Christmas Once Again

by Jina Bacarr

  I spin around so quickly I nearly lose my balance, not to mention dying of embarrassment.

  Freddie.

  I look up into my admirer’s face and see a soldier intent on his mission. Me. How can I explain his boldness to Jeff? I don’t dare look in his direction, imagining him storming over here and dragging me away. The younger me would find it very romantic having two men vying for my attention, but I’m too wise not to know such goings-on can have dire consequences. Which means I have to choose between them. Whatever I do, I can’t win.

  Oh, Lord, if there’s ever a moment I want to disappear in a poof of smoke, this is it. My heart races so fast, I can’t get the words out to turn Freddie down. I can’t say no to a boy who will never dance again after the war. I can’t tell Jeff that. I’ll have to find another way to explain.

  ‘C’mon, beautiful,’ Freddie insists, pulling me out onto the dancefloor before I can protest. ‘Let’s take a spin around the floor.’ He leans down and whispers in my ear, ‘Then I’ve got a surprise for you.’

  ‘One dance, Freddie, that’s all,’ I mutter under my breath, not daring to breathe when he takes me in his arms and we slow dance to a popular song. His hands feel so strange holding me, but I can’t pull away without causing a scene. I feel the hard stares following us and God help me, is Jeff seeing this? Or has he left, not believing his Jelly Girl is dancing with another fellow?

  How am I going to explain to Jeff why his girl went off with a soldier?

  This is not going well. I can’t finish my dance with Freddie. I pull him off to the side, but he takes my actions as meaning something different.

  ‘You sure know how to send a soldier off to war.’ He nuzzles my ear, his lips brushing my cheek.

  ‘Please, Freddie, you’ve got me all wrong.’ I’m dying by inches. ‘I’m – I’m engaged.’

  ‘I know,’ he says, exhaling in a voice so low I barely hear him. Like he isn’t surprised.

  ‘You do?’

  ‘What other reason is there for resisting me, Freddie G. Baker, the best damn photographer in the US Army?’ His words are carefree, but he watches me with a silent pain clouding his eyes. He leans closer and whispers in my ear, ‘I wish it were me.’

  ‘Oh, Freddie, you’ll never change, will you?’

  ‘Maybe I have.’ His voice is low, repentant.

  I look closer. It’s true. He isn’t the same boy I knew in high school. I sense a deep, emotional stabbing at his heart, dug deep in him by what he’s seen. He tries to hide the scars, but they’re there in the tightness around his mouth, the deep sorrow clouding his eyes. I didn’t see them the other day at the studio. I was too concerned with my pinup debut. I do now and it scratches away at my psyche, urging me to give this boy a fighting chance.

  Will it hurt to help a friend one more time?

  ‘Keep your head down over there in the woods.’ I choose my words with care. ‘In the Ardennes. Watch your back and stay alert so you don’t get caught in the crossfire. You don’t want the enemy sneaking up on you on when you’re trying to get the shot. Promise?’

  He gives me a wide-eyed stare. ‘Sure, Kate, that’s swell of you to give a guy a break.’ Then he chuckles, not sure what to make of it. ‘Anything for my pinup girl.’

  He leads me back to the Victory Booth, but it isn’t a kiss he wants. He grabs a rolled up poster he left with Helen, unfurls it, and then holds it up for everyone to see. ‘Drumroll, please!’ he announces to the crowd hovering around him on the dancefloor. ‘May I present Posey Creek’s own pinup girl. Kate Arden, Miss Christmas Wrap.’

  My hand flies to my mouth when I see the three by four foot poster of me sitting atop the big Christmas box. Is that me? Freddie caught me smiling, my eyes dancing, but it’s the glamour of wartime pinups he captures so well with his camera. Lights and shadows that hide every flaw and yet show off the curve of my body in such a way there’s an innocence in the sexy pose.

  The girl next door. That girl is me.

  I don’t think my younger self could have pulled it off. The sway of the body, the lift of the chin, chest jutting out. I learned more than I thought at those photoshoots. In a funny, patriotic way, I’m proud to be Miss Christmas Wrap. Showing everybody they can have decorated packages for the holiday even if they don’t have any paper wrap. The big question is, what will everybody think?

  ‘Oh, Kate, you look beautiful,’ Lucy says, holding on to her Marine as she rushes over to me. ’Like something out of a dream.’

  The Marine lets out a low, wolf-whistle. ‘Your sister is a real knockout.’

  ‘What about me?’ she says, miffed, but I see the pride in her eyes when she sneaks a peek at me, like she’s not really jealous.

  ‘Are you kidding?’ He squeezes her hand. ‘I’m the envy of every guy here. C’mon, baby, let’s dance.’

  I see the stars in Lucy’s eyes and for once, she isn’t competing with me. I’m competing with me. My poster, that is. It’s the talk of the dance. I find the whispers and giggles amusing, but I should have known it wouldn’t take Mrs Widget long to head up a committee of one to take it down. She makes it clear to anyone who will listen she disapproves of the poster.

  I ask for the music to be lowered and go into my ‘save the Christmas poster’ speech. ‘President Roosevelt started the USO, United Service Organizations, to give servicemen and women wholesome entertainment and a reminder of home,’ I say in a clear, steady voice. ’That girl on the poster isn’t me, Mrs Widget, she represents every soldier’s sweetheart. Now, are you telling me you’d go against the President’s wishes by taking it down? A poster that encourages all of us to save paper during this holiday season?’

  ‘Well, I never…’ she blurts out indignantly.

  My impulsive speech doesn’t go unnoticed by the onlookers and dancefloor couples who gather in closer to see what the commotion is all about. My patriotic plea hits a nerve and the servicemen and townsfolk start cheering and whistling.

  Mrs Widget whisks past Ma without saying a word. My mother smiles. Pop doesn’t look too happy about the poster until Ma says, ‘It reminds the boys what they’re fighting for.’ Even Junior is proud and keeps telling everyone I’m his sister. Helen begs me to help her in the Victory Booth, seeing how I’m surrounded by soldiers, sailors, and Marines, all wanting to dance with me or buy a War Bond so they can get a kiss. I let Helen do the kissing for me. I have to admit, to this thirty-one year old woman, it’s flattering.

  Until I see Jeff pushing through the crowd. There’s a heated air of wildness about the way he moves. He shoves aside his usual controlled demeanor and replaces it with a stubborn male pride. He unbuttons his wool jacket, his tie hanging, his crisp white shirt open at the collar. His jet-black hair mussed as usual, but it’s his eyes that set me off my course. Black and piercing. He flexes his body like an incredible marble statue come to life, all sinew and muscle, and ready to claim what’s his. Me.

  Until he sees the Miss Christmas Wrap poster stuck up on the side of the Victory Booth. His eyes dart from the poster to me and then back to the poster. I’ll never forget his penetrating gaze, as if he’s seeing me for the first time. He keeps his distance and doesn’t say a word. He’s uncomfortable with the attention I’m getting from the servicemen. He turns on his heel and leaves the community center. My jaw drops. I don’t remember him being jealous. Or maybe I never saw it. Whatever, I can’t stand here and do nothing. My whole life just walked out that door.

  Fear grows in me, becoming more powerful by the second, and a fierce denial of what’s happening holds me by the throat. The Jeff I fell in love with is a virile young man, used to having his way. Women adore him and I accept that. I don’t think he ever dreamed the shoe would be on the other foot. I have to keep reminding myself we’re kids caught up in a wartime romance and it’s up to me to talk some sense into him.

  Everybody is watching, waiting to see what I do. Whispers. Giggles. Even a few sighs.

  I grab my red coat from the cloak
room and dash outside. I don’t care who sees me or what they think. My younger self will have to deal with it later. If I’m going to save my relationship, I have to patch things up with Jeff before it’s too late and I lose him forever.

  For a second time.

  20

  I slow my pace as I make my way down the familiar path toward the cherry tree, hoping Jeff will be there. I can’t shake away the cold sweat sweeping down my back. Not to mention my jangled nerves. I step carefully, my heavy velvet gown wet and grimy around the hem from running through the grass looking for him, and then kicking up dirt on the old road. I’m tired, out of breath, and discouraged. The night surrounds me, pulling me in deeper and deeper as I leave the dimly lit town behind me. I know the way. Oh, do I.

  I traveled this path so many times over the years whenever Ma chewed me out for dawdling with my chores, or Pop had a talk with me about my arithmetic grade. I wish I was that kid again and I could make things better by going to the corner candy store, plunking down my four cents, and going home with a bag of Irish potatoes. Cinnamon covered, coconut candies that look like little spuds. Sweet and sticky, I loved them so much, I ate two at a time.

  Life was so simple then. A fistful of candy, a good cry, and everything went back to normal.

  Not tonight. I drew attention to myself in such a way the whole town is gossiping about me. I took a chance and stood up for myself. God knows where it will lead.

  The chilly night air makes the back of my neck prickle, slicing through my coat. I keep walking, hands in my pocket. I hold onto the comfortable feel of the letter between my fingers, the sweat oozing down my neck making my hair wilt and my Victory rolls come undone. Like me. I can’t believe my whole relationship with Jeff is at risk because I danced with Freddie and posed for that silly poster.

  I can’t leave things alone, can I? The plan was, show Jeff the letter, convince him he can come back safe, then we’ll get married and have kids. No, I have to go around saving everybody else first. I kicked up the stakes by coming back home and set this little patch of earth known as Posey Creek off on a quicker axis. Making it spin so fast, folks weren’t ready for it. I realize now you can try to change the past, but you can’t predict human nature. When you think you’ve made it to the other side of the tightrope, the wire breaks. What a fool I am.

  Give me another chance, God, please.

  Chin tucked down to my chest, I keep going. I pass the cherry tree and no, he isn’t there.

  I turn back toward home, trying to make sense of everything when I hear a car engine coming from somewhere nearby. I spin around, trying to see who it is. The road is flanked by woods thick with trees and night creatures scurrying through the brush. Then, like out of a Gothic novel, I see low, dimmed headlights with black tape over the top – a wartime precaution for night driving – creeping closer toward me. I can’t see who it is, but my heart pounds and I cross my fingers.

  Please, God, let it be him.

  I’m not disappointed. ‘Jeff!’

  He pokes his head out the window. ‘We have to talk, Jelly Girl.’ His voice is low, almost a monotone, like he’s lost part of himself. Seeing the anguished look on his face wrenches my heart.

  I’m too shaken up to move as he parks his roadster along the side of the road and jumps out, his hands sliding around my waist. Heaven and I are in sync again. We stare at each other, the dimmed lights playing with the shadows carved onto our faces, but I see the pain in his eyes. His gaze never falters, searching for answers I can’t give him. Not yet. We have to straighten things out between us first.

  ‘I’m sorry I danced with Freddie, Jeff.’

  ‘I’m not.’

  ‘He corralled me and I couldn’t say no—’ I begin, then. ‘What did you say?’

  ‘I’m a hotheaded fool, Kate. I see it now. Trying to keep you all to myself, letting my mother have her way because I didn’t want to upset my father. The old man isn’t well and though I should hate him, I don’t. You see, he’s—’

  ‘Please, Jeff, you don’t have to explain.’ I know about his father’s heart problem. No need for him to feel uncomfortable telling me.

  ‘I do. I’ve been selfish making you keep our relationship a secret. I can’t blame the servicemen for wanting to dance with you. You were the most beautiful girl there tonight. I’m so afraid of losing you, that you’ll fall for some guy in a uniform.’

  I cut him a big grin. ‘Never, Jeff, unless it’s you.’

  He exhales. He likes hearing that. Then his eyes turn serious. ‘I don’t know what’s going to happen to me, to us, but I’m through not shouting to the world how much I love you. I wish we could run away tonight, drive to the city before anyone can stop us and get married.’

  Tonight? Will that solve everything?

  No. I have to tell him about the letter. Another question looms. What if us getting married tonight changes something in the past I haven’t counted on? Like what if Jeff isn’t called up for the secret mission? What if he goes to pilot training school and is shot down over Germany?

  Can I afford to take that chance?

  No. I can’t risk it. We have to get through the next two days so I can warn him and pray that he believes me. Still, I have to know what’s on his mind. I couldn’t bear it if anything stopped our plans for eloping.

  ‘Why did you run off when you saw the poster?’ I ask with caution.

  ‘I was ashamed,’ he admits. ‘I realized what an idiot I am. That you’re doing your part for this war while I sit here twiddling my thumbs, waiting for orders to report to pilot training school.’ He holds me tight by the shoulders. ‘I’m determined to get into the fight, Kate, but not sitting behind a desk when I can be dropping bombs.’

  ‘Please be careful, my darling,’ I breathe, sputtering words I shouldn’t. ‘I pray you’re not shot down… lost somewhere in Germany or…’ I swallow hard. ‘France.’

  He cocks a brow. ‘What made you say that?’

  ‘Nothing.’ I avoid his eyes. ‘Too many newsreels, I guess.’

  ‘They don’t do this in newsreels.’ He kisses me and this time the passion threatening to erupt from every pore in my body is barely contained. The temptation to let this go as far as it can makes it irresistible. I try to pull away, but can’t. My heartbeat is keeping time with his, flooding my ears, my nerves coming undone in slow, pleasurable waves and I’m powerless to stop it.

  ‘I want you to never stop kissing me, Jeff.’ My words are a mere murmur, my breath as soft as my lips melting under his power. ‘First, there’s something I must tell you.’

  ‘Can’t it wait?’

  I shake my head. ‘No, Jeff, can we go somewhere and talk?’

  ‘At this time of night?’

  ‘Please, Jeff—’

  ‘The house where we’ll live when we’re married after we return from Washington isn’t far from here,’ he says with caution. ‘Down by the river where the two big oaks stand side by side. We can be alone there. I won’t try anything. I promise.’

  I’m sitting on a fence that has no greener side. I trust him, but being out late with him is against the social norms of the time. Whichever side of that fence I end up on, there’ll be a price to pay, either back in this time or in my own.

  No. I have to tell him about the letter. I smile, then whisper in his ear.

  Headlights dimmed, it doesn’t take us more than ten minutes to drive down the side road following the course of the river to a secluded spot where Posey Creek empties into the main body of water.

  The limestone house sits close to the riverbank, protected by tall oak trees and the ghosts of those patriot soldiers. Nothing has changed since the days when they hid here from the British. In the pale ivory light of a half moon, the two story home welcomes us like an old childhood friend, the pine door boasting an ancient wooden latch. Unlocked, which doesn’t surprise me. Here in Posey Creek folks look out for each other.

  ‘I can hardly wait till I carry you over the threshold, Jel
ly Girl.’

  ‘Why wait?’ I tease.

  ‘You want me to break tradition?’

  ‘It’s wartime, Jeff, please.’

  He laughs and scoops me up in his big strong arms. ‘Like I said, you try a man’s soul.’ Jeff shoves the door open with his boot and carries me across the threshold. No, the roof doesn’t fall in.

  ‘See?’ I hug him around the neck. ‘We’re safe. Nothing happened.’

  ‘I’ll protect you,’ Jeff says in a voice so warm it melts my insides like honey folding into cream. ‘I’ll never let you go, but I’ll understand if you changed your mind about coming here tonight.’

  ‘I trust you, Jeff, that you’ll marry me like you promised,’ I say as he puts me down. ‘Now you must trust me when I say I love you so much I have something to tell you that can’t wait.’

  ‘I admit, Kate, you caught me by surprise.’

  ‘I’m full of surprises.’ My voice breaks, knowing what I have to tell him, but he doesn’t notice.

  After giving me a playful kiss, Jeff gets a fire going, the logs giving off a pleasant smell that speaks of hearth and home, love and companionship. As if the stately house waited for us to light the old fireplace. I slide my legs together and bring them to my chest, resting my chin on my knees and watch him. It isn’t the heat from the flames that makes trickles of sweat roll down the back of my neck. His closeness burning my flesh and the raw tones of his voice urging me to join him on a wonderful adventure. Marriage. Where we won’t have to hide. Where we can be true and honest in each other’s arms.

  ‘Times have changed, Jeff. Women make their own decisions now.’ He wrinkles his brow. I brush his lips with my fingertip. ‘I don’t expect you to understand. Men never do. Know that being a powerful woman means I can also be soft and wanting and willing to express myself because I believe in us. In our love.’

  I’ve waited twelve years to find you. I don’t want you to leave on that train without you knowing how much I love you.