Love of Finished Years

by Gregory Erich Phillips

  He didn’t try to open his eyes anymore. He feared what was there behind the lids that had quickly forgotten even how to blink. But damaged as they were, his eyes hadn’t lost the ability to cry. He spent many nights on the ship in tears.

  When his ship landed in New York, Glenn was greeted as a hero. Captain Billings had recounted the story of Glenn’s bravery, which turned out to have had a significant impact on the German supply route. Later convoys, fearing ambush, took roundabout routes to the front, further delaying progress and giving the Allies time to prepare the counterattack. Once Billings learned Glenn was alive, he recommended him for the Medal of Honor to go with the Purple Heart he had earned. A full-page account of the story was published in the New York Times the day before Glenn’s ship arrived.

  Glenn was polite on his arrival. He shook all the hands of the people he couldn’t see. He posed for pictures and tried to smile, wondering what he looked like.

  But all he wanted was to go home.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  On Moonlight Bay

  After reading the story in the Times, Elsa knew where she would take the train the next Sunday. She rose early and boarded the Long Island train instead of attending church. She hadn’t been back to Lindenhurst in two and a half years.

  The streets looked exactly the same. While the city changed so rapidly, here there was a comforting stability. The sea breeze blew softly against the cool, fall morning, stirring so much nostalgia in her heart. How she loved this little town. She felt like she was coming home.

  Yet the familiarity could not dispel her fear as she walked from the train station toward the Streppys’ home. What right had she to presume this town was still her home? The role which first brought her here was long gone. So much had changed for all of them since that day. While Lindenhurst may have looked the same, everything was different since the war. Nobody could escape that fact.

  She was different, too, Elsa reminded herself, as she mustered the determination to go on. She was no longer the girl who could be so easily frightened. It was time for her to be brave.

  If going to see Glenn at his camp had been bold, going to see him at his family home was much bolder. It was presumptuous. But she had to. Her whole life pointed her toward this moment—all her hard work, all the dreams she had barely dared. She refused to let her fear defeat her. He needed her, too. That knowledge strengthened her. She had nothing to lose—nothing except her heart, and that was already committed.

  She approached the house, wondering whom she should hope would greet her at the door: Mrs. Streppy, who was kind but very conservative, with a firm sense of propriety? Mr. Streppy, whom she had only met once or twice and had never exchanged words with? Jeanette, who would grasp everything at once and be fiercely protective of her wounded brother, or perhaps if she were lucky, it would be a servant who didn’t know her.

  Her heart pounded in her chest. Elsa only paused a moment on the porch before knocking.

  It was Mrs. Streppy who opened the door. Elsa hadn’t seen her since the tea at the Graham house when Glenn announced his enlistment. Today she looked exhausted. There was both relief and pain written over her whole body. Elsa’s heart went out to the mother who had endured the same fear and uncertainty as she had this year.

  There seemed to be a lot of activity in the house, apparent through the open doorway, but Elsa saw no one else behind Mrs. Streppy in the hall.

  She hardly knew what she should say, finally managing only “Hello.”

  “What are you doing here?”

  Elsa thought Mrs. Streppy’s tone spoke of her exhaustion more than anything, so she forgave the harshness of the words. She remained bold. “I hoped to see Mr. Glenn.” She almost forgot to include the “Mister,” which would have been much too bold. “Is he here?”

  “Oh, dear, this is too much.” Mrs. Streppy looked as if she would burst into tears. “I feel for you, Elsa, I do. I know the Grahams had to let you go, but we cannot afford a servant, and neither can they. We had to let our own girl go, too. These are new times. Glenn is badly wounded—I’m sure you’ve heard—but we will care for him ourselves. We cannot afford a servant or a nurse.”

  Elsa was taken aback. “No, Mrs. Streppy,” she stammered, “it is not like that. I . . .” But what could she say? She couldn’t tell Glenn’s mother what she really wanted. Who did she mean by we?

  Mrs. Streppy looked at her fiercely. “Please leave us be.”

  Elsa wasn’t ready to give up. Mrs. Streppy demeanor was merely a misunderstanding. It had to be.

  Just then, her eyes were drawn past Mrs. Streppy by the movement in the hall. A woman walked past from the drawing room. Could that be Mrs. Graham? What was she doing there? Then another figure came into view through the open door. No, it was impossible. Dafne!

  Elsa couldn’t breathe. Her knees grew weak. She stared in shock as Dafne’s head turned slowly toward her. Their eyes met, and Elsa felt her total defeat.

  Of course. How could she have ever presumed to take Glenn from Dafne?

  “Who’s there, mother?” Elsa heard Jeanette’s voice from inside, just before the door closed sharply in her face.

  Elsa took a step back from the closed door, a wall erected firmly between her and everything her heart yearned for. She hung onto the porch railing to keep from collapsing. In an instant, all her dreams had crumbled to dust. She could not even cry, so numb did she feel from both heartbreak and shame.

  She began to retrace her steps to the street. Even crying for her loss would be foolish now. She never should have fancied such an impossibility. It had been rash to come here.

  It was Glenn’s place to invite her to his home, not hers to impose. For all the ways the world had changed since the war, some things would never change. She was still a poor, homely serving girl, she thought. And Dafne was still Dafne. Everything her mother used to warn her about had come true. What a fool she was.

  She did not blame Glenn, but it now seemed he had used her love, if inadvertently, as his comfort through the difficulty of war, perhaps talking himself into believing he loved her, too. But naturally now they would all seek to reestablish order to their world: the two mothers, Dafne, even Glenn himself. It would be comforting to them all to go on as if nothing had changed.

  Finally her tears came in a torrent. She quickened her steps, suddenly eager to get out of this town, away from all the memories. There was nothing for her here. There never was.

  Footsteps sounded behind her. “Elsa, wait.”

  She didn’t stop or turn. She wanted to disappear from these people, to sink into anonymity and try to rebuild her life.

  Jeanette ran up and grabbed her arm. “Elsa!”

  She blinked back her tears and looked up into Jeanette’s eyes.

  “Come back, please.”

  She tried to say something, but nothing would sound right. Jeanette had only known her in a certain role. With Dafne and her mother there, wouldn’t it just feel like a big happy reunion with Elsa coming back, too? Maybe Jeanette thought that she could be Glen and Dafne’s serving girl.

  “The Grahams were just leaving,” said Jeanette. “They had no right to impose.”

  Elsa didn’t understand. She was the one who was imposing.

  “To think they would waltz in and assume everything could be like it was. After Dafne betrayed him, and now with these Sapphic murmurings coming out of New York. Honestly! My brother won’t be a mere path back to respectability for that woman.”

  Elsa felt so confused. Jeanette took both her shoulders in her hands and looked at her earnestly. “I’m so glad you came. I hoped you would.”

  Elsa took a breath to steady herself and looked into Jeanette’s eyes. She saw warmth there, even a welcoming friendship. In the past, Jeanette had known Elsa only as Dafne’s serving girl.

  “He’s blind, you know. We had to unpack all his things. I saw his packet of letters from you. I didn’t read them; don’t worry,” Jeanette continued. “And I didn’t le
t Mother see them. . . she wouldn’t have understood. But I do. I know. I trust you with him.”

  “Thank you.” Elsa’s nerves were tossed by waves of emotion.

  “The war changed so many things. It’s not so unusual anymore that you and Glenn could love each other. Don’t worry about my mother; she will accept you in time.”

  Elsa was amazed. Was this the same Jeanette who had resented Dafne’s relationship with her brother? Elsa had expected the same reaction toward herself. But Jeanette’s eyes showed her the truth: she cared more for character than station, and she had spent enough time around Elsa to know hers.

  “My brother needs love so much right now.” Jeanette took Elsa’s arm and led her back toward the house. “You can give him that. Dafne never could and certainly has no right to try now.”

  Elsa retraced her nervous walk to the Streppys’ door, but this time took courage from having a friend and ally beside her.

  Jeanette opened the front door. “Glenn’s in the parlor.”

  Elsa left her coat in the hall and walked quietly forward. Jeanette slipped away.

  Her heart filled when she saw Glenn, sitting alone in a padded chair. His eyelids were closed and scarred, but his face had survived the burns reasonably well. His frame was gaunt. How he had changed since she’d first met him, as the stocky college student who filled out his suits. Sadness was etched on his mouth. She wanted to cry for him . . . to somehow share in his sorrow, even though she beheld him with joy. She wondered how long it had been since he’d smiled.

  She waited another minute, then walked silently across the room and knelt beside him.

  “Hello, Glenn.”

  His face leaped. His neck strained in her direction. It was sad to see him instinctively look for her though he couldn’t see.

  She laid her head on his knees. “Welcome home.”

  “Elsa, is it really you? Give me your hand so I know it’s not a dream.”

  “Here is my hand. Here is my heart. I am here to love you and care for you.”

  He took her hand and brought it up to touch his face. She sighed. Glenn’s voice and movements seemed sharp and nervous to her, unlike the steadiness she always remembered from him.

  “I dreamed of this moment so often during those dark days of the war,” he said. “I can hardly believe this time it’s real.”

  “I had to come to you, as soon as I knew you were home.” Elsa felt like her heart would beat out of her chest.

  Glenn pressed her hand against his face. Her touch seemed to calm his nerves.

  “I wanted to believe you would come to me, but I didn’t know. I wanted to ask you to come, but how could I, now? Look at me. I’m a broken man.”

  “Let me help you to become whole again.”

  “I had wanted to give you so much, dear Elsa. But I can do nothing for you now.”

  Elsa could hardly believe the daring she found. She lifted herself from his knee and brought her face close to his and kissed him firmly on the lips. He took a moment to realize, emitting a quick gasp before responding to her touch. She held a second longer, delighting in this first kiss for which she had barely dared to dream. She knelt and laid her head back on his knee.

  “You do not have to,” he said as he softly stroked the top of her head. “You have your whole life in front of you. I have nothing to give you in return.”

  “I love you, Glenn. Let my eyes guide you through anything you want to see. Nothing could make me happier than to be with you, serve you, see for you, and most of all . . . love you.”

  They remained for several long moments in silence. Glenn breathed slowly. When he spoke again, he had regained some of the calm thoughtfulness Elsa knew from him. She hoped her presence was already helping.

  “My dear Elsa, I have been through such hell this last year. While I begin to learn how to live without sight, I also feel I need to learn how to be a man again. But through all the horror, you were there with me every moment. My love for you strengthened me and helped keep me from descending to the depths this war might have led me to. In the last days, when I was half-dead, when every day should have been my last, your love kept me alive. I felt it across all the miles—actively and energetically—I felt your unwavering love.”

  “Yes, Glenn. Every day, even when I feared you were dead.”

  “The moment the explosion took my sight was the moment I realized how deeply I loved you. For a second I thought I had died, and I was filled with regret. Once I knew I had a chance to live, I held onto it in hopes of this—in hopes of hearing your voice again and touching your hand. Perhaps I cannot see you, but in the eye of my heart I see you clearly before me now. Many images have become blurred to me, but the image of your face is the one thing that is completely clear.”

  He lifted her head and with both his hands began to feel the lines of her face.

  “I remember every curve of your face, every hair of your head, the shape of your eyes, everything as if I were gazing at you with seeing eyes right now.”

  Elsa suddenly felt shy, as if she were being stared at. She had never been accustomed to being looked at. But his eyes were still closed.

  Glenn moved his hands to her shoulders and pulled her up to him. She hugged him where he sat, sitting on and pressed her face against his cheek. He clasped her tightly. His hands moved on her back as he tried to pull every inch of her toward him. Elsa felt her love being pulled into him . . . comforting him, healing him.

  “How I wanted to hold you like this,” he said. “Beautiful Elsa. I love you so much.”

  Elsa could hardly believe the words she was hearing—words she had never dreamed she would hear from a man.

  After several contented minutes Elsa stood up, bending toward him as she again looked at his face. “How can I make you smile?”

  “You have already done so much. But it will be hard for me to smile.”

  Smiling herself, she walked to the nearby gramophone. She spotted the record to which she had danced with him on their last night in Lindenhurst. Dafne and Jeanette had fought long about the possession of this record. When Dafne moved to New York, Jeanette finally won.

  Elsa placed the needle. As the music began it had the opposite effect from what she had hoped. Glenn’s face darkened with sorrow. “This music makes me remember how much I loved to dance. I will never be able to dance again.”

  She walked to his chair and pulled him to his feet. “You can try.”

  Sensing his resistance, she shaped his arms around her. “I do not know the steps. You will have to lead me, but I will keep you from running into things.”

  He hesitated for a moment before taking a first step, then another. The rhythm was still in his feet.

  We were sailing along,

  On Moonlight Bay.

  We could hear the voices ringing,

  They seemed to say . . .

  You have stolen my heart,

  Now don’t go ‘way . . .

  As we sang love’s old sweet song

  On Moonlight Bay.

  She clutched his hand as they embraced and directed him. “There’s a lamp there. Oh . . . that’s the wall.”

  When the song was over Elsa wished he could see how she beamed at him.

  “That didn’t go so bad. If you teach me more of the steps, we can dance even more.”

  “Thank you. It feels so good to dance.”

  She touched his lips with her finger. “You smiled.”

  With the smile still on his lips, Glenn pulled her close to him. She melted into his strong arms, delighting in being held by him. How far away this dream had seemed mere moments ago and now it is real.

  “Elsa, my love, if you will have me, broken and all, will you marry me and be my wife?”

  “Yes, Glenn, yes.”

  “Feeling you here, hearing your voice, you have brought me back out of the darkness. I never want to let you go.”

  She took a deep breath, still unable to believe this was really happening. . . to her, not
to some character in a story.

  “It may take my parents some time to accept it, so be patient. Just today my mother and Dafne’s mother tried to put our engagement back on. My mother is very conservative, but once she gets to know you, I know she will love you as I do.”

  “I will wait as long as it takes. I want to be with you no matter what. I can be patient and understanding—as long as it takes.”

  “Today you pulled me back out of my nightmare. You gave me back my hope and my courage. I will find a way, even blind.”

  She pulled back and looked at his face. “Can you open your eyes?”

  “I don’t know.”

  She smiled compassionately. It sounded so simple, so childlike, yet she understood the difficulty. “Try.”

  “I’m afraid of what you’ll see. I’m afraid I have no eyes left.”

  “I am not afraid. I want to love all of you, even the scars. Just because you cannot see, do not deprive me of the joy of seeing your eyes.”

  Glenn’s face contorted in concentration. It took him a moment to open eyelids that had been shut for months. The muscles had grown weak. At last they opened.

  Elsa’s own eyes swam with tears of joy. His were still the same eyes she knew, remembered and loved. His eyes were dull and distant, but there was no death in them.

  “You still have beautiful eyes, my love. They are not so damaged. Keep them open a little bit each day. Let them search for light. Perhaps one day, my love can teach them to see again.”

  Looking at those eyes, Elsa saw mirrored in them the depth of the horror Glenn saw in the war. It must have literally turned off certain parts of his mind that he didn’t want to revisit. Could it be that the pathway to sight hadn’t been irrevocably damaged, but merely turned off by the terror of that waking nightmare? If so, what better than love to re-forge that path? She would pray for a miracle, just as Josephine suggested.