No sense trying to predict the paths of children – they all go on their own journeys, answering to some internal prompting that tells them where to go and who to become. You can push and steer and encourage them in one direction, and then, one day, all on their own, they take an unexpected turn – following their heart’s compass.
Like herself. Though it had seemed impossible, there was nothing that could have changed her path as an artist. Impractical, difficult, improbable – and yet it had happened. She had been true to her vision, and it had rescued her on many occasions.
She smiled indulgently at her boys. Tommy wore a red vest over his shirt. Gabriel had on his favorite blue sweater. She had to laugh to think that, after all these years, they still gravitated towards their favorite colors, red and blue. She inclined her head to look at Charlotte, dressed all in lacey white. Hmm, thought Lillian. We shall see.
Gabriel sat up and reached his arms out for Charlotte. “My turn.”
Chapter 2
The cold winter predicted by the Farmer’s Almanac was proving true in Illinois. More snow was in the forecast, though for the time being, cold temperatures were all Kate and her family had to contend with. Patches of snow lingered along the roads and ribbed the fields in white rows. On the north side of the farmhouse and outbuildings, the snow lay in cold blueish shadows until the sun rose high enough to turn it white.
Kate was using the afternoon to get a little baking done, and the kitchen filled with the comforting scent of cinnamon and buttery pastry browning in the oven. Ursula enjoyed the warmth emanating from the stove as she slowly stirred the pan of oatmeal for her baby. She held him on her hip, eight-month-old Francis James Gerhard – or Frankie, as he was called. His name held the memories of two uncles killed in the war – her brother Francis and Friedrich’s brother Gerhard – and a third uncle, Ursula’s brother Jimmy, very much alive somewhere in the South Pacific.
Ursula was still shaken by her run-in with Mr. Creight earlier in the morning. He was filling in for Otto who was down with a chest cold, driving several POWs to and from camp and the farms where they worked. Though Kate had invited him inside where it was warm, he shook his head and remained outside. Creight was a tense, angry man, who regarded the prisoners with contempt. Ursula hardly knew him, but she had been a classmate of his son who was killed in Germany in the spring. And so Mr. Creight hated Friedrich, and all Germans.
Ursula hadn’t seen Friedrich in weeks. Though he had arrived in the morning, she knew that Ed planned to take him and Gustav to the Bloomfield’s farm to help tear down an old shed. Love and longing had perhaps made her reckless. Earlier, while her brother Eugene was still upstairs, she thought she had seen Mr. Creight walk to the machine shed with Ed. But she was mistaken – it had been Gustav. Mr. Creight had returned to the barn and was there when she rushed in with Frankie and ran straight into Friedrich’s arms.
They embraced, and Friedrich gathered his son in his arms, kissing him again and again.
“Friedrich, it’s been so long. Every day I stand at the window, hoping that the truck will bring you – ”
They heard a sound and whipped around – there was Mr. Creight, white-lipped.
“Friedrich!” came Ed’s voice from the machine shed. “Bring the hand-saw with you.”
Friedrich and Ursula held each other’s gaze, and then parted. Friedrich waited until Ursula and Frankie were gone, and then left for the machine shed.
Ursula stood by the pump, making sure that Friedrich was safe with Ed. She watched them load up the truck and drive off to the Bloomfield’s farm.
Suddenly, Mr. Creight was at her side, his face stiff with anger.
“My son wasn’t good enough for you, was he? But you can take up with that!” He spat on the ground, and walked to his truck.
Ursula instinctively held Frankie closer, stunned by Creight’s tone and words. What did he mean? She had known his son, Jeremy, since they were in grade school and had always been friendly with him. She watched Mr. Creight drive off and then hurried back to the house, hoping Eugene hadn’t seen anything.
Eugene, her eldest brother, who had been stationed in England, had returned home a month ago – and was furious with her. Somehow he knew about her and Friedrich, and couldn’t forgive her. Ursula could brave the anger of anyone, but the presence of her brother, and now Mr. Creight, prevented any chance of finding time to spend with Friedrich.
Ursula continued to stir the oatmeal and shifted Frankie to her other hip. She looked around, wondering where Eugene was. He had a restless energy about him. Sometimes she would see him staring fixedly at the floor, or out the window. Then he would jump up and find a task to busy himself with. Her heart ached for him – she wished she could speak to him and try to help him. But he wanted nothing to do with her.
She heard his footsteps coming down the stairs and kept her back to him. He cut through the kitchen, stopping on the back porch to grab his flight jacket on his way out.
Jessica had just returned home from student teaching at the town’s elementary school and was describing her day to Ursula and Kate. She watched Eugene walk right past them. “Hello to you, too! There’s no mail – I just checked.”
“What do you call that?” Eugene closed the door behind him and headed down the lane to the country road. It was his habit to check the mail every day.
Jessica looked out the window at the mail truck that had just pulled up to the mailbox on the country road. “Well, it’s late today. How was I supposed to know?”
Ursula stepped aside as Jessica cracked open the oven to peek inside.
Jessica inhaled the scent, but her smile shifted to a frown. “He’s always mad about something.”
“On the contrary,” said Kate. “He’s happy to be back. Happy to be alive. And leave the oven shut. They still need a few minutes.”
Jessica leaned against the table and crossed her arms. “He was so nice when he first got home. Remember how happy he was to see us all? Four years away from us in the Army Air Forces. Now he barely talks to me.”
Kate washed the mixing bowl and whisk and set them in the rack to dry. “Be a little understanding. The GIs have a hard time adjusting, especially the ones who have been gone for years, like him.”
“So I’ve noticed,” said Jessica.
“It’s hard for them to do things that everyone else takes for granted. Like sleeping in. Like taking their time when they eat or take a shower. Not jumping at loud sounds. Give him time.”
Ursula spoke softly. “It’s my presence that sets him off.”
“I think it’s the mail, or lack of, that upsets him,” said Jessica. “He’s fine until he checks the mail. Have you noticed?”
Jessica pulled the curtain wide. She saw that Eugene stood next to the mailbox, sifting through the letters in his hand. He stared out over the fields, lowered his head a moment, and then walked back up the lane to the farmhouse. At a slower pace from when he left to check the mail.
“I wish she’d hurry up and write,” said Jessica.
“Who?” Ursula asked, turning to her.
Jessica put a hand on her hip and gave a puff of disbelief.
“Oh.” Ursula nuzzled Frankie and added a little sugar to the oatmeal. “Maybe. Who knows?”
“Well, don’t antagonize him,” said Kate. She patted Ursula to step aside while she opened the oven and lifted out the cookie sheet full of golden cinnamon twists. She placed them on the table to cool. “Whatever it is he’s waiting for is troubling him.”
“Those smell heavenly,” said Jessica. She lifted a hot twist and bounced it from hand to hand. Then she blew on it and took a bite.
Eugene opened the door, stomped off the snow from his boots, and hung up his jacket.
“Any mail?” asked Kate.
He came into the kitchen and tossed a few letters on the table. “Here’s a letter for the Blake Farm.”
Jessica glanced down at it. “Maybe Mr. Creight can drop it off when he runs the boys ba
ck to camp.”
Eugene’s face darkened at the friendly tone used for the Germans. “The boys? They’re war prisoners. And how much longer is Creight going to be here? He’s like a black cloud hovering about. He’s still sore we outbid him for that scrap of land. Five years ago!”
Ursula felt a flash of guilt. “It’s not that. His son was killed, and it’s been hard – ”
“The war was hard on everyone.” Eugene dropped into a chair. “No need to make it worse.”
“Otto’s on the mend,” said Kate. “Shouldn’t be much longer.”
“Like they even need a guard,” Jessica said.
“Someone has to drive them to and from the camp,” said Kate. “I do miss Otto, though.” She wanted to avoid any discussion of the POWs and went to the table, looking through the mail.
“Open this from my cousin,” she said, handing an envelope to Eugene.
She made a sound of frustration at not finding any letters from Jimmy or Paul. “When your brothers finally make it home, I’m going to wring their necks! Why don’t they write? Don’t they know how I worry when I don’t hear from them? Why has there been no word?”
“Paul wrote that he’s on his way to San Diego,” Ursula said. “And we know that Jimmy is headed for Hawaii.”
“That was over two weeks ago!” Kate sat in the chair next to Eugene.
He handed her the opened card for her to read. “Mom, every sailor and soldier is trying to get home. It’s chaos out there. I told you how we had hammocks strung all over the place on the ship heading back home – we had to sleep in shifts. Not to mention the pandemonium at chow. Mail is the least of their concerns.”
“I suppose.” Kate heaved a sigh. “I just want them home. Safe.”
“They’ll likely spend Christmas on ship,” said Eugene.
“Listen to you!” Jessica said, sitting down. “And you say Mr. Creight is like a black cloud. They’ll be home, Mom. Don’t worry. But it could take a while. Jimmy’s letter said that after Hawaii, he’ll most likely go to San Francisco, and then take a train to Los Angeles. And then take an eastbound train.”
“Goodness! Sounds like it could take months!”
“Once they’re stateside, we’ll hear from them,” said Ursula, turning off the stove.
Jessica leaned forward on her elbows. “Remember, Mom – it was only a few months ago that Jimmy was in the Philippines, waiting for the invasion of Japan.”
“Thank God, I didn’t know that at the time. I wouldn’t have slept a wink.”
“And he’ll be discharged effective New Year’s Day! That’s less than a month. And then – ” Jessica beamed with excitement – “his wedding! I saw Gladys in town and you never saw anybody happier. She said Jimmy wrote that he would wear his dress blues for the wedding.”
Eugene restlessly rose to his feet and went to the window with his arms crossed, staring out over the fields to the east. Then, just as suddenly, he dropped his arms to his side and sat back down.
Kate and Ursula exchanged glances at his sullenness.
Jessica lifted another twist and held it out to Eugene. “Still hot.” She waited for him to take it. His habit of ignoring her hurt, and she responded by trying to coax him out of his mood. “Come on, Eugene, tell us why you’re always checking the mail. Waiting to hear from a girl?”
He half-heartedly sorted through the Christmas cards from relatives and glanced at the red cover of Yank magazine. “None of your business.”
“What am I supposed to tell everyone? All the girls are asking about you. Shirley says they’re asking her the same thing – like she might have some inside information. What should we tell them?”
“Tell them to mind their own goddammed business.” He waved aside the offered twist.
Jessica ate it, licked her fingers, and waited a moment. “Is she pretty?”
The scowl on his face caused her to throw up her hands. “All right, all right. Sorry I asked.” She jumped up. “I’m going to change.”
“Take these with you,” said Kate. She went to the back room where the ironing was done and came back with a pile of neatly folded clothes.
Jessica took the clothing and ran upstairs. She was always careful to keep her school clothes nice. Though she was now in training, she insisted on feeding and watering the animals at end of day. Still, with Eugene at home, and Jimmy and Paul soon to arrive, she was happy that the burden of the farm would, for the most part, be off the shoulders of her, Ursula, and their mother.
Kate squeezed Eugene’s shoulder. “I’ll make us some coffee.”
He raised his head and smiled, and tossed the letters aside.
Ursula set Frankie down and dished out the oatmeal into a bowl for him. Frankie crawled over to Eugene’s leg and began to pull himself up, babbling in happiness.
Eugene pulled his leg away, grabbed the Yank magazine, and went into the living room.
Ursula’s cheeks flushed at the rebuff. She swept up Frankie into her arms and pressed her cheek to his silky hair. “I’ll feed him and give him his nap.” She took the bowl and walked to Kate’s room down the hall where a crib was set up for his naps.
Kate waited for the water to boil, made a pot of coffee, and took a cup to Eugene. “There’s nothing like the scent of fresh coffee. Especially on these cold days.”
Eugene sat up and took the cup. “Thanks.” He frowned at Frankie’s cries resisting sleep. Soon, the soft sounds of a lullaby were heard.
Eugene noticed that Kate remained standing in front of him. He raised his head to her.
“What?”
“I think this has gone on long enough. You’ve been home a month now and have yet to acknowledge Ursula’s child.”
“It’s German,” Eugene said dismissively, and took a sip of coffee.
“He’s a baby!”
Eugene’s head snapped up and he repeated firmly. “And German. I just spent four years of my life being shot at by Nazis.”
Kate opened her mouth to respond, but they heard Jessica clamoring down the stairs. She had changed into dungarees and a flannel shirt. She came into the room holding a bundle of fabric in her arms.
“I was putting away Eugene’s laundry and look what I found – another parachute!” She turned to Eugene with a mischievous raise of her eyebrows. “The one you gave us is more than enough for me and Ursula. We’ll get several dresses out of it.” She bounced on her toes, waiting for Eugene to explain the second bundle of silk. She cleared her throat. “So who’s this one for? The letter writer? Or one of your old girls from home?”
“I’ll thank you to stop snooping around my room.” He grabbed the folded parachute and set it next to him.
Jessica’s fists went to her hips. “I wasn’t snooping! I was just – ” She caught the shake of head from Kate.
“Come help me with dinner. You can get started on the salad.”
Ursula soon joined them in the kitchen. “Frankie fell right to sleep.” She began rinsing and scrubbing the potatoes Kate had dumped in the sink.
Jessica sat at the table, slicing a few carrots for the salad. “I was not snooping.”
“A good meal will set him right,” said Kate. “Tell us about your plans for the school Christmas party. Are you sorry you volunteered?”
“I’m only in charge of first through third. I can handle that.” When the telephone rang, she jumped up to answer it. “I’ll get it!” She chatted for a few moments, then hollered from the hallway, “It’s for you, Eugene! It’s Burly!”
Eugene scowled as he took the receiver. “I could have heard you out in the fields.”
“That wasn’t loud,” Jessica muttered as she sat back down at the kitchen table. She picked up a cucumber and began slicing it, then stopped. “Do I talk too loud?”
Ursula threw her a smile over her shoulder. “Of course not.”
Jessica remained unconvinced. “I have to raise my voice so that the kids can hear me. Maybe it’s becoming a habit.”
“I’ve ne
ver noticed it,” said Kate. “Don’t pay any attention.” She lifted her head and a light came to her eyes as she heard the happiness in Eugene’s voice.
“Hey, Burly! Not much. What’d you say? Clem’s home?” he shouted into the phone. “Yeah, put him on. Clem! You home?” He listened, his face transformed into happiness. “You bet! We sure as hell did. Home Alive by ’45!”
Jessica sat immobile as she listened to Eugene.
“Sure. Stop on by. We’ll go uptown and have a cold one.”
Eugene stepped into the kitchen, all smiles. “That was Clem! He made it home!”
“Clem’s home?” asked Jessica, her eyes brightening. “Clem Corrigan?”
“Thank goodness,” said Ursula.
“He and Burly are going to stop by – then we’ll go into town. I haven’t seen him since he left. In early ’42.”
“That’s wonderful news,” said Ursula. “What a long time for you both to be gone.”
“Indeed, it is,” said Kate. She had noticed that anytime a local boy made it back home, Eugene visibly cheered. She was glad to see that his mood had improved. He had never been good at sitting still, and since his return, he hadn’t yet fallen into a routine. Other than farm chores, he didn’t know what to do with himself.
“Thank goodness I made the cinnamon twists. Let me see what else I can offer.” Kate went to the pantry and took out a loaf of date bread.
“Don’t fuss, Mom. It’s just Burly and Clem. And we won’t be staying long. We’re going into town.”
“I wish you’d all have dinner first,” said Kate.
“We’ll grab a bite in town.”
Jessica finished slicing the last of the cucumbers. “When did Clem get back?”
“I don’t know. Guess I’ll find out. God, I’m glad he’s home. He had a tough time of it, from what I hear.”
Jessica’s head snapped up. “What do you mean?”
Eugene didn’t answer.
“I’ll be happy to see him again,” said Kate. “Don’t keep him out late drinking, Eugene. He’s going to need to catch up on his sleep and ease back into civilian life. It’s taken you a good month.”
Christmastime 1945 Page 2