“Guess you’d better pull up a seat,” Audra said to him.
He hopped onto a stool. As he picked out a paintbrush from a jar full of choices, Judith grabbed the paints. She squirted a rainbow of colors on a wooden palette and set up an easel with a small blank canvas. “Why don’t you start with painting anything you’d like? Then we can add on other materials from there.”
It occurred to Audra right then that Judith could be seeking further insight from Jack’s pictures. The boy had already endured so much testing and observing, Audra was tempted to end the activity.
But the truth was she, too, longed to see the images now in his head. And so she watched.
He painted the stick figure of a boy. He painted a girl in the same fashion. Once again, the two were holding hands.
Audra braced herself as Jack rinsed his brush in a cup. He dabbed at the palette to obtain another color. With a smooth stroke of green, he placed the couple on the grass.
No flames. No planes. No darkness or death.
He even put smiles on their faces. Adding to the scenery, he hung a yellow sun in the sky, launched a pair of birds upward, and planted trees on the ground. All symbols of the brightness and beauty of life.
Although relieved at first, Audra worried he was simply following orders, depicting “happier things” to appease those around him.
Then he paused, drawing back to study his progress. That’s when his mouth curved up in a look of genuine delight—and Audra’s mouth did the same.
She did wonder, though, about the identity of the couple; a lot of options had crossed her mind.
“Hey, Jack,” she ventured to ask, “who are those people supposed to be?”
He shrugged a shoulder. “Just two people.”
She thought about asking him in another way but then realized there was no need. When it came to viewing art, all that mattered was interpretation.
Later that night, Audra lay down in bed and closed her eyes with a feeling of satisfaction. It seemed only a moment had passed when she opened them again, yet sunlight was streaming through her window. Squinting against the rays, she languidly stretched her arms. She reveled in her restfulness until startled by a sense.
Something was wrong.
Jack.
Panic shot through her, the kind from early motherhood, when crib death was only a breath away.
She tore from her bed, heart in her throat, and in the next room discovered his bed empty. A thousand horrific scenarios sped through her thoughts, interrupted by the melody of a cheery tune. She hurried out to the living room and found Jack on the couch, the computer open on his lap, a bowl of Froot Loops at his side.
“Hi, buddy,” she said, recovering.
“Hi, Mom.”
“What are you doing?”
“Just playing a game. I’m trying to find Grace’s penguin at the pizza parlor. We’re supposed to meet at nine.”
Nine o’clock. She glanced toward the kitchen to verify the time on the microwave. When the realization struck, she nearly wept from joy.
Jack had slept through the night.
68
“Should we wake her?” Vivian whispered.
In his brimmed hat and coat, Gene stood beside Vivian in the doorway of Judith’s room. “Let’s let her sleep,” he answered, his reasoning obvious. Their little girl looked too peaceful to disturb at this hour. Outside her window, dusk had barely begun to lift.
“I’ll just kiss her good-bye,” Vivian said, unable to leave without this small token. They had spent not a single night apart since Judith was born.
Silently Vivian padded over to the crib, where the toddler lay on her back, arms spread wide. Her stuffed giraffe was tucked at her side. Its flimsy, spotted body was half covered by the very blanket that had swathed Judith when she had first come home from the hospital. The beginning of their lives together as a family.
Vivian leaned over the rail, hands covering the large buttons of her overcoat to prevent them from knocking against the crib. She touched her lips to the crown of Judith’s head, light as an angel’s kiss. “Sleep well, lovey bug,” she said in a hush, and had to resist the impulse to scoop her up and take her along.
This trip was not appropriate for Judith yet. But if all went well, someday she, too, would make the trek and meet the man who had gifted Vivian with the greatest treasure in the world: the life of her beautiful daughter.
“Vivi,” Gene whispered.
It was time to leave.
She exited the room in the same fashion she had entered, continuing into the hallway. Gene paused to send Judith a final loving look before closing the door without noise.
“I’ll get our suitcases,” he said, and headed to their bedroom. In the kitchen, Luanne was brewing a pot of coffee, filling the air with its rich aroma. She had arrived already dressed, but a scarf still covered her curlers.
“Sorry to make you come over so early,” Vivian said to her. “I would have preferred a later train, but you know your brother. He insisted we take the first one out.”
“It’s no trouble. Fred was up most of the night studying for his exams. I couldn’t sleep well anyway.”
In this moment, face-to-face with Luanne, an urge to tell the truth scaled the walls of Vivian’s conscience. Gene had insisted the arrangements he made were on the stipulation of keeping them confidential. He had assured his contact that even their families believed they were escaping to Cape Cod, to a secluded inn on the coast with no phones, no radio.
But what if Judith were to have an emergency?
Gene reappeared with two suitcases. “I’ll go flag us a cab.”
Vivian nodded.
“Thanks again for watching her, Lu,” he said.
“The pleasure’s all mine.”
He smiled at his sister before turning away and maneuvering the luggage out the door.
As Vivian snapped her handbag shut, she imagined her confession stored inside between her handkerchief and powder compact. The trip was too important to risk a cancellation of plans by saying too much. What’s more, to name the destination would require an explanation about Isaak. This would come in time, but not yet.
She pulled on her gloves and travel hat, and Luanne trailed her to the door. The departure now imminent, Vivian’s thoughts sprinted with any instructions she might have forgotten. “Now, did I tell you where to find the extra crib sheets?”
“You did. In the top of Judith’s closet.”
“Precisely. Oh, and for bath time, be sure to pull her out when the water’s cool. She’d let herself freeze to the bone if you let her.”
“I promise not to let her freeze to the bone.”
Vivian caught the teasing but was too focused to be playful. “Also, if she happens to run a temperature, you can use the thermometer in my bathroom drawer. But if the number doesn’t seem right, you can usually tell by putting your lips on her forehead. Either that, or-”
“My dearest sister, you will never make it to the shore at this rate.”
Vivian scrunched her nose. “Good grief, I’m being dreadful, aren’t I?”
“No. You’re being a mother. But don’t worry, I’ve read all eight pages of the notes you wrote down for me. And I promise you, for the next week Fred and I will take care of Judith as if she were our own.”
Vivian smiled and grasped Luanne’s arm. “I know you will.”
“Now, then. With that settled, you’d better get out there. My brother must be chomping at the bit. You two enjoy your belated honeymoon.”
“Thank you,” Vivian said, and embraced Luanne tightly. “Thank you for everything.”
On the tarmac, the propellers whirred into a thunderous spin. The Air Corps captain greeted Vivian and Gene at the door of the transport aircraft. Nervousness belied his firm tone. “We’re square after this, Sully,” he said to Gene, to which Gene agreed.
Vivian was curious about the favor being repaid, but those details were currently unimportant.
The airm
an relieved them of their suitcases. After storing the luggage for transit, he went up to the cockpit. Vivian followed Gene in taking a seat on the canvas bench that ran along the wall.
“Put this on,” Gene told her over the engines. “It’ll get cold.” She wrapped herself with the Army blanket he provided. He helped her cover the gap between her shoes and the hem of her trousers before donning his own blanket.
Behind them a row of oval windows were dotted by Thursday-morning rain.
The captain reappeared after presumably speaking to the small crew, perhaps delivering an enticement for their discreet cooperation. His rank was not high enough for him to have finagled the situation without being resourceful.
“Anybody asks,” he said loudly, “you two were never on this plane.”
Gene gave a thumbs-up that all was understood.
When the officer shot a glance at Vivian, she made a show of nodding in concurrence. A so-called pleasure trip to Frankfurt would never be permitted by usual Army protocol. Although it was a harmless cargo transfer, the only civilians likely allowed on such a flight were USO performers and members of the Red Cross. Her status as neither would incur even heftier consequences if anyone was caught.
The airman gave a final reminder. “My buddy, Wes, will meet you on the other side. He’ll get you back as scheduled. You miss that flight, you’re outta luck.”
“We’ll be there,” Gene told him.
The man shook his head, as though questioning his own sanity, and disembarked without another word.
Minutes later, with all the doors clamped shut, the plane started to move. Vivian shuddered and her body stiffened. Having never flown before, she hadn’t expected so much rumbling and creaking as their speed increased.
Gene slipped his hand around hers. “Don’t worry,” he said close to her ear. “I’ve got you.”
The assertion brought back a memory: It was their first official date. He had spoken those exact words as they hung on the Parachute Jump, side by side on a canvas seat like now, dangling over Steeplechase Park.
The revelation of just how far they had come made her smile despite her fears. “I love you,” she said, too quiet for him to hear, but clearly he read her lips, and he reciprocated with a kiss. Her heart brimmed with indescribable adoration for him, for their daughter, and for the blessing of every second they had been given together.
This was the feeling Vivian took with her, long after the plane soared for hours over the Atlantic, long after the burst from engine fires had woken them both from sleep, a malfunction that sent the transport sharply down, into the waves, deep into the ocean, too far for recovery.
In that slice of an instant, before panic faded to calm and resistance gave way to surrender, she gave no thought to how their disappearance would be explained; she had no knowledge that a storm off Cape Cod would help fabricate a tragedy, a convenient covering of military tracks. Her sole concern lay with Judith. The girl would grow up without parents, and yet she would still be nurtured and cared for by family, genuine people with good hearts. Yes, she would be fine, Vivian realized–just as she herself would be, so long as Gene was there.
I’ve got you, she heard in her mind, her hand still in his, and felt sheer peace from the love that would bind them till the end of time.
69
The once serene atmosphere was now a cauldron of vivacity.
Over the farm, afternoon sunlight poured through a fine dusting of clouds. Sounds of happy children drifted on the summer air. The voices of animals periodically interjected.
It was the perfect setting for the Fourth of July.
Arms resting on the fence, Audra stood beside Tess, enjoying the commotion. Sean had saddled the donkeys, one for Jack, the other for Isabella. When the idea first came to Audra—a mild alternative to riding a standard horse—she had called Sean right away. It had taken a little persuading for the girl’s mother to agree, but now the pure smiles on the riders’ faces clearly trumped all worries.
“Mija, look over here!” the mother hollered. Isabella’s father pointed a camera toward the fenced-in area, where Carl was leading the donkeys by ropes attached to halters.
Carl was a kind man with snow-white hair and a short beard to match. Audra had barely spared him a glance during her last visit here, while she madly dashed from the hayloft to the car. A widower from down the road, he had evidently made a habit of lending a hand on the farm when needed.
“I think a certain gentleman might be looking for a date,” Audra had teased Luanne earlier, after he shot the elderly woman a wink. Cheeks awash in pink, Luanne tsked at the possibility of being courted by an eighty-two-year-old “youngster.”
“Gracie,” Tess called out, “don’t give him the whole bag!”
Kneeling in the field, Grace was feeding carrots to the goat. Orange bits flew from its voracious chomping. “But Aunt Lu told me I could!”
Tess groaned and turned to Audra. “I’m warning you now. When her teen years roll in, don’t be surprised if UPS suddenly delivers her to your house in Boston.”
“What, are you afraid she’ll grow up to be like her mother?”
“Are you kidding? That’s exactly what I’m terrified of.”
Just then, Isabella’s two brothers and Tess’s son, Cooper, broke into fits of laughter. Off by the barn, the boys were chasing the chickens in circles. The squawking birds flapped their wings, sending feathers airborne.
“Should we make them stop?” Tess asked.
Audra shrugged. “I don’t think Luanne would mind. Not for a few minutes anyway. It’ll wear the kids out.”
“Spoken like a true mother.”
Smiling, Audra returned her focus to Jack. It had been a week since he’d first slept through the night. In between, he’d suffered two separate nightmares, but they were brief and with only a fraction of his prior intensity.
“I still can’t believe you’re really leaving,” Tess said, her tone more serious now.
“I know,” Audra said. “But like I promised, I’ll send you lots and lots of beans.”
“Yeah, because that’s what our house needs.” Tess puffed a breath. “Speaking of food, I’m starving. Honey!” she yelled toward the deck, where Russ was cooking on the barbecue. “Are we getting close?”
“Ten more minutes,” he said, raising a grill spatula.
Luanne stepped through the sliding glass door and used her hands to create a megaphone. “Who out here wants some fresh-squeezed lemonade?”
The kids erupted with squeals and yells. Carl helped Jack and Isabella off their saddles, so they could join the others in a dash to the house. The group had just reached the deck when Judith appeared, wine bottle in hand. “We have chardonnay for the grown-ups,” she added.
“Now we’re talkin’,” Tess said to Audra. “You coming?”
Audra, glimpsing Sean on the far side of the barn, replied, “I think I’ll see how the setup’s going.”
It had been Sean’s suggestion to expand an hour of donkey rides into a holiday barbecue, complete with a private fireworks display—which, in Oregon, meant little more than knee-high sprays of colorful sparks, but fun all the same. Then come nightfall, she and Jack would meet her in-laws to watch a big show at a park.
“In that case,” Tess said, “take your time.” A smile curled her lips before she headed for the house.
Audra hadn’t decided how to deliver her message to Sean, as she’d barely had a chance to digest the idea herself. She made her way over, contemplating her words.
“Do you need any help?” she asked.
He turned to her. On one knee, he was arranging the mini-pyrotechnics on a large slat of plywood. “I think we’re just about set.”
Here, away from others’ ears and eyes, she sat down on one of the lawn chairs Sean had arranged for the audience. As he finished his task facing away from her, Audra’s gaze was drawn to the back of his T-shirt, his neck, the strong lines of his arms.
“So, you’re going o
n a trip this summer,” she said.
Twisting around, he smiled. “You heard already?”
“Luanne told me in the kitchen.”
He came to his feet, brushing dust from his hands. “My mom’s a little nervous. But I think it’ll be good.”
Audra was delighted he and Luanne would be accompanying Judith to Lucerne. Evidently Jakob, after his wife’s death, had revealed his past to his children, including the possibility of an American daughter. Luanne learned all of this a few days ago, when Judith worked up the nerve to contact them—perhaps encouraged by the necklace Sean had passed along, its inscription promoting great risks. As a result, Judith received an enthusiastic invitation to come meet her relatives across the sea.
The fact she had asked Luanne to join seemed a significant sign of Judith’s willingness to rebuild trust. Luanne must have recognized this, because she swiftly bought the plane tickets, paid for in part by a large tin of money that had been stored with Vivian’s belongings. If you ask me, Luanne had said to Audra, this trip is exactly what she would’ve wanted her daughter to spend it on.
Although Audra had never met Vivian, she would dare to guess that was true.
Sean took a seat in the neighboring chair. “You know, I was thinking,” he said, “on the way back from Europe, maybe I could swing through Boston. Come see you and Jack for a couple days.”
And there it was: a lead-in to the impending subject.
“Um ... yeah . . . ,” she said, hedging. “That actually wouldn’t work out.”
His brow pinched for a second before relaxing, nonchalant. “Sure, okay,” he said.
“I only say that because we won’t be in Boston.”
Now he looked puzzled. “You mean, you’re not moving?” “No, no. We’re definitely moving,” she said. “Just not as far as I’d planned.”
“Oh,” he said. “So ... where are you going?”
The Pieces We Keep Page 40
