The ship landed in New York. Deirdre felt strange when she stepped on the dock. This was her country, but having been with Étienne and the Maquis, and having been through everything she had, she nervously wondered whether she would be able to adjust to the United States and her family. One of the first things she knew she must do was to call her parents. When her mother answered, suddenly Deirdre’s eyes began to tear, and she cried with excitement. “Mom, it’s me. I’m home. I’m in New York and will be going to the discharge center.” Before she finished, Christine shouted, “Deirdre, my dear. Oh, it’s been so long.” Her mother having shouted Deirdre, now cried along with her daughter, both sobbing. “Ohhh, I don’t know what to say. That damn war took you away from us,” the words coming with chokes, the swearing something her mother never used. “I just want to see and hug you forever, Deirdre.”
“Me too, mom.”
By then, Edward was on the other line they had bought during the war. “Deirdre, it’s dad. When are you coming home? Will it be long? How we have missed you,” he shouted.
All of Edward’s bitterness had disappeared, worry taking its place when they had not heard from her for some time. Actually the letters they received were sent at intervals by the OSS with a P.O. address, letters that she had written before leaving for France. They were ignorant of what their daughter did or had done. That was over now, however, and Deirdre would soon be in Maine.
“I have to go to New Jersey, mom and dad, and be discharged. Then I want to look about a little.” She thought they would wonder why. “Well, actually, I want to do a little shopping in New York. I promise, though, I’ll be fast. I’m so anxious to see you”
“We too. Oh, Deirdre, thank God you’re alive after those nasty storms we read about.” What would it have been had they known what she had done, where she had been?
“I’m O.K., mom.”
Edward shouted. “O.K. You shop but make it fast and come home like our stunning daughter we have missed so.”
Deirdre smiled. Yes, what if they knew.
After discharge, she went to the best stores, bought perfume, “Evening in Paris”, thinking of Étienne kissing her, and of his lips moving to her ears, her neck, aroused by the odor of Paris, slipping inside her, hearing him, herself, waking in the morning beside him. Then there were the lipsticks, color for her face and eyes, the latest dresses. But – she did not wear the clothes. She wanted her parents to see her in her officer’s uniform, probably everyone in the town. She had not yet heard about Kevin and was anxious about his news.
About a week later, she went to Grand Central, trains still crowded with troops, then took a cab in Boston to North Station for a train that would take her to Portland, Maine from where a bus would take her to Warrington.
She stood at the door, straightened her uniform, brushed back her hair, and opened the door that was always unlocked, “Mom, Dad.” Shrieks, rapid steps, hugs, tears, crying. Deirdre had not realized how pleased she would feel to be home, having been so anxious to leave. Her cap fell to the floor, but then Edward pushed her back a little to see her better. They had received letters that Deirdre, as an officer, had the authority to censor herself. Only now did it occur to Edward that his daughter was a Second Lieutenant.
Deirdre now thought of Kevin, asking if they had heard anything.
“Darling,” Christine caught her breath. She thought Kevin and Deirdre would have been writing one another, although that would not have made any difference until the correspondence would have stopped. “Darling,” she again drew a deep breath. “He was killed in France.”
Deirdre stared at her mother, seeing the dead in Lyon. “When? Where?” she also catching her breath.
“We’re not sure. We do know he was in the tanks. Maybe the Germans . . . . Oh, we don’t know, Deirdre.”
“Dead.” Despite her experiences, a chill engulfed her. The death of a friend. Despite the deaths of others that affected individuals, Deirdre having heard it all - how people react, seeing reactions, feeling her own - knew there could be lasting effects. Why had they fought this war to lose Kevins, to have loved the raped like Juliette and been helpless to assuage her recurring terror? Unknowingly, that hatred buried itself in Deirdre. If it came to the surface, she wondered whether it would affect her throughout her life.
As it was, she returned to school and tried to live as she had before. Unfortunately, “before” was lost forever. Often she went to class or social affairs, but lost to her was the self-satisfaction of her youth. Taking its place was a selfishness that would last throughout her life. She would, she told herself, never again allow anyone or anything to prevent the fulfillment of her social or sexual desires.
_______________
Chapter IX
Sea’s Vicissitudes
Brigit was on late shift. Gregory sat, paced, anxious for her to come home. He had become the youngest chief of research in the short time since finishing his fellowship. He picked up the newspaper, rustled the pages. The news was much the same except that now, in 1952, the Korean War had been a constant reminder of death and hatred. He wondered, looking at the headline, whether the world had forgotten so soon the obscenity of a world war.
MacArthur wanted to use nuclear weapons. The Chinese desired to reveal a new world power.
Gregory smiled. Here he was working in a laboratory to find cures to keep people alive or how to better treat them, and in Korea men worked to undo his work. More dead bodies, more atrocities. Nothing he did in a laboratory could help or stop what was happening. One day, however, he believed he would succeed, that he had not fought in the war for nothing and been permanently wounded uselessly, for his work was one answer. Yet there was the sadness that only Brigit could cure. In her presence, making love to her, the odor of her skin, the pleasure of running his fingers through her red hair, the feel of her response and her calming effect as she lay back looking up at him, seeing their reflections in one another’s eyes, was the peace the world sought, that he had found.
He lay down thinking about her, knowing she would be happy when she heard his news.
When she came home, 11:30 p.m., he was asleep on the sofa. She walked softly to him, lightly touched his hair, and went to the kitchen. Although she thought she was quiet, he woke, walked to her and hugged, pulling her against him.
“Oh. I’m sorry I woke you. Here I thought I was being so quiet.” She turned and kissed him, looked at him, her whole life seen in him.
“I love you,” and he nuzzled his nose in her neck and hair. “What are you making?” He wanted to tell her, but wanted her to relax first, to be comfortable.
“Soup. Coffee. Want some?”
“Hmmm.”
She removed her uniform, got a robe, returned. He enjoyed watching the sureness with which she moved, the glow in her face because she was home. “You look so fetching. Come here and kiss me.” He put up his arms, and smiling, she went to him. She sat on his lap, kissing and hugging for a while. “O.K. Let’s eat,” she whispered.
While they ate, he told her, “I have something special to tell you.”
“What? You found another woman?” she laughed.
“That’s not funny. I couldn’t leave you even if dragged by a chain. No one can match that dazzling face and body, that voice. Brigit, do you realize how much I do love you.”
She watched his face and eyes as he spoke. “Yes, as much as I love you. Now tell me.”
“A friend of mine from Cape Astraea offered me Chief of Isotope Research at the Maine Center for Illness and Research. Coincidentally we were at med school together. He’s got an in with the administration and Chief of Staff, and without my knowing or my consent, submitted my name. They told him to get me. Naturally, they’ll want to see and interview me. But he thinks there’ll be no doubt. What do you think?”
“That’s tremendous. See, I told you you were going places.” She was somewhat sad to be leaving her position, if they went to Maine. She had become a head nurse in Ob/Gyn and
Birthing and would have to start all over again. But she couldn’t hold Gregory back, even though his reputation was growing in Boston. That’s why they want him. I can’t keep him here. I’m happy for him. Shall I bring up marriage now? It’s time. We’ve lived together long enough. I know they talk behind my back, think I’m a fallen woman. I am. My parents aren’t happy. Marriage will satisfy them after all this time even if he is Jewish. Why should I care now? It’s Maine, different people. His parents? They’ve always been nice. Mary and I get along so well. It’s no good any longer with him rising.
“You’re so quiet, Brigit.”
“Thinking.”
“You don’t want me to accept?” he questioned quizzically.
She hesitated. Stood.
“What’s wrong?”
“I think it’s so wonderful for you.” Again she hesitated.
“Something’s wrong. Leaving your job?”
“Partly.” She paused. “Greg, you know I love you.”
“I know that. We love each other. But you’re unhappy.”
Oh, why have I done this? What good is it? The way we’re living. I just can’t do it anymore. Some of the nurses talk about me. I know they do. I come into a room, and they stop talking. Yeah. They’re all virgins - like fun. I know men have gone into their rooms, seen them, heard two of them one night when I had to stay for a delivery. The war destroyed virginity. She smiled, started to laugh. Virginity. How about the 1920s? The first time, I was scared and excited and wondered whether he had made me pregnant. What’s wrong with me? I’ve never truly cared. I have. I’ve fooled myself – and Greg. Thomas Erickson’s been after me. Asked me out after I helped him with the patient with ovarian cancer. He’s a nice guy. No one can take Gregory’s place. No one. But it’s time.
Gregory sat watching her, rose and went to her and touched her shoulder. “Brigit. You’re so far away. What’s wrong? If you don’t want me to go . . .” I have to go. “What’s wrong, dear?”
She turned, pushed him toward the sofa, fell on him. “Gregory Hurwitz.” She looked in his eyes. “Greg. I want you to be good at what you do. You are. You’ll be famous.” She hesitated, placed her head between his head and shoulder. “Greg. It’s . . .” Why should I be proposing? “Well, it’s time we married. My family, yours, want it, will be happier about us.” She stopped, embarrassed.
He pushed up from below her, straightened her so she sat straight. “Brigit Donovan. I love you. Did you know that? Will you marry me?”
“Yes, you idiot.” She smiled happily, laughed. “Why have you waited so long? I’ve done everything I know how to get you to ask. I bat my eyes, do strip teases for you. Say, you never took me to Scollay Square. I buy sexy clothes and underwear. And I bet you . . . .” Her face reddened.
“You don’t have to say it,” he laughed. “No. Nobody can take your place in bed.”
“We’ll have to have the ceremony in Las Cruces, you know.”
“I know that. Tell your mother to arrange it, but let’s wait until I’ve actually got the position so we can surprise everyone. I won’t even tell my parents, until then.”
“You can’t do that. Someone will tell your father we were there. He probably knows about it already.”
“You do want to marry me, Greg?”
“Stop it. We’ve talked about this. I don’t even know why we waited so long.”
“I do. Because you’ve had me.” She stopped, sorry she said it, though she had often thought it. Let a man have you, and he’s got you cornered in your own desire. When I think of that nurse, how she was so sure and then dropped. It was horrible watching her.
“I don’t want you to talk like that. Nobody’s your equal.”
The next afternoon, Gregory went to a jewelry store on Boylston Street, looked at the rings and decided he’d take Brigit with him so she could help choose and get the right fit. “No. She’s home today.” He called. “Brigit, are you doing anything?”
“Thinking of what to make for dinner tonight. It’s something special.”
“Well how about if we go out, say the Parker House – or. No. We’re going to the Ritz.” Before she could answer, he spoke again. “Are you dressed? If not, get into some nice clothes and meet me at the corner of Boylston and Arlington Streets, say in about an hour. That will give you time to fix your face etc. Love you, darling,” and hung up.
He waited impatiently, saw her come from the subway stop and walk toward him, watching the movement of her body, watching men look at her, one turning to see her rear and its sway. “Yeah. I know what you’re thinking. Sorry, buddy. She’s mine.” For a moment he thought of the hospital and the men talking about her as a piece of ass. It still infuriated him.
He ran up to her, took her hand. “C’mon.” He pulled her gently toward the store.
“Greg. Stop. I’m in high heels.”
“Sorry.” He slowed, walked beside her. When she saw where he was taking her, she screamed softly. “I was going to do this on my own and present it to you tonight but thought you should have your choice and the right fit.” And so the first step, an engagement ring they both liked, that he immediately placed on her finger, and the wedding ring held for later. She wanted to kiss him, hug him tightly. The quivering through her body was almost sexual.
They left slowly. It was twilight. “Let’s have a drink. Then we can go to the dining room. I made reservations. O.K.?”
“Yes,” she told him quietly. “I want to kiss you right now.” She turned to him, neglecting propriety, the crowd of people, placed her arms about him and put her lips to his mouth. They stood together, people separating and passing them, looking, smiling, “I’d rather we go to bed.”
“We’ll drink and eat first. Can you wait?”
“What an insult. You turned me down.” She pulled him harder to herself and kissed him, her tongue licking his. “We can’t do it on the street. In fact, we’ve made a show of ourselves, so we’ll do things your way.” She doubted she had ever been so happy. She wanted his hands on her breasts, moving over her entire body. “I’m so excited. Are you?”
“I am. Believe me. I am.”
They went to the lounge after which they went to the dining room. Seated close by a window looking out on the Public Garden, Gregory happened to turn toward the restaurant entrance. A husky, tall man was taking a wrap from a woman with dark hair and a very attractive face. She moved her shoulders in a provocative manner, enabling the wrap to fall into his hand that he nonchalantly gave to the maître d. She was perhaps as tall as Brigit, wore a bare-shouldered dress, her right ring finger displaying for the public a large diamond ring. About her neck was a single strand of pearls. Exhibiting herself, she walked slowly, self-assuredly to their table. Other dinner guests also watched her. She turned and smiled at her escort as a waiter held the chair for her. She sat slowly, pulling slightly at her long skirt.
Étienne was clearly proud of his younger companion who wore his jewels. Both were known to the staff, they having been here a number of times before. But tonight was special. He had recently returned from Greece and sold two pieces of art to the Walker Museum of Antiquities. Deirdre prepared the way for him, for a number of museums in the United States knew of him and his work. Early on he had introduced her as his colleague to his connections sometime during the past year. Deirdre now had her introduction to the art world and society.
Brigit, talking to Gregory, saw Deirdre. Now there’s a sexy, rich one. The guy she’s with has money, knows how to get them like her. She thought of saying something to Gregory but thought better, only he had also seen her. “Look at that dress and the ring. Wow.”
“I don’t need one like that. But if you want, I’ll get an identical to hear your “Wow.”
He laughed. “You’re jealous.”
“I am not. What’s she got that I don’t, except for that rich geezer she’s with.” She was comparing herself to Deirdre but realized the woman was no better looking than was she. Two gorgeous women vying
for the diners’ recognition. Brigit got the same attention when she walked in, noticing the men and women looking, smiling to herself, trying to appear serious and nonchalant, yet pleased by the attention. When they sat at their table, she displayed her ring in its platinum setting, placing her hand on the table for the waiters and those near them to see.
Gregory smiled. “Well, at least I’m not a geezer.”
“No. A famous researcher, Nobel Prize winner to be.”
“What faith.” It pleased him she regarded him so. “I wouldn’t wait for the Nobel.”
“I won’t, as long as I have you.” She glanced at Deirdre, again comparing herself to the unknown woman. I will get a dress something like that. It’ll be part of my trousseau. Gather ye fruits while ye may. How many years can my body last like it is now. She started to take the mirror from her handbag, wanting to imagine what she’d become. Stupid. You’re desirable. For the remainder of the dinner there were just two newly engaged people, adoring one another, talking of their future and she interspersing the conversation with wedding plans.
When Gregory was looking at the bill, Brigit did glance at Deirdre. I need a dress that’ll show my bust like hers does. Well, mine does. Maybe we’re distant twins. In fact, their bodies were much alike and a matter of how each would choose to show it.
When they were home and as they closed the door, Brigit brushed against him, hugging him with her coat open, knowing he could feel her breasts. “It was a lovely evening, Greg. I’m so excited.” She raised her hand. “It’s so beautiful” She went to a lamp, placed her hand in the light. “Look how it shines.”
“Look how you shine.”
She sat on the sofa. “Come here.” And the night of love had begun, their sounds of pleasure ending in the excitement and relaxations of several orgasms. We’re one.” She rested her head on his chest, moving her fingers over his nipples. “Feel good?” quietly.
Our Seas of Fear and Love Page 19
