“Well there is a little left here and there, but it was actually quite warm today,” Marcus mumbled, then yawned loudly. “The ground might have been a little too soggy, but you never know. Pop’s determined enough that it probably wouldn’t have stopped him.” He yawned again.
“You really should get more sleep, son,” his mother admonished and Marcus had to smile. He’d have gotten more sleep if she could remember that it was three hours later in Michigan than it was in Arizona.
“I’ll work on it, Mother.”
“I hope- Hang on a second. Yes, dear, I’ll be right there. Marcus, I have to go. Your father woke up and is wondering why I haven‘t come to bed yet. I love you, son.”
“I love you, too, Mother. Give Pop my love.”
As he trudged back up to his room he shook his head and hoped it wouldn’t take too long for him to fall asleep again. He wondered if the late night calls would continue if, by some miracle, he did find himself married someday. But he knew they would. She’d just have to find different reasons to make them.
~~~
Spring, it seemed, was here to stay. Of course there was always the possibility of a late season snow, but it would surprise him if it came. It just felt like winter was finally over. Daniel could feel it in the warmer air as he walked as quickly as he could to pick Nina up for church this late April morning.
As always, he could hardly wait to see her again, even though he’d walked her home from the sanatorium the night before. And it was even better since he’d been able to get rid of the crutches when the splint came off a couple of weeks ago.
The polished cane took a few days to get used to but he thought it made him look rather dapper, dressed in his wool suit and overcoat. Though he never thought he’d looked awful before, he found himself taking more pains with his appearance since that first night he’d gone to see Nina at the hospital.
And she always looked beautiful. Whether wearing her nurse’s uniform, or one of only two other dresses she owned. Last Sunday she’d worn the black and yellow day dress so, he assumed, today she’d be wearing the pink one. He hoped it wouldn’t be long before he could see to it that she had all the clothes she could ever want.
By the end of the summer he expected to have enough money to completely refurbish his house, the only home he’d ever known. Fortunately his parents had inherited it from his mother’s parents, or they might have lost it after his father died. His mother’s meager salary as a secretary to a prominent local attorney was barely enough to pay the property tax and put food on the table. It surely didn’t allow for a coat of paint or nicer furniture.
But at least he’d known what it was like to have a home and parents, he thought, bounding up the stairs of the boarding house and knocking on the door. Nina had never known either. But she would what it was like to have a home. And he would move heaven and earth to make sure it would happen soon.
“Good morning,” Nina said, smiling brightly as she opened the door.
“Good morning yourself. You look lovely,” he complimented, as he did each time he saw her. She blushed, as she did each time he complimented her. “Ready to go?”
“Yes.”
He tucked her hand in the crook of his free arm, and they began the seven block walk to church.
“I can hardly wait for summer,” Nina sighed, stepping neatly around a puddle, a reminder of the recently melted snow.
“I was thinking the same thing on my way to your house. Shouldn’t be too much longer. The first of May is this Thursday.”
“I know. It’ll be so much nicer weather to walk in.”
“Except when it rains.” Nina laughed softly at that and he asked, “What?”
“I love to walk in the rain. If it’s warm, of course. And so long as there isn’t much lightening.” Not at all afraid of storms himself, Daniel wanted to hug her.
“Then I guess we can take walks in the rain,” he decided, silly though they might look to passersby. “And have picnics, and sit on the dam when it gets too hot.”
“I’ve never done that before.”
“What?”
“Sit on the dam.”
“Why not? There’s nothing I like to do much more on a sweltering day.”
“I always thought I’d feel foolish sitting there alone.”
“Well, now you have me to sit with. If you want to.”
“I want to,” she said shyly, glancing at him from beneath her incredibly long lashes.
“I’m glad.” This time he gave into temptation, wrapped his arm around her shoulders and hugged her to his side for a moment before resuming their walk. “It doesn’t matter what we do, Nina. I just want to be with you.”
“I feel the same way, Daniel.”
He felt his chest puff out just the tiniest bit as they walked into the sanctuary and he wondered if he could find the time to work at a second job. At least part of the time. It would be nice to be able to take care of the house before the end of the summer. The only problem was, it would be at the expense of time with Nina. He wasn’t sure he was willing to give that up, he thought, as they sat in a pew near the back of the church. From the pulpit, Colby Thornton smiled at them.
Chapter 7
“Oh for heaven’s sake,” Jonathon muttered in exasperation, taking the stick wrapped round and round with string from Charles’ chubby little hand. “Didn’t I tell you to run with it?”
“I did wun wif it,” Charles said confidently. Unlike Kathleen, Jonathon’s impatience rarely bothered him.
“Then why is the kite still on the ground?” he demanded irritably.
“Becauth it didn’t go up.”
“Because you didn’t run with it. Here. I’ll show you again. But this is the last time.”
Jonathon wound the string so the kite only had about six feet of slack, grabbed it just beneath the bottom point and ran like the wind. It would be nice if it were his own kite he was trying to get up in the air but, as always, he was stuck helping the babies. Well, Richard was helping Kathleen, who wasn’t faring much better than Charles.
Someday he would just sneak out alone and not have to worry about anyone but himself. Have fun without having one of the babies tagging along and spoiling everything.
Still, he had no choice at the moment and so he picked up his pace, letting the string glide easily through his fingers. As it drifted farther up, he uncoiled more until it soared high above the treetops.
“Do you want your kite or not?” he asked, every word laced with sarcasm as he glared at his brother. Charles hurried over, an awed expression on his round little face. Excitement glowed in his eyes as he eagerly took the stick from Jonathon, who cautioned as he demonstrated, “Tug on the string like this to keep it up.”
“I will,” Charles promised, tugging the way his brother had shown him.
“You better, ‘cause I’m gonna go fly mine now.”
Jonathon muttered to himself as he crossed the field until he was a safe distance away. It hadn’t been long since the snow melted and the grass was a little sparse in some spots over here. That meant being a little careful where he stepped – unless he wanted to risk his mother’s wrath when he returned home with mud covered shoes.
Jonathon picked up his kite and the stick full of string and got his kite up in the air just as quickly as he had Charles’, whom he put right out of his thoughts as he enjoyed the tautness of the string as the kite sailed through the air. He imagined himself up there, at the controls of a Bleriot, gunning for the Kaiser, killing more of the enemy than any soldier could ever dream possible. The most decorated hero any century had ever known.
He could see it now. Admirers lining the streets when he returned home – wounded, of course, from his last and most triumphant battle, whereupon he had managed to massacre a thousand bloody German’s. Cheers from the crowd filled his ears, grateful citizens rushing up to shake his hand, awed at his fearless courage, thanking him for single-handedly winning the war.
A frustrated
wail wiped the smile of satisfaction from his lips and, with a growl of irritation, he turned to see Charles’ kite not only back on the ground, but broken and torn as well.
The boy knelt beside it, tears coursing down his face. He looked at Jonathon helplessly.
“I bwoke my kite, Jonafon.”
“I told you to tug on the string, didn’t I?”
“I did tug on it. But the kite falled down anyway.”
“That’s cause you didn’t do it right.” Why he had to try and teach these ninnies anything was beyond his comprehension. Charles, for one, was too young to be out here doing a man’s job. Kathleen, barely older, shouldn’t be either. He should be home playing with his baby blocks and she should be home content with her dolls and tea set. But no, here they were, ruining his day. Again.
“I twied,” Charles said, a tremor in his voice.
Jonathon bit back his next words, sure to send the boy sobbing home. Mother wouldn’t tolerate that because she didn’t allow snapping at the babies. Even when they deserved it. So he kept quiet for a moment, wondering what he could do to mollify him.
“Why don’t you watch me until we go home? Then when Pop gets you another one, you won’t break it, all right?”
“Awight.”
~~~
As was his usual custom, Marcus arrived at the monthly businessmen’s luncheon a little late. He supposed the table nearest the door was left empty to accommodate him because no one was ever there to bother him. To force him into conversation he rarely wanted any part of.
Mr. Spiros was speaking about the impact the war was having on the economy in Charlotte. Which amounted to none at all because even though they complied what with the meatless and wheat-less days, their consumers made up for them with other purchases.
Per usual, the meeting was as dull as dull could be. Marcus was at the point where he let his mind wander, to such interesting things as the need to dust the caskets in his store room, when Elliot Owens slid quietly into the seat across from him. Marcus swallowed hard.
“Good afternoon, Marcus” Elliot said softly, turning his attention to Mr. Spiros.
Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad. As soon as the ‘speech’ was over, the waitresses would bring out plates of roast pork and vegetables, roast because today was not a meatless day, and probably why they met on Saturday’s. And the businessmen’s luncheons were always scheduled so they didn’t coincide with Meatless Mondays or Wheat-less Wednesdays. In fact, the board even made sure that Waldorf salad and peach pie were served at every meeting, too.
There might have been a few people in town who understood how peach pits and the shells from nuts could be used in the production of filters for gas masks, but Marcus wasn’t one of them.
At the moment, though, all he wanted was for the meals to be delivered quickly so he could eat and leave – with no chit-chat between now and then. Because Marcus was well aware of the fact that he’d never mastered the art of conversation. Partly because he’d been his parent’s only child, and they had tended to be quiet people, largely due to working in the funeral business he was sure. But mostly because he’d always suffered from painful shyness. And, he figured it was because he spent more time than the average person with dead bodies and grieving families.
All he had to do in those situations was express sympathy for the loss, make certain that the body was embalmed and dressed nicely, arrange for one of the local ministers to perform the funeral – if the family didn’t belong to a church, and deliver the casket to the cemetery. Not a lot of opportunity for long discussions about anything other than the task at hand.
Then there was the fact that he led a quiet life. Some might even call it boring. Whatever the case, he wasn’t a sparkling conversationalist.
“Well I must say this looks delicious,” Elliot was saying, lifting a forkful of pork to his mouth. Deep in thought, Marcus hadn’t even noticed the plates placed before them. After swallowing Elliot added, “Not as good as my wife makes, but close.”
“It is good,” Marcus mumbled, taking a bite so he didn’t have to say anything else.
“I hope I didn’t disrupt the meeting too much when I came in late. I have a customer who wears a size nine shoe but is convinced she needs a four.” He grinned at Marcus, who really wasn’t sure what to say in response. “I have to persuade her that there must have been a mistake in the sizing of this particular delivery of shoes and it can be a long, drawn out process.”
“I imagine so.”
“So what did I miss?”
“Miss?”
“What did Mr. Spiros have to say about business in Charlotte before I got here?”
“I- Um. Not a whole lot,” Marcus stammered. “He – just said that the war really wasn’t affecting profits much.”
“I suppose that’s true,” Elliot agreed. “I haven’t noticed a drop in shoe sales at all. If anything, I’m selling more than before it started. But I guess it wouldn’t really affect your business, would it?”
“No.” Not even a little because his business was pretty consistent year after year. He only hoped he’d never have an increase like Elliot just reported.
“I was really sorry to hear that Robert Bodell passed last week. Very sad for his wife and children.”
“Yes it was.”
“It’s good her parents are in a position to take them in.”
“Yes. Very good of them.” He couldn’t imagine having seven children under the age of twelve thrust on him and shuddered at the thought.
“Cold?” Elliot asked. “It can be rather drafty sitting this close to the door.”
“I’m fine.” As fine as one could be considering how fast he was shoveling food in his mouth. The only person he’d shared a meal with in years was Colby, and Colby wasn’t very big on conversation. A very good quality in a minister and friend.
“So,” Elliot said, beginning to sound a little uncomfortable. “How have you been, Marcus?”
“I- Fine. I’ve been fine.” He gulped a quick sip of coffee and shoved his half empty plate away. “It’s been nice talking with you, Elliot. I need to go.”
“It was nice talking with you, too.”
Marcus pushed away from the table and hurried out the door, leaving an amused Elliot shaking his head.
~~~
Though early May was usually very pleasant and comfortable the air today was simply too hot – and far too humid. At least compared to the bitter cold of winter not too many weeks ago. Daniel knew that in a month or so he’d be longing for a day such as this. The change had just been too dramatic for anyone but children to enjoy.
Doing nothing more than guiding the horse, pulling the buggy he had borrowed a short while ago, Daniel was sweating profusely. Beside him Nina sat wearing the dress she’d sewn herself, alternately wearing her straw hat and fanning herself with it. Her long hair was coiled around her head to keep it off her neck. It wouldn’t be long before they, along with many of their fellow citizens, started longing for the cool, crisp days of autumn.
By then he might know what had been troubling Nina since supper the previous afternoon. In one instant she’d been laughing and telling him about a cranky patient at the hospital, and the next she’d paled and gone very quiet. At first he thought it might be the heat, but it hadn’t been especially warm yesterday so it couldn’t have been that.
Today hadn’t been much better. She was only answering direct questions – with as few words as possible. Finally he worked up the courage to ask,
“Have I offended you in some way, Nina?”
“Offended me?” she looked at him in such surprise he knew whatever it was didn’t have anything to do with him. “No. Of course not. Why would you think such a thing?”
“Well, I couldn’t help but notice that something has been bothering you since yesterday. You haven’t had much to say to me since,” he said self-consciously. The last way he wanted to come across was as complaining or whining but, in truth, it hurt that she wasn’t talking t
o him.
“Daniel, I’m sorry,” Nina apologized, laying a gentle hand on his arm. “It’s not you, I promise.”
“Then what is it, Nina? What is upsetting you so much?” He noted that she removed her hand and looked out across a field, avoiding his eyes.
“There was a woman at the restaurant yesterday. She worked at the orphanage where I was raised.”
Obviously that brought back bad memories for her and he transferred the reins to one hand and reached over for hers with the other.
“We’ve never really talked about our childhoods, have we?” he asked needlessly. The truth was they’d talked about everything but that. “You can tell me anything, Nina.”
“Not this.”
“Why?” It didn’t look like she was going to answer him. “Nina, I swear that there isn’t anything you could tell me that would make me feel any differently about you. Nothing.”
This time when she looked at him, there were tears in her eyes. He guided the horse to the roadside then took her in his arms and held her close. He could feel her trembling.
“Nina, please. What is it?”
“I never wanted you to find out, Daniel.”
“What?”
“I- That woman – Mrs. Campbell, was in charge of the orphanage. I mean, she wasn’t ‘in charge’ in charge. Mr. Dixon was the headmaster. She was just in charge of all the orphans. She set the schedules for schooling and chores, you know.”
“She was a hard task master?” he prompted.
“There was that,” she admitted reluctantly.
“What else?”
“She was particularly hard on some of us. When I was fourteen she beat one of the other girls for dropping a tray of plates. They broke. It was an unfortunate accident, but she beat that girl so bad I had to try to stop her. I was afraid she’d kill her. She was only ten and the tray was too heavy for her.”
Enza Page 10
