Searching for Pemberley

by Mary Lydon Simonsen

  “How's your love life?” he asked with his quirky smile that had gotten him out of more than one jam. Obviously, Sadie had told Bobby about Rob and Michael.

  “Never mind about my love life. How's yours?”

  He answered in almost a whisper. “I'm dating a girl from Southside.” That was no big deal because a lot of people from South Scranton went to St. Joe's, so it was considered to be an extension of Minooka—one with amenities. “Her name is Teresa Mateo.” I let out a whoop. Now, this was a big deal. Because of the high position Bobby's father held in local politics, his mother thought she was better than everyone else. Having her son dating an Eye-tie would damage the family's image.

  “Do you know who gave me my first kiss?” I asked in the same voice he had used.

  “Tommy Gallo.” Tommy had been killed on D-Day, June 6, 1944, while climbing the cliffs of Pointe du Hoc in an attempt to knock out a German pillbox. My final letter from Tommy had been dated June 4th. In it, he had talked about how he couldn't wait for the invasion to start because he was tired of being penned up in holding areas with hundreds of guys in miserable weather. He just wanted it to be over, and for him and thousands of other young Americans, it was.

  “I saw you getting into his car outside Dugan's Diner. So I asked him if he was seeing you, and he said 'yes,' and then he said, 'All of this baloney about Irish girls dating only Irish boys, and the same deal with Italians, is a load of crap. When I get back, I'm going to take Maggie dancing at the Hotel Casey and to hell with anyone who doesn't like it.'” I brought the conversation back to Teresa Mateo because I didn't want to think about how devastated I was when I had heard that Tommy was gone. He was the only one who could have gotten me to move back to Minooka.

  Teresa's family owned a bar on the city line, which was probably where Bobby had met her. She was a beautiful girl: thick black hair and blacker eyes and a very attractive figure. I asked him when he was going to tell his mother. I wanted to know when to leave town.

  “Probably on Saturday,” Bobby said. “Teresa and I have a wedding to go to. I think her mother has figured it out because I've been eating a lot of spaghetti at the bar, but it's going to be a shot out of the blue for Mom. She'll get over it eventually,” he said with a confidence that I doubt he felt. I was happy for him, but I seriously doubted if Mamie Lenahan was going to take this lying down.

  Chapter 43

  BEFORE LEAVING ENGLAND, I received a letter from Rob saying that Ken and he were heading to Miami Beach where they would spend the Christmas holidays. When my mother told me there was a telephone operator on the line, I couldn't think who would be calling me long-distance. To my surprise, it was Rob.

  “Maggie, I just got your letter. How's your aunt?”

  I told him that we had buried her two days earlier, but I assured him that she had lived a full and happy life.

  “God, Maggie, I can't tell you how good it is to hear your voice. I swear, it's like manna from heaven.”

  I knew exactly how he felt because just hearing his soft Western drawl was giving me a much-needed boost. But longdistance phone calls were expensive and, in our family, reserved for emergencies. I told Rob his call was costing him a fortune, and he said, “I don't care. You're worth every dime.” In that case, if he wanted to talk, I'd oblige, so I asked him how his Christmas holidays had been. He said he didn't want to talk about that. He wanted to talk about “us.”

  “I'm flying out to Omaha for a visit with the Monaghans, but after that, I'd like to come and see you.”

  I hadn't been expecting the phone call, and now he wanted to come to Minooka. Feeling very flattered, I told him to come ahead.

  Before hanging up, he said, “I couldn't have a better Christmas present than hearing you're back in the States. I love you, and I'll see you soon.”

  Waiting at the station for Rob's train to come in, I wasn't sure how I would feel when I saw him. It had been three months since we had been together in London. But when I caught sight of him, I felt a burst of happiness. He looked so good in his new suit, and living in a state with lots of sunshine certainly agreed with him.

  Before December 1941, no one would have hugged and kissed in as public a place as Scranton's Lackawanna Station, but since the war, people were used to returning servicemen kissing their loved ones, so I gave Rob a big hug and kiss.

  Walking to the car, he told me he had joined the Air Force Reserves. “I haven't actually reported, but I was able to grab a seat on a flight to an airfield near Philadelphia anyway. As soon as I signed the papers, they told me I could get on any flight that had space available. They're moving planes all over the country, and some are being sold to private contractors. I flew in on a twin-engine job that was used for photo recon that's being sold to a real-estate developer.”

  I asked Rob if he was hungry, and he said he was starved. “There's no in-flight service on these planes,” he said, laughing. After sliding into a rear booth in a West Scranton diner, Rob informed me that he had gone on an interview with Delta Air Lines in Atlanta for the position of flight engineer. The personnel manager who interviewed him was a former B-17 pilot and liked to hire Air Corps vets.

  “I thought you said you didn't like Atlanta.” He also said that I would most definitely not like Atlanta, so why was he acting as if this was good news for me?

  “I wasn't real keen on the idea of staying in Atlanta, but this guy told me not to make up my mind until I had seen the city from Delta's point of view. Since the war, thousands of servicemen who had been stationed in the South went back to look for jobs. It might be hot in Atlanta, but for some guys, it beats shoveling snow in Des Moines.

  “Maggie, this is a great company,” he said, placing his hands over mine. “I could support a family on the salary I'd make. They're building houses left and right, and the apartments are air-cooled—the bedrooms, anyway. What better place to kick off your shoes and cool down on a hot summer's night?” I knew he was flirting with me, but I said nothing and just nodded my head. “They have routes from Atlanta to Chicago, Miami, and New Orleans, but that's just the beginning. Why would anyone want to spend four days on a train when you can get on an airplane and be wherever you want in a matter of hours?” Doing a drum roll on the table, he said, “This is big. Really big. The guy even mentioned possible pilot's training for me. Do you know how exciting it would be to fly a plane where your cargo is a group of passengers instead of bombs? I can do this.”

  His enthusiasm was infectious. Was this what he needed—a challenging but interesting job? It just might be.

  “I have a second interview on January 24th. What I'm thinking is that the regional airlines are going to be popping up all over the country. Once I get a few years under my belt, it's possible I could end up flying for an airline in California. How about Phoenix to Los Angeles? And then we could spend some time up in the High Country in Flagstaff.”

  What did he mean when he said that “we” could spend some time in the High Country? Where was this Rob McAllister when we were together in England?

  I was wondering what my grandfather's reaction would be when he heard Rob's last name. He'd want to know if Rob was one of the “teeving Scots who stole all the land in the north of Ireland from the Irish.” But after Rob explained that he was mostly German with some Swedish and Scots-Irish thrown into the mix, Grandpa had nothing more to say. It was obvious he was suffering from a case of the “dwindles,” and no longer had the energy to argue. Most of his time was spent sleeping in a chair near the stove or in his room.

  Once the dishes were washed and dried, Rob, Sadie, and I walked down to Bobby's station where Marty Walsh, Eddie Sullivan, and Joe Mahady were drinking Cokes. The war had been the defining moment in their lives, and more than three years after VJ Day, it was still a frequent topic of conversation. After they had learned that Rob had been a navigator on a B-17, Eddie started in right away.

  “You got yourself a flyboy, Maggie,” Eddie said. “Cruising up in the clouds while us
dopes in the infantry were down in the mud digging foxholes.”

  Not to be outdone, Marty complained that the Army and the Air Corps had gotten all the glory when it was the Navy and Marines who had beaten the Japs in the Pacific with very little help from the other services. Rob hated this kind of talk. He called them “pissing contests,” like little boys who lined up to see whose stream could reach the farthest.

  “You're both right. Flying in a B-17 meant taking off in the morning, dropping my load, and coming home to some pretty decent grub and the same bed every night. I always admired the guys in the infantry and armor, and I can tell you, I never even gave the Navy a thought. At least if I had to bail out, I'd hit land.”

  This seemed to appease Army and Navy, and Rob closed the deal when he offered to buy a round at Judge's. This was the bar where my father had once done most of his drinking, but since the war, the usual crowd was largely made up of friends of mine. The beer mug had been passed to a new generation.

  After what seemed like hours, Bobby, Sadie, Rob, and I managed to break loose from the “How I Won the War” group and crossed the street to Bobby's house. Sitting in his front parlor, Bobby told Rob that he had been a pilot on a B-26 Marauder, a medium bomber.

  “A plane a day in Tampa Bay,” Rob said. “I was glad when they assigned me to the Fortresses.”

  Bobby slapped his knee. “I was in on those early training flights. I nearly parked one in the bay myself.”

  Both Rob and Bobby had more than their share of close calls, and because of that, they changed the topic to the Chicago Bears versus the New York Giants. Sadie rolled her eyes and indicated she was leaving. I caught up with her and asked what she thought of Rob.

  “Marry him,” she said, walking quickly in the cold. “He's handsome, intelligent, and he doesn't live here. He's perfect for you.”

  I was wondering if Sadie was being facetious when she said: “If you'd give him a chance, you'd probably fall in love with him all over again. If you don't, you'll go back to England, and the only time I'll ever see you is when someone dies.”

  Sadie was starting to cry—something she rarely did. “I don't think you should go back to England. Forget about that other guy.”

  Rob's visit with the Monaghan family had gone so well that he had been invited back to attend Pat's sister's wedding. Before leaving for the airfield to catch a flight to Omaha, Rob and I went to a nice restaurant near the train station. While waiting for our meals to be served, Rob held my hand the entire time.

  “Maggie, I feel I'm finally on the right road. It took much longer than it should have. After Omaha and my interview in Atlanta, I want to come back here. I think it's time that we started planning our future together.” He took both of my hands in his and kissed them, which was exactly what Michael had done when he had asked me to come back to him. Rob noticed the change and asked if something was wrong.

  “No. Nothing's wrong.”

  “What do you say? Can I come back?”

  “I'd be very hurt if you didn't.”

  Chapter 44

  A FEW DAYS AFTER arriving in Omaha, Rob called to say the city had been slammed with a major snowstorm, and there were no flights out. He mentioned he had a chance to talk to Mr. Monaghan, but he would share that with me when he was back in Minooka in a week. A week? How much snow did Omaha get?

  To pick up some extra money, Sadie had arranged for me to work as a temp in her office in downtown Scranton. The job involved phones and typing and little else, which was why the pay was so bad, but I needed money so that I could pay my mother for my room and board.

  I was now into my fourth week of leave, and neither of my parents was asking what my plans were. No comments had been made as to how long my visit would last, nor had they asked if Rob had left for good. Apparently, if no one talked about my returning to England or possibly marrying a Protestant, neither of those things would happen. Who knew what was going to happen? I certainly didn't.

  It was one of my life's greatest ironies that Patrick was the person who helped me to make my decision. From the moment my brother had picked me up at the station, the two of us had assumed our pre-war roles. He made asinine remarks, and instead of ignoring him, I almost always overreacted. It wasn't until Bobby told me that Patrick had a secret girlfriend, Anna Sokoloski, that I finally had something to hold over his head. The next time he started in on me, I told him I knew about Anna.

  “Patrick, I could threaten to tell all your friends about your girlfriend, but I don't want to. In fact, I'd like to meet Anna.” I wanted to meet the girl who could overlook my brother's goofiness.

  “No one's going to meet her,” he said in an angry voice. “She's Polish, and I'm not going to have her be the butt of Polish jokes.”

  “Are you in love with her?”

  “What's it to you?” He was in full defensive mode.

  “What's it to me? If you're serious about Anna, she may end up being my sister-in-law, and I think it's unfair of you to keep her under wraps because of your jerky friends.”

  “You're not going to tell anyone?”

  “No. But in return, I want you to show me some respect. I want the two of us to have an adult relationship, and that means you have to grow up.”

  The conversation immediately bore fruit, so much in fact, that Patrick took me to the tire store where Anna worked so I could meet her. There are two types of Poles: long, lean, and blue-eyed, like Leo, and short, broad, and dark-haired. Anna was the latter and very pretty. She was as short as me, with brown curly hair and gorgeous blue eyes that were almost Oriental, and she had a killer smile. She was also able to lift tires.

  We had a nice lunch together at a nearby diner, and Patrick surprised me by the way he acted around her. He held open the door, put his arm around her in the booth, and spoke to her as one adult to another. They looked at each other in a way that left me with no doubt that my brother and Anna had fallen in love, and I suggested that he introduce her to the family.

  “That Polish/Irish stuff is a lot of bull, Patrick. She'll get less resistance from Mom than Rob did because she's a Catholic. Invite her to dinner.”

  At Sunday dinner, Anna received a warm welcome. My father and Sadie didn't seem to care that she was Polish, my grandfather totally ignored her, and my mother was relieved that Patrick had finally found someone to date. After she left, everyone congratulated my brother on finding such a nice girl.

  The next day, Patrick asked me to meet him for lunch downtown. Sliding into the diner booth, Patrick immediately got to the point. “Listen, I appreciate how nice you were to Anna, so I'm going to return the favor. You should break up with your flyer.”

  If this was just another case of Patrick being a jerk, I was going to haul off and punch him, like Sadie did.

  “I'm being serious here, Maggie. Because of Anna, I'm seeing things different. You know how, before the war, a bunch of us would go to Avoca for barbecue. No one was dating anyone; we were all just hanging out and putting coins in the jukebox and dancing. That's what you and Rob remind me of—two people hanging out together. Don't get me wrong. I like the guy. But I don't want you to end up with some guy just because he's good-looking and has some dough in his pocket. I want you to be head over heels in love. So I'm telling you straight up; Rob ain't the one.”

  Rob got off the train with a bounce in his step. After giving me a chaste kiss because there was a group of nuns in the station, he asked if there was someplace we could go to talk. We drove to my Aunt Marie's house, which would shortly be J.J.'s house. The kitchen was cold because the morning fire had died down. After stoking the coals, I put a kettle on the burner and asked Rob what he was so eager to talk about.

  “Maggie, is there a wedding in our future?”

  Rob had said we were going to make plans, but I didn't think he meant that we would start the discussion within minutes of his arrival. After my conversation with Patrick, I had thought long and hard about whether I wanted to spend the rest of my life wit
h Rob. After seeing him following a three-month absence, I was flooded with fond memories of our time together in England, and I was very touched by his efforts to win me back since coming to Minooka. After a long silence, I finally answered, “Rob, I can't.”

  “That's what I thought you'd say. I think I knew it from the night of the ball at Montclair.”

  After taking the coffee cup out of my hand, he continued, “I drank way too much that night, and when nature called, I went into the bushes. When I came out, guess who was waiting for me? Eva Greene. And she starts making out with me. It was like I had landed on fly paper. When I finally broke free, I heard the band leader announce that there was one more dance. I wanted it to be with you, but by the time I got into the ballroom, you were dancing with Michael.”

  “Rob, I looked for you, but I couldn't find you.” That was the absolute truth. Michael had been paying a lot of attention to me, but I thought the last dance should be with Rob, if for no other reason than common courtesy—"you danced with the one who brung you.”

  “I know,” he said, nodding his head. “But because of Eva, I got there too late. It gave me a chance to watch the two of you together. From that time on, I was pretty sure it was never going to happen for me and you. But then you threw me a curve when you came back to the States.

  “In the few days we've been together, I thought maybe—just maybe—there was still a chance to save this thing. I thought if I told you about my plans you'd see I was ready to make a commitment. You were really happy for me, but you weren't happy for us. Like you said in the Crowells' backyard, that's because there is no 'us.'

  “It wasn't until I got to Omaha that I put it all together. If I'm wrong here, tell me right now.” He looked at me so intently, but I could not say what he wanted to hear. “I didn't think so; I can see it in your face. So now I have something to tell you.