The audience's approval echoed through the building as the last note faded. Bob squeezed Irene, and pressed a chaste kiss to her forehead. When they made eye contact again, Irene knew for certain that she loved this man with all her being.
Her knees became rubbery at this revelation. With Bob there to support her, however, she had no worries that she'd actually collapse. It became imperative for her to tell him about her discovery.
She stood on the tips of her toes to whisper in his ear. “I love you."
He swung her around into an embrace. His lips grazed her ear when he replied, “I know. I love you, too."
Sissy Irene, I'm a nurse, and let's leave it at that. Marv was badly wounded on ... but I receive periodic letters from him. He had leave just before ... and he came to ... and proposed! I'm so thrilled. I can't wait to see you. Perhaps now that the Allies have the upper-hand here in ... we'll soon see an end to the war. Give my best to Mother and Father. Love, Sissy R...
CHAPTER SEVEN
Irene snuggled into Bob's one-armed embrace as she brought a lacy handkerchief to her eyes. With her free hand, she clasped Sissy Rose's gloved hand. On the other side of Sissy Rose, their father stood, ramrod stiff. Proud still, even in his grief.
Irene couldn't bring herself to look at the coffin. Her heart broke right in half when she'd received her father's telegram only four days previously, informing her that her mother had passed away in her sleep. The chance to mend their break had been so cruelly taken away.
Now, Irene had to deal with her father's disapproval. At least she had Sissy Rose there to bolster her courage. Sissy wore her dress uniform, as she hadn't been mustered out of the Army yet. No, there were still too many men wounded during the D-Day invasion who needed to be nursed back to health, and Sissy Rose would be reporting to a stateside Army hospital in a few weeks.
Overhead, a bird wheeled about in a circle. The minister's quiet words at the grave-side carried on the minuscule breeze. On the other side of the coffin, elderly Miss Violet Millbain stood as erect as her frail body allowed.
The service ended. Irene stood with her sister and father as mourners passed by them, offering condolences. Miss Violet paused long enough to tell Irene, “Lovely of Mr. Hobart to bring you home himself. I approve, my dear."
"I prefer to walk. The rest of the day is for family,” Mr. Albright announced when Irene and Rose escorted him towards Bob's car, after all the mourners had left. Bob graciously provided the transportation to the funeral as Rose didn't drive, Irene's driving was scary, and Mr. Albright was in no condition to drive anywhere.
"That's not very nice to Mr. Hobart, Father,” Rose chided. “He was kind enough to..."
"I will walk. It's mortifying enough that your sister brought him home with her, to your mother's funeral, knowing as she does how Mother felt about this entire orchestra affair.” Mr. Albright whispered furious words. His eyes darted back and forth, as if he was on the lookout.
Stricken, Irene lowered her head. She'd been making progress in her reconciliation with her mother. Her last few letters hadn't been returned, unopened. There had been a reason to hold onto a speck of hope.
"That's ridiculous,” Rose snapped. “It's been a long day. You're in no condition to walk more than three steps to the car. I'm a nurse, and I recognize fatigue when I see it. Let us take care of you."
Irene sat in the front seat, next to Bob, during the short, tense ride back to the house. She tried very hard to ignore the terse whispers coming from the back seat, afraid Bob would hear the rude comments her father hissed at Sissy Rose. Mortification set in when Irene heard her father proclaim her to be a hussy. He didn't even whisper. Everyone heard the peevish comment.
Sissy Rose strode right into the awkward silence that ensued. “That's it. I'm going to put you on a healthy diet. Obviously, you're constipated, and it's affecting your thinking. As much as we all loved Mother and will miss her, her cooking could bring an entire regiment to a complete halt. A shortage of toilet tissue wouldn't be a major catastrophe."
Bob parked before the Albright home. Mr. Albright and Sissy Rose alighted from the car almost before it stopped.
"I apologize for my family,” Irene said. She angled herself to face Bob. He gripped the steering wheel with both hands. “Would you like to come in? We have casseroles for months."
"Your father doesn't want me there,” Bob declined.
"I want you there,” Irene confessed. “I've rather gotten used to having you around."
Bob glanced at her out of the corner of his eyes. “I'm rather fond of you myself, Irene. But I don't want to make a difficult situation even more so for you."
She nodded numbly. “Are you staying in town?"
"How else are you going to rejoin the orchestra? Walk to us?” Bob nudged her with his elbow.
"I could drive. You taught me how."
Bob's face paled. “Do the world a favor, honey. Don't drive. You know where I'm staying."
"At least walk me to the door? Please?” She knew she sounded pathetic, but she honestly had no idea how she would get through the next several hours without him around. Prolonging the inevitable seemed her only option.
"You bet."
They climbed out of the car, and stared up at the worn house that towered over them. Bob tucked his arm around hers. “When the time is more appropriate, Irene, I'd like to ask you a question."
They halted on the lowest step that led up to the porch. The house loomed over them. Irene felt the vestiges of that old familiar sensation of being suffocated. “Something to look forward to,” she said. She hoped her guess about the nature of his question was right. It held back the menacing darkness that threatened to overwhelm her.
Bob cupped her face in his hands, and pressed his forehead against hers. “You know I love you, don't you?"
"Yes, I know.” Irene grasped his wrists. “I love you too."
"Quit making a scene out there on the porch. What will the neighbors think, you carrying on like a common woman. Such shameful behavior. Is this how you honor your mother?"
"I'll call you later,” Bob promised.
"I'll be sitting by the phone."
* * * *
Irene admired the diamond that sparkled on Sissy Rose's finger. The afternoon and early evening passed with all the alacrity of a snail making tracks through molasses. Ten minutes after he finished picking through his supper, their father excused himself and went to bed.
The sisters now had the front parlor to themselves. Time to catch up with each other.
"Oh, Sissy. It's beautiful. Details, please.” Irene curled her legs beneath herself and settled into the high-backed old-fashioned sofa. Irene let Rose's hand go after she studied the solitaire engagement ring her sister wore.
The phone sat on the table beside her.
"Well, Marv commanded one of the companies that landed on Omaha beach. He doesn't say much about what happened. He's still in the hospital, back in Europe.” Sissy Rose held her left hand angled just so in the sunlight to admire her ring.
"He was wounded? Very badly?"
"His eyesight will never be the same, and he'll need to use a cane, but he survived.” Sissy Rose sounded proud. “He'd been wounded before, you know. That's when I first met him. He asked me to marry him just before I received the telegram about Mother."
"How will you find him again?"
Sissy Rose smiled. “We write to each other. We developed a code, so I'll know. Now, tell me all about Mr. Hobart. I'll have you know, I cheered aloud when I got your letter that you'd joined the orchestra, despite the parents’ objections. Good for you."
"He's wonderful, Sissy. I think he's going to ask me to marry him. He promised to call this evening.” Irene paused. She heaved a tremendous sigh. “I feel badly that Mother's gone now, but part of me is relieved. This is evil, and I'm going to hell, right?"
"No, you aren't evil and you aren't going to hell, Sissy.” Rose joined Irene on the uncomfortable sofa. “We were rai
sed by very rigid parents. We've both discovered there's more to life than the narrow world Mother and Father lived in—that we lived in as we grew up. I'm sad Mother's life was so short, but she's in Heaven now, where she's always wanted to be. We can weep for her absence, but she'd want us to rejoice that she's with her Lord now."
Irene sniffled, and nodded. “I thought the same thing, but part of me wondered if I should feel worse than I do. You think that Father misses her?"
Sissy Rose shrugged. A quizzical grimace crossed her face as she gave her answer. “It's hard to tell. They never showed much emotion, other than disapproval."
"What are we going to do about him? I want to go back with Bob, and you're going to be at an Army hospital."
"I'm sure he'll want to discuss that soon enough. I want more details about singing with the orchestra, and Mr. Hobart, of course,” Sissy Rose said. She put an arm around Irene's shoulder.
"Oh, I love singing for an audience. I hated it at first, but it's rather enjoyable now. Bob tried to teach me how to drive, and I'm just dismal behind the steering wheel. I've made friends with all the orchestra wives, and the men look out for me like I was their little sister. They give Bob grief about all the time we spend kissing in closets."
"Kissing in closets?” Rose giggled. “Marv and I once were caught kissing in the supply closet, by the chief nurse. She asked for a vial of morphine, then ordered us to carry on."
The sisters laughed together over that admission. “You remember how we used to discuss the kind of men we wanted to marry when we grew up?” Irene asked after they subsided.
"Yes, I do. What silly, romantic fools we were.” Sissy Rose fanned her face.
"I don't think Bob is anything like my dream husband."
"No?"
"No. He's better."
"As is Marv."
The phone rang, causing the sisters to jump with surprise. Sissy Rose stood up and stretched. “That will be for you. I'll say goodnight. See you in the morning."
Irene reached for the phone as it trilled again. “Hello, Bob."
* * * *
"As Rose has obligations to the Army for another six months, Irene, you'll have to come home to take care of things."
The Albright family sat around the small square table in the kitchen. The rickety chair creaked when Irene shifted. Her fork hovered inches away from her mouth, held in a grip that tightened painfully at her father's announcement.
"I'm just as obligated to the orchestra as Sissy is to the Army,” Irene protested. She lowered her fork to her relentlessly white china plate.
The repressive glare that her father directed at her chilled Irene. She pushed a piece of pancake around to sop up the excess syrup while she gathered her thoughts. “I'm sure we could find you a suitable housekeeper, Father."
"Why on earth would I pay a housekeeper when I have two daughters to look after me for free?” Father sipped at his coffee, his eyebrows drawn together at the bridge of his nose.
"Because your daughters are grown and starting their own lives,” Rose pointed out. Irene admired her sister's respectful tone, and wanted to cheer at Sissy's words. “I'm engaged to be married, and I'm sure that Sissy will be engaged to Mr. Hobart very soon, too. You can't keep us from our lives, Father. It's selfish and unrealistic. Of course, Sissy and I will check on you, make sure you're fine, visit and all that good stuff, but you can't seriously think we're going to put our lives on hold to babysit you."
"That's a fine how-do-you-do,” Father grumbled. “Your mother would be disappointed."
Sissy Rose sighed at the same time Irene did. Irene surprised herself, however, and responded to their father, rather than waiting for Sissy to do it. “Father, it isn't fair to use Mother against us that way. If she were still with us, then this would be a moot point. She'd be encouraging us to marry and start our own families. So would you, for that matter."
"The point is that your mother is gone, and that changes everything.” Father's stubborn persistence manifested not only in his words, but in the way he stuck his pointed chin out.
"Hogwash,” Sissy Rose snapped. She stood up and threw her napkin down on her plate. “You and Mother took all the joy you could out of our childhood. I'll be damned if I'll let you do that to us in our adulthood. You really need to ingest more fiber to take care of your constipation."
Irene watched her sister stomp from the kitchen. My, Sissy must have found her temper over there in England. Father continued to eat as if Sissy Rose's outburst hadn't occurred. All he said was, “I always knew women were too delicate to serve in the military."
"Mercy sakes alive.” Irene shoved her plate towards the middle of the table. “I'm going out.” The time had come for her to grab for her life with both hands. Hold on with unrelenting force, for if she didn't do it now, she'd be sucked into the role her father wished to her to fill. She'd come too far—enjoyed the life she'd found too much to give it up. Selfish, maybe, but she couldn't bear the thought of becoming a spinster lady who talked to her cats.
"Who's going to do the dishes?"
* * * *
Irene took a deep breath, grateful to be out of the house and away from her self-centered father. How mother had put up with that, Irene had no idea. Perhaps he simply missed mother, but didn't know how to express those feelings. The farther she walked from her house, the better she began to feel. Bob would be waiting for her at the fountain.
She loved the fresh, earthy aroma that filled the air at the town square. She inhaled several more times as she took the path that led to an arrangements of benches around the large fountain. Oh, how she savored the natural scent that surrounded her. The soil in the flower beds still showed the neat rows left by a rake, and new flowers bloomed around the borders.
Her little slice of heaven, made even better with Bob's presence. She was glad she'd taken a moment before leaving the house to call him—letting him know where to find her. The sunshine helped somewhat to dispel the gloom that hovered over her, but it really was Bob being there with her that brought joy into her world.
He stood at her side now, close enough to hold her hand in his. “Sounds like you had a rough morning."
She took a deep breath. “Father is set in his ways. Things are the way they are to him. Women have little value in his world, other than to serve him. Mother wore herself out taking care of him. Now he's convinced I'll drop everything to fill her shoes, because that's just the way it is in his narrow little world."
"What do you want to do?” Bob rubbed his thumb against her skin.
"Go back to singing with the orchestra. Be with you."
"I'd like that too, but Irene, I can't come between you and your father.” A wealth of regret tinged his words. “Family is precious."
"I couldn't imagine my life without Sissy Rose,” Irene confessed. “But I can't go back to the joyless life I had before I met you. Before I took a chance and sang with the orchestra. I won't go back to the way things were. I can't squeeze myself into the mold Father favors. How can you think I would, after this life you introduced me to?"
Bob gazed thoughtfully into the distance. “I know the timing for this is terrible, but quite honestly, I'd been thinking about this a lot recently. Working up the courage, actually, to do this."
They ambled hand-in-hand to a wooden bench and sat down. A bird flittered around the fountain, dipping in for a little bath. Overhead, a few clouds chased each other across the bright blue expanse of sky.
Bob continued, “You see, I've been traveling with the orchestra for a couple of years now. I became an uncle at the beginning of the year, and that started me thinking about how I want my own family. Then I met you. I didn't need to think about it any more. I knew I wanted you to be a part of my family."
"I didn't know you were an uncle,” Irene said.
"Yep. Uncle Bob, that's me. I have a niece named Carol Cynthia. You sure pick up on strange things, Irene."
She pressed the back of her hand against her mouth, to st
ifle a giggle at his chagrin. “I assumed you'd get around to the important part sooner or later."
"Yes, I will. I think the men are getting tired of traveling, too. Many of them liked Glen Meadow. I believe that if offered the option, they'd be willing to make this our base, and travel only on weekends. We're obligated for the next four months, but after that, we could make the transition. This might be a good way for you to stay with the orchestra and take care of your father."
Irene nodded. “Sounds like a sensible plan. And the important part?” She held her breath, certain of what he was about to say, but jittery with excited nerves. Surely the pounding of her heart could be heard by all the citizens of Glen Meadow.
Bob cast a sidelong glance at her. His eyes twinkled with a boyish mischief. “Will you marry me?"
"I thought you'd never ask!"
The Long Way Home
by
Shara Jones
CHAPTER ONE
"Heckadoodle, Pops! I'm only going as far as Sill River to cover the new restaurant opening for the Bugle, not traveling to China.” Tamryn Miller peered into the uppermost Styrofoam container, which balanced atop several more such containers. “I'll be as fat as Mr. Poke if I try to eat all this. No can do. Besides, I'm not leaving until my shift is over."
The hallmark aroma of Pops’ Diner's famous peach cobbler wafted from the white foam box. Maybe being the size of a small nation wouldn't be that bad after all.
"You could never be fat like that pig, and peach cobbler is best eaten warm. I'll dish you up some more before you go. And I hadn't planned for you to eat all that on your own. I thought you'd like the company of a fellow journalist along for the ride."
Pops stepped through the kitchen's swinging door while he dried his beefy hands on the white apron tied around his paunchy middle. “Guess who is back in town? Figure he might try to lure you away with a promise of a big city job?"
Pops' Diner, an Anthology [A Pops' Girls Anthology] Page 5