Once In A While (The Cherished Memories Book 1)

by Linda Ellen

  Vic’s lips turned up in a crooked half smile and he chuckled softly. “Okay, you bum. One more and that’s it. Rack ‘em up,” he griped, though the twinkle in his eyes put the lie to his tone.

  Floyd snickered and lazily went around the table retrieving the brightly colored balls and sending them down to one end as Vic reached underneath for the triangle.

  “You wanna break?” Vic asked, handing Floyd his cue.

  “Naw man, it’s yours.”

  Vic nodded and leaned to set the cue ball, took aim, and sent the stick forward with just the right amount of punch to execute a perfect scattering of the balls for the opening of their game.

  The crew in the corner cheered in response to the announcer’s description of a particularly effective pummel and Floyd grinned his gleaming white smile as he leaned back against the side of the table, resuming their earlier conversation. Angling his head toward the corner, he quipped, “Now, iffen’ it was Louis and dat German fella on that radio ova dere, that’d be different.”

  “Got that right,” Vic agreed under his breath, thinking that the promised rematch of Joe Louis and Max Schmeling, scheduled for the following June, was something to look forward to.

  Floyd shook his head as he remembered the last time he had caught a Joe Louis fight. “Man, that Joe, he can sho’ land a punch,” he mused, laying his cue against his shoulder and bringing his hands up in the traditional fight stance, pretending to ‘jab’ at an opponent.

  “Yep, they don’t call ‘im the Brown Bomber for nothin’,” Vic agreed as he finished chalking up the tip of his own cue and laying the well used one inch square of blue chalk to the side.

  For the next few minutes, they traded shots, with Vic missing more than connecting. He was working hard to concentrate on the game over the distractions across the room. Finally, Floyd ended up winning by one point, resulting in a loud groan from Vic and a joyous whoop from Floyd.

  Laughing, Vic lay his cue down on the table and reached good-naturedly for his wallet. “Okay, you win. I’m out a five spot,” he grumbled, opening the billfold and taking out the money he had received from the paymaster only hours before. “Ya win some, ya lose some,” he chuckled. “Good game, man.”

  As he moved to close the wallet and return it to his pocket, somehow it flipped out of his hand and landed on the floor, spilling its contents in the process. Both young men reflexively squatted down to retrieve it, with Floyd mumbling, “Here, I hep’ yah…”

  Just then, as Vic reached to turn the worn leather item over, both men saw the two pictures that had dislodged from the interior. Vic sucked in a breath, as the sight brought memories back in full force like the blow of a sledgehammer. This time, he resented the surge of emotion he still felt whenever he came face to face with a specific reminder of her. Of course…it didn’t occur to him to take the pictures out and throw them away…

  Floyd flashed a glance at his friend’s face and caught the pained expression before Vic could successfully smother it. The young black man reached for the photos and carefully picked them up, perusing the one of Louise alone, which he had seen many times, and then switching his gaze to the second image.

  He remembered back to when Vic had returned from taking his friend Alec to the bus. Never had Floyd seen anyone so broken up, and it had taken him quite a while to get Vic to confide even a few of the details to him. Floyd had been truly saddened for his friend, and had made it his personal mission to help Vic recover from the unexpected, and to his way of thinking undeserved, heartache. Although he knew his friend was still nursing his wounds, over the months he had been relieved to see Vic regain much of his equilibrium and begin to move on with his life.

  Still, gazing at the photo of Vic and the girl locked in a passionate kiss, Floyd knew that whenever his friend was reminded of what he had lost, it would always pack a ‘Joe Louis’ punch.

  “Hee’ yah go, Chief,” Floyd mumbled, watching his friend take the pictures, gaze at them for a few seconds, and then with a sigh stow them away again in their customary hiding place. “Man, that was lousy,” Floyd added quietly, meaning that they had been enjoying themselves until the mishap with the pictures.

  “Ahh, forget it,” Vic murmured with an attempt at a smile. “Been feelin’ it anyway…” he paused, shrugging a bit sheepishly. “Today’s her birthday.” Pressing his lips together for a minute, he added, “I just hope he…” but he couldn’t complete the thought that he hoped the guy who had married her was treating her well. He wondered if she was thinking about him then. Somehow, he felt as if she was…and had been all day. Puzzled, he wondered at the significance of that.

  After a few moments, Floyd leaned to give Vic a friendly clap on the back. “Well, c’mon, Chief. What ‘say we go shoot some hoops, huh?”

  Vic gazed at his pal for a moment, truly thankful for their friendship. As they stood to their feet, he mumbled, “Might as well. Can’t do much else with a foot ‘a snow on the ground outside.” After shoving the wallet back into his pocket, with a playful grin, he gave his friend a gentle punch on the shoulder. “Five dollars, best two outta three.”

  “You on, man,” Floyd laughed as they made their way past their crewmates, who were whooping and cussing over the match on the radio.

  *

  Following mail call that afternoon, Vic retreated to the barracks. Thankful for the stone fireplace at one end of the large, open-raftered room, he beefed up the fire good and hot before lying down on his bunk to read his mail. Another letter had come from Miss Irene, one from his sister-in-law Goldie, and one from Alec. Irene’s letters always made him feel better, so he opened hers first.

  Dear Vic,

  I hope this letter finds you well, and that the injury to your hand is totally healed. I prayed that it wouldn’t cause you trouble and would heal quickly.

  Things here are fine. The weather has been much more accommodating than last January, praise God. We certainly don’t need a repeat of that, do we? Doc is fine, and said to say hello and how are you. He said to tell you he has heard many a fine report from his friend, your commander, and he couldn’t be more proud.

  Vic, I did as you requested in your last letter. I went by the Hoskins’ apartment and had a nice visit with Louise’s mother and father. They said to tell you they aren’t angry with you, and that they wish you much success and happiness. I tried to get them to tell me Louise’s address, but they indicated they didn’t want to, and I had to respect their wishes. They assured me she is well.

  Vic, I know this was a bitter pill to swallow, and I can’t speak to the reason such a thing happened. But, sometimes people make bad choices, uninformed choices, or they do things on the spur of the moment that they later regret. I can only urge you to seek out happiness in your life and try not to dwell on the negative. Know that people love you and care very much about your future.

  And…one never knows what the future holds. It may surprise you. Work hard and behave yourself, and God will reward you for your diligence…

  Reward. Vic looked away from the words written on the page, lost in thought about what that might mean. The only ‘reward’ Vic would want from God would be to somehow have Louise as his wife. But that was impossible now…wasn’t it? Unless, of course, her ‘husband’ was out of the way… The thought of the usurper was enough to make Vic’s blood begin to boil, but he held back from actually wishing the man dead.

  And another fact to ponder was… How would he feel if he saw Louise again…knowing she had been with another man? Vic shook his head, as those thoughts and images made him grit his teeth with a grimace.

  Returning his gaze to the letter, he finished reading the last few lines Irene had written telling him about things happening in her own life, her invitation for him to write back and let her know how he’s doing, and her promise to write again soon. Refolding the letter, he stuffed it back in the envelope and picked up his sister-in-law’s missive. Finding it merely a friendly hello, and a gentle reiteration of the promise
that they were, indeed, depositing each monthly check from the CCC into a special bank account, he gave a tiny grin and returned the page to its envelope.

  Finally, he opened Alec’s letter. He had only heard from Alec once since his visit, and that had been to once again apologize for having had to deliver such devastating news. This letter was light hearted and optimistic; sharing funny things that happened at work, or something Earl had done or said. It actually brought Vic a chuckle or two.

  However, when he turned to the second page of the letter where his friend informed him that he and Fleet had decided to go ahead and tie the knot, he felt his stomach tighten.

  Can you believe it, man? Me? Married? Who woulda ever thought? But no, really, man, Fleet’s a great gal and I figure I better snatch her up before some other sneaky wolf comes along and sweeps her away.

  Vic pursed his lips, knowing that Alec couldn’t have known his words would pour salt into an already raw wound. He finished reading the rest quickly, which was simply a few details about when and where the wedding would take place, and his friend’s regrets that one of his two best friends would not be there, as he had rightly figured Vic wouldn’t be able to obtain a furlough.

  With a heavy sigh, Vic sat up on his bunk as he returned his friend’s letter back into its envelope. Standing, he quickly stowed the correspondence in his footlocker as he acknowledged with a nod a few of the other guys tramping in the door, stomping snow from their boots and laughing.

  Wandering over to the window that looked out on the forest beyond the cleared area of the camp, he leaned against the frame with his hands shoved into the back pockets of his uniform pants, and allowed his gaze to roam over the snow-covered trees. For a long while, he simply stood there, blocking out the sounds of his barrack mates, as he imagined various scenes happening back home, including Alec and Fleet’s upcoming wedding. The faces in the images slowly changed into his and Louise’s as he imagined a happy wedding day…

  All day he had been fighting off the memories of that night a year before, when the gang had ridden around all evening in Earl’s dad’s big old black hearse. But finally he allowed the images to come back in full force…the laughter and fun… and Louise perched on his lap. Closing his eyes, he could still almost smell the fresh scent of her hair…feel the warmth of her body pressed against him, hear her soft giggles, and see the sparkle in those hazel eyes whenever she would turn her head to meet his gaze.

  Then finally, he remembered the kiss they had shared when he had dropped her off at Fleet’s house. It still amazed him that every time they had kissed he had felt a spark pass between them that would always cause them to lean in closer and melt into one another’s embrace. When finally he had pulled back, he had smiled as his thumb brushed the edge of her mouth.

  Now leaning his head against the cold glass of the windowpane, he whispered with a soft sigh, “Happy Birthday, Mary Lou. I…I wish you was missin’ me as much as I’m missin’ you…”

  It would have given him a tiny bit of perverse pleasure if he had known just how much she actually was…

  ‡

  CHAPTER 27

  Bittersweet Joy in the Midst of Misery

  The days passed slowly by, and for the embittered couple, life seemed to be stuck in a revolving door. Gone was the girl who had once made it a habit to look for joy in simple things – who knew how to take pleasure in small favors and snippets of happiness. Now, there never seemed to be any of those to enjoy! For Louise, the frequent sore throats she had suffered all her life came back with a vengeance – an occurrence that Lilly was convinced had been made worse by Louise’s constant emotional turmoil.

  About a month after the disappointment over Louise’s birthday, things seemed to brighten up some when T.J. came home one day and announced that they were moving to a two room apartment on Oak Street, which wasn’t far from the neighborhood Louise grew up in. Immediately, thoughts of being able to see her family more often, and perhaps renew acquaintances with her friends, brightened Louise’s spirits.

  The move had been accomplished without much fanfare – with the Richardsons practically shoving them out the door while ushering in their replacement tenants. Louise set up housekeeping in the new space, which amounted to the front two rooms on the second floor of a large old Victorian home that had been turned into apartments. Although it had seen better days, with the outside in need of a coat of paint, the rooms inside were clean and in fairly good shape. They had their own kitchen space on one side of the larger room. However, they still had to share the bathroom with the occupants of the other apartment on the second floor. But at least – the first floor tenants had their own bath downstairs.

  Her joy was short-lived, however, when she began to once again experience frequent attacks of tonsillitis. The ailment was very hard on the young woman’s constitution, and had caused her family much concern. Her husband handled each occurrence with his usual impatience. He was worried about their mounting medical bills, and to be truthful, they added to his increasing frustration over their marital relations.

  One morning in early May, Louise once again woke up with the familiar symptoms of a scratchy throat and fever, followed quickly by her staggering down the hall to the bathroom feeling sick to her stomach. Each time this had happened, T.J. had hoped that his wife was finally pregnant, which only added to his angst when he realized it was another bout of illness.

  “You sick again?” he growled when Louise dragged herself back to bed, not bothering to stay up and fix his breakfast.

  “Yeah,” she croaked miserably, shivering with the sudden high fever.

  He sat up and glanced over at her, striving to curb his peevish state. After a few moments fighting against his ongoing resentment from yet another night with no sexual satisfaction, he growled testily, “Well, get up then and get dressed. Guess I’ll have to drop you off at your folks’ again.” Then as he swore angrily, he swung his feet out of bed and padded over to his dresser, yanked open the top drawer, and removed a pair of socks. Tersely he informed her that he would be working late every night that week and wouldn’t feel like taking care of her when he got home. “So pack some clothes. Your mama can take care of you.”

  Reaching for the handkerchief lying on her nightstand and smothering a coughing fit, Louise nodded wretchedly before dragging herself out of bed and around the room, gathering the items she would need. Her head felt so fuzzy she could hardly concentrate.

  Thirty minutes later, T.J. dropped her off at the curb and drove on down the street without so much as a backward glance as she shakily made it up the steps of the apartment house.

  Upon opening the door at Louise’s timid knock, Lilly took one look at her daughter and gasped, “Oh Louise. You’ve got another one of your sore throats, don’t you,” before ushering her inside and folding her in her arms.

  Louise nodded miserably as she burrowed her face into her mother’s neck.

  “Well, come on. I’ll put you in Edna’s bed and then I’ll ask Mrs. Higgins to call the doctor.”

  Louise was so thankful to have her mother there to care for her, as she snuggled down into the familiar covers on the bed she had shared with her sister for so many years.

  With a weak smile, she watched her mother fussing and flitting around the room as she brought Louise items to help her feel better while they waited for the doctor to make a house call. They knew they were very lucky that the doctor would accept payments, adding his fee onto T.J.’s bill.

  The thought of that gave Louise a tiny bit of pleasure in the midst of her misery.

  *

  Saturday afternoon two weeks after coming down with her latest episode of illness, Louise ventured outside to attend to some errands. Spring had arrived, along with warmer temperatures, of which she was especially glad. It meant being able to go outside and get some fresh air now and then without having to be afraid of coming down with a relapse – something she very much did not want to do.

  Walking slowly along, win
dow-shopping and daydreaming, she glanced forward and was pleasantly surprised to see two friendly faces walking toward her from the opposite direction.

  “Fleet! Alec!” she squealed, rushing forward and colliding into Fleet’s arms as her friend met her halfway. Alec laughed at Fleet’s exuberance and reached the pair just as they separated. Overjoyed to see Vic’s best friend again, Louise flung herself against him and wrapped her arms around his neck in greeting.

  “Wow girl, long time no see,” Fleet crooned when Louise stepped back.

  “Oh I know! I was beginning to think I’d never see you again!” Louise gushed, a happy grin plastered across her face. A hundred questions filled her mind and she felt close to bursting with curiosity. Both Fleet and Alec looked wonderful, and very happy. Alec was well dressed, with creased pants and a nice dress shirt – he seemed…calmer, less boyish somehow. Fleet looked radiant. Louise noticed she had fixed her hair a bit differently…pulled back on one side with a pearl comb, and she was wearing the smart red and white outfit she had worn the day they had all gone to Fontaine Ferry.

  Reaching out to take her friends by the hands, Louise glanced down and immediately noticed a gold band nestled next to a diamond crowned ring, adorning Fleet’s finger.

  “Oh my gosh! Did you guys get married?” she gasped, looking wide-eyed from one to the other as they exchanged amused glances.

  “Sure did. Would you believe this crazy gal talked me into marryin’ her on Valentine’s Day?” Alec confessed with his trademark laugh. The two exchanged a meaningful gaze that seemed full of private history. Alec grinned and winked at his wife.

  “Valentine’s? Oh goodness…I wish I’d have known…I wish I could have come…” Louise murmured, the joy in seeing them again dimming just a bit as she realized how much she had missed. “Who was your maid of honor? Where was the wedding? Who was your best ma…” she queried, stopping short on the last question and meeting Alec’s eyes.