Desiring to keep the conversation civil, Grace nudged it in a different direction. She asked Paul about his training at Harvard and his next assignment. He answered her questions but seemed distracted and annoyed.
"I get out of Boston in another six weeks. Then I'm off to San Diego for a month and finally Ford Island. I'll help manage the supply depots at Pearl Harbor."
"I'm proud of you. I always have been. I want you to know that."
"Then let me make you prouder. Give me another shot," Paul said, grabbing both of her hands and pulling them across the table. "Let me be the husband you know I can be. We can still have a great life, Grace, if only you give us the chance."
He repeated the pitch in various ways over the next ten minutes. When the hard sell did not work, he tried the soft. When that gained no traction, he appealed to logic.
For a minute, Grace considered his offer. Sticking with Paul made sense. She would have security for life, the respect of her peers, and total devotion from a man who would make not only a good husband but also a good father. But she would not have the one thing she desired most: the man she loved.
Grace slid her engagement ring off her finger, placed it in Paul's palm, and closed his hand. Putting a few fingers to his face, she looked at him like a friend and not a lover.
"Are you going to be all right?"
"I'm a tough guy. I can handle it."
"OK."
Grace put two dollars next to her untouched salad, gathered her purse, and pushed in her chair. She walked around the table and gave Paul a light kiss on the cheek.
"Goodbye, Paul."
Walking past a puzzled waitress and a suddenly interested elderly couple, Grace navigated a maze of unoccupied tables to a latched gate that led to the parking lot. She glanced back at her one-time fiancé and saw a man with his face in his hands. She opened the gate and left to the sound of sobs.
CHAPTER 48
The knock on the door stirred Joel from his best sleep in days and his best dream since Jana and Smiling Sarah had fought over his beach towel on Maui. Had he slept in and missed work? He peered out a window but did not see Mel Carter tapping his feet. Nor did he see Sandy Carter with an armful of laundry or Tom Carter with a mischievous grin. Instead he saw someone he had not seen in three weeks, someone who had once spanked him for feeding her prized apple butter to his dog.
Joel threw on some clothes and rushed to the door. The hands on a wind-up alarm clock near the sink indicated that it was nine o'clock.
"Ginny."
"I'm sorry to bother you, Joel. I know this is your day off. But I wanted to talk to you and maybe see how the other half lived."
"Come on in."
He opened the door and welcomed her into his castle. Dressed in a blue two-piece suit, Ginny looked like a million bucks, a woman out to conquer the world. She stood out from the trailer trash in ratty shorts, a wife-beater tee, and a hairy face better suited for the Woodland Park Zoo.
Ginny took a seat behind the small dining table, while Joel ran a comb through his hair, put on a button-down shirt, and tried to elevate his appearance by at least one social level, if not two, in front of a mirror. She visually inspected the trailer and smiled at the sight of a rumpled, hooded sweatshirt draped on the opposite bench.
"I see your taste in clothing runs toward the progressive. I'm guessing that Candy is not something I would find at the five-and-dime."
Joel whipped back his head, cringed, and grabbed the grunge band shirt before it elicited additional social commentary.
"That's just something I bought last year to keep warm on a camping trip. I didn't pay much attention to the image on the front."
"Obviously."
"Can I get you anything? I can run in the house and make some coffee."
"Oh, no. I'm fine. I have to be at the Sun by noon. I just wanted to see how you are doing. I haven't seen much of you this summer and decided it was time for a visit." She pulled a pack of cigarettes from her purse but put it back when Joel tilted his head and raised his eyebrows. "Do you like living in this?"
"It's not bad. In fact, it's pretty nice, for a trailer. I have everything I need and the run of the house when I want food or a shower or the washing machine."
"Tom said you two are planning to move into an apartment after Labor Day."
"That's the plan. He has his eyes on a place already, though I haven't seen it."
Ginny lifted her bottom off the bench, straightened her skirt, and again settled in behind the table. She twitched her nose at the not-so-faint aroma of perspiration and dirty socks and cracked the window at her side.
"Sorry for the mess and the smell. I don't entertain much."
"That's all right. I didn't come here to talk about your housekeeping."
"That's a relief," he said with a grin.
"I did, however, want to talk to you about Grace. I know you'll see her later today, on your walk, but I wanted to get to you first."
"Is she OK? I haven't talked to her since Sunday."
"She's fine. She's still a little rattled from her meeting with Paul, but she's fine. I'm sure she gave you the highlights. She returned his ring. They're finished," Ginny said. "I can't say I agree with what's she's done, but I know she hasn't had any second thoughts."
"Oh."
"Joel, I came here because I care about Grace deeply. I don't want to see her get hurt. She may not have parents to look out for her anymore, but she has a big sister. She made a very important decision on Saturday, and she did it because of you."
"I love her. You do know that."
"I do. I can't blame you either. She is the nicest person I have ever known, one of the smartest, and by far the most beautiful. I often joke that her parents rolled a seven on conception night. You can't buy those looks in a salon. It's a shame they can't see her now. I'd love to have a daughter like Grace someday."
Give yourself time.
Joel began to speak but paused to accommodate a noisy garbage truck that had stopped in the alley to pick up the Carters' weekly discards. He looked at the dirty shirt on the floor, laughed to himself, and wondered how Candy in Chains had made the cut.
"I feel bad about all this," Joel said. "I've been a bull in a china shop since coming here. But I couldn't let her go. I had to fight for her. Can you understand?"
"I can. But now that you've won her, you should know more about her."
"Did I miss something?"
"I doubt anything vitally important," Ginny said. "Grace is mostly as she appears: kind, moody, unpredictable, and more than a little naïve. But she has been through a lot, more than some people in a lifetime, and I don't know how much she has shared with you. She can be fiercely guarded about her past."
"I know how her parents died."
"I know. But I doubt you know the whole story."
Joel looked at his guest with renewed interest.
"Continue."
"The Vandenbergs didn't just go out for a stroll that night. Grace sent them out. She had an upset stomach and insisted that someone get something for it. She wanted ginger ale and wanted it right away. According to her aunt, she threw quite a fit. Neither of her parents had a driver's license, so they went out in the rain and walked six blocks to a place that was still open. The drunk driver struck them on their way back. In Grace's mind, she sent them to their deaths."
Joel closed his eyes and put a hand to his forehead. So much made sense now.
"As you can imagine, she was a mess," Ginny said. "When I first met her, as her roommate in the freshman dorm, Grace could barely function. She was utterly consumed by grief and guilt. At least once a week, she'd cry herself to sleep or call out for her mother in the middle of the night. And even when she didn't, she'd get up early in the morning, eat breakfast alone, and hole up with books the rest of the day. This went on for months. She kept to herself most of the time, even with me. I don't think she went to a single dance or party until late in the spring."
"Did Grace ope
n up when she joined the sorority?"
"She did, a little. The sisters forced her to have fun. You can't remain a hermit for long in a place like Kappa Delta Alpha."
"She's not that way now."
"No. She's not. She began to change our sophomore year. She had a boyfriend who had a great sense of humor and lavished a lot of attention on her."
"So what happened to him?"
"He ran off with a girl who lavished more attention on him."
Joel suddenly felt anger toward anyone who had wronged Grace Vandenberg.
"I'll bet that messed her up."
"It did, for a few months. But then Paul came along and set her straight. Then you popped in the picture and really worked wonders. Despite what you may think, you have had a positive influence on my friend. She's a different person."
"How's that?"
"She's happy, she's strong, she's confident," Ginny said. "She's doing things she would have never done even a year ago, like hauling you off to Mount Rainier. When I heard about that, I had to throw out everything I thought I knew about Grace. There is no way the girl I've known for three years would have pulled a stunt like that. But she did."
Joel smiled.
"Yeah, she did."
Ginny put a hand on his forearm and looked him in the eyes.
"That's the point, though, and that's what you should remember, if you want a happy future with her. She may never be someone you can read or understand. She may never be someone anyone can understand. But she will always be worth the effort and the wait. Beneath that delicate exterior is a strong, resolute woman who does nothing halfway. Never take her for granted and never underestimate her. She will amaze."
"Message received," he said, impressed as much with the preacher as the sermon.
"Good. That brings me to the other thing I wanted to talk to you about."
"What's that?"
"Labor Day weekend. Tom and I have access to my family's beach house on the Oregon coast. Normally there's a crowd but not this year. My cousin in Seaside said she would clean the place up and have it ready by Saturday morning."
"That's nice. Have a great time."
"You don't understand. We want you and Grace to come along. I think it would be a wonderful opportunity for you two to get to know each other, away from campus."
"I don't know. We're not exactly at that stage in our relationship, if that's what you call a ballgame, four movies, eight walks, and a hostage situation."
"Joel, I'm not suggesting anything more than a weekend at the coast."
"You don't have to twist my arm. I just don't want to put Grace in a spot where she feels pressure to do something she doesn’t want to do. She's had a rough month."
"I agree. That is why I made the same offer to her this morning."
"You did?"
"I did."
"What did she say?"
"She didn't say a thing."
"Nothing?"
"Nothing."
Ginny smiled.
"She just walked to her room and started packing."
CHAPTER 49
Seaside, Oregon – Saturday, August 30, 1941
He executed the spins like a pro, as well as the tosses and the footwork, and hit the floor for every song from "Sing, Sing, Sing" to "Boogie Woogie Bugle Boy." By the time Joel finished his eighth consecutive dance at the Bigelow, he was a swinging machine with an adrenaline rush, a weary partner, and a growing number of dance hall fans, including his twenty-one-year-old grandmother.
"When did our Renaissance man become Fred Astaire?"
Ginny smiled as she tapped her cigarette over a tray.
"This month," Joel said, catching his breath. "Zelda does wonders."
"I'll say."
Zelda Zubiria needed no introduction at their table for four. The owner, operator, and head instructor at the oldest and most prominent dance studio in north Seattle had turned hundreds of dead hoofers into ducky shincrackers. Humbled by his showing at Lake Wilderness, Joel had taken corrective action and hired Zelda herself four days a week. Joe DiMaggio was the gift that kept giving.
"Fred Astaire or not, he's exhausting," Grace said, smiling as she pulled up a seat. "You two should have warned me."
"Warned you?" Tom asked. "He was a klutz with Linda."
The mere mention of the jilted redhead brought Joel back to July and the lake. He had not seen her since their night at the movies six weeks earlier but still felt badly about how things had turned out. She deserved better and hopefully would find better. Tonight, however, he had eyes for only one.
"Did you have fun today?"
"I had fun. You know I had fun," she said, squeezing his hand on top of the table. "And I want to have more fun tomorrow."
Joel smiled as he thought of how she had started the day. Grace had not wasted a minute in the pursuit of pleasure. When the group reached its destination at noon, after a five-hour drive, she had jumped out of the car, run to the beach, and splashed up a storm in knee-high surf. No one had needed to ask why. Except on a trip to the Philippine Sea on her twelfth birthday, Grace had never played in the ocean.
She had also never seen a house quite like the one near Tillamook Head. With a crow's nest loft, a soapstone fireplace, modern kitchen, wraparound deck, and views of the Pacific on three sides, it exceeded even Joel's expectations. It had two bedrooms, which Ginny quickly designated "the boys' room" and "the girls' room."
Carol Morgan had greeted them at twelve thirty with groceries, firewood, and a bottle of homemade raspberry wine. Ginny's cousin, a perky twenty-five-year-old mother of two, asked a dozen questions of Tom, Joel, and Grace before nonchalantly advising Ginny to behave herself, turning over the keys, and returning to her home in town.
Two of the visitors then put their stamp on the day. At Tom's insistence, the four ate lunch at the Cranky Crab. At Grace's, they spent the rest of the afternoon beachcombing and riding the Ferris wheel, carousel, and bumper cars. Joel and Ginny gladly yielded the balance of their time and agendas to their enthusiastic companion.
As he sat across from Grace at their small round table, Joel thought about how strange and wonderful it was to see the world through her eyes. Until stumbling back in time, he had never known life without computers, jetliners, cable television, and modern medicine. Grace, on the other hand, had not known indoor plumbing until her seventeenth year. She had done without comforts her three affluent friends took for granted yet had arguably lived a richer life than all of them. Joel smiled as he watched her adjust a purple swing dress she had donned for the first time in months and play with a beaded bracelet he had won by throwing softballs at weighted bottles.
"I see you like your trinket," he said.
"I do. I shall wear it proudly, as a reminder of the effort needed to obtain it."
"That's killing with kindness, pal," Tom said with a hearty laugh. He lit a cigar and leaned back. "What did you spend on that, five bucks? I saw at least twenty pitches."
"Thirty."
"It's the thought that counts, Tom," Ginny said.
Joel grinned and took a stogie from his colleague, wondering how many minutes would elapse before his tobacco-loving granny lit into him about hypocrisy. She said nothing. Instead she smiled and studied him – not like a member of a long-lost tribe but rather like a long-lost family member she was just beginning to understand.
"So what's the deal with the house, Ginny?" Joel asked. "Does your cousin own it, or is it a family-owned toy that gets passed around twice a month?"
"My parents built it ten years ago. They own it and come here about every other weekend in the summer. They would be here now if not for a wedding today in Portland. You will meet them on Monday. We're having lunch in Forest Grove."
"Where does Carol fit in?"
"She and Eddie maintain the place. They live just up the street with their girls. We'll be there for breakfast tomorrow," she said. "They're our chaperones, by the way."
"And I must say they're doing a m
ighty fine job," Tom said.
The girls laughed.
"How do you put up with him?" Joel asked.
"I don't," Ginny said. "I see things differently. I believe men are creatures to be managed, not endured, and I think I've managed him quite nicely."
"Well put, sweetie," Tom said.
"Now, if you gentlemen will excuse us, I think Grace and I will run to the ladies' room before that line around the corner gets any longer."
"Bon voyage."
A moment after the women departed, Tom tapped a few ashes and settled into his chair. He looked at Joel closely, nodded, and smiled.
"You look happy, buddy."
"I am."
"Well, that's what a good woman will do for you."
Joel laughed.
"You're one to talk."
"Yes, I am. Ginny's been good for me." He blew a smoke ring at the ceiling. "So have you. I'm glad you two could join us this weekend. I have to admit I wasn't so sure about Grace. She was a sight after the spat with Linda. But it's pretty obvious she's happy to be here and even happier being Tonto to the Lone Ranger."
"I'm not complaining."
Tom settled into his lightly-padded folding chair and shifted his eyes to the action beyond, from couples walking across the dance floor to those sitting on benches along the perimeter to those passing though two doors that led to a carpeted concession area. With each observation, his smile dimmed and his face and posture appeared more reflective.
"Do you ever think about your future?"
"With Grace?"
"With Grace, Linda, Betty Grable, anyone. That's not my point. Do you ever think about where you might be in a year?
"I do, sometimes. But I don't obsess over it."
"I wish I could think that way."
"What do you mean?"
"Look around."
Joel did as instructed and saw roughly two hundred people in the Bigelow, a skating rink turned dance hall that had hosted the likes of Benny Goodman, Harry James, Duke Ellington, and Les Hite. Most were well dressed. All appeared well behaved. None seemed relevant to the conversation.
The Mine (Northwest Passage Book 1) Page 18
