“I do. I saw a photo of the sweetest-looking golden retriever, and it just feels like it might be right.”
“Aren’t those fairly large dogs?”
Caroline nodded. “Do you think it’s a mistake?”
“I don’t know.” Janie looked around the small yard and tried to imagine a big, rambunctious dog running around. Hopefully he wouldn’t mess the place up.
“Morgan, that’s the owner, she said he’s used to being in the house and that he’s really good and doesn’t have any bad habits. He’s about three years old, so it’s not like he’ll need to be trained.”
“Why’s she getting rid of him?”
Caroline explained about Morgan’s failed marriage and the army, and the more Caroline talked, the more Janie thought maybe it actually did make sense. Caroline seemed to be genuinely excited about it.
“You seem to really want this,” she told Caroline.
“I really do. I told Morgan that I’d come check him out tomorrow.” Caroline looked hopefully at Janie. “You don’t happen to be free around ten in the morning, do you?”
“I told Victor that I’d drive up with him to visit Ben at college. It’s parents’ weekend.”
“Victor invited you to go with him to parents’ weekend?” Caroline’s brows arched.
Janie just nodded. She hadn’t meant to mention this to any of her friends.
“Does that mean you guys are more serious than I realized?”
“I think Victor just wants some company. It’s a long drive.”
Caroline pointed to Janie’s left hand. “I noticed that something is missing.”
Janie stared down at her ring finger. It did look bare. “I actually lost my ring working on your yard,” she explained.
“You lost your ring?” Caroline looked shocked. “I feel so terrible, can’t we—”
“I lost it, and then I found it again,” Janie clarified.
“Thank goodness.” Caroline sighed. “Because, seriously, that’s quite some ring. I have to admit I’ve admired it a time or two. So where is it?”
“Marley suggested I put it in a safe place.” Janie rubbed her ring finger.
“Absolutely.” Caroline peered curiously at Janie now. “So do you plan to leave it in a safe place … indefinitely?”
Janie forced a smile. “Maybe it’s time.”
Caroline nodded. “Yes. It seems like it might be. Do you think Victor will notice?”
Janie considered this. “You mean, like will he think it’s a hint?” She frowned. “I don’t want him to think I’m—”
“No, he probably won’t think that. I bet he’ll just be relieved. Some widows take forever to get over a loss. Not that I’m saying you’re over it.” Caroline looked embarrassed. “Wow, I really have a way with words, don’t I?”
“I know what you mean.”
“Anyway, I think Victor will appreciate it.”
“This doesn’t mean we’re really serious,” Janie said. “I’m not ready for anything really serious. I think it simply means I’m open … you know … to the possibilities.” Janie really wanted to change the subject now. “How about you, Caroline? Any word from Mitch?”
“I get an occasional email, but it’s always just a brief hello. He sounds pretty busy over there.”
“What about your other admirer? Adam Fowler? Have you heard from him lately?”
Caroline chuckled. “Oh, yeah, Adam calls fairly regularly. I wouldn’t be surprised if he called tonight, but I turned my cell phone off.”
“So do you see that going anywhere?” Janie was still just trying to keep the conversation away from her relationship with Victor.
“No, I don’t think so, but I do enjoy chatting with him.” She grinned. “I have a younger man too.”
“You have another guy?” Janie blinked. That Caroline, still stringing them along.
“I met him at the Alzheimer’s support group. Although he stood me up today. I hope his dad isn’t having a problem. Anyway, his name is Brent and he’s a screenwriter.”
“A successful screenwriter?”
“Yes. If only he were about twenty years older.” Caroline made a dreamy sigh.
“How old is he?”
“Thirty-four.”
“Yikes. He could be your son.”
“Thanks for that reminder. Anyway, we’re just friends, although I suspect he thinks I’m younger than I am.” She smiled in a catty sort of way. “At least I hope he does.”
“I’m sure he does,” Janie assured her. “You can easily pass for forty, maybe even late thirties on a good day.”
“In that case, Brent would be fair game.”
“Fair game?” Janie imagined Caroline hunting the young man down with a spear.
“I used to have a seven-year rule. I would date younger guys, but not anyone more than seven years my junior. See, if I were forty—or passing for forty—that would make Brent just six years younger.”
“You mean if you were forty. It’s not like you can turn back the clock, Caroline, even if you do look younger. Our age will eventually catch up with us.”
“I guess.”
“Sorry. I didn’t mean to burst your bubble.”
“I know.” Caroline looked slightly crushed. “I suppose I still suffer from delusions of youth.”
Janie laughed. “We should all stay young at heart, Caroline.”
“Hey, speaking of staying young, don’t you have a birthday coming up?”
Janie was surprised that Caroline remembered this. “I was trying not to think about that,” she admitted.
“When is it?” Caroline pressed. “I remember it was the first week of October, because I always used to be jealous when you turned a year older than us so early in the school year.”
“Now no one wants to get older.”
“So, really, Janie, when is it?”
Janie wasn’t sure she wanted to say.
“Come on,” Caroline urged.
“Okay, it’s Sunday.”
“Sunday?” Caroline’s eyes lit up. “You’ll be fifty-four on Sunday?”
Janie nodded. “Thanks for reminding me.”
“Does Victor know?”
Janie firmly shook her head. “And that’s how I plan to keep it.”
Caroline seemed disappointed. “That’s no fun.”
“It’s just the way I am,” Janie said gently. “I’ve always disliked attention on my birthday.”
“Why?”
Janie thought about that. “Well, probably because it was the same day as my parents’ anniversary, and that always seemed to create conflict when I was growing up. My dad usually forgot to get my mom anything, and she’d be sad, and then I’d feel guilty if anyone remembered me on my birthday.”
“That’s so sad.”
“And weird. It’s like I thought it was my fault my parents weren’t celebrating their anniversary. Like I was personally responsible for all their marital dysfunction.”
“Trust me, I totally understand. I used to feel guilty about all kinds of things related to my parents. Kids are like that. They blame themselves for things they can’t control.”
“Anyway, birthdays don’t mean a lot to me, and I’d appreciate it if you kept mine to yourself.” Janie leaned forward and looked intently into Caroline’s eyes. “Okay?”
Caroline seemed reluctant, but she nodded. “Okay.”
“Thanks. Now, as lovely as this evening has been, I suppose I should head for home.”
First, Janie helped her take the dishes and things into the kitchen. They were both very quiet so as not to disturb Caroline’s mom. As Janie said good-bye, she couldn’t help but observe the striking contrast between the dismal interior and the renovated backyard
. But doing an inside makeover was probably not even a remote possibility. Janie hugged Caroline and wished her good luck with her dog decision.
A few minutes later, Janie pulled into her own driveway and noticed, not for the first time, how similar her house and Caroline’s looked from the outside. Same era, basic ranch style, one story, small front yard.… Once Janie got inside the house, though, everything was different. Thanks to Mario’s tile work, Janie’s renovations were nearly complete. Next week, she planned to move the rest of her belongings in. She walked from room to room, turning on the lights and wondering how she would arrange the furniture and if she would require Bonnie’s help again. She hoped not.
Finally, Janie stopped in the room she planned to use as her home office—the same room her dad had used for his office when she was a kid, which was why she’d left his old rolltop desk pushed up against one wall. Looking at the piece now, she wasn’t too sure she wanted to keep it. It was an attractive antique, but it just wasn’t her style—plus it was a bit bulky and awkward. She sat in the old leather chair, listening to the familiar squeak as she rolled it into place. Then, for no particular reason, she pulled open a side drawer. She hadn’t taken the time to empty the desk, thinking she might need a shredder to properly dispose of the old papers. Neatly hanging in the drawer were the usual file folders of paperwork. She thumbed through the old things that her dad once thought were important: information about the house, outdated insurance policies, ancient appliance warranties, and the usual kinds of papers that rendered themselves generally worthless over the passing of time.
All of the important papers—deeds, titles, bonds—had been stored in a safe-deposit box, which was also in Janie’s name. Everything in this desk was probably just trash, and yet it had once been her dad’s treasure.
Janie remembered being a child and feeling like an intruder if she stepped even one foot into her dad’s office. Everything in this room, and most of the rest of her father’s life, was pretty much off-limits to her. It was as if her father assumed that Janie, being a silly child, would come into his space and wreak havoc. She’d always assumed that was the result of having older parents. They were just stodgy.
She opened another drawer then paused, looking over her shoulder as if she expected to see her father’s stern face about to scold her for getting into his private things. But no one was there. This too was a file drawer, but unlike the other drawer, it had no hanging folders. Instead, a stack of old hunting magazines filled the bottom. She pulled the top one out and studied the image of a bull elk, then looked at the date. September 1964. She carefully pulled out the other magazines, each one older than the previous and going clear back to the late forties. They were probably collectible. She set the stack on the floor.
Next in the deep drawer was an old candy box tied securely with string. She lifted it up and could tell by the weight that it contained papers. Curious as to the contents, she searched the desk until she found a pair of rusty scissors and used them to cut the string. She removed the lid to discover the box was full of musty old letters and what looked like a bundle of yellowed telegrams, or what had commonly been called V-mail during World War II.
Janie knew that her dad had been in the war. Not that anyone had ever said as much, because it was a taboo topic in their house. But she was sure she’d heard it mentioned. In some of her friends’ homes, war memorabilia was proudly displayed on shelves and mantels. In her house, however, no one ever would have guessed that her father had served. Janie had always wondered if it was because of something shameful. She even suspected he had received a dishonorable discharge, perhaps for desertion. Janie had often felt her dad was a bit cowardly. Oh, she had nothing to base these assumptions on, but as a child, she had the feeling that something bad had happened. That seemed the most plausible reason for the stoic silence.
Most of the correspondence seemed to have been between her parents during the war years. She organized the letters chronologically and began reading them in order. They started out stateside while her parents were in college, then moved on to when her dad had been stationed with the Army Air Force in Florida, and eventually switched over to V-mail while he was in Europe. To her surprise, the exchanges were actually very sweet and sounded heartfelt. It was obvious—in a somewhat shocking way—that her parents had at one time been very much in love.
She pulled out a piece of blank paper and a pencil so that she could create a timeline in regard to her parents’ relationship. Feeling like a detective, she discovered that they’d met in college in the fall of 1941. Her dad, then twenty-one, had been in his third year at Portland State, and her mom had been in her second year at the teachers college in Corvallis. It seemed that mutual friends had introduced them, and it had been love at first sight.
Their love seemed to intensify in December of 1941, because following the drama of Pearl Harbor, they became engaged at Christmas. But they continued attending college in separate towns. Janie was almost embarrassed to read some of the early letters. Their love was so open and candid and youthful—so sweet and unspoiled—Janie could hardly believe that her parents had actually written those words.
There was also the serious talk of the war in the letters. Her mom’s older brother, Howard, had gone off to serve in the Pacific, and it was obvious that her mom was both proud of and worried for him.
In the summer following his college graduation, her dad decided to enlist in the Army Air Force. Her mom’s response was surprisingly supportive, even saying how handsome he would look in uniform and how proud she’d be to be a military wife. A small wedding was planned in October of 1942, just two weeks before her dad was scheduled to go overseas.
The tone of the letters and V-mail remained sweet, and it was clear the young couple was desperately in love. But with each new letter, Janie could tell that something in her dad was changing. Not necessarily his love for his wife, but perhaps his love of life and his worldview in general. His tone grew increasingly sad and slightly jaded. How could it not?
The V-mail letters abruptly ended in late May of 1944, and Janie knew enough of history to know this was shortly before D-day. Disappointed, Janie looked back in the drawer and was surprised to see a thick manila folder on the bottom, also tied securely with string. In this folder, she found an official telegram informing her mother that her husband was missing in action and possibly a prisoner of war. The other correspondence, some from military friends and some from state officials, eventually confirmed that her dad’s plane had been shot down over Germany and the survivors captured.
Janie tried to grasp this. Her dad had been shot down, captured, and imprisoned? And no one had ever said a word about it?
Feeling something else in the legal-sized manila envelope, she extracted several small parcels wrapped in tissue paper. She unwrapped them to discover they were medals. Although she was no expert on medals, she suspected they were important ones. Why were they wrapped in tissue and stuffed into the bottom of a drawer?
Weary and confused, Janie carefully straightened up the old letters, arranging them neatly on the surface of her father’s desk so that she could continue her exploration on another day. Then she reverently laid the medals on top and slid the rolltop closed with a thud. She had the startling sense that she’d been wrong about a number of things concerning her father. For the first time in her life, she wondered if she might not owe him an apology.
Chapter 23
Abby
As Abby pulled the car up in front of Caroline’s house on Saturday morning, she was still feeling a little uneasy. Not that she didn’t want to help Caroline, because she absolutely did, but being alone with Mrs. McCann was a bit unsettling. What would she do if the old woman stripped off her clothes and insisted on going for a stroll through the neighborhood? Was Abby supposed to physically restrain her? And, if so, how? Abby wasn’t even on the porch when Caroline stepped out the front door a
nd quietly explained that her mom had just dozed off in her recliner.
“Mom’s been up since around five thirty this morning, so I think she’s due for a fairly long snooze,” Caroline whispered as she slipped the strap of her bag over her shoulder.
“Okay.” Abby nodded, trying to appear more confident than she felt.
“I’ve got my phone, and I’ll be less than a mile away. If you need me, just call.”
“Don’t worry.” Abby forced a smile. “We’ll be just fine.”
Caroline hugged her. “Thank you so much. I’ll make it as quick as I can.”
Abby waved, then quietly stepped into the house. She could hear the TV, a bit loud it seemed, but she was not going to touch it for fear of waking the old woman. Instead she tiptoed into the kitchen and just stood there and looked around. Everything about this place was so depressing. She wondered how Caroline could stand it and, once again, was very thankful that Janie had taken on the backyard project. Abby peeked out the window over the sink to see that Caroline’s “wonderland” looked just as good as it had yesterday. If Abby knew where the baby monitor was, she’d go out there and sit. As it was, she figured she better stay close by.
To pass the time, and because it simply came naturally, she decided to attack some cleaning. Thanks to the clutter, which was everywhere, this was a bit of a challenge, and after scrubbing the sink and what she could reach of the worn Formica countertops, she eventually gave up. Too bad Caroline couldn’t clear this place out too. Perhaps with a bulldozer. She had told Abby that her mom threw fits anytime she saw anyone touching or removing anything, including the trash. However, Abby wondered if Mrs. McCann would notice if she was asleep when it happened. Just the same, Abby wasn’t ready to be the one caught in the act.
Abby was trying not to think about the offer she and Janie had made on the house, or about how badly she wanted to get to work on creating a state-of-the-art bed-and-breakfast. In her effort to “let go and let God,” she had prayed about the whole thing while having a little beach walk this morning, and she was determined not to obsess over it now. Monday was only two days away. She could wait.
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