And he’d
better not!”
Louise smiled softly at that, picturing her short, stout little mama chasing T.J. around the kitchen with a rolling pin, shouting, ‘You lay a hand on my daughter again, and I’ll crack your skull!’
“No, he’s just…stingy…”
Lilly searched Louise’s eyes again, nodding sagely. “He forget your birthday?”
“He gave me a card,” Louise admitted with a roll of her eyes.
“Mmm hmm,” Lilly nodded. Once again, she berated herself for her part in her daughter’s unhappiness. Reflecting on the fact that none of Mr. Blankenbaker’s promises had proven true, she mumbled, “I’m not surprised. Seems all those Blankenbakers do is promise and lie.”
Lilly turned back to the sink with a disgusted huff as Louise leaned against the side of big old fashioned sink and built in drainboard. “What’d they lie about now?”
“Oh, all that business about it being no problem to help your father to secure a job in that factory where Mr. Blankenbaker works. So far, that hasn’t happened – and Willis has been back from Bowling Green for over three months. Thank goodness for odd jobs,” she added with a tired sigh.
“I miss Daddy,” Louise mused, glancing around as she realized he wasn’t in the apartment. “Where is he?” she wondered aloud as she automatically reached for a dishtowel and began drying the freshly washed dishes.
“He went early down to Harrison’s,” Lilly explained over her shoulder, referring to a company for whom Willis had worked ten years’ previous. “Somebody told him yesterday they might be hiring.”
“I hope so…” Louise murmured, glancing over at Willis’s chair. “Daddy’s a good worker. They ought to take him back.”
For a few moments, the girl thought back on the last few times she’d seen her father. All of the ill feelings he had harbored after the debacle regarding Vic had been smoothed over, and he had gone back to his gentle, loving self. The only drawback was that T.J. seemed to always have some excuse why he couldn’t bring her over to her parents’ place – although they went to his parents’ home all the time. As a result, she had very few chances to be with her daddy. One time had been when he had returned from Bowling Green shortly after her marriage. He had secured from his son the address where she was living, and came to see her, to make sure she was truly all right. During that visit he had met T.J. and informed him, in no uncertain terms, that he had better not cause Louise any pain, or he would truly regret it. Smiling fondly at the memory, Louise knew the moment was one she would remember and cherish for the rest of her life. It also gave her a chuckle to remember T.J.’s reaction, quite cowed and respectful in her father’s presence.
