by Linda Ellen
Tom let out a snort of laughter as the rest groaned in the affirmative.
The “young folks”, who were now middle-aged and senior citizens, rose rather stiffly to gather their belongings in preparation to make their trip home. They would be leaving Louise in her new, much smaller house, where she would be on her own for the first time in her life. They had done everything they could to ensure her comfort on her first night.
“But I want to hear more,” David complained, before laughing as his father laid a hand on his shoulder and quipped, “Next time, son. Your old man’s tired!” Louise’s grandson, a confident man with an important job as a computer network administrator, sent his father a look of slight contrition.
Buddy helped Louise get up off the couch and she walked them all to the door to say goodnight as they filed out into the cool spring evening air.
Stretching up to give David a kiss on the cheek, Louise queried enthusiastically, eyebrows rising in eagerness, “You come over tomorrow to help me unpack boxes?”
“Sure I will,” he nodded and leaned down to give her a hug.
“Good, and we’ll have more pizza – and I’ll tell you all about when my Vic finally got the break he deserved… he got his Bold Venture.”
The End
The Real Vic and Louise, shortly after their Reunion.
Step back in time again to the 1940’s with the sequel to Once in a While – The Bold Venture, on sale now. Here’s a sample:
THE BOLD VENTURE
CHAPTER 1
You’re Stuck with Me
May 1941
Louise Hoskins stirred in the bed, wincing a bit as her stitches caused her some pain. Silently berating herself for her aggravating the still healing wound from the recent surgery she had been forced to endure to repair a ruptured tubal pregnancy, she opened sleepy hazel eyes, only to immediately squint against a bright beam of morning sun. It was just beginning to shine through the tall windows at the end of the rows of beds in the narrow, high-ceilinged room; one of the large third-floor wards in the city hospital.
Glancing around, she emitted a tiny sigh, slightly aggravated that the sunshine had interrupted the wonderful dream she had been having about a certain dark-haired, dark-eyed dreamboat… Vic Matthews.
The corners of her lips rose then in a contented smile as she thought about him…the man she had dreamt of and thought about every day since they had met that rainy night so long ago. Vic had knocked on the door of her family’s apartment, and when she had opened the portal, she had taken one look at him and felt her heart leave her chest and merge with his. Even as that thought crossed her mind, she knew it sounded silly, but it was true. A line from the play she had been in floated through her memory – taken from A Red, Red Rose, the old poem by Robert Burns – and it made her smile softly. Vic Matthews was the man her heart would adore, as the poem put it, ‘Until all the seas gang dry.’ She closed her eyes, trying in vain to re-enter the world of her dream.
A few minutes later, the other occupants of the large ward began to stir. Verna Mae Peterson, the friendliest and most efficient nurse in the hospital, came through the doorway just then. It being the beginning of the workday, her short sleeve, starched, white uniform was still crisp, her nurse’s cap pinned securely toward the back of her wavy auburn hair. Several male kitchen workers, each wearing the customary white shirt, white pants, white apron, and matching cap, filed in behind, while wheeling carts laden with breakfast.
“Good morning, ladies,” Verna Mae greeted the room at large, which sported twenty beds, ten per side. Beaming her cheery grin, she commenced her early morning ritual at the first bed, checking the patient’s temperature and other vitals while the kitchen helpers began to place the trays on the ladies’ bedside tables.
When Verna had completed her duties with the first patient, a thirty-year-old married woman named Angie Greene with one leg in a cast from hip to toe, she turned to retrieve a tray and deposited it carefully on the patient’s lap. Taking the time to make sure everything was within reach, she earned a grateful smile from her patient.
Rounding the bed, she came to Louise’s side and reached for her wrist. Louise shifted a bit as Verna glanced up from perusing her watch and counting pulse beats. “And how are you this fine morning, Miss Mary Louise?”
Smoothing the covers on the bed, Louise smiled a trifle wanly up at her. “I feel pretty good. I’m not hurting as much today.”
“That’s good,” Verna nodded satisfactorily. “And is that handsome suitor coming to visit you again today?” The nurse asked Louise with a wink, having been on duty several times when Vic had come for his daily visits.
This brought a mischievous grin to Louise’s countenance and she cast another glance at the busy, but friendly nurse. “He’d better,” she teased.
“Oh, you’ve got nothing to worry about…from what I’ve seen, you’ve got that man wrapped completely around your pinky,” Verna chuckled as she pulled back Louise’s covers and set about checking the large incision on her midsection.
Louise giggled, absolute joy suffusing her body and soul at the thought of what the future would hold…if she could indeed share it with Vic.
Just then, the ward mate the others had swiftly nicknamed “Grouchy Gladys”, a fifty-something matron named Gladys Cromley, who had been in an automobile wreck and suffered multiple injuries, looked up from her breakfast tray and scowled at Louise in the bed directly across from hers. “I understood that you are a married woman, Mrs. Blankenbaker. In my book, no respectable married lady would entertain a man to whom she was not married – and her in bed and not dressed decent! Have you no morals? Why—”
“Yes, I have morals!” Louise interrupted, shocked and hurt at the vehemence the other woman was suddenly projecting. “You have no idea what my life is like, and you have no right to judge me,” she added as she cast her a decidedly aggravated look past Verna’s shoulder, wincing as the nurse pressed gently against her incision.
The woman sniffed her disapproval, her nose tilted high as the ladies nearby glanced at one another uncomfortably. “From what we’ve all seen—”
“Oh, get off her back, Gladys!” Angie began, in defense of her new friend.
“Now, now, ladies, let’s not get our feathers ruffled,” Nurse Verna soothed. The kind woman knew some of Louise’s story, including the fact that she was, indeed, married, but her husband had skipped town and no one could seem to find him. Privately, Nurse Verna sent Louise a wink and whispered, “Don’t pay her any mind…she’s just jealous.”
Louise smiled appreciatively at the friendly nurse, her agitation subsiding a bit. “Thank you.”
Glancing over her shoulder at Gladys, the kind nurse murmured confidentially, “Far as I know, her husband and sons have only come to see her once. But I don’t really blame them, as she did nothing but complain and gripe the whole time they were here.”
Evie Noonan, a twenty-five-year-old single woman who had barely missed having her appendix rupture before it could be removed, gave out an unladylike snort from the bed next to Gladys, quipping, “I’d sure love it if a dreamboat like Vic came to see me!”
“He’s a cutie all right. Reminds me of my Ben when we first met,” Angie purred, speaking of her husband, who happened to be ten years her senior. “And that reminds me, he said he’d be up to see me today.”
“The aides will be coming around with sponge baths in a few minutes,” Verna offered, figuring correctly that the women would all be glad to hear that.
Angie reached up to touch her scalp, cringing, “Oh, what I wouldn’t give to wash my hair.”
Verna smiled understandingly and called over her shoulder as she moved on down the line of beds, “I think that can be arranged, but you’ll have to towel it dry…”
“Me, too!” “Oh, and me!” the other ladies began calling one by one, including Louise.
Still in a feisty mood, the one named Evie teased, “Maybe if I get all dolled up, I might have a chance at c
atching Vic’s eye.” She met Louise’s gaze and winked.
“He better not, if he knows what’s good for him,” Louise teased back good-naturedly.
“Oh honey, you’ve got no worries in that department,” Louise’s new friend Angie murmured as she took a large bite of her scrambled eggs. “That man has eyes for no one but you. Smitten. That’s what he is. Clear down to his socks.”
Louise picked up a piece of toast from the tray that had been placed on her lap, took a small bite and let out a delighted chuckle.
Smitten. That was the word for it…and for what she felt for him. Clear down to the seam in my stockings! With another chuckle, she hurried through her bland tasting hospital breakfast so that she would have time to wash and begin drying her hair before visiting hours started…and she could see Vic again.
*
An hour later, Louise sat propped up with pillows. In a fresh hospital gown and feeling much better after her sponge bath, she sat rhythmically drawing a brush through her freshly washed, nearly dry dark brown hair. Reaching a bit too far toward her bedside table to get her glass of ice water, she grimaced as her incision once again reminded her of its existence. Bracing herself with her other hand, she retrieved the glass and took a long drink before settling back against the pillows.
The other ladies in the ward, in various stages of infirmity, were either lying in their beds staring at the ceiling counting chips in the paint, talking among themselves, or were up shuffling around in their decidedly unattractive hospital robes. The doctors had maintained that Louise remain bedfast for at least a week to allow the internal stitches to heal – and she had no desire to test the waters on that score. However, she did miss Tommy, her little boy, and pined for him terribly. But the hospital had strict rules against children being allowed in the wards.
Sighing softly, she resumed her vigil of watching the doorway, longing for the delightful sight of Vic’s head, with that wonderfully wavy hair, peeking around the corner at her before he grinned teasingly and strode on in. Vic made her feel so good…so loved, cared for, and cherished. For so long she had thought she would never have the privilege and the blessing of being loved like that. It was truly a dream come true.
Louise had no doubt Vic would come, as he had come to see her, and remained most of the day, every day since her surgery. She knew he was staying with Alec and Fleet – Vic and Louise’s best friends whom had married after a temptestuous courtship – and it meant the world to her that he checked on Tommy before and after he came to see her.
It was Vic who had filled her in on the details of what had happened, beyond the complicated medical explanations the doctor had given. She had, indeed, been pregnant again, and had lost the baby, quite painfully, there on the shores of the Ohio. Vic had confided, with tears forming in those beloved brown eyes, that the doctors admitted she would have bled to death if he had not acted quickly and rushed her to the hospital – not to mention, donating some of his own blood to save her life.
The thought of how close she had come to leaving this world made a shiver run down her spine, and she purposely turned her thoughts to other things. In the days since her surgery, her brother Sonny and his wife Sara, and Alec and Fleet, had come to see her several times, as well as her and Vic’s dear friend Irene Waller, and even Pastor Harold “Doc” Latham, Vic’s friend and mentor from the harrowing days surrounding the ’37 Flood.
In the weeks since Louise and her estranged husband, T.J. Blankenbaker, had parted ways, she had gotten to know Doc, the man who had become such an important part of Vic’s life. He truly was a man ‘larger than life’, with his booming voice and jovial personality. Although she had heard many “Doc” stories during the months she and Vic had dated, she had never had the privilege of meeting him until he had come to see her at Miss Irene’s apartment. It was that night that she learned to be very glad that Vic had such a friend in his corner. She could see in his eyes how much he truly cared for the man she loved. It made up, just a little, for the people in Vic’s life who had let him down and hurt him.
That thought led inevitably to people in her own life who had been an instrument of hurt…like T.J.’s mother and father. Louise had been quite surprised two days after her surgery when Mr. and Mrs. Blankenbaker had deemed to pay her a visit. It was, to say the least, quite uncomfortable – and terribly obvious that they were only there out of a sense of obligation, not stemming from any feeling for her. After a few minutes of stilted and polite conversation, the Mr. asked after his grandson. Louise, feeling a surge of contrariness, returned that Tommy was being cared for quite aptly. She stared back at the man as if daring him to question further. However, the small amount of glee she felt at that triumph quickly flew out the window when several minutes later she inquired after T.J., with the understandable desire to find out when he would begin sending regular support payments for his son. The visitors exchanged a glance and the old man met Louise’s eyes with a believably innocent expression as he uttered, “We don’t know where he is; we haven’t heard from him.” Score one for the opposition. The entire exchange resulted in a stalemate. Seething dislike was unmistakable from both sides.
Vic had stepped out for a few minutes after they had arrived, and when he returned, his hackles immediately rose in response to the frosty treatment he received from the older couple. This caused him to immediately move to the head of the bed and with a possessive hand on Louise’s shoulder, made no bones about showing them that Louise was no longer alone to face their scorn and emotional shenanigans. Within a very few minutes, the Blankenbakers bid Louise goodbye, inclined a forced acknowledgement toward Vic, and left, much to Louise’s relief. They hadn’t returned.
Pensively moving the brush through a lock of her hair, Louise emitted a soft hum as she once again steered her mind to happier things. Like Vic, and the bright future about which she had begun allowing herself to dream.
Just then glancing back at the doorway, her eyes lit up and her mouth immediately transformed into a lovely smile as she encountered the sight she had been longing to see – Vic peeking around the doorjamb, grinning at her. When he saw she had seen him, he straightened up and came sauntering in, his right hand behind his back. Her gaze feasted on him. From the top of his head and that wavy brown hair, to his freshly shaven face, twinkling eyes and gleaming smile, to his light blue short-sleeve cotton shirt unbuttoned at the neck and showing a peek of his white undershirt beneath, he was a delectable vision. His tanned muscled arm sported a wristwatch, something that he hadn’t owned when she had known him four years before.
Glancing around momentarily at the other ladies nearby, he nodded a polite greeting.
“There he is, right on time. Hey…those for me?” Evie teased with a grin.
“Not this time, sorry,” Vic responded, sending a wink her way. He glanced toward Gladys, but was met with her usual sour expression. Angie called a greeting from within her husband’s arms, and he turned his head and nodded at them both. The other ladies nearby, who weren’t visiting with their own guests, nodded his way politely. He responded in kind before his eyes met Louise’s again.
“Hey…” he murmured, moving all the way to Louise and bending down for a sweet, slow delicious kiss. Each one gloried in the feel and taste of the other. For Louise, she basked in the heady scent of Old Spice aftershave clinging to Vic’s smooth cheeks and the pleasant taste of red soda on his lips. Vic closed his eyes and breathed in the sweet scent of his love, a pleasant combination of shampoo and body powder, also noticing the clean taste of toothpaste where she had brushed her teeth after her bath.
When he leaned back, he gazed into her eyes for a moment as if checking to see how she was feeling. Satisfied with what he saw, he smiled that dimpled grin she loved and with an exaggerated flourish, brought his right hand around and revealed his hidden gift – a lovely bouquet of red roses in a cut glass vase.
“Oh Vic! They’re beautiful!” she gasped as she took them. Bringing them delicately to her nose,
she closed her eyes and inhaled their sweet fragrance. When she opened them again, he was gazing at her with that look of absolute adoration that always filled her heart with effervescent happiness. “Thank you,” she whispered lovingly.
“You’re welcome. You said red roses are your favorite, right? And this…” he added as he leaned down again to place a big, firm kiss on her cheek, “is from Tommy. He made me promise I’d give you that.”
She giggled at his playfulness, correctly imagining the precious way her little boy would have looked and sounded as he had given that request.
“How’s he doing? Is he all right? And Miss Irene… is he running her ragged? I miss him so much,” she admitted, breathing in quickly to ward off a feeling of melancholy that would overtake her regarding her son, if she allowed it.
“He’s fine, and so’s Irene. She said to tell ya – again – to not worry about anything except gettin’ well.” Remembering his conversation with their dear friend, he chuckled and added, “She said to tell you she took Tommy with her to her ladies’ meeting yesterday and he was the star of the meeting – and now he has a dozen ‘Aunts’ to add to his collection.”
Louise laughed understandably and nodded, “I bet. He already knows how to wrap you around his finger and get what he wants. I can tell already he’s going to be a lady’s man when he grows up…those big blue eyes, dimples, wavy hair…” she paused, realizing she was describing the features her son had inherited from his father.
Vic didn’t seem to mind, merely nodded agreement and settled down to make himself comfortable on the side of the bed. For a few seconds he fought to mask the sting her last comment caused, but he was determined to not upset her further by showing the depth of his jealousy. Instead, he reached to take the roses from her and placed the vase on her bedside table.