He didn’t want to tell her he’d given those away to Davey, Reggie, Eva, Gina, and Betty since he wasn’t positive how she’d react. “Rosie, what’s in the drawer, and why don’t you want me to see it?” Vic asked in a commanding tone, making sure she knew he expected an answer.
“It’s nothing, really.”
“Rosie.” He shot her a sideways glower. He didn’t like the fact she was keeping something from him. Of course, he was reminded of his own omission about the children, but that was for protection, not deception.
She turned with her head down, gaze cast to the floor, and went to the drawer, opened it, and pulled out a two-inch-wide green and white tin box with black lettering. He took it from her and read: Shadows. As thin as a shadow as strong as an ox. “Rubbers?”
Chapter Nine
The night was frigid, especially when Rosie had thrown her own blanket at Vic and shooed him out of the room. The way he looked at her with such pain convicted her. She should’ve been happy with the tender care he offered instead of pushing him into her bed. But when he held the little tin housing the rubbers with disgust, she couldn’t face him and his rejection any longer.
Now she couldn’t escape the dreaded conversion she knew was coming, not when Vic tucked her into the truck and closed the door with nowhere to go for two hours. He’d been so upset last night that she wasn’t even sure they’d be leaving this morning together.
He slid into the driver’s seat, shut the door, but didn’t crank the engine. “Rosie, I didn’t mean to get upset, but my wife went to a store or pharmacy and purchased rubbers.” He gripped the steering wheel. The muscles in his hands flexed, as did his jaw. “I need the truth, Rosie. Have you found comfort with another man?”
“No!” she shouted before she remembered he sat a foot from her. “I would never betray you like that.”
“Then why did you buy rubbers?”
The word sent anxiety through her. The act had been difficult enough, but being said aloud made her tremble. “I didn’t get it here in town.”
“Then how did Mr. Mason know?”
She wrung her hands, longing to escape the embarrassment and avoid his disapproval. “Because I asked while I was shopping if he carried them. I didn’t buy them there, though. He didn’t sell them.” Her voice faded, and she wasn’t sure he could even hear her anymore.
“And that makes it better? I can only imagine the pharmacist’s expression when you asked him for this. And now the entire town knows. Mr. Mason I’m sure will be happy to tell all how my wife is buying these.” He pulled the tin from his pocket and held it out to her.
She cringed away from that blasted green and white box, trying to find the right words to explain beyond the humiliation of it all. “It was tucked into a display, so I grabbed it and raced to the counter and put the money on top of it.”
His head dropped, causing his hair to fall forward, making him look…broken. “So, you really didn’t buy them to be with another man?”
She shook her head and angled toward him. “No, Vic, never.”
Silence.
There was a long gush of breath from his lips.
Laughter.
She narrowed her gaze. “What’s so funny?”
He didn’t stop laughing. Instead, he laughed louder and dropped his head to the steering wheel, face turning maroon.
Enough. She grabbed the door handle, but he put his arms around her and pulled her into his side.
“Let me go. I won’t be laughed at any longer.”
“My dear, sweet Rosie.” He nuzzled his nose into her hair and took a sniff. “I didn’t mean to laugh, but the fact that you’re blushing now, I couldn’t help but imagine your skin turning the color of the fire engine toy I painted last week.”
She pushed against him but couldn’t help but snicker herself at the memory. “Don’t pity me. The poor man turned the color of a pumpkin. That’s what he looked like anyway, with his red hair and the blush that covered his entire face, ears, and neck. I’d worried I’d be turned away since only men buy those, but I think he was so embarrassed he rang it up, put it in a bag, and tossed it at me as if he’d get a disease if he touched me.”
Vic’s laughter erupted again. “You keep me guessing every day, don’t you? What will that wife of mine do next? Whatever gave you the idea to do this anyway?”
She struggled to free herself, but when his hand slid to the back of her neck, cupping it softly, she didn’t fight so hard to flee. “You did.”
The firm, loving hold slipped away. “Me? How did I ever?”
With shaking fingers, she opened her purse and removed the pamphlet she’d been given at a woman’s meeting before Vic had returned home. “You said you didn’t want to be with me. But if you don’t want to be with me, that means you’re not home with me. You’re still with the women from the war. I failed to get you back.” Tears rolled down her face, and she opened the pamphlet and pointed to the wording.
Your man must be forgiven any transgressions beyond the marriage during war. As women, you cannot comprehend the atrocities he has faced, but you can aide him with his reintegration. Dress as you once did, behave as you did, and most of all, allow your husband to exercise his husbandly rights. If not, you will fail to help him reacclimate and your marriage will be fraught with complications. We have delivered your man home safely; it is your wifely duty to make him stay.
Rosie’s breath caught, waiting for him to tell her that he indeed did love another overseas and that this life wasn’t enough for him.
The green and white tin fell to the floor. Vic scooted over and swooped her onto his lap, holding her head to his shoulder. “My dearest, there is no other. You are and will only ever be the love of my life. We spoke about this already. These so-called reintegration pamphlets were written by someone who never saw battle, is probably unmarried, and has no idea what life will be like now that the war has ended. Ignorant fool.”
With his words, tears fell swiftly, and she couldn’t control them. She’d never heard Vic so cross, but she couldn’t let it go. The words echoed in her head that it was her wifely duty. “B-But you don’t want to… I mean, you haven’t. But with those you can.” She pointed to the tin on the floorboard.
“I can’t. Not from lack of love or desire. Those are not a guarantee that you won’t get pregnant. I’ve heard they can fail. I told you, I’ve lost too many people. I can’t lose another. I can’t lose you, Rosie. I won’t take that chance with you. When I saw that scar on your wrist, I couldn’t touch you in fear that I’d break you. But darling, I want nothing more than to carry you into our home and show you how much I love you.”
She lifted her head and faced him, a breath from his lips. “Then do so.”
He swallowed, and his gaze darted around her face like a pinball in a game. “I can’t. Please don’t ask this of me. Not now.”
“I told you I’m stronger. Nothing will cause me to ever attempt to take my life again. Not even a baby.”
His fingers traced her chin. “I wish I could believe that.”
“You can.” She kissed him, blatantly without invitation and for her own enjoyment. When they came up for breath, she realized they had kissed for so long the windows fogged on the truck and a bead of sweat appeared at his brow.
“I will take you inside right now if you can tell me one thing.”
“What’s that? I’ll tell you anything,” Rosie promised and knew she would. Her body, mind, soul craved him, and she would do anything to have him. There would be nothing between them now.
“Tell me about Esther and why you can’t even look at Davey.”
His words were like a lightning strike through her heart. She pressed her hand to her chest to subdue the pain. Short, uncomfortable breaths were strangled from her lungs.
Vic lifted her from his lap and returned her to her seat before sliding back into position. “I’ll be here when you’re ready, Rosie.” With those words, the truck cranked, and she was left tremblin
g not just from the pain but the desire that still lingered inside her.
Chapter Ten
The silence in the truck made the trip to Clinton feel even longer than normal. Vic yearned to connect with Rosie again, but each time they made a step forward, he felt like he fell down a jagged cliff of doubt. Rosie stared out the side window at the mountains. She hadn’t moved or spoken since they’d pulled from their driveway an hour and forty-two minutes ago.
He could bear the silence no longer. Small talk. That was a way to begin. Discussion of weather, scenery. Yes, it was picturesque around here. “What are you looking at?”
Rosie remained turned to the window. “You know it’s beautiful out here, but I still prefer Sugar Maple and the view from the back of our house. I’ve always known it was home, from the first moment we walked inside before we even furnished it. That was such an easy time for us. Perhaps God gave us our bliss before the storm.” Rosie’s voice drifted away.
The sign to Clinton appeared, and Vic refused to enter the town until they spoke. If he was going to salvage their special day, he had to do something, so he turned the wheel. Unfortunately, he turned it too hard, and they shot into the grass until the truck rumbled to a stop with a hard jerk.
“What on earth?” Rosie spun around to see out the back window. “The furniture…”
“I apologize for my abrupt stop, but listen. I want to settle things here and now before we begin our date. Perhaps I put too much pressure on today being perfect, but I know that no matter what happens, I wouldn’t want to spend this day with anyone else but you.” Vic spoke so fast, he wasn’t sure Rosie could understand his ramblings. “I never touched another woman, and I was relieved to hear you were not with another man.” His pulse hammered at his neck with the mere idea another man would put his hands on his Rosie.
She opened her mouth to say something, but he wouldn’t give her the chance.
“I know we’re not teenagers anymore, and I was a fool to think I could replicate our free, easy youth. We’re older and things are more complicated, but for all that is Holy, I want one nice date with you. Like we had the other night at home. I want to walk proudly with you on my arm, sit by your side while we watch the show, and share a milkshake or soda with two straws. Can we do that without any more talk of wifely and husbandly expectations, and reintegration pamphlets, and rubbers?”
Rosie blinked several times at him. “I wasn’t sure you were done. Yes, I’d like that. We have the rest of our lives to figure out how to deal with our problems. Let’s just live for today.”
Vic kissed her cheek and then set them back on course.
Rosie cleared her throat, the way she did when she was struggling to find words. “You know, I heard this show is amazing. They’re speaking about awards. Could you imagine being a star?”
“I don’t know. It seems to me I wouldn’t like seeing myself so big up on that screen. Not to mention, I got sick before our high school performance.”
Rosie giggled, a sound that lifted his spirits to the clouds. How he’d missed her laugh. “Why on earth did you sign up for it? From the moment you walked on stage that first time, you turned green.”
He lifted a brow. “Don’t you know?”
“Know what?”
“That I did it to be close to you. I wanted to ask you out and I knew I needed to get to know you before I did, so I joined the play.”
“You could’ve talked to me in the hallway at school.”
“That would’ve been too obvious. Besides, how could I get close to you when all the boys followed you from class to class?”
“Don’t be silly.” She waved him off, but a part of him always knew she was too good for him. Sure, he’d been popular enough and didn’t have any trouble asking a girl out, but when he first met Rosie, his nerves were in a knot and he knew she would be the one he’d marry.
They found their way onto the main road through Clinton, where a crowd had already gathered at the theater. “Oh, no. I never expected so many people. I hope we can get tickets.”
“Why don’t you get in line while I settle up with the furniture?” Rosie offered.
“Alone?” he asked, a little shocked and unsure about the offer. Yet, he didn’t want to miss the show. And with his leg, he was no help. But he wouldn’t speak of his limitations today. The rest of today he’d ignore the troubles they’d faced and focus on the positive. He pulled into the back of the store and put the truck in park. “This is the place, right?”
“Right.” She reached for the door, but he stopped her before she could get out. “No. This is a date, remember?”
It took him a minute to get out of the truck and around to her door, but she was gracious enough to wait for him to limp to her side. He set his cane against the truck and helped her down, enjoying the feeling of her close to him once more. “You sure you want to do this by yourself?”
“Don’t be silly. This isn’t my first time.” She stood on her toes and kissed the side of his lips. “Now go before you cause me to think twice about accepting another date from you, Mr. Bessler.”
He loved when she teased him. Her eyes lit up brighter than the summer sun. “Okay, but don’t be long.”
The air had chilled with a blistering breeze. He worried that Rosie would catch cold, but he worried more about not getting into the movie since he knew they’d get to spend time side-by-side in the dark together with no pressure of conversation or intimacy.
As he waited, he contemplated the issues they were facing. Were rubbers the answer to all their problems? No. He wouldn’t risk another baby. Not right now.
He stood in line for over twenty minutes before Rosie arrived. “Are we good?”
“I think so. There should be enough seats.” As if the theater had waited for Rosie’s arrival, the line moved, and to his relief, they made it inside the modern Ritz theater. “Wow, this is some place.”
In the entryway stood a sign for ladies to remove their hats, prompting Rosie into action. He did the same, and they walked arm-in-arm through the decadent modern décor. Crimson and golden carpet provided a path to the theater, where an usher guided them to available seats in the heart of the orchestra. They were dressed in uniforms that reminded him of generals in foreign armies, and he felt an urge to salute the man before he remembered he was no longer a soldier himself.
Settled into their seats, an air of excitement surrounded them, and he felt childlike. Vic tucked Rosie into his side, and the newsreel appeared. He tensed at the images of post-war and the reconstruction of Europe and home, but Rosie must have sensed his anxiety, because she took his hand in hers and held tight, leaning into him. And from there he melted into the moment, forgetting past horrors and believing in new beginnings. This, now, was what he’d been waiting for with his wife. A lovely night full of promises, and he planned on enjoying it to the last moment. Even when the reel broke and the crowd uproar sang in unison, forcing the ushers into action, he only looked at Rosie and whispered, “You should’ve been a star. You’re more beautiful than Jane Wyman.”
“And you’re more handsome than Ray Milland.”
“Well, maybe, but he’s at least in one piece.” He pointed to his cane leaning against his seat. Silently, he chastised himself for slipping into his own mourning of his mobility.
She touched his chin with one finger and made him face her. “You do know I don’t care at all about your leg. You making it home is all that mattered. And for your information, you are twice the man Ray Milland is, even if he is so big on screen.” She smiled, and in that moment, he didn’t care who saw. He kissed her and kissed her again and again until the reel was fixed, intermission came and went, and the movie ended. When they managed to break free for air, they wandered out of the theater and back to the truck. It had been a magical, memorable night he thought he could live off for decades.
All the way home, he thought about their evening and decided he didn’t want to sleep in the guest room. When they pulled into the drivew
ay, the moon was high in the sky, and he dreamed of waking in Rosie’s arms.
“Vic, I know what you said, and I respect that.” She picked up the tin box from under the seat where it had remained out of sight and handed it to him. “Perhaps you could keep this for another occasion, but for tonight…tonight will you hold me until morning?”
He leapt from the car. His heart raced at the idea of being with her all night, if only to hold her to know she was there, but could he manage to keep his promise not to endanger her life with another pregnancy? He’d have to, because the alternative was a restless, lonely night alone. The fear of night terrors wasn’t enough to keep him from her side. He’d stay awake all night if it meant feeling her touch, listening to her breathing, holding her, cherishing her.
He opened her door and helped her down. When they reached the front of their home, he tossed his cane inside and lifted her into his arms, carrying her across the threshold. The pain meant nothing compared to the reward. “It would be my pleasure to sleep by your side tonight, my love. And tomorrow. Well, tomorrow will be another day. We will do this one day, one step, one laugh, one smile at a time.”
Chapter Eleven
The moon bathed the room in a silvery glow. Rosie woke several times to just make sure Vic was still holding her. Her body craved more, but she accepted this as a step toward their future. One day at a time, one night at a time, they mended the lost conversations, lost years, lost babies. The sweet kisses he offered throughout the night both sated and inflamed her passion for him. She would be bolder in the future and not shy away from conversations about protection. She would convince him it was safe to join as husband and wife without fear of another baby. Eventually, though, she hoped and prayed he’d want to try again. More than anything, she wanted to give him a child. To be the wife he deserved. The thought of holding her baby in her arms someday gave her the strength to continue fighting for her marriage and for the one man she knew she’d love forever.
If You Keep Me Page 6