Another Angel of Love

by Henry K. Ripplinger

  As if guided by an unseen presence, Edith turned away from the fire and went upstairs to her bedroom. She opened the closet door and gazed up at the top shelf. Standing on her toes, she reached up with both hands and pulled down a wooden chest, a keepsake box with beautiful ornate carvings, passed down from her mother. She had received it when her mother had died. Edith loved that box; it held both special memories of her mother and all the things Edith herself had treasured over the years. She pulled a silver key from under the paper liner in the top drawer of her dresser.

  With a twist of the key, she opened the lid and removed the contents one by one: her first communion certificate, some report cards, photos of old boyfriends and girlfriends, and love letters—the first and the last she had received from Ted before they were married. When the box was empty, she placed Henry’s letter to Jenny in the bottom of the chest, then buried it under all the items she’d taken out. After closing the lid and pressing the latch to lock it, she returned the keepsake chest to its spot in the closet. Almost instantly a restful calm soothed her, letting her know that, at least in part, she had done the right thing by not destroying the letter.

  Edith changed into her nightgown, robe and slippers, and went downstairs to make herself a cup of chamomile tea and sit out on the patio under the bright full moon. She thought about the pact she and Henry’s mother had made. How similarly they felt. Under the guise of a mother’s love and concern for the welfare of their children, together they had sealed Jenny and Henry’s fate. She sipped her tea. Both the soft light of the moon and the warmth of the herb soothed her. She stared into the night, allowing her mind to drift aimlessly. She was too tired to direct or control her thoughts any longer.

  Chapter Fifty-Three

  It was a torturously hot day. Ninety-two degrees in the shade with virtually no wind. The only saving grace was the dry, humidity-free prairie air. It would be a perfect day to be at the beach or swimming pool. It wasn’t a day for working outside, especially painting houses.

  Henry’s painting partners, Sid and Harvey, were two elderly men the government had hired over twenty years ago. Together they maintained all the government offices and the over one hundred and fifty wartime homes in the west end of Regina where military families mostly lived. Henry’s summer assignment was to paint the exterior of as many of those homes as possible. The interiors would be done during the winter.

  On very hot days like today, when even the wind seemed to lack the energy to blow, their strategy was to stay ahead of the sun. The paint stayed workable longer and they avoided sunburn. Another thing that helped was daily naptime. Without fail, around two o’clock every day, Sid and Harvey set their brushes down, covered them with a moist rag to prevent the paint from drying out, and had at least a half-hour siesta. At first, Henry feared that a superior would catch them sleeping on the job, but it didn’t seem to bother Sid or his partner the least bit. It didn’t seem to bother the foreman either; he’d just wave as he drove by.

  This particular workday was almost over.

  “Start cleaning up your brushes,” Sid called out from around the corner of the house. Because they were working with oil-based paint, they had to use paint thinner. Sid liked using fuel oil rather than commercial paint thinner. Fuel oil was slippery and much friendlier to the hands, almost like soap.

  Henry finished cleaning his brushes in record time. He was going to visit Mr. Engelmann, who had made a special trip down from the seminary to meet with the archbishop at the rectory right after work. A few weeks ago, the archbishop had rejected the idea of Mr. Engelmann marrying Henry and Julean. However, due to Mr. Engelmann’s age and some studies in theology and philosophy Mr. Engelmann had acquired before the war, the archbishop had later decided that he might be able to make a special dispensation. This additional meeting was to see if there was any possibility of relaxing the requirements.

  Henry pulled up in front of the rectory shortly after five.

  Mr. Engelmann answered the door after the first ring.

  “Hello, Henry! My gosh, you are so brown. You will soon have the colour of an African!” he laughed.

  Henry smiled, his white teeth glowing against the dark tan of his face.

  “Hi, Mr. Engelmann,” Henry replied as they hugged.

  “Whew, Henry, what is that odour? A special perfume or cologne?”

  “Yeah—eau d’fuel oil,” Henry replied with a chuckle. “I tried to wash most of it off, but it’s hard to get it out of your skin. Julean teases me about it all the time. She threatens to sit in the back seat when we’re driving, but it’s funny, in no time flat there she is right next to me, cuddled up under my arm.”

  They both laughed.

  “Well, come in.”

  Henry followed him to the huge study. Two black leather chairs sat in front of a fireplace. Two leather couches sat behind the chairs, separated by a rectangular coffee table strewn with a few magazines. The entire west wall was a floor-to-ceiling bookshelf hosting hundreds of books. Henry had never seen such a display except in a public library. On the north wall, several banks of windows opened on a view of an inner courtyard laden with flowers. There was a fountain in the middle of it all.

  “Have a seat, Henry.” Mr. Engelmann motioned for him to sit in one of the armchairs in front of the fireplace. The rectory was air-conditioned so the leather felt cool as Henry sat, a welcome sensation from the blazing heat he’d felt all day.

  “Well, you missed Julean by a half-hour. She returned some of the books Father Connelly lent her. I understand her first communion went over very well last Sunday. I am so sorry I could not attend to share in your joy.”

  “You should have seen her, Mr. Engelmann, she was all dressed in white and had a matching ribbon in her hair. She looked like an elementary school girl. So excited and radiant. She could hardly contain herself.”

  “Father Connelly says he has never seen a more devoted student and convert to the church. I spoke to her briefly when she left; such a lovely girl. She asked if I would be doing the ceremony at your wedding.”

  “So what happened? Are you allowed to do it?”

  “Well, Henry, as I already told her, I do not have completely good news. The archbishop said it would be impossible for me to be ordained before your wedding and he couldn’t allow any dispensation for me to perform the wedding service without being ordained first. They have to follow a very strict procedure. If they start making exceptions, it could lead to serious problems down the line and lower the high standards of the Church.”

  Mr. Engelmann read Henry’s disappointment. “But, Henry, I will be right there beside Father Connelly, assisting him with the ceremony. It will be almost as if I am the priest saying, ‘I now pronounce you man and wife.’ In fact, I will whisper it along with Father Connelly.”

  Feeling a little better, Henry finally said, “Yeah, okay. But it would’ve been so perfect for you to actually marry Julean and me.”

  Mr. Engelmann nodded. “It was something I would have liked to have done very much, Henry. So the date is set for September 9?”

  “Yes,” Henry replied, “in less than two weeks I’ll be a married man! Julean and I seem to have everything under control. She and her friends have been making flowers out of tissue for over two weeks now and stringing them together to decorate all the cars. The flowers are alternating white and blue, and it’s all going to look so great! We only pray that it doesn’t rain.” Then Henry added, “Julean’s girlfriends had a shower for her last Saturday and the boys are having a stag party for me this weekend.”

  “I see you both are very busy.”

  “Yeah, you can say that again! I’ve got a new black suit, new shoes, socks, shirt and tie. I’ll look pretty spiffy.”

  “I hope I recognize you at the altar,” Mr. Engelmann joked.

  “Mom said she was making borscht for supper. Want to come over for some?”


  “No, Millie already made dinner for Father Connelly and me. She loves to cook, too, and would be disappointed if I suddenly went out after she prepared a larger dinner for us.”

  “Okay. Thank you, again, Mr. Engelmann.”

  He nodded. “I think you’ll be pleasantly surprised and pleased with the way Father Connelly and I have planned the service. You go on now and enjoy your borscht,” Mr. Engelmann said, leading Henry back to the front door. “I am leaving first thing in the morning to go back to the seminary, but I will be back next Wednesday, though, so Father Connelly and I have time to prepare for the big celebration on Saturday.”

  “Yeah,” Henry said loudly, feeling a surge of excitement. He brought his hand up to his mouth, in mute apology for not maintaining silence in the rectory.

  Mr. Engelmann waved it off with his hand. “Not to worry. You should hear Father Connelly crank up the stereo when he plays some of his Irish music. Loud enough to wake up the whole neighbourhood, including the dead in the cemetery beside us!”

  Henry laughed, feeling completely absolved as one should when leaving the church.

  Henry turned and hugged Mr. Engelmann, and his teacher patted his back as he always did. “Have a good time with Julean. And put on some different cologne,” he said, wrinkling his nose.

  “Hi, mom, I’m home!”

  His mother turned as he entered her sanctuary.

  He kissed her cheek. “Boy, does that ever smell good!”

  “Yes, it boiled a little longer than usual so the broth’s a little stronger today.” She added with a coy smile, “It does taste very good, if I say so myself.”

  Mary walked to the fridge, opened it and then closed it. She walked to the stove and opened the oven door, but nothing was baking. Henry sensed his mother was nervous or maybe distracted.

  “Everything okay, Mom?”

  “Oh, everything’s fine, just the heat and being in a hot kitchen all day. Why don’t I make us a nice glass of iced tea and we can sit on the front steps and wait for Dad?”

  “Sounds great. Let me go have a quick shower first to try to get some more of this fuel oil off me.”

  “Oh? Funny, I didn’t notice it.”

  “That’s because of your soup, the fresh dill is wonderful.” Henry said with a chuckle.

  Freshened by his shower, Henry joined his mother on the front step. They had just about finished their glasses of iced tea when his dad pulled up. He stepped out of the car and slung his jacket over his shoulder. His tie hung loose and his shirt had circles under the armpits.

  “Hi, Mary. Hi, Henry.” His dad bent to plant a kiss on his mother’s cheek.

  “Hi, honey,” his mom replied. “Long day?”

  “Yeah. Think I’ll take a quick shower.”

  “Well, supper’s ready as soon as you are. I’ll have a glass of iced tea ready for you, too.”

  “Thank you, dear.” He stepped between Mary and Henry and opened the screen door. “Boy, does it ever smell good in here.”

  Henry’s mother smiled.

  “So, how was your day, Mom?”

  Her head snapped up, her eyes wide for a moment.

  “Oh, nothing eventful. I was out in the garden all morning, gathering vegetables for the soup. Then I made the broth, cut up the vegetables, cleaned a bit and before I knew it, it was dinner time.” That part was the truth. “And how was your day? It must have been difficult to work in this heat.”

  “Yeah, it sure was hot out there today. I could hardly wait for the day to be over. I went to see Mr. Engelmann right after work about his visit with the archbishop.”

  “Oh, yes?” Mary sat straighter on the step. “And?”

  “The archbishop told Mr. Engelmann that it was impossible for him to be ordained after only two years in the seminary and only an ordained priest could marry people. There was no way he could make any special dispensation.”

  “Oh, that’s too bad.”

  “But Mr. Engelmann will still be assisting and promised that it would almost seem like he was performing the ceremony.”

  Mary’s eyes lit up. “Oh, that sounds so nice. I’m sure everything will go over just fine.”

  Mary studied her son for a moment longer, hoping her stare would not arouse any suspicions over what she’d done earlier. He seemed so happy and excited about the wedding. To have given that letter to him would have caused so much turmoil. I made the right decision. She slapped both hands on her knees and stood.

  “Well, Dad will be down in a few minutes and you know how he likes to have dinner right away.”

  “Yeah,” Henry said, “I can hardly wait to eat. I don’t know what you did today, Mom, but that soup smells better than ever.”

  If you only knew, son. If you only knew.

  Chapter Fifty-Four

  Henry stopped in front of Julean’s house shortly after seven and honked the horn. Since he never felt comfortable in her parents’ presence, he often tapped the horn when he drove up so he wouldn’t have to go in.

  Julean bounded down the walkway as Henry stepped out and rounded the car to open the door for her.

  “Thank you, kind sir.”

  On the way to the movie, a slapstick comedy starring Bud Abbott and Lou Costello, Henry told Julean what Mr. Engelmann had said. She had heard about most of it earlier when she was at the rectory herself. She expressed a little disappointment but perked up when he told her of Mr. Engelmann’s idea.

  After the movie they went for ice cream at the Milky Way, which was extremely busy. They squeezed into a spot at the curb and Henry stood in line at the window.

  “So, what do you fellows have planned for the stag party?” Julean asked, when he returned with the cones.

  “I think two belly dancers are coming in.”

  Julean just rolled her eyes. “Well, if you guys do have strippers, then the girls and I want to be there.”

  They laughed and Henry said, “Oh, I don’t think you have to worry; we’ll probably end up playing poker and drinking beer and then going out for Chinese food like we usually do.”

  They arrived in front of Julean’s house about quarter to eleven. Even though she was soon going to be married, Julean still had a curfew. She and Henry were glad it had been extended to eleven. Henry had to admire Mr. Carter’s commitment to protecting his daughter right up until the end, and Henry himself had long since decided to impose similar strict rules for any children they might have as well. He just wished his relationship with the Carters was better; he’d have to work on that. It wasn’t good for a marriage to have problems with either set of parents.

  Henry turned off the ignition; they had at least another fifteen minutes together. Last summer they used to go to the park and neck, like most of their friends did. They soon realized, though, that they were just asking for trouble and torturing themselves. So now Henry parked in front of the house and when they were inside Julean’s home, they had started to keep the door to the rumpus room open as well.

  As Mr. Engelmann had said to Henry on many occasions, if there is an area of temptation in your life or you want to overcome a habit that isn’t in your best interests, you must have a plan, a method of attack, waiting in the wings. If you don’t, then as soon as that desire or temptation arises, your resolve will be washed away like a house built on sand.

  Henry and Julean often talked about friends of theirs who had chosen differently and the anguish some of them had gone through. The breakups and the heartaches; the unplanned pregnancies and the abortion one of Julean’s friends had had.

  The more they talked and practised what they preached to each other, the more they were able to rise to the occasion. However, with their impending marriage, Henry found it increasingly difficult to honour their commitment.

  As he sat in the front seat, embraced in Julean’s arms, his entire body ached with desire. For month
s he had been too embarrassed to walk her to the door after necking for a short while.

  “It’s just another ten days,” Julean said, and he knew she understood full well what was in his mind and heart.

  “I talked to my dad about sex before marriage after the movie we went to a week ago. Man, that was hard for us to talk about. But we did it.”

  Julean laughed. “That’s because you’ve never discussed it before in your family. In our family, we talk about it openly all the time. Just last night Dad said again that it’s his job to make certain his girls are chaste, right up to the day before they get married. And he fully expects us to honour his wishes. And he and Mom have explained the reasons so many times before, as well.”

  “Yeah, I don’t know why my parents never did, but I’m sure glad Mr. Engelmann talked to me about it. It really helped me see the big picture about sex and the importance of only validating it in marriage. But right now all the reasoning in the world doesn’t seem to help.”

  Henry growled, not entirely playfully and lunged for his bride-to-be. He pulled Julean close to him and kissed her long and hard. Julean broke from Henry’s strong grasp and backed away ever so slightly, startling him.

  “I think I’d better go now.”

  “Oh, just a little while longer,” Henry pleaded. There was urgency in his tone.

  “I feel the same way you do,” acknowledged Julean, “but we’ve come this far, and I so want to save everything for our wedding night. I promise I’ll give myself completely to you and never again withhold my affection.”

  Her words had a calming effect and he sighed, running a hand through his hair.

  “Yeah, you’re right, honey. It’s just that I want you so much—”

  “Just think,” Julean interrupted him, “only ten more days, and we will be able to make love whenever we want.”