Both girls were stunned into silence. They rarely saw their mother cry, and the possibility that she might now break filled them with fright.
Kate lifted her apron to her eyes. “But I will not lose the farm. Your brothers are coming back.” She spun around again, wielding the ladle like a weapon. “Do you hear me? They’re coming back.”
“Yes, Mom,” Jessica said, going to Kate and putting her arms around her.
That one of her children needed her, softened Kate back to calmness. She kissed Jessica’s head and raised her chin. “Don’t you worry. Your brothers will come back. And in the meantime, we’ll manage the farm. Everything will be fine.”
Jessica smiled up at her.
Kate gave her a squeeze, and glanced over at the hardened face of Ursula. With her eyes, Kate asked her to be on her side. “All right, my girls?” she gently asked.
Ursula forced a quick nod. But her arms remained crossed.
Kate shook out her apron, and hung it on the side of the broom closet. A knock came at the kitchen door, and their old farmhand stepped in.
“Come inside, Ed,” said Kate. “Warm yourself with a bowl of stew.”
He held his hat and shuffled around the door. “I’ll be headin’ home. Opal’s got dinner waitin’ for me. I just wanted to let you know – they’ll be bringin’ three POWs from the camp on Wednesday.” His eyes darted to Ursula and back to Kate. “I’ll see you all tomorrow.” He put his hat on and backed out of the door.
Ursula abruptly scooted her chair back and stood. “Don’t expect me to have anything to do with them!” She left the kitchen and ran upstairs.
Kate and Jessica heard stomping and door slamming, and soon the bathwater began to run.
Kate sat down at the large table, six seats empty. She looked up at the ceiling. “She’s growing more and more stubborn. More and more bitter. I don’t know what will become of her.” She placed a saucer over the abandoned bowl of stew to keep it warm.
“She’ll come around, Mom. She wasn’t like this before Francis.”
Jessica buttered a slice of bread, and considered how best to shift the conversation back to safe ground.
“Mom, how am I supposed to make my gingerbread house for the raffle without sugar? We’ll never have enough for all the things we need to bake.”
Kate sighed. “We’ll figure out a way, somehow.”
“I’m going to the Martin farm tomorrow to see if I can trade some butter for some of their sugar coupons. It doesn’t seem right that they get so many just because they have so many kids. They could never use them all.”
“Everyone gets the same amount of ration coupons, per person,” said Kate. “That’s fair.”
“Well I’m going to ask them before Sue Ellen does. Shirley says she’s baking up a storm for the dance, trying to impress Joe Madden with her cooking. All she talks about is her famous apple strudel.” Jessica exchanged a smile with her mother. “I know – it is delicious.”
For the rest of the meal, Kate listened to Jessica talk about the Christmas dance in a few weeks and what she and her best friend, Shirley, were going to wear.
As they finished up, Kate took out a tray and set the bowl of stew and a few buttered slices of bread on it. “Bring this up to her.”
Jessica took the tray upstairs, pushed open the bedroom door, and set the tray on top of the trunk. Ursula sat on the edge of her bed, towel drying her hair. Jessica saw that her eyes were red and swollen, but the anger had died out.
“Your hair smells of lavender,” Jessica said with a smile. “It always reminds me of summer. It’s been two years since we’ve made any lavender oil or soap. I’m going to make some next summer, come what may.”
Ursula smiled at her sister. “The world is falling apart, and you’re worried about lavender soap.”
“We might as well smell nice while everything else is so awful. We need some beauty in our lives.”
“You’re right. In some odd way, that makes perfect sense.”
“The same reason you wear your earrings all the time – even to bed.”
“They help, somehow.” Ursula’s hand went up to her earrings. She looked at her reflection in the mirror, pulling her hair back to see the tiny glints coming off the faceted stones. “They’re a reminder – ”
“I know, I know – they’re going with you to college. But still, there’s nothing wrong with wanting to look pretty, in the meantime.”
Ursula laughed. “There’s not much point in that.”
Jessica went into the adjoining room that she had fixed up as her own private bower, with yellow calico curtains and dried flowers. She claimed that Ursula’s reading light kept her awake, but Ursula knew that she just liked the idea of having her own room.
Jessica washed up and soon returned to Ursula’s room, wearing her nightgown with the embroidered yoke.
“Ursula,” she said gently, “you’re not the only one who loved Francis. We all loved him. And miss him. But you can’t change what happened.”
Ursula turned away and began brushing out her hair.
“I hate the Germans, too, Ursula. And I’m so afraid that one of the others will get hurt. But think of Mom. She lost Dad years ago – and now Francis. I don’t think she could bear to lose the farm. It’s her only connection to them all. It’s what keeps her going – believing that the farm will be waiting for them when they return. We have to do whatever it takes to make sure that happens.”
Ursula studied her little sister. “When did you become so wise?”
Jessica smiled at the rare compliment. “I think when Francis died. We all changed. I’ll never forget Mom’s face when the car brought the telegram. The way she stood on the porch, eyes fixed on that car. She knew. She knew. And she just stood there, waiting, tall and straight. But I saw her. She was shaking. Wondering which one it was. Mom loves us all, but Francis had a special place in her heart. In all our hearts.”
Ursula took the towel and returned to the bathroom, not wanting to cry in front of her sister. The pain was still too raw. She couldn’t bear to talk about Francis. She loved all her siblings, terribly – but Francis – well, he was the best human being that God had ever created.
Chapter 3
*
Lillian stopped by Mancetti’s grocery store on her way home, and though her ration coupons didn’t buy her much, she was able to put together a hasty dinner of meatloaf, potatoes, and canned peas. Since tomorrow was Meatless Tuesday, she was grateful for the small portion of ground beef she had been able to purchase. By adding some chopped vegetables and the dried bread she had been saving, she was able to concoct a meatloaf that the boys seemed to enjoy.
Over dinner, Lillian avoided looking at Gabriel – though seeing Tommy with his black eye now a pale green color, wasn’t helping her aggravation at their behavior. She half-listened as Tommy went on about the holiday Boy Scouts’ projects.
“We’re going to start visiting the wounded soldiers in the hospitals. We made some Christmas decorations for them, and we’re working on a play. Then we’re going to bring them Christmas candy and sing carols.”
Tommy leaned forward for another helping. “And I’m going to tell the soldiers that pretty soon I’ll be old enough. Just a few more years, and I’ll be a pilot and shoot down the Jerrys and Jap, blow them all to pieces.”
Gabriel kept lifting his eyes, waiting for Lillian to look at him, waiting for a break in the wall of silence that excluded him.
“Nothing wrong with bombers,” continued Tommy, “but I’ll be flying a fighter plane. And there’s only one plane for me – the P-38 Lightning.” He used his hand to take off and dive, firing at the enemy. “I’ll dive bomb those Japs and – ”
“I said I was sorry, Mom!” Gabriel blurted out.
Only now did Lillian turn to him, still unsure how she wanted to handle him this time.
“You’ve already told me you were sorry. Twice before! And then you left school again.” She stared at him, considering
what to do. “I have half a mind not to let you go to Scouts.”
Gabriel’s eyes widened in alarm. “I have to go! I’m one of the wise men. It won’t work with just two.”
“We need him, Mom,” said Tommy. “We’re rehearsing for the hospital routine, and Gabriel can sing. You could take away his compass, or make him go to bed an hour early.”
Gabriel looked over at Tommy, hoping he wouldn’t continue with more suggestions.
“I won’t do it again, Mom. I promise.”
“This is the third time, Gabriel. Don’t you understand that it’s a dangerous thing to do? If you fell or got hurt or lost, I wouldn’t even know.”
“I know.” Gabriel scrunched up his face, trying to figure out why he kept doing the things he meant not to. “I really didn’t mean to do it. I just went out to the schoolyard at lunch to test my compass. I was going to go right back. Really, Mom. I was just checking the direction of the park. Billy said it was east, but I thought it must be southeast. And the next thing I knew, there I was, hiking in the park.”
“For two hours!”
“But I didn’t know it was that long.”
She wanted to be angry with him, to scold him and mete out some kind of punishment to prevent him from leaving school again, but his sweet face always melted her. She knew that he was impressionable and had a hard time with routines and rules and restrictions. That dreamy side of him, that she knew he got from her, sometimes worried her.
“What were you doing for so long, Gabe?” asked Tommy.
“I told you. Exploring.”
“It’s Central Park,” Tommy laughed. “Not the Amazon.”
“But it’s practice for when I go there. For when I climb Mount Kilimanjaro and explore the Gobi Desert. By then I’ll know what to do – I’ll be an expert!” His eyes filled with excitement remembering the afternoon’s adventure. “I climbed those big rocks by the lake – ”
“Gabriel!” said Lillian. “You were supposed to be in school. Do you want to flunk and have to repeat the fourth grade? You’ll never get to the Amazon that way. Is that what you want?”
Gabriel had never considered that outcome. He blinked hard and swallowed. “No.”
“Do you want me to lose my job? That’s three times I had to leave work because of you. You cannot do this anymore.” She waited for his acknowledgement. “Do you understand?”
He nodded, but Lillian remained unconvinced. Perhaps she was missing something. Perhaps there was some other reason he wandered away from school.
“You used to love school, Gabriel. What happened? Don’t you like it anymore?”
“I still do. It’s just that – ”
“What?”
He looked around the table, thinking of how to explain. “Sometimes I just feel like running and climbing and discovering things on my own. There’s a lot to learn outside, Mom.”
Lillian let out a deep sigh. Then she placed her hand on Gabriel’s arm. “That’s true, Gabriel, but school is also important. Please don’t run off like that again. It worries me too much.” She leaned forward and rubbed his arm. “I’ll take you to the park on the weekend, all right?”
Gabriel raised his face and smiled politely; she knew immediately that she hadn’t said the right thing.
Lillian wondered if his life felt unsettled with the constant talk of war. Or did her fear and loneliness for Charles spill onto him? Charles had been called away so soon after they had married, and was away at sea for most of the time since then, that he barely had time to bond with the boys. Perhaps they felt his absence more than she realized. Izzy was right; they needed to be around family this time of year. Once again, she considered going upstate to her sister’s. “Would you like to go to Annette’s for Christmas?”
Gabriel’s eyes grew round and he sat up in his chair. Lillian knew that she had said the right thing.
“Can we, please, please? We could go sledding and skating. And we could help Uncle Bernie find a Christmas tree. Can we really go?”
“Only if you promise – no more leaving school.”
“Scout’s honor!” said Gabriel, holding up three fingers in pledge. He leaned forward and took another helping of mashed potatoes.
Tommy now caught the excitement. “Will Danny be there? Oh man, we’ll have so much fun. Can I bring the Spitfire plane I made and show him?”
“Of course you can,” said Lillian. Perhaps that was all they needed, to be away from everything, to enjoy the coziness of a country Christmas. “We’ll find a way for you and Gabriel to spend Christmas there. Even if I have to bring you there and come right back.”
Tommy’s head jerked up. “You mean – spend Christmas without you?”
Gabriel looked at Tommy, then back at Lillian. “We have to be together for Christmas, Mom. Won’t Dad be home by then?”
“I don’t think so, but I’m not sure.” Lillian poured some gravy into the hole Gabriel had made in his mashed potatoes and then emptied the last of it onto Tommy’s second helping. “I’m sure we’ll get a letter soon.”
Both boys sat silent, stunned at the possibility of not being all together for Christmas.
Lillian felt their eyes on her. “I’m thinking of joining an organization called Artists for Victory. On the nights that you boys have Scouts, I might work at one of the hospitals for our wounded servicemen. There’s a meeting tomorrow night that I want to attend.” She turned to Tommy. “Will you keep an eye on Gabriel and not leave the Scouts meeting?”
“Sure, Mom. That’s what I always do. You know that. We’ll just be down the street at Mickey’s.”
“And then I want you to go straight to Mrs. Kuntzman’s. She’s agreed to watch you until I get home.”
Tommy was about to protest that he was almost thirteen years old, but he caught the warning look in Lillian’s eyes and decided against it. Besides, nobody made better Christmas treats than their babysitter.
“What will you do at the hospital?” asked Gabriel.
“I’ll find out more at the meeting. But I think I’ll be giving drawing and painting lessons. Give the soldiers something to work at while they’re recovering.”
“Can I go with you sometime?” asked Gabriel.
Lillian smiled; he always surprised her. “Why would you want to go?”
He shrugged. “Just to see them. Talk to them. And I could help. I could hand out the pencils and paper, or rinse the paint brushes like I do for you.”
Lillian watched Gabriel’s sincere little face, and couldn’t help thinking that he would make the soldiers happy.
“Yeah. I could go, too,” added Tommy. “I could tell them that in four or five years I’ll be able to shoot those stinkin’ Jerrys and Japs. That would definitely make them happy.”
Lillian closed her eyes against the possibility that Tommy and Gabriel would ever have to go to war. “I don’t like all that talk about killing, Tommy.”
“That’s the only thing that will stop them from – ”
“I know, but not from you. You have guns and fighting on your mind too much. Two black eyes in one month? Really, Tommy!”
They continued eating in silence, Lillian trying to think of who might be a good influence on Tommy.
“Why don’t you invite Amy over to study this week?”
“Nah,” said Tommy. “She’s busy with her science club and Girl Scout stuff. Besides, she kind of talks a lot.”
“Well, maybe that’s because she has a lot to say,” Lillian said, trying not to smile. She had noticed that whenever Amy was with Tommy, she did all the talking. Yet in spite of Tommy’s comment, Lillian was sure that his sweet spot for Amy had not diminished.
Tommy lifted and dropped one shoulder. “I guess so.”
“Could I go sometime, Mom?” asked Gabriel. “To the hospital?”
“We’ll see,” she said. “Let me go to the meeting tomorrow and see what it’s all about.” She glanced at the clock. “You better hurry to your Scouts meeting – Mickey and Billy will b
e wondering where you are.”
The boys washed up and put on their Scout shirts and scarves. Lillian overheard Tommy telling Gabriel that in a few years he would have a real uniform – then Hitler, watch out!
The thought that the war might persist until the boys were old enough to fight filled her with dread. She constantly told herself that it couldn’t possibly last that long.
She cleared the table and washed the dishes. After the boys left, she took up her needles and yarn, and curled up on the couch, listening to music on the radio. She usually spent part of her evenings knitting for Bundles for Bluejackets. Though she used to enjoy the time alone when the boys were at Scouts, lately she found herself waiting for it to be over. And the longer Charles was away, the worse the feeling seemed to get. She stared at the cold, empty grate of the fireplace, her hands and the ball of yarn resting on her lap. She had become a worrier this past year, imagining all sorts of horrible things. What it would be like to die an icy death. What it would be like to come home wounded. What if the war lasted years and years. What if Charles –
There were some thoughts she would not allow to take shape. She picked up her knitting, and cast on a few stitches. Teaching drawing to the soldiers. Now that was something new. It would help keep her mind off other things.
She tried to imagine herself in that role – and she drew a blank. What exactly would she teach? How many students would she have? Would she have to start at the beginning? And where was the beginning?
She set her knitting down and went to the bookshelves, looking for her old art books. She lifted the wedding picture of her and Charles, taken almost two years ago. Her heart swelled as she filled her gaze with his smiling face. He was so handsome. A longing rose up inside her, which she quickly suppressed. She had learned not to indulge in her yearning for Charles. She kissed the photograph, set it back on the shelf, and then looked for her art books.
Christmastime 1943 Page 3