The news from home is no different. Mother’s condition is about the same. Thank you for going by to see them. Well, you know where to write me now, so please write soon.
With best regards,
Bill
***
“Wow. That is great news, Mother,” Stuart remarked. “Hope he won’t want to visit while we are on the East Coast.”
“I need to write him a note.” Aunt Doreen said just as the telephone rang. Stuart answered it.
“Mother, it’s Dad,” he called. Aunt Doreen hurried to the hallway. Dena followed. She needed to answer her letters.
***
May 4, 1940
“All the book learning would probably be useless without hands on knowledge,” Clay said as he explained the techniques of taking off and landing, but she still wasn’t sure. She tried not to show how fearful she felt. Why did I say I would do this? Dena kept an eye on the ground. It was coming up much too fast. Shutting her eyes, she reminded herself to breathe deep and exhale slowly. She did. And she prayed, The LORD on my side. I will not fear. What can man do unto me? Not really sure where that scripture came from or if she even remembered it correctly, Dena exhaled warily. She considered the after effect of her having to learn scripture as a child. It was assuring. She recalled her Mother had told her that in a time of need scriptures would be automatically remembered. She silently nodded to herself, well, they are.
Clay touched the ground and took off again. As they circled high above the field, Dena willed herself to peer out the window. Then she glanced at him. Her eyes sparkled. Why was I ever afraid? She studied the instrument panel and looked at the throttle. The cabin was just like the diagram in her aeronautics class.
After a second descent and take off she settled into her seat and looked out her window. The ground wasn’t coming up to meet her as she had expected, but the earth looked like a movie screen with different scenes passing by her window. “Oh” she spoke just above a whisper.
“No wonder children easily believe in fantasy—the beauty of the earth with its imposing colors and patchwork quilt pattern. It’s beautiful.” Clay grinned. “And this is getting real close to fantasy or make believe, don’t you think, Dena?”
She could only nod too spellbound to speak. She turned and craned her neck to see out the other side. The clouds also amazed her. From the ground looking up they seemed smaller. Up here they enveloped her like a large downy pillow. She sighed.
Eyeing her, Clay chuckled before he continued. “You know what I love about flying the most? The freedom.”
She agreed. The clouds did make one feel free. Clay pointed out different sights on the ground. She then saw the terminal off in the distance. She looked at Clay. He laughed and circled the runway. She felt a shift in the plane and once again Clay made a perfect landing. Too quickly, their ride was over.
Lunch was anti-climactic compared to the flight. Dena ordered the sole and salad. It was delicious. And, the rolls were tasty—but not as good as her mother’s. But nothing could compare to her first flight. She smiled at Clay. He reached across the small table and squeezed her hand. He understood.
***
May 28, 1940
Colorado
Dena stared out the window watching for her dad. Clay stood just behind her, leaning over her shoulder. The train released steam, jerking to a stop, causing Dena to fall backward. Clay quickly reached out and caught her. He grinned, giving her a quick hug, helping her to regain her balance before turning her around to face him. He reached above her to pull down a bag, allowing his lips to caress her cheek. Blushing, Dena quickly glanced around. No one looked their way. Everyone was getting ready to leave the train.
“I’m really glad you’re here,” she murmured.
“Me too,” he said, fidgeting. “But, meeting your family frightens me. I think I would rather be in an airplane fighting the Germans.”
“Truthfully?” she teased. Clay nodded.
“Brock’s the only one who knows anything about you. My parents will assume you’re a friend like Carl and Floyd. And Susan’s in her own world this week.”
“As for Stuart,” she went on, “he may have figured it out. Emily I can’t tell. Aunt Doreen knows, although she hasn’t said anything. I’m not sure about Uncle Walter.”
Again Clay nodded. His eyes strayed over her shoulder.
Dena wasn’t certain if he had heard her or if he believed her.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” she asked, looking into his face. Clay didn’t look all right even though he gave a positive nod.
“Hey, are you coming?” Carl asked, grinning. “Need help, old man?” Dena chuckled. Old man indeed; Carl is older by two years. Clay playfully shoved a small suitcase into Carl’s stomach. Carl doubled up and let out an exaggerated groan. The tension in Clay’s face disappeared. When Clay picked up his suitcase, he managed to brush against her arm. Dena backed up to give him room. She knew to an onlooker it would have seemed a natural. Only her eyes gave her away. As they both turned to leave, Clay took hold of her elbow escorting her out. After all, it was the proper thing to do. Carl walked in front of her, and Floyd waited at the end of the car with his suitcase.
Stopping at the top of the steps, Dena searched for her dad. She saw Stuart, Mary, and Emily walking just ahead of them. Floyd sauntered over to Emily while Clay and Carl stepped onto the platform and waited. Slowly she followed. She was still trying to locate her dad.
“Hey, Dena, what is it with you and train schedules?” Brock teased, hurrying over to hug her. He stepped back, holding her at arm’s length. Dena laughed. Finally he released her and stepped back to check out the two men with her. At that moment, she had some of the most important people around her.“And hello to you too, dear brother.” She took Brock’s hand. “Brock, this is Carl and Clay. Guys, this is my brother.” She grinned happily. She watched Brock and Clay examine each other. It’s like they are sizing each other up for a fight. Dena wasn’t sure she liked the idea of having someone fight over her.
“Who are all these people you brought with you?” Brock leaned over and whispered as he squeezed in between Carl and her and slid his arm around her shoulder.
“Well, you remember Aunt Doreen?” He nodded. Dena continued to point out the different faces, giving a small tidbit about each. After all, nine people had come with her. He struggled, putting names with faces. As she walked toward the mounds of luggage and Stuart’s photography equipment, Dena was glad that Dad and Grant had brought enough vehicles to carry everything home. Finally they located her dad. Dena squealed and ran into her dad’s hug. Hug he did.
“Welcome home, girl,” Dad whispered hoarsely, holding her tightly for a long moment.
If I didn’t know better, I would think there are tears in Dad’s eyes. Maybe the tears are in mine, she sighed. I didn’t think I had missed my dad so much.
“You okay girl?” Dad asked looking down at her. Dena lowered her eyes nodding. He squeezed her again. She glanced happily over her dad’s shoulder at Clay.
“Dad, come. I want you to meet my friends,” she said simply. She guided her dad to two of her visitors. “Dad this is Carl and Clay. They’re engineers who work with Uncle Walter.
In fact, they are going with Virginia with Uncle Walter and Aunt Doreen after the wedding.” She smiled at Clay. “Carl, Clay, this is my dad, Lawrence Caulter.”
Her dad stepped forward and solemnly shook each young man’s hand and cordially welcomed them to Colorado and his home. Next Dena turned her dad’s attention away from Clay, by pointing out Stuart, Emily, Floyd, and Mary who were standing by Aunt Doreen. Dena moved next to Clay as her dad walked over to his sister. Aunt Doreen smiled.
“Hello Doreen,” Dena heard her dad say, hugging his sister. “Glad you’re here.”
The hubbub kept Dena on her toes as she tried to listen to what everyone was saying. Baggage for Colorado was collected and loaded on the vehicles while Uncle Walter had several
trunks and luggage sent on to Virginia with instructions to hold for pick up.
Aunt Doreen and Dena had counted her luggage. She didn’t want any of it going to Virginia. Finally her dad said, “Let’s go home.”
Happily Dena found herself sitting between her dad and Clay. Her dad asked Clay about his work and said all he knew was what Walter had told him. Smiling, Dena listened to them talk. She kept an eye on the cars in front of her dad’s old truck. It’s like a caravan.
***
The next morning, Brock found Dena sitting alone in the garden which was tucked away in a corner hidden from everyone. It’s funny, only Brock would look for me here in my secluded place. She sat in a large arch her dad had constructed for her mother many years before. It held a small table and two chairs. The overgrowth now hid away the small area. It was the perfect hideaway.
“Hey, Sis,” he said. “I like your friend Clay. He’s really nice. And so is Carl. Are he and Floyd engineers also? I know that Clay is.” A happy look crossed his face. “You have good friends.”
“Thank you.” She smiled, and then she admitted, “I like Clay too, very much.”
“Well, you have my approval, you know.” He smiled at his sister. “But Mother and Dad might not agree.”
She gave him her special girl look. Brock laughed out loud. “What will everyone do for the next few days?”
Dena outlined some activities, “There’s the Royal Gorge, horseback riding, mountain hiking …”
“Are you serious? These guys probably don’t even know what a horse is.” Her brother interrupted. It was Dena’s turn to laugh. She considered her brother’s observation silly. Of course they know what a horse is. Wouldn’t they? Brock watched the continuous change in the garden. The ladies of the church came and went with large kettles and bowls laden with food to help their mother feed the growing crowd. Dena hadn’t thought about the food situation until now. But Mother, even with Aunt Doreen and Polly’s help, spent most of her time at the stove. Then Brock spoke solemnly, “You know, within three days, our world will change. Grant will officially become our brother.”
“I know.” Dena pulled her brother down to hug his neck. “But we’ll always be family no matter who joins it. A year ago I’m not sure I would have believed it—you know, best friends—family.” Brock nodded.
“By the way, your gift to Grant and Susan was super. I don’t think I would’ve thought of matching robes.” Brock smiled.
“Aunt Doreen suggested it as personal yet generic gift. What did you get them?”
“A month’s worth of dinners at Ryes,” he answered simply. “Anne gave me the idea.”
“Why, Brock, how thoughtful—I wouldn’t have considered it.” Dena studied her brother’s face. His insight caused her to pause. “This Anne must be pretty special.”
“As special as Clay is to you, I expect.” He flushed at his sister’s compliment.
“There’s Mother. Let’s go help her.” Dena said. She and Brock walked over to help set up some chairs. Clay and Carl were busy helping Uncle Walter place benches near the house which would be set up the morning of the wedding. Clay looked up and winked at her.
“Did you come to rescue us, Dena?” Carl asked joking.
“Gosh, you look so good doing manual labor I’m not sure I would want to break the spell,” Dena answered.
“Ouch.” Floyd laughed.
“I believe she has you there, Carl.” Uncle Walter said, wiping his brow with a large blue handkerchief.
“How about helping us then?” asked Carl. “You are good at arranging furniture.”
“Unn-Uh. Can’t.” Feeling rather smug, Dena disappeared into the kitchen but returned immediately with refreshments for everyone.
Chapter Seventeen
Early the next morning, Brock and Grant gathered everyone for the trip to the Royal Gorge. Dena was glad for the opportunity to have them go. She wanted Clay to see some of the beauty of Colorado—her home.
“Dena, are you coming with us?” Clay asked. Dena straightened up from the task she was doing and slipped her hands to her lower back, stretching. “Can’t. I wished I could, but I have to have the final fitting on my dress today.”
“Well then, it’s just us guys. See you later, Sis.” Brock chuckled. Turning, he headed for the car. She stood in silence until the last car disappeared. Emily slipped her arm around Dena’s waist, strolling back to the house.
“Oh Mother!” Dena could hear a sob in Susan’s voice as she entered the bedroom with Emily at her heels. Susan sat on the bed holding yards of tulle. Dena stood inside the door watching the scene unfold. What’s wrong? Susan’s voice wavered, “Oh, Mother.”
“Let’s see how it looks with your hair and dress, dear,” Mother said without blinking. She secured the veil and spread it out over Susan’s shoulders. Dena couldn’t believe how exquisite it looked with their mother’s wedding dress. Aunt Doreen stooped down to straighten the yards of tulle. Then her aunt stepped back and smiled her glassy fixed smile.
“Susan, it’s beautiful. It accentuates the dress perfectly. My mother would have loved seeing you wear it,” Aunt Doreen admitted, coming around behind Dena, rearranging the floor-length veil. It’s like at Thanksgiving when Aunt Doreen kept re-setting the dinner plates. Then Aunt Doreen asked, “What do you think, Dena? Emily?” She reached down to smooth out a last wrinkle.
Her mother looked at the girls. Her eyes glistened and her mouth quivered at the corners. She was losing her youngest daughter tomorrow. As hard as she tried, Dena couldn’t really understand her mother’s feelings.
“It’s lovely,” Emily said. She walked over and touched the delicate material. “And what an honor for you to be the first to wear Grandmother’s wedding veil. I can’t wait until I can wear it.”
Standing next to Emily, Dena nodded. Not totally sure she wanted to wear the veil though. “You are lovely, Susan. Not a bride in the whole county could match your beauty.”
Sobbing, Susan hugged her sister. Dena pulled back and studied her face, wiping away a stray tear.
“See Susan,” Dena said as she turned her sister to look in the floor-length mirror, “not another girl in the whole county.”
“Now I believe it’s time for you to get your dresses fitted,” said the seamstress. Dena hadn’t realized anyone else was in the room other than family. She recognized the small gray haired woman to be Mrs. Beleman from up the road. She had always helped Mother with the sewing.
“Oh, Betty, I feel badly that you had to wait for us to dab our eyes. Of course, Dena, Emily, try on your dresses.” Mother wiped her eyes with the corner of her apron.
Aunt Doreen picked up one of the dresses. “Is this Emily’s dress, Betty?”
Mrs. Beleman nodded. Dena unbuttoned her dress and allowed it to drop to the floor in a puddle before she slipped into the second blue taffeta. She had to admit Susan was right. The dresses were striking. Each dress was trimmed with a delicate blue and white tatted lace, which also trimmed the wide brimmed hats that were accented by cascading blue ribbon. The small tatted lace gloves finished off the wedding attire. As Dena looked at her image in the mirror, she was impressed. Though, I didn’t think I would ever be wearing blue. She tried to stay away from blue because it was Susan’s color.
“Oh Dena,” Emily whispered. Her mirrored image appeared behind Dena’s likeness. Dena nodded in slight awe. This dress equally matched if not surpassed the elegance of the black dress she wore at the Winter Ball.
“Now let me see.” Mrs. Beleman said as she pulled and tugged on the waistline. Dena stood still. She wondered if Clay would like this color on her. Dena looked into the mirror again. It really shows off my dark green eyes and face. She ran her hand down the length of her hair. And my blonde hair shines. Even though Dena was impatient with fittings, the day passed quickly.
Dena couldn’t wait for the guys to come back from the Royal Gorge. It was late afternoon before they arrived. She
hurried into the yard, glancing quickly around, hoping no one saw how anxious she was. Willing herself to relax, she heaved a sigh. No one was watching.
“Look.” Floyd got out of the car, trying to explain something. “Chamberlain has resigned, and Churchill has taken over. Surely Britain will be able to hold her own against Germany.”
“I agree,” Carl said. “I heard that the British civilian and naval crafts have rescued the allied soldiers from Belgium. In fact…”
“What was the figure, Carl?” Brock broke in. “I know it was huge.”
“About four hundred thousand I think,” Carl answered. Floyd emitted a short, low whistle. Dena stopped. Everyone listened intently, including her dad. Clay too, listened. Her lower lip protruded as she grimaced, War talk, always war talk.
“Hey, Sis,” Brock called as he ambled over and gave her quick hug. Slightly smiling, she glanced over his shoulder. Clay smiled.
“Dinner is ready.” She emphasized each word probably more firmly than she should have. But before turning to walk back to the house, Clay managed to get into step with her.
After desserts of various pies and cakes were served, her dad challenged the men to a domino competition. He stated that there were plenty of guys to make it interesting. Glancing at Clay, Dena chuckled. She knew her dad was in his own element. Dominos was his game.
“Look out everyone,” Brock declared, amused, “Dad’s the county champion.” Dena raised her eyebrow at Clay, nodding.
“I don’t know, Mr. Caulter,” Carl drawled, rubbing his chin. “We college men are really good at numbers.”
Dena watched her dad nod in mock solemnity. But, he had that knowing glint in his eyes. The challenge was official. Tables were cleared, and dominos took the place of dishes. Dena hadn’t actually counted how many men were present. Now she noticed there was enough for two teams. Dena dried each plate slowly and carefully, listening. Whoops, moans, and groans came from the living room. She couldn’t see them since the two rooms were built in an L-shape, yet she smiled. Clay had been so afraid of meeting her family. Now, he fit in perfectly.
A Matter Of Trust Page 22
