Lady Blues

by Aaron Paul Lazar

  Bella nodded sympathetically. “I spoke to your momma a few times. I think she suspected ‘bout us, but she was very kind to me. She was just ruined when you disappeared, honey.”

  Kip grimaced. “I can only imagine. Now, my father, on the other hand, was not much for emotion. As a mathematician and Harvard grad, he pushed me into studying the sciences. Even in high school I sneaked off at every possibility to Harlem, where I played piano in the hot spots of the day. The jazz and blues of the era consumed me.”

  Bella smiled, smoothing her hair with a touch of sensuality that reminded me of the photo Kip carried in his suitcase. The woman still possessed an inexplicable sense of allure.

  Kip continued. “When I was eighteen, I met Bella. I was playing at the club when she came in and the boss, who seemed to know her, asked her to sing. And sing, she did.” He reached over and squeezed her hand, receiving a blinding smile in return. “That was the moment I fell in love with her. She intoxicated me. I’ve loved her for seventy years.”

  Bella flashed another smile tinged with sadness. “In those days, a mixed relationship caused scandal like you wouldn’ believe. We had to hide our love from our families, but my cousin Corrina let us use her place in the Bronx. It was a crazy time, wasn’t it, honey? The war was heatin’ up, too.”

  Kip nodded, his eyes glistening. “Times were wonderful, and times were awful. The prejudice was intolerable, even in the big city. But I digress, let’s see, where was I?”

  “When Corrina introduced me to Glenn Miller, an American darling at the time, I became enamored with his music. He took me under his wing, training me to conduct his orchestra. Convinced me to join the Air Force with him, and I was accepted into his band that very year. I was to start a second band, and he was grooming me for the position. I would be the youngest band leader ever.”

  “Glenn was mighty proud of your father,” Bella said, nodding to Curtis.

  Kip shot her a grateful smile. “Well, I don’t know about that, but it was a great honor to be chosen by him. So, shortly after I joined up, we were assigned to London, performing for the troops stationed over there. I pined away for my Bella, whose own career was taking off like a rocket back here in the States. When she landed a gig in Paris, at the same big concert for which we were booked, I could barely contain my excitement. I was going to see my Bella, and soon!”

  Bella’s eyes defocused as she remembered. “I flew over a few days early, on December thirteenth, 1944, to get settled in. I remember stayin’ in a tiny hotel room on the Left Bank. And that show, my first gig outside the States, was a celebration for the openin’ of them there headquarters in Versailles, which was bein’ moved from London to Paris.”

  Kip’s eyes lit up as the memory seemed to hit him. “That’s right. I’d forgotten about that.”

  Bella continued. “I was sick every mornin’. ‘Member bein’ so excited and so afraid. And I was gonna tell Kip ‘bout our baby when I saw him. Maybe suggest we move to France or England, where minds weren’t quite so closed to mixed marriages.”

  Kip reached for her hand again, and leaned over to kiss her cheek. “I wish to God I’d known, my love. I wish I’d made it to your side. I would have married you on the spot.”

  She cast her eyes down, then pulled herself together. Her voice hitched a little, but she regained control quickly. “Well, we sho’ can’t rewrite history. But I need to know what in the world happened to you that night, Mista Kip Sterling. I waited in Paris for two long weeks. And when you didn’ show up, I spent the next seventy years mournin’ you.”

  Kip straightened, eyes glazing over as he moved back in time. “Of course. Sorry, my dear. Let me take you back to December fifteenth, 1944. Major Alton Glenn Miller and his manager, Don Haynes, finagled seats on a Noorduyn Norseman C-64 that night. I hitched a ride at the last minute.”

  My mind flashed back to the initials on Kip’s old suitcase. AGM.

  “The fog was terrible, and all the other planes had been grounded. By luck, he ran into Lt. Colonel Norman Baessell the night before at an officers’ mess, near Northhampton and struck up a conversation with him. He’d arranged for pilot John Morgan to fly over to Paris the next day from Twinwood Farm.”

  “It was twenty-four degrees that morning, and the fog was thick and cold. We couldn’t believe it when the pilot actually landed the plane at the airport in that fog, ready to fly us over the channel.”

  “Well, as I explained, I snagged a ride at the last second. I’d spoken to Bella on the telephone, and had been so anxious to see her. Glenn let me join them without filing a report. No one but the pilot, Glenn, Baessell, and Haynes knew about it.”

  He paused for a minute as if to collect his thoughts. “The rest of the trip is rather a blur. We had almost made the crossing, when the wings started to ice up and Morgan lost control. I remember clutching my duffel bag, filled with clothes and music, and my oilskin-wrapped love letters and photos of Bella. I always wrapped them up tightly, in case we ran into bad weather, or the constant rain in England. And thank God I did.”

  We hung on Kip’s every word.

  “We went down fast and crashed about twenty feet from the French coast. I hit my head and have a vague memory of sloshing through the bodies and debris. The water was freezing, but the only things I could carry back to shore were my oilskin packets, which had burst from my duffel bag, and Glenn’s music suitcase, which had opened, scattering sheet music everywhere.”

  He put his head in his hands. Bella rubbed his back for a few minutes.

  “I think I’m still blocking out the memories of the carnage. But I knew they were dead. I distinctly remember seeing the sheet music bobbing on the waves, and my legs were frozen blue. I made it to the shore, stuffed my possessions in Glenn’s valise, and promptly passed out. I don’t remember much after that, except being passed from hospital to hospital, and eventually arriving home to the States where I landed in numerous VA hospitals. It’s all quite a blur. Until Debbie gave me the first dosage of Memorphyl. That’s when everything started to come back to me.”

  We sat silently for a long time, sifting through the facts as Bella and Kip embraced again. When nothing more came from Kip, Curtis turned off the camcorder with a click of finality, and I headed home to my wife, filled with a sudden need for her company.

  Chapter Forty-three

  I sat on the crest of the hill overlooking Siegfried’s new cabin, surveying the panorama before me. Max thumped his tail on the grass and nuzzled me with his wet nose. The scent of fresh-mown alfalfa wafted on the air, and a pair of woodpeckers drummed pine trees to the east.

  “Hey, buddy. We had a good walk, didn’t we?”

  He lapped my hand in agreement. I stroked his ears and rested back on my elbows in the warm grass. Our white farmhouse sat neatly on the other side of the paddocks and barn, the gardens weeded and the lawn mowed. I’d been working hard since school let out. All of the crops were planted, except the melons, and I intended to put them in the ground tomorrow.

  The separation of our homes was just right—close enough for visits—yet distant enough to provide privacy for the new couple.

  The last of the windows were installed yesterday, and today the doors and gutters were being hung. The contractors I’d convinced Siegfried to hire had been decent. They showed up early and worked hard all day. I’d been told this was unusual, but realized any other option would have been intolerable after the spring we collectively endured.

  The sun had begun to sink into the horizon, shimmering orange-cranberry behind clusters of black walnut, maple, and beech trees. Cottonwood leaves rustled overhead, their leaves a fluttery symphony of sound. The white fuzz the cottonwoods had shed over the past few weeks still lingered on alfalfa stubble and in honeysuckle bushes along the hedgerow, playing in the slight breeze. The gently rolling hillside, bathed in the golden light of late afternoon, rippled and undulated toward the valley of fresh green and saddle brown.

  I studied the simple design o
f Siegfried’s house with approval. Small enough to easily heat with wood, it tucked nicely into the hillside. Tomorrow, the appliances would be installed, and by the end of the week the place should be habitable. Since Siegfried had chosen to go with the log cabin style, no drywall was required. Pine logs formed the walls, and stones culled from our field framed the fireplace.

  I watched as my gentle friend and Lily approached from the barn, having just fed the horses.

  Lily made her way up the hill without crutches. She’d surprised the doctors and had healed more quickly than expected. Her determination seemed to grow with each day that Siegfried stayed at her side, doting on her, and simply showing her the kind of love she’d never known. As they slowly came closer, I reflected on the events of the past months. Max crept onto my lap and made himself comfortable, snuggling up to me.

  May and June had passed quickly. Curtis, Bella, and Kip settled into Curtis’s place on the ridge, where he tended to them with royal ministrations. The reunited couple married a week after Lucy and I rescued Kip. They invited no one except their son, and according to Curtis, the ceremony was over in thirty minutes.

  I thought Kip might be afraid he’d lose his memory again, and thus hurriedly tied the knot, but the supply of Memorphyl Debbie had hidden at her sister’s shop, in addition to the evidence collected in the giant garage at the lodge, easily guaranteed him a sharp memory for the rest of his life. Doc reviewed the dosages, and to my relief, took over the management of Kip’s case and many of the other patients who were left in limbo at Bello Mondo.

  Siegfried and Lily had been taking English classes together. Their progress was rapid, and before long, they conversed for hours. I helped Siegfried learn how to drive safely in the city, where Lily’s therapy appointments were held. I was proud of my friend for taking on the challenge, and he did just fine.

  Over the past few months, she’d seemed to come to terms with her past. Although I knew much more time would be needed to fully digest and deal with the horrific revelations Thom Kim made on his deathbed, she seemed to be at peace. The haunted look evaporated slowly, replaced by a much healthier glow.

  Of course, the ladies in my household had tended Lily well. Camille took her to a spa, where they paid for an assortment of mysterious feminine treatments. Camille talked about cucumbers and avocadoes in unusual ways, but when the two women arrived home laughing and looking totally refreshed, I didn’t question it further. Some mysteries are meant to remain unsolved.

  Mrs. Pierce had prepared healing soups and tucked fresh sheets around Lily for the first few weeks of her homecoming. She asked for her help in the kitchen, once Lily became mobile, and the resultant harmony was surprising. Lily was at home with a sponge, mop and pail, and seemed to enjoy swabbing the decks and washing dishes as our mother hen prepared the weekday meals. I continued to cook on weekends, throwing myself into new gourmet creations as each new spring delicacy emerged from the garden.

  Lily saw the benefit of Shelby’s ministrations, too. With her mother’s help, Shelby had dragged Lily, crutches and all, to the Salvation Army store. They’d come home with bags full of chic clothing at bargain basement prices. I didn’t question it, but it seemed to perk Lily up and she wore summery outfits of lemon yellow, cobalt blue, and soft green with a renewed sense of confidence.

  Oscar and Millie Stone visited frequently. Millie’s natural flair for home decorating seemed to entice Lily, and they reviewed Country Home magazines together after Sunday dinners. Oscar photographed every step of the process of the cabin’s build, from the ground breaking to the routing of the electrical wiring. Besides, he needed something to keep him occupied for those long sessions when the women drooled over the magazines. Reverend Nahum Hardina visited each Sunday, as usual, and joined in the laughter at each meal, especially on the days when Bella, Kip, and Curtis dined with us.

  Of course Maddy, with her ostentatious tastes and increasing desires for matrimony, was not to be outdone. She brought her bridal magazines to the house relentlessly, pointing out favorite pages to Lily, fully aware that Siegfried and Joe watched with controlled expressions of varying emotions. She and Joe still hadn’t set a date, but the idea of Las Vegas appeared to remain high on her agenda. Joe gracefully ducked a response, and they cohabitated more or less happily in Maddy’s house on Twin Bridge Road.

  Joe discovered Thom and Lily’s shop burned due to faulty wiring. There was no sinister plot to win the insurance money, as had been speculated by people around town.

  Freddie and Adam’s marriage grew comfortable, busy with three children and two full time jobs, and Freddie offered Lily a position at the clinic. After her leg healed fully, she would work with Siegfried, helping sterilize the facility at first, and eventually learning varying facets of a Veterinarian’s assistant. The idea suited the couple and would provide a place for Lily to feel needed, and at the same time allow Mrs. Pierce to fully re-stake her claim on our household.

  Debbie was cleared of all charges, and Lucy, our ex-FBI agent, returned to creating masterpieces from wood. To my delight, Lucy and her dog, Susie, had become regular visitors. We discovered a common passion for gardening, and I was pleasantly surprised that she possessed a fine knowledge of herbs and essential oils.

  We traded plantings and jokes, recipes and quips, and shared life stories. I told her about Elsbeth and her passing, and she confided to me about her ex-lover, Helen. We discovered cancer had claimed both our partners, and formed a tentative bond borne of suffering through similar life experiences.

  Max had fallen hard for Susie, and whenever Lucy’s car jounced down the driveway, Max’s ears perked up and he danced in place.

  I pulled myself out of my reverie, opening my eyes to the indigo sky that stained the horizon now. Max whimpered in a dream, his feet scuffling against me.

  Siegfried surprised me, clearing his throat. “Professor, the house looks good, oder?”

  I gently slid Max off my stomach and stood up. “Hey, buddy. It does. It’s really shaping up.”

  Lily smiled shyly and nodded to me. “Hi, Gus.”

  “Hi, Lily. How’s the leg?” I realized I asked her the same thing every time I saw her, and pretty soon would have to give it up. She hardly limped any more.

  “It is much better, thank you.” Her words came more freely now, without the hesitation of months earlier.

  A flurry of noise came from the house below, followed by the slamming of the screen door. Johnny and the twins erupted from the kitchen, followed by Adam, who ran with them toward the swing set. Sheba barked and danced around their feet, and Tristan trailed behind, his fluffy feline tail raised high in the air as if to bring up the end of the procession with dignity.

  “Are you excited about moving in?” I asked.

  Sig slid his arm around Lily’s shoulder and leaned down to kiss her cheek. The expression of love in his eyes twisted my heart. They’d both been alone for so many years it had seemed almost preordained. If it hadn’t been for the fire, for Thom’s passing, the two might never have been united.

  “Ja,” Sig said. “We are very happy.”

  A ring flashed in the light on Lily’s hand. I stole a closer look, and recognized the diamond Siegfried had been carrying in his pocket for the past few months. He’d confessed to me that he wanted to be sure Lily had dealt with her traumas before he asked her to change her life again. And I’d understood that. When she answered his big question, I knew he wanted it to be forever, not because she needed comfort or a place to stay during a crisis.

  He noticed my glance, and a broad grin stole across his face. “We have news, Professor.”

  I played it cool. “You do? And just what might that be?”

  A blue heron sailed across the hilltop, not far over our heads. She skittered across the water of the pond on the lower field and glided into the brush on the far side.

  Lily held out her hand.

  I took it and admired the tasteful ring. “Very nice. So this big lug asked you to m
arry him, huh?”

  She smiled and looked up at him through long black lashes. “Yes. The beeg lug ask me,” she giggled.

  I let her hand go. I got a kick out of teaching her new silly phrases, and “big lug” had stuck with her. I stepped back and tilted my head. “And what was your answer, Lily?”

  She slid an arm around his waist, resting her head against his chest. “I say yes, Gus. I say yes.”

  The last rays of sunlight reflected on the windows of their new home, glinting with promise. Max woke up and shook himself to his feet.

  “Well, that’s good news. Come on. Let’s go tell everyone.”

  They exchanged a guilty look.

  “What?”

  Siegfried lowered his eyes. “We, ah, we already told them.”

  I snorted a huge laugh. “Always the last to find out, aren’t I?”

  They both smiled sheepishly, and turned to head back to the house.

  Max jumped up with both paws on my chest, his tongue lolling and eyes shining.

  “Did you know, too?”

  I ruffled his ears, and he cocked his head sympathetically, as if he understood me.

  “I’ll bet you did. Come on. Let’s go home, boy. Let’s go home.”

  - The End -

  About the Author

  Aaron Paul Lazar writes to soothe his soul. A multi award-winning author of three addictive mystery series, writing guides, and more, Aaron enjoys the Genesee Valley countryside in upstate New York, where his characters embrace life, play with their dogs and grandkids, grow sumptuous gardens, and chase bad guys. Visit his website at http://www.lazarbooks.com and watch for his upcoming releases, DEVIL’S LAKE (2014), SANCTUARY (2014) and VIRTUOSO (2014). You may contact him at aaron.lazar@yahoo.com.

  Twilight Times Books by multi-award winning author Aaron Lazar:

  LEGARDE MYSTERIES

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