A Trusting Heart

by Judith Mccoy Miller

  “What have you got there?” Jake asked the towheaded bundle of energy.

  “Waggedy Ann,” she replied, attempting to hold up the doll that practically overshadowed her small frame.

  Jake’s eyes riveted toward the mass of red yarn hair adorning the doll’s head. “Where did you find that doll?” he asked Herta.

  “Oh, I made it for her,” she said. “Bill’s mother found the pattern at a garage sale and sent it to me. She knows I like to sew. It’s become Katarina’s favorite,” she said, watching as her daughter dragged the doll behind her throughout the house.

  “Do you make them for other people?” he asked. “You know, to sell?”

  “No, I’ve never sold one, but I did make one for each of Bill’s nieces last Christmas,” she explained.

  “Is there any chance at all that you could make one for me—before I leave next Thursday?” he asked.

  “You two sure are in a deep conversation,” Bill remarked as he sat down beside his wife and affectionately placed his arm around her shoulder.

  “I was wondering if Herta could make me a Raggedy Ann doll,” Jake explained.

  “I see,” Bill replied, giving him an apprehensive look.

  “For Michelle—Claire’s daughter. She loves yarn, and I thought the doll might be something she would enjoy,” Jake explained.

  “Oh, now I really do see,” Bill said, obviously understanding why an unmarried soldier would want to purchase an oversized Raggedy Ann doll.

  “Jake, I don’t know if I could get it done that soon. I may have enough leftover material to make one, but I’m not sure about yarn for the hair and the stuffing,” she said.

  “Her mind is already planning it out,” Bill said, watching his wife’s face as she seemed to calculate what needed to be done.

  “Let me run upstairs and check,” she said, jumping up from the couch and darting off toward the stairway.

  “I hope I’m not overstepping my bounds,” Jake said. “I just thought. . .”

  “It’s okay, Jake. She loves to sew and complains that she doesn’t have enough to do. If she doesn’t really want to make it, she’ll tell you. My wife isn’t afraid to say ‘no’ when she doesn’t want to do something,” he explained.

  Herta walked back into the room, her arms filled with fabric. “If you can get me the red yarn and a bag of fiberfill stuffing from the Post Exchange, I’ve got everything else I need to make one,” she told the men. “I’ll start on it first thing in the morning. When are you leaving, Jake?”

  “Right after graduation on Thursday. I’m catching a plane out of Stuttgart at two o’clock,” he said.

  “I’ll try to have it finished by then,” she said, gracing him with an enthusiastic smile.

  “I can purchase the yarn and stuffing tomorrow,” Jake told her. “I’ll get them to you before you leave for home tomorrow afternoon, okay?” he asked Bill.

  “Sure, no problem,” Bill said as his wife left them to return the supplies upstairs. “You’re determined to pursue this woman, aren’t you?” Bill asked.

  “I know she’s the woman I’m supposed to spend the rest of my life with, Bill. I’m sure you don’t understand or agree with me, but this is right. I just know it.”

  “I’m not going to argue with you, Jake. I just want you to get some moral support in place before you get the pins knocked out from underneath you. At least have a plan for yourself if this thing backfires. Let me help you,” Bill urged.

  “What do you suggest?” Jake asked, knowing in his heart that Bill was right. The last thing he wanted to do was return to his old habits, and if Bill thought an alternate plan was in order, he should at least listen. After all, Bill was the expert.

  “If she tells you ‘no,’ I want you to have someplace to go. With the exception of Claire and one or two other folks, the only people you consider friends in that town are drinking friends. Am I right?”

  “Yeah,” Jake answered ashamedly.

  “Okay. Then I think if she says ‘no,’ you need to leave and head for Nebraska. Go visit your mother; get away from the bad influences waiting to destroy your recent success,” he counseled. “I don’t want you to fail, Jake. So you’ve got to think this thing through and have a plan.”

  “I know you’re right, Bill. I just want to believe that she’s going to meet me with open arms.”

  “Well, chances are that she’s not going to do that. I hope she does, but we both know that’s not realistic. What do you think about going to Nebraska if it falls apart on you?”

  “I guess that would be best. I’d be better off spending my time there. I don’t have any drinking buddies up there, but there’s sure nothing to do either,” he said.

  “Come on, Jake. What have we spent the last seven weeks talking about? Take responsibility. You’re old enough to get out and find lots of interesting things to do, and I know you’ve moved beyond the point at which you need someone else planning those things for you. Work on that family genealogy you’re always talking about. Go look up some of those long lost relatives and ask their help filling in the blank spaces on that family tree. You’ll all enjoy it,” he advised encouragingly.

  “You’re right. I’m just looking for excuses to hang around and try to convince her if she says ‘no,’ but I realize that could lead to trouble,” he agreed.

  “I knew you’d come around,” Bill said, giving Jake a smile and slapping him on the back. “Now, you ready for some of that famous strudel?”

  ❧

  An hour before the graduation ceremony, Jake’s excitement began to rise—along with a growing nervousness that he attributed to the impending reunion with Claire. He’d be required to travel in his dress greens since there wouldn’t be time to change and pack after the ceremony. Although he preferred traveling in civilian attire when the Army would permit it, that didn’t happen too often. Now he was having to forego one of those rare opportunities. Bad planning, he thought to himself as he pulled the wool jacket off its hanger and checked his baggage one last time.

  “You about ready to check out of our ‘hotel’?” Bill asked as Jake descended the stairs into the group meeting room.

  “I think so,” Jake replied. They were all present and accounted for—all except Nick Soblinsky, who wouldn’t be graduating with the group. He’d gone AWOL while the rest of them attended the Sunday dinner at Bill’s house the weekend before. The military police had received a call from the local police and had picked him up late Sunday night. He’d gone into town, gotten drunk, and ended up in a brawl. Currently, he was residing in the detoxification center in the hospital.

  “We’d better get over to the auditorium,” Bill instructed the group. “Wouldn’t want to be late for this event. Those of you with families can sit with them or stay with the group, whichever you prefer,” he advised.

  Once the speakers had completed their part of the program, the graduates were individually called on stage. Instead of a diploma, Bill handed each graduate a marble, advising him to place it in his pocket along with his money. “If you’re ever tempted to purchase a drink,” he said, “you’ll pull that marble out of your pocket when you’re ready to pay. Take a long, hard look at the marble and remember where you’ve come from—use it as a reminder of where alcohol will take you. And if by some chance you go ahead and buy that drink, I suggest that you walk to the nearest door and throw your marble as far as you can. Because as far as I’m concerned, anybody who successfully makes it through treatment and later turns back has surely lost his marbles.”

  Jake received his marble, which was a white opaque sphere with a small line of red running through the center. He shoved it into his pocket and reached out to shake Bill’s hand. That marble was now more important to him than his high school diploma, for it had taken a lot more work and a lot more pain to get that tiny marble. Walking across the stage, Jake noticed Herta sitting near the back of the room. Just as he began his descent down the stairs of the platform, she held up the huge Raggedy A
nn doll. He gave her a grin, and little Katarina, who was standing on her chair, waved and pointed at the doll.

  “I don’t know how you’re going to get this on the plane, but I guess that’s your problem,” Herta said as she handed the doll to Jake after the ceremonies had concluded.

  “I know there’s no room in my luggage. I guess I’ll carry it on board and put it in the overhead compartment,” he said. “I hate to rush off, but my ride to the airport is here, and I don’t want to miss my plane,” he told Herta and Bill.

  “You’re going to be quite a sight, carrying that thing,” Bill said, laughing at Jake as he walked alongside him to the waiting car.

  “Take care of yourself, Jake. I’m as close as a telephone, and if there’s anything I can do, you give me a call. If you get a free weekend after you’re back in Germany, we’d like to have you come back to Stuttgart and visit us,” Bill said, pushing aside Jake’s extended hand and embracing him in a bear hug. “Keep up the good work, and use that marble to remind you how far you’ve come,” Bill reminded him as they loaded the luggage into the trunk.

  “Thanks for everything, Bill. I know you care about each of us, and I appreciate the extra time you’ve spent with me. I won’t let you down,” Jake said.

  “Don’t worry about letting me down. Don’t let yourself down,” Bill said and then moved back as the driver of the military vehicle pulled away from the curb.

  ❧

  Jake tried to ignore the stares as he walked through the airport and stood in line to board his plane. The red-haired doll was tucked under one arm, and the strap of his carry-on suitcase was cutting into his shoulder. No matter how he positioned the doll, it seemed to be in everyone’s way, especially Jake’s. I can’t wait to get on the plane and get this doll stowed in the overhead compartment, he thought as they began to board. Jake was near the end of the line, and when he finally boarded the plane, he handed the stewardess his carry-on suitcase, which he knew was too large to reside under his seat or in the overhead.

  “Any chance you can put this with my carry-on?” he asked the stewardess.

  “Isn’t that a cute doll?” she commented. “No, I’m sorry, only one item per passenger.”

  Jake nodded. He knew the rule but thought just maybe she’d take it. “Thanks anyway. I’ll put it in the overhead.”

  When Jake finally reached his seat, he lifted the door of the overhead only to find it already brimming full of luggage and personal belongings of other passengers. Dodging in between the other passengers in the aisle, he began checking above the other seats but met with the same results. Exasperated, he finally sat down with the doll on his lap and motioned for a stewardess.

  “I can’t seem to find any room in the overhead compartments. Could you check further back and see if there’s any space available for this doll?” he requested.

  “Sure. I’ll see what I can do for you,” she said, walking away from his seat and checking the compartments as she moved down the aisle.

  “Sorry, but there’s not enough space left in the overheads to hold your doll,” the stewardess told him, as she returned to where Jake sat.

  “You’re kidding! What am I going to do with this?” he asked.

  “I guess you’ll just have to hold it,” she told him. “It’s always better to pack larger items and send them along with your luggage,” she said, giving him a sweet stewardess smile.

  “I didn’t have time to pack it,” he replied. “Any other suggestions?”

  “Afraid not,” she said. “I’ll see if I can find anyone who’s willing to ‘dollysit’ for you.”

  “Oh, thanks,” Jake said, fastening his seatbelt and settling the doll on his lap. “This is going to be a long trip,” he said to the soldier sitting beside him.

  “You’re telling me,” the young man replied, pushing the doll’s arm out of his lap.

  ❧

  “Have you heard anything from Jake?” Gloria asked on Friday afternoon as they were leaving work.

  “No, not a word. I did write to him and explained that I still thought it was best if he didn’t come to Junction City. He needs to go see his mother, don’t you think?”

  “It’s not me you need to convince, but since you asked, no, I don’t think it’s his mother he needs to see. I take it you haven’t received any conclusive answers from above.”

  “No,” Claire replied. “I wasn’t expecting a bolt of lightning, Gloria.”

  “I know, but I was at least hoping the Lord would soften that hard heart of yours,” she retorted, giving her friend a giggle. “When does he get back to the States, anyway?”

  “I’m not really sure. Probably in another week or so. He didn’t say exactly.”

  “Since you’re not traveling as much, you should be home when he arrives,” Gloria teased. “I checked your calendar, and it doesn’t look like you’re going out of town again until the first of next month.”

  “Got any plans for the weekend?” Claire asked, wanting to change the subject.

  “Roger and I are going to Kansas City tomorrow. We’re going to do a little shopping and then stay for dinner. He promised to take me to the movies. There are several new releases, but we haven’t decided upon which one to see.”

  “Sound like you’ll be gone until the wee hours of the morning,” Claire said. “Hope you have a good time.”

  “You doing anything?”

  “I’m going over to see Michelle, but I’m not sure if I’ll go tomorrow or Sunday. Other than that, I don’t have any plans. Stop over if you find some spare time,” Claire offered.

  “Will do. See ya,” Gloria replied as she drove away.

  SIXTEEN

  “Come on in, Gloria. It’s unlocked. I don’t know why she doesn’t just come on in,” Claire muttered when the doorbell rang for the second time.

  “Why didn’t you. . .”

  “Hi, Claire.”

  “What are you doing here?” Claire asked in a shrill voice.

  “I came back to marry you,” Jake said, grinning from ear to ear.

  “No. You didn’t come to marry me! I told you not to come here,” Claire retaliated, and without saying anything further, slammed the door. Leaning against the wooden closure, she strained to listen. She couldn’t hear any footsteps, yet she was afraid to peek out the small opening in the door. Waiting a few minutes, she had just decided that he was gone when a loud knock sounded. What am I going to do? she thought. I don’t know how to deal with this. Her thoughts were immediately followed by another loud knock.

  Gathering all of her courage, Claire pulled the door open just far enough so that Jake could hear her. “I told. . .”

  “I’m not going to stand in the doorway and argue with you, Claire. But would you at least open the door far enough so that I can give you this?” he asked, attempting to push the Raggedy Ann doll through the narrow opening. “It’s for Michelle. Would you please take it to her?” he inquired.

  Reaching her hand through the door, Claire pulled the doll inside. “Thank you. I’ll give it to her,” she said.

  “I’m staying at the Wheatland Inn. Call me if you want to talk,” he called as she once again closed the door.

  Claire breathed a sigh of relief as she heard footsteps, followed by the welcome sound of a car motor. Turning, she peeked through the small window in the front door and assured herself that Jake was gone. Why am I behaving so foolishly? she thought. But she knew why—it was fear. Fear that if she saw him, if she talked to him, if she allowed him through the door, he would capture her heart. And if he captured her heart, the end result could be painful. Of course, it could turn out to be wonderful, but she wasn’t willing to risk her future on that possibility.

  “I can’t even talk to Gloria,” she mused aloud, looking down at the large, red-haired doll that Jake had shoved through the door moments earlier. “And why did he have to go and do this?” she continued, plopping herself on the sofa. “Where did he find you, anyway?” she asked the doll. “Just l
ook at me. I’ve reduced myself to talking to a doll! Well, why not? At least you won’t disagree with my opinions,” she said and then laughed at herself.

  The large black button eyes stared back at her. “You’re pretty cute, you know,” Claire said, beginning to carefully examine the gift. A friendly Raggedy Ann smile was embroidered on the doll’s face, and her dress was a red print complemented by a white apron. Her legs were covered with the typical red and white striped stockings, ending in jet black shoes. Claire pulled at the back of the doll’s dress in an attempt to find a tag or some indication where the doll had been purchased.

  “Where did you come from, Miss Raggedy Ann? It looks like you’re homemade, but I’m sure Jake Lindsey hasn’t taken up sewing,” she said, once again conversing with the doll while her hand rested on the doll’s head. “Yarn! He bought you for Michelle because she loves yarn,” Claire said, embracing the doll. A tear slid down her cheek. He remembered! Jake Lindsey remembered that my daughter likes to run her fingers through yarn, she thought as she continued clinging to the doll.

  “What am I supposed to do, Lord?” she prayed aloud. “Surely you don’t want this man in my life. He’s an alcoholic! And even though he says he’s accepted you and become a Christian, I’m not really sure he has. What if it’s all just an act? And what about Michelle? Making decisions with Glenn about her future was difficult enough; making them with a stepfather would be impossible. I can’t jeopardize her future.”

  Holding the doll, Claire walked to the small table where the telephone sat and looked up the number of the motel. She jotted it down on the small pad beside the phone and then began to dial.

  “Wheatland Inn,” said the voice at the end of the line.

  “Could you tell me Jake Lindsey’s room number?” Claire asked.

  “Lindsey? Let me see. That’s 211. I’ll ring it for you,” she said.

  “No, I don’t. . .”

  “Hello. Hello. Claire, is that you?” Jake asked. His question was followed by a deafening silence. “Claire, you’re the only person that knows I’m in town. Talk to me,” Jake urged.