Tommy unknotted a bit and studied the cover, nodding. “It sounds good. I think I’ll get it.”
“Read it and then tell me what you think,” said Amy. “You should read it too, Gabriel.”
“Okay. When Tommy’s done with it, he can give it to me.” Gabriel stared at Tommy, waiting for him to say something.
Afraid that Gabriel was going to elbow him again, Tommy turned to Amy. “How’s your book drive going?”
“Not bad. We have about twenty books or so. At first it was kind of hard to ask people, but after a while it gets easy and they’re happy to help out.”
“Oh!” cried Gabriel. “I just remembered I have to tell Mom something. About my school lunch. Something bold.” He widened his eyes at Tommy and left him on his own.
Tommy bit the inside of his mouth. “We might have some books at home to give away. I’ll ask my mom.”
“That’d be swell,” said Amy, straightening her glasses. “We’re collecting all kinds of books. Even comic books. The GIs like them. Isn’t that funny? I didn’t think they would, but my teacher said to be sure to include them, so I always ask and I always get some.”
“I have lots I can give you,” said Tommy, finally relaxing. “I don’t really read them too much anymore. Just sometimes.”
“I still read Little Orphan Annie all the time. I love it – and I took the Junior Commando Pledge, of course. But my all-time favorite story is Anne of Green Gables. That’s a book. I’m on my fourth read. Have you read it?”
Amy was still filling Tommy in on the story’s main characters, when Lillian and Gabriel walked up to them. Lillian tried to hide her surprise at seeing Tommy talking to a girl; he was usually so shy around them.
“Mom, I told Amy that we might have some books and comics to give away. Her team is collecting books.”
“Hello, Amy,” said Lillian, appreciating the girl’s friendliness to Tommy. “I’m sure we have some books we can give you. I’ll look around when I get back home.”
Just then, a large, brisk woman walked up and greeted Lillian, offering her hand. “I’m Amy’s mother, Mrs. Little.”
Lillian took her hand and introduced herself.
The woman’s smile broadened as she looked down at Tommy. “Oh, so you’re Tommy! Amy can’t stop talking about you. It’s Tommy this, and Tommy that.” She bent over slightly. “I understand you’re going to be Amy’s partner for the science project. She’s so excited.”
“Mom, I said he might be. I haven’t even asked him yet.” She cast her eyes back and forth from Tommy to Lillian to explain. “Our teacher said we could work in teams if we wanted.”
“Well, that’s a good idea,” said Lillian. “Tommy can’t decide on his topic. Maybe the two of you together can come up with something.”
Mrs. Little smiled and winked at Tommy. “Amy was just saying that she wanted to go the library today and get some ideas. I’d be happy if you would accompany her.” She leaned into Lillian, adding, “I know it’s close to home, but you just never know. Saboteurs coming ashore, U-boat’s lurking off the coast. Goodness me!” She rolled her eyes to the ceiling.
“Can I, Mom?” asked Tommy. “We have to submit our idea before Christmas.”
Lillian had to smile at his sudden, new-found enthusiasm. He still had plenty of time to decide.
“Of course, you can.”
The two women made their purchases and left the store, Mrs. Little telling Lillian about their move from Ohio to Manhattan, and how difficult it had been to find an apartment to rent.
At the corner, Mrs. Little reached into her purse and tucked some coins into Amy’s coat pocket. “And you can stop by the soda fountain on your way home, as long as you don’t spoil your appetite. If that’s all right with you, Mrs. Drooms.”
When Lillian gave her assent, she saw Gabriel’s face fill with disappointment at the idea of missing out on ice cream.
Amy smiled at Gabriel. “You can come, too, Gabriel. Maybe you can help us think of something. Three heads are better than two.”
On first seeing Amy, Lillian had immediately taken to her, with her round glasses, brightly colored stockings, and girlish confidence. But that she had so readily included Gabriel in the outing, made Lillian like her all the more.
Gabriel looked up at Tommy with raised eyebrows, not sure if he would be helping or hindering.
Tommy threw his arm around Gabriel’s shoulder. “Come on, Gabe. We’ll be back in a couple of hours, Mom.”
Lillian watched the three children head to the library, happy to see that Tommy was talking and grinning. Other than rolling the comic book around and around in his hands, he seemed perfectly at ease with Amy.
*
Lillian wasn’t sure if it was the friendship with Amy or a few nights of successful salvage collecting that had boosted Tommy’s morale, but she was glad to see him more like his old self, and more in the holiday spirit.
After lunch on Saturday, Tommy and Gabriel sat in the living room with Mickey and Billy, adding to their list of carols, and making sure they knew all the words. They had complained that Billy was humming too many of the words, or making them up as he went along.
As they practiced, Lillian had to stop now and then to listen. They all had nice voices, but Tommy’s was particularly beautiful. The only time she had really heard him sing was while he was splashing in the bath tub, or singing along with his radio shows. But now, as she listened to him, she was struck by the beauty of his voice – it had an easy range, and a smooth tone. She pretended to be making a grocery list at the kitchen table as she listened to them rehearse.
Gabriel and Billy were feeling the presents under the tree and trying to guess what they might be, while Mickey wrote down the songs in the order they would be sung.
“We might as well do the same songs when we start on a new block,” said Mickey. “All we really need are about seven songs or so. We’ll finish with ‘We Wish You a Merry Christmas’ – with our salvage drive words, of course. We need one more. Any ideas?”
“How about that new one?” suggested Tommy – “‘White Christmas.’ They say all the servicemen are listening to it, wherever they are.”
“Good thinking, Tommy!” said Mickey. “That’ll tie in with our drive.”
They began singing the song, hamming it up at the end.
“And it’s short,” said Mickey. “Come on, guys. We need to get going.”
They slung their gunny sacks over their shoulders, looking like four little Santas in training, and hurried out the door.
“Back before 6:00, Tommy!” Lillian called after them. “I want you here for dinner.”
“I know, I know,” he called from one flight down.
Lillian watched them from the kitchen window. In spite of the war and all the bad news that daily filled the newspapers, she was beginning to feel that their first Christmas together as a family was going to be a good one, after all. Charles would be home in a week, and they would have seven whole days together as a family.
She used the rare opportunity of having an afternoon to herself to take a hot bath, and then she decided to work on the sweater she was knitting for Bundles for Bluejackets. She made of cup of tea, and found some music on the radio.
Curled up on the couch, she caught a faint whiff of lavender still on her skin from her bath. It was with a sense of loss and longing that she had used up the last drops of her bath oil. She wondered if Charles’s sister Kate and her daughters were still making time for such small indulgences as their home-made lavender oil. She doubted it. Two of Kate’s sons had already been deployed, and a third was in boot camp, leaving only the youngest son at home. She didn’t know how they were going to manage the farm.
Lillian realized that the last truly peaceful time she had known was the summer before the war, when they had visited Kate and her family in the Midwest. And it would surely be a long time, if ever, before she felt such peace again. Her mind was constantly on alert – listening for air raid siren
s, steeling herself for the latest news bulletins, wondering if the rationing would get much worse.
She gave a deep sigh and tried to remember that summer on the farm. But it had become increasingly difficult to hold such images in her mind. They were being crowded out by disturbing headlines and worrisome newsreels.
Her hands stopped knitting as she heard someone approach the door. A quick glance at the clock told her that it was early for the boys to be back. She heard keys at the door, and then saw Charles coming in.
“Charles!” she cried, jumping up and greeting him. “What a surprise! You didn’t tell me you were coming.” She embraced him and noticed that he held her more tightly, and longer, than usual.
“How long can you stay?” She quickly noted the expression on his face – was it worry? Sadness? Something was amiss. “What is it? Is something wrong?”
His eyes quickly searched the room. “Where are the boys?”
“They’re out on their salvage drive. What is it, Charles?” She lived in constant fear of another assault on the US, or a surprise invasion. “What happened? Has there been an attack?”
“No. No,” he said, and held her again.
She looked him over. “Are you all right?”
He held her gaze for a few moments, and then spoke gently. “It’s Gino.”
She took a step back and tried to read his expression. “Gino?”
Charles’s eyes winced at the pain his words would bring. “His ship was torpedoed. Off Iceland.”
She took a quick intake of air. “But – he’s all right?”
He slowly shook his head. “There were no survivors.”
A thousand pinpricks filled her body. “Oh, Charles! It can’t be true. Are you sure?”
“I heard about it yesterday and didn’t want to believe it. But I confirmed the findings – and asked for a twenty-four hour leave. I came as soon as I could.”
Lillian pressed her hands to her mouth. “Oh, my God. Not our Gino.” Tears shot to her eyes and she staggered backwards as the room tilted. She dropped onto the couch.
Charles sat down next to her.
She grasped at the only straw of hope she could find. “But – he was in a convoy, wasn’t he? He would have been protected. Maybe – ”
“He was. A large convoy. But his ship had engine trouble, and fell behind.”
Lillian knew the rest and gave a low groan in response to the revulsion she felt for the wolf packs. So like predatory animals. She hated to think of them preying on sweet Gino. She could see him, fresh-faced, smiling into the sun, or gazing up at the stars, while below the dark waters the pack lurked, encircling, closing in for the attack. She put her face in her hands, and tried not to imagine the rest.
Then her head snapped up, her face full of dread. “The boys – they’ll be so hurt. Oh, my God. How can I tell them? How can I tell Tommy? He’ll be crushed.”
Charles squeezed his eyes shut. As much as it hurt to see Lillian’s pain, he wasn’t sure how he would handle Tommy’s.
“And Anna Mae – he was so happy – ” Lillian choked, unable to finish.
Charles drew her to him and stroked her hair, her shoulder. Then he reached into his pocket and pulled out Gino’s letters. “He gave these – ” his voice broke. “He gave me letters that he wrote to his grandparents, and to Anna Mae. In case…”
Lillian placed a hand on Charles’s arm, for the first time comprehending how this news affected him.
He took a deep breath. “I’ll deliver them tomorrow, on my way back. They will have been notified by now.” He looked at the handwriting that seemed to capture Gino’s spirit – his happiness, his earnestness – and then slipped them back into his jacket.
Lillian’s eyes filled with sorrow. “What terrible times these are.”
Charles shook his head, and rubbed his hands over his face. “It’s going to get worse before it gets better.”
Lillian saw the fatigue in his face, and realized that he probably hadn’t eaten or slept since he heard the news. She caressed his hair, his cheek. He kept his gaze fixed straight ahead, avoiding her eyes. She put a hand to his cheek and gently turned his head to her. “Are you all right, Charles?”
She wondered at his silence. What struggle was going on inside him?
“There’s something else,” he said softly.
Her eyes searched his face, fearing more bad news.
“I’m so sorry to have to tell you this now.” But he couldn’t say it.
A fist twisted in Lillian’s stomach, knowing what it was. “Oh, my God. You’re leaving.”
“I received my orders yesterday. I didn’t think it would be for a few more months.”
“When?” Her voice came out in a whisper.
“The 26th. I have to return tomorrow – but I’ll have a week’s leave before shipping out.” He hoped his last words would offset the bad news, if only a little.
Lillian buried her face in his shoulder, trying to control her trembling.
“It has to be done. We’re doing everything we can to avoid more attacks like the one on Gino’s ship.” He stood now, and leaned against the mantel, his hand clenched at his side. “They’ve had control of the Atlantic for years. But they’re not going to have it for much longer. I can promise you that.”
Just then they heard laughter and footsteps running up the stairs. They exchanged a look of apprehension, and then Tommy and Gabriel burst through the door.
“Dad!” cried Gabriel, and he ran to hug him.
“Hello, son,” Charles said, hugging him back. “Hello, Tommy,” he said, avoiding looking directly at him.
Tommy was spilling over in exuberance from the success of their drive. “Man oh man, did we clean house! We had to make two trips to Mickey’s basement!”
“We got a broken jack-in-the-box,” added Gabriel, “three golf clubs, and the super of one building even gave us an old garbage can that we rolled back.” The memory of the last item caused them both to break into laughter.
They wriggled out of their coats and tossed them on the hall tree. “You should see Mickey’s basement. It’s getting full. We’re gonna win first place, I just know it.” Tommy gave Gabriel a playful tap on the head. “Wait till I tell Gino!”
Charles looked away, and Lillian put her hands over her mouth.
Tommy finally realized that something was wrong. That they weren’t responding like they should. He and Gabriel traded glances.
“What? What happened?” Tommy stood in front of Lillian. Her eyes seemed all red. “What, Mom? What’s the matter?”
Gabriel stood next to Tommy and waited for her answer.
Lillian reached out and took Tommy’s hand, but didn’t say anything.
He pulled his arm back, angry that no one was telling him anything. “What? Tell us!”
“Tommy,” Charles said quietly. “It’s about Gino.”
Tommy froze, as if poised for an attack. His eyes quickly shot from Lillian to Charles. “What? What about him?”
Charles sensed Tommy’s mounting frustration and didn’t want to prolong it any longer. “His ship was torpedoed,” he said simply. He waited to see if Tommy and Gabriel understood what he was saying. But their faces were blank, expectant. “There were no survivors.”
Tommy blinked at Charles, his mouth forming a question. “You mean – No. There must be a mistake! Somebody got something wrong.”
“I hoped to God it wasn’t true. But it was all confirmed by an escort ship. I’m so sorry, boys. I’m so sorry.”
Tommy’s mouth started to quiver and his face crumbled, a mix of anger and pain and shock and sorrow. He ran into his bedroom and slammed the door behind him.
Gabriel hesitated, not sure if he should follow. Then he curled up next to Lillian and let her hold him. After a few minutes, he lifted his face to her. “Did it really happen?”
“I’m afraid so.” She drew him closer to her.
Gabriel was quiet for several moments. “What about Anna Mae?”
Lillian kissed his head. “I know, Honey. It’s very sad. Gino left some letters with your father, for his grandparents and Anna Mae. He’s going to deliver them tomorrow morning.”
“Then will you come back home?” Gabriel asked, his eyes full of fear.
Charles sat next to Gabriel. “I have to go back to Virginia. But I’ll be here Christmas week.”
Gabriel sat silent, looking down at the floor. “I want to write to them, too. Will you take my letters to them?”
Charles nodded, and smiled sadly at Gabriel.
Gabriel went to the kitchen drawer and took out a notepad and pencil. Then he sat down at the table and wrote his letters.
Lillian leaned into Charles, and spoke in a low voice. “Let’s not tell them about your leaving. Let’s wait until next week.”
She went into Tommy’s room. He seemed so small and vulnerable, his shoulders shaking, his face buried in his pillow. There were no words that came to her. She sat next to him, and stroked his hair, bending down now and then to kiss him.
Chapter 9
*
Izzy leaned against the conference table after the morning meeting at Rockwell Publishing. “I just can’t believe it,” she said, blowing her nose again. “First there were boys from the old neighborhood I heard about. Now it’s hitting closer to home. My cousin Reggie, then my godson Franklin. It’s hard to take in. They’re a part of your life. You send them off, you get their letters – and then, just like that, they’re gone.” Izzy put her hand on Lillian’s arm. “And now Gino. Makes you want to cry,” she said, ignoring the fact that she was crying. “How are the boys handling it?”
“Tommy’s taking it pretty hard. He thought of Gino as an older brother.”
“The poor kid. What is he – eleven? That’s a tough age. Anything I can do?”
Lillian picked up her notebook, and slowly stood. “Thanks, Izzy, but I don’t think anything can be done. Time just has to heal him.”
“At least Charles will be home soon,” said Izzy, as they left the conference room. “That’ll help.”
Lillian groaned. “We haven’t yet told the boys about – his leaving.” She found it hard to say – the thought left such a void in her heart. She grasped at the one thing that kept her somewhat lifted. “But he thinks he will be back within a few weeks. This first time. Before leaving again,” she added quietly.
Christmastime 1942 Page 9
