Was I foolish for insisting that we go to the park tomorrow? I wanted to be somewhere with him that had once belonged to us. We had met at the park, and I was hopeful we would have an easier time reconnecting there. I stopped myself from these dizzying thoughts with a firm head shake and dressed in my night clothes.
Of course things would be fine; he was here, and that was what mattered. More importantly, he wanted us to run away together, as soon as possible. I filled the empty room with laughter at the sheer pleasure of being so desperately wanted and being so close fulfilling the dream that I so desperately wanted.
I climbed into bed and pulled the sheet up to my chin. My eyes wouldn’t shut, though, and I tossed and turned in my small bed. There was a sound on the steps, a creaking on the landing. In the shadows stood Ellis. I sat up quickly. He came to my bedside.
“Ellis,” I whispered in a rush, “you can’t be up here!” I pushed him away and pulled the covers up across my chest.
“I was very quiet past your parents’ room. And nonsense. We will be married soon.”
“Not if Papa finds you up here!”
“He is very fond of me, said so just this evening on the porch, when I asked him for your hand.”
He had asked Papa! My body warmed with pleasure all the way down to my feet. It had always been a shining future… when we knew each other better, when we were older, when the war was over, when, when, when. And here we were. We had arrived at now. Now he had asked for my hand. Now he spoke to my father. Now we would be married. Now I would see the country with my love at my side.
“What did he say?” I asked, hopeful, so hopeful that Papa would support this.
“I told him that I loved you very much and had waited long enough through the war and wanted you to be my bride. He said that he and your mother were very fond of me and that he would be pleased if I became your husband.”
“Did you mention leaving town?”
“That part pleased him less, I’m afraid. He said he couldn’t stop us from living our lives wherever we saw fit, but asked that we announce our engagement and get married here in town. He said that there was no reason to rush, insisted upon waiting until I found proper employment, in fact. But he did give me permission to ask you to marry me. And I couldn’t wait a moment longer to do it. So here I am. But, tell your father that I waited until tomorrow at the park.”
I laughed and agreed. He pulled at my sheets and swung my legs around so that they hung off the bed and I faced him. He was already kneeling, but he took my hands in his.
“Tish, I love you so much. Will you marry me?”
“I will.” I moved toward him and kissed him. Many of my doubts washed away in that moment, and I was light and full of air. My heart began to beat faster when Ellis held my kiss. He stood, our lips still together, and moved himself into the bed. My whole body felt the surprise and glorious weight of him as he pressed his body to mine. I broke the kiss and looked into his expectant eyes. I truly wanted to continue, but was frightened that we would be discovered.
“Tish, we are going to be married,” he said in answer to my unspoken worries and then quieted all protests with his lips on my mouth.
I felt my body rise to meet his and ignored my schoolgirl propriety. This is what I wanted too. And we were to be married. I closed my eyes, stopped thinking, and just enjoyed his soft caresses.
Our limbs entwined, an urgency began to take over in Ellis. He moved faster and more insistently. His desperation seemed to grow. Pain and pleasure mingled inside me, and the small sounds escaping my throat were muffled by his mouth hard on mine. I sought out his eyes again, but they were vacant. When we finished, he buried his head in my shoulder and I could feel his chest heaving.
●●●
In the morning, the bird songs woke me. I was alone in my small bed, but as I opened my eyes, I was joined by the memory of last night. I sat up, my body tender and my mind bruised. It hadn’t been what I expected. Perhaps our coupling had been what Ellis needed to shake off the horrors of the war, but it had felt strange, like it needn’t have been me at all. I loved Ellis, at least the Ellis I knew before the war. Resolving to bring that Ellis back, I said a silent word of thanks that we had met, he survived the war, and now was going to be my husband. He was back with me now, and his mind would come back too, given enough time. Mama was right: War was hard and ugly, and once he could be reminded that he was safe and loved here, he would calm down and settle back into his usual self. Papa had insisted that we wait a bit, and for the first time I was grateful for the delay.
I dressed for the day at the park, checking the mirror to see if I was somehow changed. Did I look different now that Ellis had been in my bed? I was a bit flushed, perhaps, and still somewhat bewildered by the act itself, but otherwise I seemed quite the same. I went downstairs. I could smell the heady scent of bacon in the pan and found Ellis folding up the sheets that he had used on the davenport for at least part of the night.
“Good morning,” he said, his eyes mischievous to match his grin. I expected him to lick his lips like a carnivorous beast. I blushed when he grabbed me and nuzzled my neck.
I recognized his touch, pre-war and comforting, instead of vacuous and feral like last night. Unable to stop my grin even as I pushed him away, I said, “Stop. Papa will see you!”
“Ah, let ‘im!” Ellis said. “I’m going to be your husband soon. If he gives me any guff, I’ll just steal you away and marry you tomorrow.”
“Ellis,” I chided, nervous our behavior would give away what had occurred upstairs overnight. I could hear Papa hustling down the stairs. I grabbed a sheet and began folding, unfolding myself from Ellis.
“Good morning,” Papa called, moving aside the front door curtain and gazing toward the street. “Newspaper here yet?”
He went outside to search and Mama called us all to the table. There we found a haystack of bacon slices alongside hardboiled eggs and toast. There was coffee, too, hot and fragrant, and I helped myself to a cup. Ellis loaded his plate. I was glad to see that his appetite had returned. Papa read behind his paper, having found it on the front steps, and throughout breakfast only made murmurs and crunches from behind the black and white print. Oliver bounced around, begging to come to the park with us, but Mama put an end to that, thankfully. After breakfast, I offered to help clean up, but Mama handed us a packed picnic lunch of bread, cheese, and summer sausage and shooed us out of the house.
Puddles still lay in the street from last night’s rain, but the air was warm. Ellis and I had walked this direction before, down the same streets into town. I thought about the day we first met, about how Ivy and William had walked this way, arm in arm, tightly together.
Now, Ellis walked next to me, close but not touching. I reached out and took his hand. He flinched as if he hadn’t remembered I was there.
“Are you all right?” I asked.
He quickly softened and entwined his fingers in mine.
“Yes, I was just thinking, that’s all. It’s been awhile since I have been here, and to the park.”
“Are you looking forward to seeing it again?”
He shrugged. “I suppose so.”
“Well, the Sousa concert should be wonderful,” I said.
He gave me an unconvincing smile.
When we arrived at the park, we were immediately immersed in the sounds of the midway games and thrilled shouts of the riders aboard the amusements. Ellis hunched his shoulders, lowered his head, and walked resolutely through the crowd while I rushed to keep up. I could tell he wasn’t enjoying it. The crack of a ball against milk bottles made Ellis rear up, his features heavy with old fear. I touched his shoulder. He was shaking.
“Let’s go,” I said as quietly as I could and still be heard over the bustle. He took my hand and we walked back toward home.
●●●
When we arrived there, if Mama was surprised to see us, she didn’t act so. It was a relief. I didn’t want to explain our early return to
her, and I was sure Ellis didn’t, either. She simply said, “I telephoned Ivy and William while you were out and they have agreed to come to dinner tonight. They’d like to celebrate your homecoming, Ellis. I do hope you can stay.”
“Yes, thank you, Mrs. Hess. That will be lovely. I do need to make arrangements for long-term accommodations, though. May I use your telephone?”
“Of course, Ellis. Any time.”
His hands trembled at his sides as he turned away. I joined Mama in the kitchen while she mused out loud about the dinner menu. Once she had decided on Stewed Chicken, I began helping her while I waited for Ellis to finish on the telephone.
Ellis walked into the kitchen, rubbing the back of his neck as if he had been working all day. His voice was husky and dry.
“Well, they have space again at the Wagamon Boarding House. I bet it hasn’t changed since the day I left two years ago. I’ll go on down there now and get settled in. What time shall I return for dinner, Mrs. Hess?”
“Oh, I’d say about seven o’clock. If you’re hungry, take the picnic lunch with you. You can bring the basket back this evening.”
“Thank you.”
“My pleasure. We’re glad to have you back, Ellis.” Mama wiped her hands on a towel. She walked over to Ellis and placed her hands on his forearms. “What you did over there was brave and strong. We are very proud of you.” She squeezed his arms. Turning to me she said, “Tish, why don’t you walk him out?”
“Yes, Mama.”
On the porch, Ellis and I both started to talk at the same time. I laughed and he smiled. It was nice to see his face like that again. I stayed quiet and let him speak.
“I’m sorry about the park. Are you terribly disappointed to miss the Sousa concert?”
“No, it’s fine. With the windows open, we can usually hear it from here. I just wanted to be out in the world with you.” I paused, uneasy about asking. “Ellis, what happened?”
“It was just all too much. I’m not who I was before the war, and I don’t want to try to be that person again. Being here, trying to do the same things… It’s all so loud and everything grates on me now. I have a terrible headache. I’m going to get down to the Wagamon and try to rest. I’ll see you this evening.” He hoisted his pack and the picnic basket, and after a brief kiss, he was on his way.
●●●
I was making the sauce for the chicken when Ivy and William arrived. I had strained the cooking liquid and added lemon juice and currant jelly, and was now making a dark roux of butter and flour to thicken it. This was my third attempt after burning the first two. I simply couldn’t focus on the bubbling butter and flour mixture.
Mama left me to my thoughts and greeted Ivy and William at the door. William’s friendly booming voice carried through the house, and Ivy’s clicking high heels announced her approach. Well-coiffed and impeccably dressed in a sharp suit, she appeared in the kitchen as beautiful and slim as ever. More so, I thought. I imagined what I looked like, sweating from cooking, flour on my fingers and splatters on my apron.
“Hello, Tish,” she said. Her haughty voice was tempered with something soft, sadness perhaps. Despite growing up with her and listening to her voice until I wanted to scream, it sounded unfamiliar to me now, different somehow.
“Hello, Ivy,” I said. “How are you?”
“Still barren, it seems,” she spat bluntly.
I didn’t know how to respond. I could see the pain in her eyes, but I was wary that, like a wounded cat, she might strike at anyone trying to help her.
“Now Ivy,” Mama said, billowing in and saving me from coming up with something, “give it time. Have you spoken to the doctor?”
“Yes, Mama, of course I have. Even William has, though he’d be humiliated if he knew I told you. They can determine nothing wrong. According to my mother-in-law, though, I am just being selfish. If I really wanted a baby, she says, we would have one. She says that she agrees with Teddy Roosevelt. That I am ‘shrinking from the primary duties of life for my own love of ease.’ I think she is going to embroider a pillow with his quote about ‘willful sterility’ on it.”
“I’m so sorry, Ivy,” I said, moving toward her.
“What do you know of it, Tish?” Ivy said, her claws suddenly unsheathed. The sadness was gone and the hiss was back. She left the kitchen, joining William, Papa, and Oliver in the sitting room. I didn’t dare say that I knew more about being a woman than she thought, after last night, but I did feel sadness for her. Her body, ever her reason for being proud and imperious, was failing her in its most basic way. It must have been heartbreaking. I wondered about William. Was he taking it well, being supportive, or was he judging her inability as she was?
Soon the doorbell rang. I let Ellis in and we all sat down for dinner. Over the meal, we talked about William’s business, and Papa’s business, and soon, the men asked Ellis what his plans were.
“Well, I just secured a room at the Wagamon, and so I suppose I’ll be looking for a job here. Eventually, we’ll be heading West.”
“I’d be happy to have your help down at the shop,” Papa said. “Business should be picking up now that the summer season is here, but I should have time to train you up a bit.”
My stomach clenched. I knew what Papa was doing. He was trying to get us to stay in town.
“No, thank you, Mr. Hess. You’d be better off finding someone more permanent. We aren’t planning on staying around long enough,” Ellis said, and relief washed over me.
“Nonsense,” Papa said, sternness entering his voice. “You’ll be here for a few months at least. Why not come down Monday with Tish and I’ll show you around.”
The muscles in Ellis’ cheeks began to flex and his jaw locked into place. A low rumble, almost a growl, began in this throat. “No,” he said.
The table was silent, and I was sure that Papa was furious to be spoken to in this manner.
Suddenly, William chimed in, overly boisterous and obviously so. “We are doggone glad to have you back home, Ellis.”
“Doggone glad,” Oliver repeated, grinning, earning him and William a stern look from Mama.
“Sorry, Mama Hess, but we are glad,” William said. “I am just so disappointed that I wasn’t able to join you over there. These old flat feet,” he guffawed.
“Don’t be sorry,” Ellis said flatly, focused on his plate.
“But, truly, I am. Not being able to do my duty was hard for me to face, actually,” William admitted.
Like the first firework on the fourth of July, Ellis unexpectedly exploded. His fork clattered to his plate as he shouted at William, bits of spittle flaying the table. “Hard for you to face? Over there, we faced death every second, watched good men fall flat on their faces in the mud with a bullet through their brain. Those beastly Huns, the gas, the barbed wire… William, you had better kiss those flat feet of yours in thanks for not having to go over there. Hard to face? You don’t know what that even means.”
When he was finished, William sat silent. My eyes were wide and Ivy looked away as if something very interesting was transpiring in the growing dusk outside. Oliver sat still for perhaps the first and last time at the dinner table, just staring at Ellis. Papa was focused on his meal, and cleared his throat loudly. It was Mama whose voice broke the dead air.
“We are all very grateful for your service to our country, Ellis. As I have said before, and will say to anyone who will listen, we couldn’t be more proud of you. I am sure you saw unimaginable things, but you are home now, in the presence of people who love you and hope to call you family. Now, let’s lower our voices and continue our meal. I have made an Orange Feather Cake to welcome you home.” She got up from the table and brought it in, a small mound bedecked with fresh blackberries from the yard. She began cutting it and passing it on plates even though most of our dinner plates were still full.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Molly
Though I had been putting off signing up for a baby class because I dreade
d the drive there—and, admittedly, I enjoyed refusing any of Jocelyn’s suggestions on principle—the idea wouldn’t go away, and gained appeal with Liz’s suggestion. I picked a time that wouldn’t interfere with the naptime schedule I was trying to establish and packed Hayden in the car. He hollered the whole way, as if the car seat were on fire. I reached back to flick the toys attached to the bar of his car seat in vain. Finally, I gave up and just sang to him, hoping the sound of my voice would reach him through his cries.
My nerves were frazzled by the time I arrived, and if it hadn’t meant facing an immediate drive back with him screaming, I would have bailed on the class altogether. I unlatched the car seat and heaved him into the building. Once he could see me, he calmed down a little but still wailed as we entered and I checked in.
“Please take off your shoes,” the lady at the desk said, “We don’t allow outside shoes in the play area. Do you have socks?”
I was wearing sandals, but I had read online that socks were necessary so I fished them out of my bag and waved them at the lady. See, I was prepared, my smile said. I can do it all!
“Wonderful,” she said and showed me where the class would begin in just a few minutes.
The other babies in the waiting room were quiet and happy, their mothers already in their socks, diaper bags neatly stowed in small foot lockers, waiting to go into the play area.
When it was time for class to begin, we all filed in. Primary colors abounded, red slides, blue mats, yellow oversized foam blocks. It was like a padded room for insane babies.
The instructor began singing a welcome song, and I followed the other mommies over to the center mat area. We sat in a circle. Some of the moms sang along with the instructor, their babies lying on their back in front of them, looking at the ceiling, which was the plainest thing in the room. I laid Hayden down, being sure to do what the others did, when the others did.
There were a few more songs, and a puppet, and then the perky instructor called out, “Okay, mommies, time for today’s discussion question! Let’s go around in a circle and say what we like to listen to in the car with baby.”
An Imperfection in the Kitchen Floor Page 17
