Playing by Heart

by Anne Mateer

  Once I arrived at Fort Riley, I didn’t have time to think. I received my uniform, a blanket, even underwear, all government issue. A shaving kit and some hard tack. A rifle and bayonet, as well.

  My waking hours belonged to the army. And that was fine by me. Better to put those I’d left behind out of mind. Focus on the task at hand. Most days, that worked. Other times, like during guard duty or kitchen duty, my mind drifted home. I tried to focus those thoughts on Ma, but a pair of dark, serious eyes intruded far too often and stayed far too long. I’d come to Fort Riley hoping to escape all my feelings for Lula. I hadn’t imagined they’d intensify.

  My first seven-day pass came four weeks after my arrival. Clay hadn’t used his to come home, and Ma had felt the slight. Besides, Ma’s last letter had mentioned Lula was still in town. Could I find the courage to admit my love to her? If not, how would I find the strength to do what had to be done in the trenches?

  I plunked down my money and boarded the train to Oklahoma.

  41

  LULA

  “Why don’t you sit down and play something? You’re as unsettled as Davina tonight.” Jewel cradled the squalling baby in her arms and swung her back and forth. I fought down a sob, wishing someone would attempt to soothe my irascible spirit. But no remedy would suffice.

  I wandered the small room, adjusting knickknacks, picking lint from the rug, straightening the crocheted doilies that covered every surface. Five weeks since I’d been fired. Five weeks without a paycheck. At least Don and Janice had believed me instead of the school board. They’d each offered to help with the bills for a while, and Bo was providing money, as well.

  But what was I to do now? I wouldn’t be able to get another teaching job, so more schooling would do me no good. Bo would take on a family of six in the near future. He didn’t need a spinster sister-in-law added to that. Janice and Don had full households, as well. And Daddy—we all agreed not to tell Daddy. As the light of his life faded with each passing day, it seemed best to let him go in peace, believing I would return to the university and fulfill our dream. His dream.

  At least Pastor Reynolds had kept me on as church pianist, in spite of the murmured dissent. But playing in front of the congregation had become a trial of my will again instead of a pleasure.

  I trailed a finger across the top of Jewel’s piano but couldn’t settle at the keys. The curtains billowed out with the spring breeze and twilight bathed the room in a gentle glow. JC turned on the gramophone. The kids sang and danced, no doubt remembering times when their daddy had joined them. But Bo would make new memories with them now, help ease the pain of missing Davy. I prayed his quiet love would hold the same healing balm for Jewel.

  My sister smiled at me from the sofa, but her eyes remained sad. “Chet leaves again in the morning, you know.”

  I plopped down beside her, rubbed the fuzz on Davina’s head, and ignored her words.

  “You never told him, did you?”

  Fire burst into my cheeks as I glanced up at her, thankful for the music and the kids’ commotion to cover our conversation. “Tell who what?”

  “Chet. You let him go away to the army without telling him you cared.”

  A stray thread on the sofa caught my attention. I picked at it, tried to break it at the base. But it wouldn’t budge. I’d given myself to Chet’s game of basketball, to his kiss, to his mother’s safety without thought of my own. In return, he gave me Fruity Lu. Unable to finish out the year of school. Unable to continue her education. He hadn’t spoken to me since the day Mr. Morrison and Principal Gray had come to Jewel’s house.

  Davina’s mewl turned to hiccups. I eased her out of Jewel’s arms and cuddled my niece close, her head resting in the crook where my neck met my shoulder.

  If only I’d let him back in the house. If only he’d later sought me out to apologize. “I guess he couldn’t see how I felt—”

  Jewel snorted, then giggled, then shook with laughter. “If I’d waited until Davy ‘saw how I felt,’ I’d still be a spinster waiting for him to propose.”

  My eyes stretched wide.

  “Oh, Lula! I loved that man to distraction, but he wouldn’t have recognized it unless I’d helped him along a bit.”

  My mouth dropped open. “You mean you flirted?”

  Jewel shrugged, her eyes downcast. “Some might call it that, but I was never coy or evasive. I simply put myself in his path and let him know he had my heart. Not in words, you understand. In a look. A touch of the hand. A preference for his company over that of my girlfriends.”

  I poked my finger in Davina’s mouth to quiet her. I’d assumed Davy had simply fallen for Jewel, declared his love, and she’d responded. This information turned everything on its head. “But you didn’t do all that with Bo.”

  Her expression softened, almost as if warding off pain. “No, it was different with Bo. He knew my heart before I did.” Pink scattered across her cheeks before her arm cradled my shoulders as gently as she’d cradled Davina. “Don’t miss this, Lula. Not even for the satisfaction of saving your pride.”

  I’d seen Miss Morrison wave a letter he’d written her from camp a couple of weeks ago. Likely he’d seen her while he was home. The humiliation still stung. I had no job, no scholarship, no school money. If I demonstrated my feelings for him now, would he think my affections were tied to desperation? Would he once again try to do the honorable thing without attention to his heart? If a dutiful marriage was my most hopeful future, I’d take my chances on being alone.

  I let Trula swing me in a circle to “Livery Stable Blues,” losing myself in the music I’d once disdained. If these months had taught me anything it was that music—all music—fed my soul in a way nothing else did. Not even numbers. At least I’d always have that, even if I had nothing else.

  A banging at the front door drew Jewel into the hall. I didn’t think Bo’d get another pass for a week or so, but he had a way of sweet-talking his superior officers to get leave.

  “Lula?” Jewel called. I ceased spinning, trying to catch my breath and still the dizziness, holding together the knot of hair at the nape of my neck that threatened to unfurl in a mass of tangles down my back.

  Chet stepped into the room, clad in khaki, a wide-brimmed hat beneath one arm. I reached for the back of a chair.

  “Come, children. We’ll have some bread and butter in the kitchen.” Jewel shooed her brood away, leaving the room void of distraction, except for the scratch of the needle at the end of the recording.

  My eyes followed Chet across the room as he silenced the noise. He looked different. Taller somehow. More serious, if possible.

  He took my hand and led me to the sofa. My heart drummed behind my chest as the temperature in the room rose to midsummer. I wanted a fan, a sliver of ice, a glass of tea. His presence held me motionless and sent every thought fleeing from my head. I couldn’t even recall Jewel’s advice.

  He cleared his throat, studied my fingers resting against his palm. “How are you, Lula?”

  I wet my lips. “Fine. And you?” My voice squeaked a little. I winced.

  The quiet tick-tock of the mantel clock filled the room. He cleared his throat again. “I came home on a seven-day pass.” He looked at me as if needing an answer.

  I swallowed, thrashed about in my mind for something to say. “That’s nice.”

  His gaze returned to my hand, his expression squeezing and pinching. And then the realization hit: He was shipping out. His mother would be alone. It troubled him.

  Louise and I had come to understand each other as she sat listening to my reluctant performances, even before I realized who she was. Over the weeks Chet had been gone, I’d been dropping by the boardinghouse and escorting her to my practices at the church. It had seemed to assuage some of her loneliness, some of her fear. Likely Chet wanted to know if I’d continue to care for his mother. Which, of course, I would. Even if he couldn’t return my feelings for him, I could soften his one regret.

  I crad
led his hand between both of mine. “You don’t have to worry about your mother while you’re gone. I’ll watch out for her.”

  On Christ the solid rock I stand, all other ground is sinking sand.

  That Rock would hold me firm, even if everything else my heart desired washed away in the storm.

  42

  CHET

  My head jerked up. I stared at Lula as if seeing her for the first time. And perhaps I was. I’d come to offer her my heart. Haltingly. Fearfully. Instead, she’d seen my deepest need and met it, without reservation or condition.

  Ma was right. I’d never find another girl like Lula. I could shut away my feelings for her until I returned, safe and sound, from the Western Front, or I could trust that God would hold us secure.

  Her slender fingers still covered my hand, making no move to let go. I needed to see those strong hands in motion, hear what they would say to my heart. I cleared my throat. “Play for me once more?”

  Her delicate eyebrows dipped as she frowned. But she rose, set herself at the piano, and ran through a quick chorus of something. It didn’t matter. I simply needed her music to give me courage.

  I stood at the piano, facing her, as her hands stilled. “I don’t want to go,” I said.

  Her dark eyes glistened before her gaze slid to the floor near my feet and her hands rested in her lap. “I know. But you’ll be fine. And so will your mother, and even Blaze. I’ll keep after him until graduation.” Her voice hitched on the final word.

  My fingers found the soft skin beneath her chin. I guided her head up, willing her eyes to meet mine. “I’m not worried about all of them. I don’t want to leave you.”

  Her lips parted in a gasp. The pools in her eyes expanded, overflowed. I pulled her to her feet, held her face between my hands, caught the trails of tears with my thumbs. “I’m sorry. I should have sought you out after . . . after Principal Gray came. I should have made them see it was all my fault. I told myself you’d never want to see me again. Can you forgive me for being a coward?”

  Her head dipped forward. I pulled her closer, my face inches from hers. “I know I did this wrong the first time. I was thoughtless and frantic and just . . . dumb.”

  Her mouth curved in a slow grin as she leaned her cheek into my hand, then turned her face until her lips met my palm. I sucked in air but couldn’t find my voice.

  “I can’t bear to see you leave, and yet you must go, mustn’t you?” She brushed my cheek with her fingertips, sending bolts of electricity from my head to my toes.

  I smoothed her silky hair away from her face, memorized the color of her eyes, the slope of her nose, the shape of her mouth. The smooth, round jaw. Dark eyebrows and hair against ivory skin. I dropped to one knee. “Could you, Lula? Would you marry me?”

  Her hand covered her mouth. My heart sank. Had I done it wrong again? But then she looked at me, her eyes soft with understanding. “Oh, Chet. I never thought you’d ask again. Yes, I’ll marry you!”

  I locked her tight in my arms, her tears wetting the front of my uniform.

  Clamoring whispers, loud hushes. I peered over Lula’s shoulder. Jewel peeked into the room, Russell on her hip. Her eyebrows arched in question. I nudged Lula. She turned, flew from my side into the arms of her sister.

  Moments later, the room teemed with people. Jewel and the children. Ma, hustling in behind them, folding Lula into her embrace. Even Blaze and Nannie, hands clasped, faces bright.

  Those who loved us, who loved one another, all gathered around. Ma and I had lost both Pa and Clay, but oh, how much God had given to us in return.

  The next morning, Lula and I stood on the train platform, a bit of a chill in the early April morning. Smoke puffed in small clouds from the stack on the train’s engine. When the whistle blew, we would have to say good-bye.

  Ma stood rigid, but calm, as if willing herself not to cry. Jewel tried to keep the children from darting onto the tracks. Nannie flitted from person to person, Blaze in tow, enjoying the drama, I supposed. And Lula clung to my hand, pressed close to my side.

  I looked down at our intertwined fingers. “I’m sure someone will report this to Principal Gray,” I said with mock severity. As if any more damage could be done. And yet, without all the adversity, maybe Lula and I wouldn’t be standing like this at all. We’d still be separate, each pining for the thing we thought out of reach.

  Lula glanced across the platform and tightened her grip.

  Principal Gray strode toward us. “Chet. Miss Bowman.” His gaze wandered to our clasped hands and he grinned. “We’ll miss you, Chet. I’ll miss you. But maybe we’ll have the Huns put in their place in time for you to lead our basketball team next season.”

  “We can certainly pray so.” I shook his hand.

  He cleared his throat and turned his attention to Lula. “Miss Bowman, I’m glad you’re here, too. I’ve talked to the school board and explained to them that I’m in a precarious position with so many men joining up. I need a full staff next year. A staff of good, experienced teachers. It took some talking, but they finally listened. And understood.”

  Lula lifted her chin. “What are you saying, Principal Gray? Are you offering me my job back?”

  “Not exactly.”

  Lula seemed to shrivel. I wanted to slug the man. “Now look here—”

  Principal Gray held up his hands and chuckled. “Hold your horses, son. I said I wasn’t offering her her job back. Instead, I’m offering her yours.”

  “My job?” I swung my head toward Lula. Her mouth hung open. I chuckled. Who knew that by leaving I’d give her exactly what she’d wanted all along? At least in part.

  “Yes, your job. Until you return from doing your duty.”

  Lula bit her lip and looked at me. I nodded. She dipped her head in Principal Gray’s direction. “I’d be more than happy to step into Chet—Mr. Vaughn’s place.”

  Principal Gray’s eyebrows lowered playfully. “As long as you can assure us you will stick to the terms of your contract, of course.”

  Lula grinned and pressed her shoulder into mine. “As soon as my betrothed boards this train, there will be no other men in my life, Mr. Gray. Except my nephews, of course. And my brother-in-law to be. And Blaze Clifton, when he needs help with mathematics.”

  Principal Gray’s laughter rang in the morning air. He slapped me on the shoulder. I joined the merriment.

  “Miss Bowman, that is just the answer I’ll give to anyone who questions your situation, for I would sorely hate to lose two good teachers at once.”

  “Thank you, sir.” Lula rested her cheek against my arm as the train whistle ended the conversation.

  Principal Gray shook my hand again and walked away. I hugged Ma, Jewel, and the children.

  Blaze mumbled good-bye, hands in his pockets, eyes on the ground.

  I clapped him on the shoulder. “I’m counting on you, Blaze.”

  He looked at me.

  I leaned in. “I expect you’ll keep an eye on Ma and Miss Bowman. And I’ll see your diploma when I get back.”

  He grinned and saluted. “Yes, sir.”

  The iron horse behind us belched steam. I pulled Lula away from the others.

  “Don’t say good-bye,” she whispered. “I can’t bear it.”

  “I’ll be back before you know it. Until then, I expect you’ll hold your own.”

  She pressed her forehead to my chest, then raised her face to mine. I rubbed my thumb across her damp cheek.

  “I love you, Chet Vaughn. Come home to me soon.”

  I leaned toward her, the wide, flat brim of my campaign hat shielding us from the view of the world.

  Epilogue

  LULA

  The rubber soles of boys’ shoes slid on the wood floor, providing high-pitched squeaks to balance out the bass-clef thud of the basketball on the ground. They took some getting used to, these new Converse All Stars. But Felix and the other boys insisted the canvas sneakers that rose over their ankles helped their game.
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  A whistle shrieked. The referee called a foul, declaring a free trial for goal. William, a new student, stepped to the free throw line. He rarely missed, often giving us an edge.

  Play resumed. With little to do on the bench, my gaze roamed the room, and my heart swelled. Despite the fact that we were no longer promising to buy war bonds with the price of admission, or that a new gym would be built if the team delivered an undefeated season, the town of Dunn had embraced basketball like a lover back from war. The stands were packed, and the school board had been besieged with requests to see the plan for the new gymnasium, folks wanting it to be a structure that rivaled the best the state of Oklahoma currently had to offer.

  Brian Giles smiled at me from the bleachers, Bitsy nestled beneath his arm, a small bulge showing at her belly. He’d been sent home with a limp in the summer of 1918, not long after Chet shipped out for Europe. He’d married Bitsy a month later, and when the school year began, he’d resumed coaching the girls’ basketball team.

  I’d tried to insist he take the boys’ program instead, but he and Principal Gray wouldn’t hear of it. “You’re the one the boys want,” they both told me.

  I leaned back against the wall and sighed at the sight of Bo and JC sitting together, both intent on the game and comfortable with each other. With a bit of cajoling, Bo had managed to stay at Fort Sill to train troops rather than march into France with them.

  A flash of khaki in the crowd quickened my pulse and pulled me from my repose. Then I remembered Chet wouldn’t come home in uniform. I leaned forward, elbows on my knees. His company would arrive in the States soon. He’d be cashed out and on his way home. “I won’t take the time to write,” he’d told me. “I just want to get on my way.”

  My lips twitched in amusement as the boys executed the play Blaze had devised—a fake to the right wing while the left wing ran beneath the basket, took the ball, and shot.