When Tomorrow Comes

by Janette Oke

  “Then maybe we should all go for a ride. The roads are good. We could drive to the outlook point and show Danny the stars. I used to be a real nut about the night sky when I was growing up. I spent hours looking for the different constellations. No northern lights here, but we can see some stars—like you could reach up and touch them.”

  Christine started to decline, but Danny was already cheering. What good excuse did she have for disappointing him?

  She nodded, and Danny ran for his coat and boots.

  It turned out to be a pleasant enough evening. Once they left the lights of the town, the stars seemed to pop out of the blackness. The farther they traveled, the brighter the stars became.

  “Wow,” said Danny, leaning back to gaze upward out his window. “They are really big. And so many. Did you know there were so many?”

  Laray smiled.

  “Do you think there are hundreds?” Danny continued.

  “Way more than hundreds.”

  “Did you count them?”

  “No one has counted them.”

  “Bet God has.”

  “I think you’re right.”

  “Do they got names?”

  “Yeah, I think many of them do. Some were named even before Job’s time. He talks about them in the Bible, chapter nine. Orion. The Bear. Pleiades. I’ll show you.”

  Christine was impressed with Laray’s knowledge of the Scriptures.

  Laray pulled over and stopped the car. From their vantage point, the whole canopy above was on display. Not a cloud hid from view any of the myriad of stars that twinkled above them.

  “Now, if we just had us some northern lights it would be about perfect,” Laray commented.

  “Perfect,” repeated Christine.

  “What are north’ren lights?”

  “Northern,” Christine explained. “In the North. Lights. Special lights that God has placed in the skies. They are all colors and they dance and . . . they aren’t like the stars that just twinkle. They are . . . are whole . . . whole sheets of light that change and move and . . .” Christine stopped. How did one explain the northern lights to a small boy?

  “Like lightning?”

  “Something like lightning . . . but different. I guess there is really nothing like them to compare them to.”

  “I’d like to see them.”

  “Maybe one day your daddy—or your grandpa—can take you there.”

  “I’d like that.”

  Christine was quick to caution, “That’s not a promise. That was just a . . . a maybe . . . someday.”

  Danny nodded solemnly. Christine hoped he understood.

  The astronomy lesson began in earnest with Laray pointing out and naming the various visible stars and planets. Christine was amazed at how much he knew. To help Danny locate what he was pointing to, he drew diagrams in the snow. “And this is Orion. The star points are like this and the outline of the hunter is here—like this.”

  Danny looked from the diagram to the skies. “I can see it,” he shouted. “I see him. Right there. See.”

  “Look,” Christine cried as a star went streaking down through the sky, leaving a long, bright tail in its wake. “A falling star.”

  Danny stood openmouthed until the last glimmer of light died away.

  “Why did it do that?” He turned to Laray.

  “I don’t think anyone knows for sure.”

  “Where did it go?”

  “It burns out—as it falls.”

  “Now God doesn’t have that one anymore.” Danny sounded so sad that Christine found herself reaching an arm around his shoulder. Even Laray seemed affected by the young boy’s disappointment. It would not do to tell Danny that God had millions of stars. That one really didn’t matter. Instead, Laray wisely turned the small boy’s attention back to the ones still there.

  Laray finally checked his watch. “Guess it’s your bedtime.” Christine couldn’t believe how quickly the time had slipped by.

  Danny knew better than to object. “Can we do this again?” he asked instead.

  “Sure. Why not? The stars are up there every night.”

  “Sometimes we can’t see them.”

  Laray took Danny’s hand. “Sometimes we can’t—but they’re there all the same.”

  It was a quiet trip back to town. Laray did not suggest that he come in with them. He walked the two up to the door and waited until Christine had turned on the light, then bid them a good-night.

  Danny was washed and pajama-clad and tucked in bed.

  Christine smiled at his evening prayer. Besides his usual entreaties, he had added one more. “And, God, please don’t let too many of your stars fall, ’cause I like to look at them.”

  Christine kissed his cheek and tucked the covers around his chin.

  Back in the living room she stirred up the fire and fed it another log. Not for the warmth needed, but for the comfort. For some reason she could not explain, she felt strangely lonely. She wondered if it had something to do with that falling star that had just been lost forever.

  Laray called the next day. “Since you were so kind and invited me to supper last night, I thought I should take you and Danny out tonight. How about it?”

  It sounded appealing, but even as the words of acceptance were on her lips she wondered if she was being wise.

  “From now on I have the evening shift until your brother is back again. This would be my only chance.”

  That settled it. She could not turn him down.

  “That would be very nice,” she heard herself saying.

  “Good. I’ll pick you up about six. Sound okay?”

  “That will be fine.”

  Whether it was the fact that Christine did not have to busy her mind or her hands with supper preparations—or some other reason—it turned out to be a very long day.

  She fussed over what to wear. She didn’t want Laray to assume she thought this was an actual date. Nor did she wish to look so everyday that he might feel dinner out was unappreciated. At length she chose a black skirt and blue sweater. She left her hair down but clipped it back from her face. She knew it was Henry’s favorite way for her to wear it.

  She dressed Danny in a newer outfit, answering his many questions about why they were eating out instead of in the kitchen, laid their coats by the door, and prepared to wait.

  A few minutes before six, the telephone rang. Henry was just checking. How was everything going? Good. And Amber wished to speak with Danny.

  Christine handed the receiver to an excited Danny, who immediately launched into a full account of all of the good times he’d been having with Constable Laray. Christine felt her face getting warmer by the minute. It sounded dreadful.

  “And we are going out to the . . . the cafe place. In his patrol car. Tonight. He said.”

  Christine did not know if she should ask for the phone again so she might explain, or simply to retreat in humiliation.

  When Danny did hand the receiver to her, it was Henry back on the line.

  “Sounds like you’re being well taken care of.”

  Christine felt her face flush even more. “Laray stopped by last night to see how we are doing. Supper was almost ready, so we invited him to join us. He and Danny played cars while I got the food on the table. Then we took a drive to show Danny the stars.”

  “Good,” said Henry, but Christine could not stop herself from hurriedly adding, “He offered to take us out tonight—as a payback.”

  “He has to pay back?”

  “No, of course not. But he . . . he thinks he does.”

  Christine heard steps coming up the walk. She didn’t know whether to mention the fact to Henry or hope he’d quickly hang up. Danny settled it for her.

  “He’s here!” he called loudly. “Constable Laray is here.”

  “He’s there now?” asked Henry.

  Christine put a hand to her hot cheek. “He . . . he’s just arriving.” Danny was already opening the door.

  “Good. I’ll
speak with him,” Henry said. “Save me another call.”

  By the time the two men had finished talking police business, Christine had managed to get herself in hand. The flush had left her cheeks, and her hands had stopped their trembling.

  Still, she wished with all her heart that she had not accepted this invitation.

  At the small restaurant, she was careful to put Danny next to her on her side of the table. She soon lamented her decision. That put Laray directly across from her. She felt his eyes on her even when she was not looking directly at him.

  They ordered the pork chops with mushroom sauce, deciding it had the best chance of not being too spicy.

  Danny thoroughly enjoyed the experience. It was obvious he was not used to eating out. When Laray gave him his own choice of dessert, he was almost beside himself. He finally settled for the strawberry ice cream on lemon pie. It sounded like a strange combination to Christine, and she shook her head as she watched the small boy dig in.

  “Well, maybe he’s discovered something,” Laray said in answer, his voice low.

  Back at the house, Laray once again did not suggest coming in, even though Danny coaxed him to come play cars. “The boss will be home in a few days,” was his answer. “I have to be sure everything is shipshape.”

  “What’s shipshape?”

  “In good order. Like your aunt Christine keeps your house.”

  Danny was satisfied.

  “When can you come play cars?”

  “Well—that’s hard to say. I have to work pretty steady now until your dad gets home.”

  “Aww.” Danny’s shoulders slumped in disappointment, and his eyes went to the floor.

  “But, hey—we’ll play cars again. You can count on it.” Laray gave Danny a playful punch on the shoulder.

  “I like him,” Danny said as the door closed behind them. Christine had no comment. The truth was, she had not been able to sort out how she felt about Laray. She had not felt so agitated or confused since those last unsettling weeks with Boyd.

  CHAPTER

  Nine

  Henry and Amber arrived home to wild whoops and many hugs. Danny was ready to settle in with his new dad. Even so, he was not quite ready to give up his auntie Christine.

  “Can Auntie Christine stay too?” he asked his father.

  “That would be very nice,” answered Henry, “but I think Auntie Christine has things to do.”

  Danny turned pleading eyes her way. “Do you?”

  Christine pulled the small boy close. “Your dad and mommy are home now. You are all together. It’s time for me to go back to the city and find a job.”

  “You can have a job here with me.”

  “That would be fun—but I need another kind of job. One I am trained to do.”

  Even as she spoke the words, Christine had nagging doubts. Would she be able to find something? Things had changed so since the war.

  The war.

  In all of the busy preparations for the wedding and the daily caring for Danny, she had given little thought to the war. Wouldn’t it be wonderful if it were all over? If all the troops were on the way home?

  But she didn’t suppose that had happened. There would have been great celebration across the land if it had. She would most surely have heard of it.

  The war.

  Christine, ready or not, was soon to be returned to the real world.

  The plan was for Henry to drive her to Calgary on Sunday afternoon. Laray called Saturday morning.

  “This may . . . this could be out of line,” he started, sounding nervous, “but I really would like a chance to see you before you go.”

  Oh my, thought Christine, I didn’t want this to happen. Or did she? She wasn’t quite sure.

  “All right,” she heard herself agreeing. “What did you have in mind?”

  “I don’t get off until ten tonight. Could we take a short drive afterward?”

  “I . . . I . . . sure. That’s fine.”

  “I know it’s not what—”

  “No . . . it’s fine. Really.”

  “Thanks.”

  The connection clicked off, and she stared at the phone in her hand.

  When Laray arrived a few minutes past ten, Christine was ready. They exchanged little more than nods as he led her to the car and helped her in. She felt butterflies flitting in her stomach and reminded herself that she was acting like a schoolgirl.

  “So are you stopping off in Calgary or going right on home?” he asked as he put the car in gear.

  “I still haven’t decided. Aunt Mary has invited me to stay with them and look for work in Calgary. I really don’t know what to do.”

  “Is there lots of work in Edmonton?”

  “I don’t know. I haven’t tried—except for the one job I had.”

  “Henry said you didn’t have much trouble getting that one.”

  “No . . . no, it worked out . . . quite well.”

  They drove east out of the town. Christine was relieved that Laray was not taking her to the lookout again. She could imagine that local couples frequented the place.

  Laray shifted into high gear and looked her way. “If you don’t mind, I’ll just keep driving while I talk. I never was very good at—at saying my mind.”

  Christine nodded dumbly.

  “Henry let me know that you’ve just . . . had a . . . a breakup. Gave a guy back his ring.”

  Oh no, groaned Christine silently. What else did Henry tell you?

  She cast a quick glance Laray’s way, but his eyes were on the road ahead.

  “I’m sorry it didn’t work out. Those things can be pretty tough.”

  Christine appreciated his understanding, but she didn’t know what to say.

  “Because of that I’ve . . . I’ve sort of backed off,” he continued. “I went through that once myself. I know that it takes time. ’Course I found a way to let off steam, so to speak. I went out and joined the Force. It worked. I had plenty to think about.”

  Laray managed to give her a lopsided smile.

  Again silence.

  “Anyway—I won’t push. I just want you to know that I think you’re pretty special—though this might not be the right time to be saying it. I don’t suppose I’ll be seeing you again unless . . .”

  He did not finish the thought. Christine could have finished it for him. She knew exactly what he was saying.

  “So I thought,” he said slowly, “maybe we should come to—well, to some kind of understanding. Have a little sign between us, you might say.”

  Christine turned to look at him. She swallowed and waited, wondering what he was going to suggest.

  “I thought maybe if the time ever comes when . . . when you think you’d be ready to . . . to think about . . . you know . . . dating again and you think maybe . . . well, you know . . . then you can just drop me a note in the mail. Even if I’m transferred, I will make sure your brother always knows where to find me.

  “You won’t have to make any promises. I don’t expect that. Just a little note saying things are going fine. I’ll pick it up from there.”

  Christine wanted to weep. He was being so gallant. So gentlemanly. Part of her wished to tell him that she was ready now. But she knew that was not true. She was not ready for another relationship. It was possible she never would be. Her heart truly had been broken by the last venture of falling in love.

  She became aware of tears coursing down her cheeks. She dug in her pocket for a hankie. She had to say something. She couldn’t just leave this kind and thoughtful man with no response at all.

  She wiped her face and blinked back further tears. “I’m sorry,” she began, her voice trembling. “You are quite right. I am not ready . . . yet. I . . . I have no . . . no desire to get involved with someone again. Maybe someday. I don’t know . . . but not now.”

  She blew her nose and began again. “I do want you to know that if . . . if I were ready . . . I think you are a very fine man, and I would be proud to have you ask
me out. I mean that. Truly.”

  He smiled. “That’s a high compliment. And all I can ask for . . . at the moment.”

  He reached for her hand, but he did not hold it for long. Simply gave it a little squeeze as if to seal their understanding and released it again. Then he found a spot to turn the car around and headed for home.

  It was a quiet drive back. It seemed that everything had already been said.

  “It is a pleasure to know you. I wish you only God’s best— whatever that is.” He spoke so sincerely that Christine feared she would weep again. She did manage to tell him that she wished him the same, and then he was opening the car door and coming around to help her out. There was no move to kiss her, no arm about her shoulder or claim on her in any way. When they reached the porch, he leaned to open the door, his face very close to hers. “Just drop a note,” he whispered; then he was gone.

  Christine was grateful no one was still up to observe her entrance. She was crying so hard she could scarcely see her way to the room she was to use for one last night. He was so sweet. Was she making the biggest mistake of her life to walk away? But she wasn’t ready to give her heart. Surely—surely if this was meant to be, the future would work it all out.

  But Christine’s pillow was damp before she managed to fall asleep.

  Danny rode along for the trip to Calgary. Amber had intended to join them, but the onset of a head cold kept her at home. “You’d best stay in and take care of it,” Henry had advised.

  Christine was glad for Danny’s chatter. It meant Henry would be less likely to notice her silence. Thankfully he asked no questions concerning the previous night, and Christine volunteered no information.

  When Danny stopped for a breather, Henry turned to Christine with the same question Laray asked. “Will you be staying on in Calgary—or going on home?”

  “Well, I’ll need to go on home regardless. I brought nothing with me but this one suitcase.”

  “You might look for work in Edmonton again?”

  “I think I may at least start there.”

  “Might be for the best. You know the city.”

  “Actually, I know very little of the city. I just traveled from my rooming house to work or church—that’s about the extent of it. And I don’t care to find work again in the same area.”