For a crazy moment, he thought about stopping the car out on the road and sneaking up to the house to peer through a window. Just to see if they were there. To see if Birdie was all right. Her motionless body down on the road was in front of his eyes again. The dog whining and licking her face. Her eyes staying closed. Birdie was never still. Always running to meet him. Always ready to laugh at whatever he said.
His leg got stiff, and he almost lifted his foot up off the gas pedal. Almost. But he turned his eyes back to the road, mashed his foot down, and sped past. What if her bed was empty? Stopping wouldn’t change anything. Maybe it would be better to not know. To let the door crash closed completely on Rosey Corner. No need trying to shove it back open a crack.
By the time he got to Louisville, he was almost warm. He pulled in behind the first clothing store he saw to wait for the morning. His bones ached with weariness, so he grabbed the pillow and the other blanket out of the backseat and tried to find a comfortable position. He shut his eyes and wished for sleep, but it did no good. The minutes dragged by, each seeming an hour long.
He began to wish he was drunk the way Kate had thought he was. So drunk that he couldn’t feel anything. So drunk that he’d be sleeping even if the car seat was hard and his neck was in a crick.
He’d never let himself get that drunk. He had downed a few from time to time, but he’d never wanted to be the guy on the floor begging somebody to pour another drink in his mouth. He wanted to know what was happening. To be sober and ready for whatever might be coming down the road. But he’d been sober tonight and what good had it done him? Done Birdie? So why not reach for the oblivion of alcohol?
That was no real answer. He could almost hear Mike’s preacher voice telling him that. And then telling him to look for answers with the Lord. Maybe he should. Maybe he should be reaching his hand up toward heaven. A man going to war where he was only a bullet or a piece of shrapnel away from meeting his Maker.
He shut his eyes and tried to think of a prayer, but nothing was there but Kate. Kate staring at him, telling him he was drunk. Telling him to go away. Saying goodbye. What had she told him the night before? Perfect love knows no fear. Or something like that. What about anger? Did it know anger?
At last the gray light of dawn began to creep into the car with him. Out in front of the store, traffic picked up as people headed for work. Jay got out of the car and pulled on his wrinkled shirt. His ice bath the night before had done little good. The shirt was still streaked and smelly. Anybody seeing him would probably agree with Kate and think he’d been on a drinking binge. He blew out a tired breath. He didn’t care what anybody thought. At least nobody he hadn’t left behind in Rosey Corner.
The sky was overcast and the air was frigid. It seemed right that the sun was hiding. He hoped it wouldn’t start snowing. He couldn’t bear snowflakes falling down around him this morning. They’d pull up too many memories. Memories he was going to have to put behind him.
The storekeeper gave Jay a hard look when he arrived to open up, but when Jay explained he was looking to buy something new before he went to sign up for the Army, the man’s frown faded away.
“Well, come on in and we’ll get you fixed right up.” The round little man led the way in through the back door of the store, where he yanked his fingers free of his gloves, shrugged off his overcoat, and took off the brown felt hat. He smoothed down his gray streaked hair before he unhooked a tape measure from a nail beside the coatrack and draped it around his neck. Its metal ends bounced against his knees as he made his way around boxes in the back room to plug in a hot plate.
“How about a little tea? If you’re a coffee drinker, I must apologize since I don’t keep coffee in the place.” His eyes narrowed on Jay again. “Or perhaps you’re wishing for something a wee bit stronger.”
“I’m not a drunk,” Jay said. “Even if I look like it.”
“You do appear a little worse for the wear,” the man said mildly. “But I wasn’t accusing you of being inebriated. Only of being chilled from the cold. A splash of the spirits might warm you a bit more than the tea can do.”
“Tea’s fine.” Jay looked down, embarrassed that he’d felt the need to deny being drunk.
“You’re welcome to clean up a little in the water closet over there while the water’s heating.” The man nodded his head toward a narrow door across from them. “If you want, I can get you a pair of trousers and a shirt to change into. I’m thinking you might be looking for something economical. Am I right about that?” The man waited for Jay’s answer.
“As economical as you have.” Jay doubted the shopkeeper ever let the word “cheap” cross his lips. “I won’t need them after I’m in the Army.”
“An awful thing. Pearl Harbor.” The man shook his head. “Nothing for it but to go to war. Again. We thought we’d taken care of those Germans when we were over there before.”
“It was Japan that bombed Pearl Harbor,” Jay said.
“True enough. We’ll be rushing men to the Pacific to quell the Japanese threat, but we’ll be fighting over there against the Germans too. Merely a matter of time.” The man clicked his tongue. “But war talk isn’t getting your new clothes.” The shopkeeper eyeballed him again. “I don’t think I need to measure. Give me a minute.”
Jay felt like a new person on the outside by the time he left Mr. Traxler’s store and headed his car down the street. The shopkeeper had told him where he might rent a room for a couple of days. A place with a bath. He was a lot warmer in his new coat. His old clothes were in a sack, along with a couple of pairs of socks Mr. Traxler had added to his purchases for no extra charge.
“I was over there in 1917. A soldier can’t have too many socks,” he told Jay. “If you do get shipped out, you keep in mind the need to take care of your feet first and foremost. A soldier needs his wits about him and his feet in good working order.”
But while Jay felt better on the outside, the inside was still a mess. The Army wouldn’t care. Not as long as he would sign up to fight.
A snowflake hit his windshield and then another. Fat, fluffy flakes like the ones that had fallen around him and Kate in the Franklins’ field. Jay turned on his windshield wipers and swept them away.
29
Through the dark of the night, Kate sat beside Lorena’s bed and listened to the girl’s breathing. In and out. Easy and regular. That was what Aunt Hattie had told them to watch. But as hard as she tried to focus her mind entirely on Lorena and nothing else, Jay was there. Asking her to trust him. But how could she trust a drunk?
Even so, maybe her mother was right. Maybe she should have let him come in. He did love Lorena. She didn’t think that was a lie. His words saying he loved her—I love you, Kate Merritt—echoed in her head. She even believed that was true as much as he knew how to love. Wasn’t that what Mike had told her right at the beginning? That Jay didn’t know how to love.
Then again, maybe it was Kate who didn’t know how to love. The night seemed to darken around her with the thought. She pushed it away. She knew love. She was surrounded by love. Lorena in the bed in front of her. Tori breathing softly in the bed behind her. Her mother and father in their bedroom on the other side of the sitting room. Love was in every room of this house and radiated out to others in Rosey Corner. Graham. Aunt Hattie. Evie and Mike. She knew love well.
But a little voice whispered through her mind. What about the romantic, music-in-your-heart kind of love? Do you know that?
She did know it. She’d danced in the moonlight. And again with snow falling on her face. Even in the cold December wind with the thought of bombs falling on Pearl Harbor to destroy their peace, they’d danced. Jay’s arms had felt warm and right around her. But now the dances were over. She’d slammed the door on the music. The terrible silence in her heart matched the darkness in the room. Then an echo of music came to her. Distant and very sad.
The clock began striking in the next room and Kate counted along. Twelve. The midnight hou
r. The end of the day. Who knew what the day ahead would bring? This time two days ago, they had no thought that now they’d be at war. She had no thought that she’d be sitting in the dark, wishing a hundred things different.
She tried to wipe thoughts of Jay out of her mind. She whispered another prayer thanking the Lord for Lorena’s soft, normal breaths. She matched her own breathing to Lorena’s. The night would pass, and it could have been so much worse. Lorena could have been badly hurt. Broken hearts were better than broken bodies. Even so, she was glad when the lamp switched on in the next room and her mother came into the bedroom.
“I’ll sit with her for a while,” Mama whispered. She gazed down at Lorena. “How’s she doing?”
“She hasn’t stirred. Breathing easy.” Kate stood up out of the straight chair she’d pulled over by the bed. She and her mother touched shoulders as they looked down at Lorena. It had always been that way. Both of them watching over Lorena ever since Kate had found her on the church steps. “She seems fine.”
“She may be sore in the morning.” Mama was silent a moment as she lightly placed her hand on the girl’s chest to feel her breathing. “But I think you’re right. She’s fine. Thank the Lord.” She closed her eyes, and Kate knew she was offering up a silent prayer before she went on. “I don’t think we need to sit with her the rest of the night. If she cries out, we’ll hear her.”
“I’ll sleep with her,” Kate said. “That way I’ll be close if she needs anything.”
Her mother touched her fingers to her lips and then swept them across Lorena’s cheek. She turned to look at Kate in the dim light filtering in from the next room. “She’s going to be all right, Kate.”
“I know.”
Her mother moved her face closer to Kate’s until they were only inches apart. “You will be all right too.”
“I know,” Kate repeated.
“Do you?” Her mother studied her face a few seconds before she wrapped her arms around her. She whispered close to her ear, “Don’t give up on love too easily, my darling. Maybe there was a reason.”
“He said I had to trust him,” Kate whispered back.
“I guess you are the one who has to decide if you can.” Her mother kissed her cheek and then stepped back.
“Did you?” Kate asked.
Mama pulled in a breath and let it out slowly. “You’re asking if I trusted your father.”
It wasn’t really a question, but Kate answered anyway. “Yes.”
“My heart did when it mattered most. My heart knew.” She put her hand on Kate’s cheek. “Yours will too.”
Kate didn’t say anything. All the trust had drained out of her heart at the stink of alcohol on Jay. Her fractured heart.
Her mother must have guessed what she was thinking. She sighed softly. “My sensible Kate. But sometimes the heart refuses to be sensible.” The ghost of a smile touched her lips as she dropped her hand away from Kate’s face. “Try to get some sleep. Morning will be here soon. Everything always looks better after the sun chases the darkness away.”
Her mother slipped out of the room, clicked off the lamp next to the couch, and disappeared back into her bedroom. Kate eased into the bed beside Lorena and rested her hand on the little girl’s stomach so she could feel her breathing. Trouble shifted positions under the bed, his toenails clattering against the wood floor. Maybe they should change the dog’s name. Start over with him.
That’s what she should do too. Start over with everything. The country was going to have to start doing everything different. They were at war. One woman’s broken heart meant nothing in the face of that.
All day long at the store, people had come in full of talk about the changes that might come. The shortages. The men gone. Nobody to do the jobs. The older men were full of dire warnings of hard times here on the home front as well as on the front lines. Some of them had been on those front lines back in 1917. The younger men talked of nothing but signing up. The women just looked at one another with fearful eyes. With all that trouble barreling toward them, what did sorrows of the heart matter?
She shut her eyes, but her jumbled thoughts gave her no rest. She ordered herself to be sensible the way her mother said she was and go to sleep. What good did it do to stare into the air above the bed until she began to imagine misshapen faces forming in the grainy darkness?
What had she told Jay? That perfect love knew no fear. Why in the world had she quoted Scripture at him? Besides, that was the Lord’s perfect love. Nothing she could ever claim any more than he could. Why couldn’t she have simply told him she loved him? In her imperfect way. The way he had simply told her. When he was drunk.
Lorena shifted beside her and groaned softly. Kate stroked the child’s hair and whispered to her that it was all right. So many times she’d told Lorena that. So many times her mother had told Kate that. It’s going to be all right. But was it? How could any of them be sure it was going to be all right now?
Aunt Hattie’s voice came into her head. “Nobody can know what tomorrow holds, Katherine Reece. You just has to hold onto the good Lord’s hand and take it one step at a time whilst you keep on trusting in his providence.”
She didn’t know whether she had ever heard Aunt Hattie actually speak those exact words, but she had no doubt that was what she would say if she were there standing by the bed, preaching faith to her. Aunt Hattie had faith. The kind to move mountains. No matter what life threw at her, Aunt Hattie didn’t let doubts sprout in her head. Weren’t no need, Kate had heard her say. No need at all. The Lord had gotten her through plenty of bad times. Plenty of them. And there weren’t nothing out of the ordinary about her, she’d say. If the good Lord was taking care of her, and he was, then for sure he’d take care of other folks too. She’d remind Kate that the good Lord had shined down extra grace on Kate and her sisters. Blessed in every way.
At first light, Kate eased out of the bed. Lorena slept on with no sign of distress, but when she did open her eyes, she’d be sure to ask about Tanner first thing. She’d be unhappy if Kate hadn’t kept her promise. She barely made any noise at all getting dressed, but Tori stirred and opened her eyes.
She rose up on her elbow to ask, “Where are you going so early?”
“I promised Lorena I’d let Jay know she was all right before he went to work.” Kate ran a comb through her hair.
“I thought he said he was going to enlist today.”
Kate’s heart grew heavy at Tori’s words. “Then I guess I need to catch him before he leaves to do that.”
“Sammy’s talking about getting his folks to sign for him so he can join up.”
“Surely they won’t. At least not until he gets out of school.” Kate kept her voice low.
“I don’t know.” Tori stared down at the covers for a minute. “But it scares me. It all scares me. Jay going. Daddy even said Mike might have to go. And Sammy too, whether he signs up now or not.”
“Make him wait, Tori.” Kate looked over at her. “It might be over before he gets old enough to be drafted.”
“It won’t be. Everybody says it won’t be.” Tori breathed out a long sigh. “And I’m not like you, Kate. I can’t make things happen. If he wants to go next month or next week, I won’t be able to stop him.”
Kate tiptoed over to sit on the bed beside Tori and take her hand. “He hasn’t gone yet.”
Tori grasped Kate’s hand tightly. “But if he does, I’m going to marry him first. Whether Mama and Daddy say I should or not.”
“They won’t try to stop you. They’ll understand.”
“Do you understand, Kate? Do you love Jay the way I love Sammy?” Tori’s green eyes were dark and intense as she looked at Kate.
Tori’s question surprised her. She didn’t know how to answer her, but she finally said, “It’s different for me. I haven’t known Jay very long. Not like you know Sammy or Evie knows Mike.”
“Love can happen quick,” Tori insisted. “You do love him. I know because I know you.”<
br />
Kate looked down at their clasped hands. “There are things you don’t know.”
“Maybe so.” Tori gave her hand a little shake. “But I know this. I know if you do really love him the way I think you do, then you need to give him a chance to fix things.”
“Some things can’t be fixed,” Kate murmured.
“Not if you don’t try. I’ve never known you not to try.”
Kate pulled her hand free from Tori. “You worry about Sammy and let me worry about Jay.” She kept her voice low, but she couldn’t keep out the hint of irritation.
“It’s you I’m worrying about,” Tori said with an echo of Kate’s irritation. “Not Jay. You.”
“I’m fine.” Kate pushed a smile out on her face. “You watch out for Lorena until I get back. I’ll tell Mama I’m leaving. I hear her in the kitchen.”
Kate was glad her mother was content to know Lorena was sleeping. She didn’t ask questions about where she was going when Kate pulled on her coat. She knew.
The morning was gray. Cold hung in the air like invisible ice particles. The sun wouldn’t be showing its face even after it did push up above the eastern horizon, with the way the clouds looked ready to drop snow down on them. She pushed the thought of snow away from her mind. It would be better not to think about days when the music had been loud.
Her heart began pounding before she got halfway to Graham’s. She had no idea what she could say. Maybe he wouldn’t be up. Maybe he would still be sleeping it off. That might be good. She could tell Graham that Lorena was all right and let him deliver the message to Jay.
Some of this mess was Graham’s fault anyway—talking Jay into staying to help him paint Mrs. Harrelson’s house. Whatever had possessed him to do that? Whatever had possessed her to fall in love with Jay?
I love you, Kate Merritt. Would those words keep echoing in her head forever?
His car wasn’t in its usual place. Kate’s heart began pounding even harder. She looked to where the sky was brightening a bit as the sun pushed up behind the clouds in the east. She had never imagined him leaving this early for work. Or to enlist.
Small Town Girl Page 28
