by Diane Moody
Danny kissed his bride once more before taking her hand and turning to face the small gathering of their friends.
Once outside, Charlie gave Danny a mighty bear hug and slapped him on his back. “Congratulations, old boy!” He stepped back and held out his arms to Anya. “And my condolences to the new Mrs. McClain. I’m afraid you’ve got your hands full with this one, but no doubt you’ll have him toeing the line in a day or two.”
“Pay no mind to him,” Sophie teased, elbowing him out of the way to give Anya a hug. “When it comes to these American menfolk, it takes a tad bit longer to break them in. Trust me on that,” she added with a playful wink.
Sophie’s father Patrick rushed around them. “Congratulations, to both of you! Now, take your time making your way to the pub. I’m off to finish preparing our little celebration.”
Sophie gave Anya’s wrist a squeeze. “Oh Anya, I’m so happy for you. I know you and Danny will be just as happy as we are.”
Anya’s smile quivered ever so slightly as she nodded. Danny appreciated Sophie’s kind words and wondered how on earth they ever would have pulled off their hasty wedding without her help. He still couldn’t help feeling it was all just a dream.
The immigration process had been a nightmare. Like most of Europe still fighting its way out of the fog of war, Holland was years away from returning to business as usual. The process of required paperwork necessary for someone to leave the country moved at a snail’s pace, frustrating Danny and filling Anya with second thoughts. Even with all the forms filed, they’d been told the wait for her visa could take weeks, maybe months.
When his leave ended, saying goodbye had been brutal. He wondered if he would ever see her again. Would she change her mind? Would she convince herself to stay and help rebuild her beloved homeland? Would she find a thousand other excuses not to marry him or come with him to America?
These were the thoughts that crept through his heart day and night while he waited back in Framlingham. Then, a few weeks later, he was surprised to receive a telegram from Anya saying she’d bought a ticket on a ferry boat and would arrive in England the next day. Even now, he still couldn’t believe her visa finally came through, and she’d actually made the trip. Yet here they were, five days later … married.
Sophie was an absolute godsend, stepping in to make Anya feel as welcome as possible. How it warmed his heart to see the two of them together, Sophie ministering to her as only another woman could. Without Sophie’s help, he doubted Anya would’ve made it to the altar today.
But oh, how she did. What a shock to see the startling transformation from the gaunt, scrawny young woman he’d first met in a safe house in Holland, to the beautiful bride now walking beside him. The simple cream-colored dress which Sophie had worn for her own wedding now graced Anya’s slender frame, the perfect fit evidence of Sophie’s expertise with a needle and thread.
Like so many other war brides before her, Sophie had fashioned her wedding dress from remnants of a silk parachute. Oh, the irony. If not for a silk parachute dropping him into Holland, he never would have found Anya. Years had passed since the blackout of war had abruptly ended their exchange of letters. And yet, here she stood, elegant in the creamy silken folds of what once was a parachute.
Such a feminine look was different for Anya, but Danny thought it suited her well. A loosely woven braid gathered her dark hair down the nape of her neck as wisps of hair rustled across her forehead in the gentle breeze. He couldn’t stop looking at her and didn’t bother trying. He stole another kiss, then tucked her hand in the crook of his arm and covered it with his own as they turned the corner nearing Quincy’s Pub.
A battered bicycle hit the ground as a crewman stiffened and threw them a salute.
“Sirs! Oh, sirs! My friends! My friends!”
Oh no.
“Oh blessed day, I can’t believe it!” With his salute still locked in place, the short Italian continued. “To think a mere jaunt into town by this lowly sergeant could coincide with the very path on which you wonderful people trod—”
“At ease, Sergeant,” Charlie interrupted, offering a weary salute in return. “Nothing to get excited about.”
“Oh, but sirs, it is! It truly is! Do you perchance remember me? I had the esteemed honor of accompanying you on one of your Chowhound missions. Truly the highlight of my service here in the war of which we partook.”
“Sure we remember you, Sergeant. How could we forget?” Danny slowed their pace, but didn’t want to risk getting sidelined by the chatty crewman. “It’s Cosmos, isn’t it?”
“Oh boy, here we go,” Charlie muttered.
Cosmos placed both hands over his heart as he nodded. “Yes, sir. That’s right. Cosmos Benedetto from the great state of New Jersey. But I have to say, the fact that you actually remembered my name? I’m, I’m … why, I’m utterly speechless.”
“Somehow I doubt that,” Charlie quipped under his breath. Danny elbowed him.
“It’s nice to see you again, Sergeant Benedetto.” Danny picked up their pace. “If we don’t see you again before you head back to the States, have a safe trip home, okay?”
Suddenly, Cosmos was directly in their path, arms wide open, looking like a child on Christmas morning. “Oh my goodness! It has just occurred to me! Lieutenant, did you just marry this exquisite beauty?”
Danny finally stopped and wrapped his arm around Anya’s shoulders. “Yes, I did. In fact, we just came from the church. This is my bride, Anya Vers—I mean, Anya McClain.”
She reached out her hand. “It’s nice to meet you, Sergeant.”
He stared at her hand briefly before taking it in both of his. “Oh my dear girl, the honor is all mine. Truly, it is. And if I may, let me be the first to congratulate you on this your day of wedded matrimony. May the—” he paused as emotion stole his voice. “May the good Lord above, who has seen fit to allow all of us here to survive the troubled landscape of war these many years, bless you with a lifetime of happiness together.”
Anya smiled, her hand still in his grasp. “That’s very kind. Thank you.”
Charlie patted Cosmos on the back and steered him toward his bicycle. “Sergeant, I’m afraid you’ll have to excuse us. There’s a reception awaiting the newlyweds, and we mustn’t be late. I’m sure you understand.”
“Oh yes, yes! Of course. Off with you now. Mustn’t be late!” He snapped another salute.
Danny returned the gesture. “Take care, Sergeant.”
“You too, Lieutenant. And you as well, Mrs. Lieutenant.”
As the four of them spilled into the pub, Anya felt her nerves beginning to calm. She’d never been one of those girls who’d dreamed of a fancy wedding, or getting married at all, for that matter. Yet here she was, her fingers still clutched to the crook of Danny’s arm.
It hadn’t been that long ago when she’d deemed him an odd duck; the young American boy who was pen pals with her brother Hans. After Hans died, Anya had struggled to write Danny about his death. His heartfelt response had touched her deeply. Almost as an afterthought, they began to write each other more often, until one day she realized how much she looked forward to finding his letters in the post and his tales of movies and baseball and a dog named Sophie.
Not a girlfriend. A dog.
“That’s quite a smile on your face, Mrs. McClain.” Danny tilted his head to one side as he gazed into her eyes. “Penny for your thoughts?”
She blinked out of her revelry. “What did you say?”
“A penny for your thoughts. It’s an expression. Means I’m curious what you’re thinking in that pretty little head of yours.”
She smiled, the scene still vivid in her mind. “I was remembering the day your friend Lieutenant Pendergrass tried to warn me about the girl back home you were in love with. He was trying to spare my broken heart, or so he said, though I knew he was just flirting with me.”
“Girl? What girl?”
“Oh, you know the one. That
adorable girl you named your plane after. Sweet Sophie, wasn’t it?”
He threw his head back laughing, his guffaw bouncing off the low beams of the pub’s ceiling.
She couldn’t help laughing. “I had the same reaction when he said it, only I’d just taken a sip of hot coffee and immediately spewed it across the table, showering my friend Frederic …” The face of her fallen co-worker flashed through her mind, giving her pause. She shook it off, unwilling to let the memories spoil this day, and tried to find her smile again.
Danny pulled her into his arms. “Do you have any idea how beautiful you are when you laugh like that? Do you have any idea how much I love the sound of your laughter?”
She knew he was trying to change the subject, and she loved him for it. “Don’t be silly. It’s just a laugh.”
He nudged her chin upward until her eyes found his again. “Yes, but after years of so little to laugh about, I believe it may be the sweetest sound I’ve ever heard.” He kissed her gently, holding her close.
Patrick Quincy elbowed his way past them. “All right, you two. Hold off on all that kissing for now. Come and let us give you a proper toast.”
Danny touched the small of her back as they joined the others near the hearth. Before it stood a table adorned with vases of wild flowers and a lovely three-tiered cake. Anya wondered how Patrick found the ingredients as rationing kept grocers’ shelves sparse.
“Charlie, would you do the honors?” Patrick handed out the slender glasses. “There’s not so much as a bottle of champagne to be found in all of Suffolk, so we’ll simply have to make do with a drop or two of fresh cider.”
Charlie raised his glass and cleared his throat. “I know the last thing Danny and I thought about when we enlisted was finding true love in the midst of war. Mostly, we just hoped to make it home in one piece.” He slipped his arm around Sophie’s waist. “In spite of it all, here we stand as the war is finally over, and beside us, the two most beautiful women on God’s green earth.”
“Here here!” Sophie cheered, raising her glass toward Anya. Anya followed her lead, clinking her glass against Sophie’s.
“Today we offer our congratulations to Anya and Danny as they begin their life together as husband and wife. Someday your grandchildren will ask to hear about your love story, and my guess is they’ll find it hard to believe. How two people from different sides of the world became friends through written letters while still in high school, then years later found their paths crossing in, of all places, the middle of a war.” He shook his head, smiling. “If that’s not providential, I don’t know what is.
“And so it is with great pleasure I wish you both a lifetime of happiness, a love that stands true and uncompromised no matter what life may bring your way, and hearts filled with promise and hope once again as the clouds of war are finally clearing.” Charlie raised his glass higher. “To Danny and Anya.”
“To Danny and Anya!”
Danny took a sip then leaned over to kiss his wife.
“Charlie, thank you for your kind words,” he began. “Didn’t know you had it in you, buddy.”
“I practiced for weeks.”
“Sure you did.”
“Hours and hours.”
“Of course.
“Okay, have it your way. It was ad-libbed. All of it. Spur of the moment.”
“That’s more like it.”
They all laughed, accustomed to the familiar banter between the two.
“I thought it was splendid, love,” Sophie added. “And Danny, might I add that I also wish you and Anya every happiness. Now, are you ready to cut the cake?”
“Actually, there’s something I’d like to do first.” Danny set down his glass then reached into the pocket of his jacket. “I received a telegram this morning from my parents, and I’d like to share it with all of you.”
“Go ahead and read it, Danny,” Sophie said.
He looked at Anya and gave her a wink. “All right, here’s what they wrote. ‘Shocked and delighted to hear of your wedding. Stop. Wish we could be there. Stop. We cannot wait to meet Anya and welcome her to our family. Stop. God bless you both today and may He bless your marriage always. Stop. All our love, Mom and Dad.’”
When Danny’s voice cracked, he busied himself folding the telegram then tucked it back in his pocket.
“How lovely,” Sophie said. “A fine message to cheer you on today.”
Anya reached up to kiss his cheek. “That’s lovely, Danny. So thoughtful of them.”
Later, after cutting the cake, the newlyweds thanked Patrick for all his kindnesses, then joined Charlie and Sophie in Patrick’s automobile for the short drive to the Wickham Market Station. They chatted happily along the way, arriving in plenty of time. As the men walked ahead, carrying their luggage, Sophie looped her arm through Anya’s.
“Oh Anya, I hope you and Danny have the most unforgettable honeymoon. Just relax and forget about everything else whilst you’re in London. Promise?”
“We’ll try.”
When they arrived at their train carriage, they said their goodbyes.
“Have a wonderful time!” Sophie said. “Be sure to say hello to the king and queen for us, won’t you?”
“We will!”
Then, before climbing the steps into the train, Anya stopped and turned back to Sophie, pulling her into a final hug. “How can I ever thank you for all you’ve done? You’ve been so kind to me. You didn’t even know me, and yet you loaned me this beautiful dress, and helped find clothes for me, and fixed my hair today … and helped calm my nerves after the wretched nightmares. How can I ever repay you?”
Sophie stood back and grabbed both of Anya’s hands. “There’s no need. It’s been my pleasure, Anya.”
Anya blinked away the tears and took a deep breath. “The thing is, I don’t even know how to properly thank you for being … my friend.”
“And you will never know how pleased I am that I got to be that friend for you. It’s been my honor.”
“All aboard!”
“Goodbye!”
“Have fun!”
“Thanks for everything!”
“Goodbye!”
Danny stood aside and held out his hand to his wife. “After you, Mrs. McClain.”
“Why, thank you, Mr. McClain.”
3
With his new wife seated beside him on the train, her head tucked beneath his chin as she slept, Danny gazed out the window watching the farm fields and houses and little hamlets pass by. The thoughts rambling through his mind followed no particular script; just a jumbled maze of rabbit trails hopping here and there. But one by one, they all ended with the same thought.
We’re married?
We’re married!
I can’t believe we’re actually married!
He gently kissed the top of her head as she slept beside him, inhaling the scent of her hair, and thanking God for the miracle of their love story.
She’d been strangely quiet once they’d settled into their seats on the train. At first, they’d chatted quietly about the wedding and the honeymoon they’d be spending in London. Despite the bumpy, peculiar path their lives had taken these past few weeks, he was already learning to read the signs of her shifting moods. Eyes that wouldn’t meet his, staring off at some unseen memory. The slight stiffening of her shoulders as if bracing for confrontation. The way she nibbled at her thumbnail without ever actually biting down on it.
He took a deep breath and tried to set aside such thoughts. He knew it would take some adjustment, this marriage of theirs. Anya wasn’t just a new bride; she was still recovering from the war’s deep and jagged scars on her emotions. But at this moment, Danny chose to shun such thoughts because this was their wedding day.
She stirred, rousing from her sleep. “Did you say something?”
He shook his head and brushed the wisps of hair away from her eyes. “No, but I do have something I need to tell you.”
Her expression tensed. “Tell m
e what?”
He crooked his finger, motioning her closer then whispered in her ear, “I love you, Anya Liesj Versteeg McClain.”
A shy smile eased her expression. “Such a mouthful, all those names.”
“Yes, but they’re yours and I love them. All of them. Preferably together.”
“And would you prefer I call you Daniel Howard McClain?”
“Actually, I prefer Lieutenant Daniel Howard McClain. But I’ll make an exception. Just for you.”
“How gracious of you.”
“Then again, I don’t care what you call me as long as you call me.”
“Is that so?”
“Yes, ma’am, that’s affirmative.” He leaned down to kiss her lips. When she didn’t respond, he sat back. She motioned with her eyes, nodding toward the elderly lady in the seat facing them. The white-haired woman smiled, apparently enjoying their public display of affection.
“Got it,” Danny whispered. “Okay, then.” He nodded toward the window. “Take a look. We’re coming into London.”
“Already?”
He’d meant it as a diversion, hoping to distract the old lady. But when he saw the crumbled, massive piles of debris and still-smoldering ashes, he froze, unable to look away.
As the train gradually slowed, a number of houses flashed by, some still intact but most gutted and empty. As if a giant had walked through the neighborhoods, squashing each home to ruin with mighty, deliberate steps. In some areas, demolition had cleared block after block, leaving only crumbled foundations and an occasional chimney where homes once stood.
In the front yards of those still standing, people of all ages picked through the rubble. He wondered if they were looking for missing heirlooms, searching for anything that could be salvaged. Or were these complete strangers, pilfering through the dusty remnants of someone else’s life?
With her back still leaning against him, Danny felt Anya’s shiver as she gazed at the sight. He wrapped his arm around her and pulled her closer.
“Anya?”
She turned to face him, and the haunted look in her eyes almost undid him.
