The Memory of Us: A Novel

by Camille Di Maio

  I made my way home to what I expected would be a less than warm reception.

  The house was quiet. I didn’t know if Mother was out or upstairs, but I did see the light on in Father’s study. I knocked lightly, in case he was in with someone.

  “Come in.”

  I opened the door with hesitation and bit my lip before making my way in. He was reviewing paperwork and didn’t immediately look up. I slouched into my usual seat in front of his desk and waited. My parents’ wedding photo sat on the bookshelf, faded from the way the sunlight hit it. Surrounding it were pictures of me—in my dance clothes, at my birthday parties, on our travels. They made me want to smile and cry, at least until Father cleared his throat and finally looked at me.

  He didn’t say anything at first but laid his hands on the mahogany desk, palms down. He looked like he was trying to decide something. He pushed himself up and walked around the desk to sit in the chair beside mine.

  Even then he towered over me, but it was a good sign. He folded his fingers together and spoke. “So I had quite the conversation with your young man.”

  “Yes, Father. We—we would like to get married.”

  “That’s what he said. But I explained to him, as I will to you now, that I can’t allow that.”

  “But—”

  He held a hand up and I immediately shut my mouth.

  “You’re a smart girl, Julianne. But you’re just a girl, barely a woman. I can forgive you for romantic notions. But I can’t let you throw your life away. You need to finish school and then find a young man who is more worthy of you. He is entirely unsuitable, and by the time he left he agreed with me.”

  “Yes, Father.” It was easier to agree than to try pointlessly to win an argument. Besides, I was lucky to be getting off without a tongue-lashing. At this point, my goal was just to get through the next few weeks in peace and make sure nothing stopped our plans. I hoped that after we were married—after it was too late for them to do anything—we could have the kind of honest conversation that I longed to.

  “You will not need to see him again. I effectively broke things off on your behalf. There will be no more communication with him, do you understand?”

  “Yes, Father.”

  “I know that you are feeling hurt, and I’m sorry about that. But, Julianne, wait until you have a daughter. Wanting what is best for her sometimes means making tough decisions.”

  “I understand.”

  “By the way, I have not told your mother about this latest development, and I expect you not to, either. She doesn’t need to be upset, and since this is over anyway, there is no harm done.”

  That was a relief. I wouldn’t have wanted to talk to her about this.

  “I’m tired. I’d like to go upstairs now.”

  “That’s fine. I think Betty left some shortbread in the kitchen. So go on upstairs, and if you want to bring some with you, I won’t tell your mother about that, either.”

  “Do you want me to bring you any?”

  He patted his stomach. “I’ve already had some, but thank you.”

  “All right. I’ll see you for supper.”

  He was already returning to his paperwork on the desk. Before I stepped into the hallway, though, he stopped me.

  “There’s one more thing.”

  I paused and looked back at him.

  “I told you that I can’t blame you for having romantic notions. But there is no excuse for your behavior. You were forbidden to see him, and you did so behind my back. From now until you leave for school, there will be no telephone, no going out with Lucille, no walks to the park. You will be home helping your mother, or you will be with me at the office. But you will not be seeing him again. Am I understood?”

  He had just choked off any chance that I had to get out. I’d have to get creative.

  “Yes, Father.”

  “Good. Now go on upstairs.”

  Lucille came by two days later. The new butler—his name was Collins, I’d learned—let her in.

  “Julianne, what is wrong? I’ve been phoning, but no one will let me through. I finally just decided to come over.”

  “You know, my parents have needed a lot of help with things.”

  “I’ve known you since you were seven years old, Jul. I can see right through you. But if you’re not going to tell me, you must have your reasons. And, besides, I’m on a happier errand.”

  I’d nearly forgotten that she was going to have good news to share with me. I was a terrible friend. “What is it?”

  “OK, I can’t wait any longer. Ben asked me to marry him!”

  We ran up to my room where we could talk in private. She was deliciously happy, and it put the first smile on my face in days. I didn’t tell her anything about Kyle. I didn’t want to dampen her news, nor did I want to make her an accomplice. I let her chatter on.

  But my mind kept wandering to my own problems.

  My immediate dilemma was how to get in touch with Kyle. Father wasn’t going to allow any communication, nor was I allowed to go out. He had me spend days with him at work and kept an eye on me in the evening. My chance came a week later when he was making some rounds with clients, and he instructed me to help my mother with anything that she might need.

  An idea struck me. It was a rather appalling idea. But I was desperate.

  I made her a cup of tea in the afternoon and added two of her sleeping pills. I convinced myself that since she nearly always took an afternoon nap anyway, it wasn’t such a terrible thing.

  Within an hour, she wouldn’t have heard a tornado if it passed through the house.

  I didn’t know how much time I had, so I raced the car into town to Kyle’s flat. He wasn’t home, so I slipped a note under the door and hurried back home.

  That evening after supper, I was especially attentive to my mother, who’d mostly recovered from her unexpected nap, played backgammon with Father, let him win convincingly, and gave them both kisses good night before retiring upstairs. A model daughter. At precisely ten o’clock, I tiptoed out the side door and ran to the gazebo.

  “Kyle?” I whispered. “Are you here?”

  A figure moved out from behind a tree.

  “Is that you?”

  He stepped just to the edge of the path lit by the moonlight. “It’s me.”

  I fell into his arms and held him without words. It seemed like an eternity since I’d seen him.

  “I got your note. I was going crazy. I didn’t know what had happened to you.”

  “I know. It’s been like a prison here. Please tell me that it was worth it, that you have good news.”

  “I do.” He pulled out a paper from his pocket. “Here is the paperwork for our marriage license. You’re going to have to go in and give your signature in person.”

  “I’ll figure something out.”

  “And I talked to Father Sullivan. I thought that there might be a problem since you’re not Catholic, but he’s asked the bishop for a dispensation, and he doesn’t think it will be an issue. He vouched for us personally. He’ll be able to marry us at Saint Stephen’s two weeks from today.”

  “Two whole weeks?”

  “Yes, it will take that long to get the paperwork from the bishop.”

  Marrying outside of the Catholic Church was not an option for Kyle, and I supported that. I was lucky enough to be marrying him at all—if it took longer than we hoped, then so be it. He had probably lost a portion of his salvation already by stepping away from a vocation, and I wasn’t going to be responsible for any more.

  “Father Sullivan wanted to spend that time working with us, talking to us about marriage, but under the circumstances, I don’t think that’s going to be possible.”

  “You’re right. It’s going to be tough enough to get away for the license.”

  “He’ll understand. He’s a good man.”

  “Yes, he is.”

  “Julianne—before we go forward. Are you sure you don’t want us to try one more time to
talk to your parents? Maybe if they know we have a date set, that you’re serious, they’ll come around.”

  This is why I loved this man. The things he was willing to do for the sake of what was right.

  “If I had any hope that it would help, I would.” I rested my head against his chest, as I hoped to do for the rest of my life. “But they’ve cast their lot and so have I. Any mention of it would almost certainly bring on an attempt to stop it by any means necessary. It has to be this way.”

  “You know them best. I’m just sorry it came to this. I love you.” He kissed the top of my head before stepping away. “You’d better get back. I don’t want you getting into any more trouble. I’ll tell you what, in case we can’t talk, let’s leave notes here, under this rock. I’ll keep you posted on what is going on.”

  “That’s a good idea.”

  He kissed my forehead and held me tight. “Two more weeks, darling, and we’ll be together always.”

  “I can’t wait.” I avoided the moonlight on my way back in.

  My behavior was exemplary for the rest of the week, and Father even commented that I was taking things very well.

  “Well, I’ve been thinking about it, and you’re probably right.” I could feel the hellfire kindling already. These lies were getting easier as time went on. “Is that the package that needs to be brought to the train station?”

  He looked at his pocket watch. “Yes, and the courier is late.”

  “Why don’t I take it for you?” I noticed that the address was near the licensing office. This could be my only chance.

  I had turned my attention to some files, but felt his eyes upon me. If he was regarding me with suspicion, he pushed past it. “I suppose that would be fine,” he said. “Thank you.”

  I left a note for Kyle that night giving him the update. There was one the following evening.

  Hello, Gorgeous. Good news—the dispensation came through, we’re all set, and we should be able to get out early. How about Thursday? Be at our bench in the park at seven in the morning. Bring a suitcase with enough clothes for a few days. I’m taking you somewhere. It’s a surprise.

  All my love, Kyle

  Thursday! It was only three days away. Three days, and I would be married to Kyle. I used the back of his note to leave my own, saying that I’d be there.

  Father must have been softening, because when I asked him if I could go shopping with Lucille to Lewis’s on Ranelagh the next day to look at wedding dresses with her aunt, he didn’t immediately say no.

  “Wedding dresses? Isn’t that going to be a little tough on you, Princess?”

  “Maybe. But it’s Lucille. I can’t miss out on doing this with my best friend. A wedding is a once-in-a-lifetime thing.”

  “You’re right. And maybe I’ve been a little hard on you. It’s all right with me, since her aunt will be with you.”

  “She will.”

  “Have a good time.”

  “Thanks!”

  It was so good to be out with Lucille. Her usual efficiency had unraveled, and for once I was the steadying influence.

  “Oh, Jul,” she cried, “there’s twenty thousand things to do. I never imagined! And we’re having a small wedding!”

  She was drawn to dresses with flowing skirts, but I finally talked her into the more slender sort that lay like a sheath.

  “See, if the dress is simple, then we can do something fancy with your hair, like this.” I pulled it up into a loose bun, leaving strands running down her cheeks. “And we can put some flowers around here.” I traced the perimeter of her hair.

  “Oh, you always have the best taste, Jul. You’re absolutely right.”

  I ran my hands along some of the more beautiful gowns, just a bit sad that I would never wear one of them. I was going to wear a simple ivory suit that was already hanging in my closet.

  Her aunt left us after that, as she had other errands to run downtown. Lucille and I paused as we passed the lingerie section.

  “Should we?” She giggled and just stood there, as though waiting for my permission.

  “We definitely should!”

  We had snuck into this part of the store once when we were twelve and my mother was in the cosmetics section. We’d held things up to ourselves in the mirror and wrapped the whalebone corsets around our slender bodies.

  “Look at my bosom, Lucille!” I’d said, spinning around. It was just then that the sales clerk came over, waving her skinny finger at us. We dropped the corsets to the floor and ran off to another department.

  I looked at my friend now, remembering so many of our happy times. Now we were real women with real bosoms.

  “How about this one?” I held up a black one with some delicate red lace trim and handed it to her.

  “That is positively burlesque, Julianne! You are naughty.” But I noticed that she kept it tucked under her arm.

  I looked at a few items myself. I was especially drawn to a rose pink negligee with a diamond-patterned bodice, and a Fischer silk nightgown in an ecru tone. The capped sleeves and hemline were made of lace. I hooked the hangers on my finger. The Fischer gown had a matching robe. I picked that up, too. One can never have enough robes. And my parents would have spent far more on a traditional wedding.

  “Are those for you, Jul?”

  “Um, yes.”

  “Kind of fancy, don’t you think?”

  “Well, I’ll be getting married someday, too. Why not stock up now?”

  “You’re right. It’s fun doing this together. I like this one.” She held up a white one with a neckline that swooped down to the belly.

  “You’re the naughty one now, Lu.”

  She giggled. “I know. But, hey, you only have a honeymoon once. The price tag is maddening, though. It’s too much to spend, especially when you won’t be wearing it for long!”

  I looked at the tag. She was right—it would take most people a couple of weeks to pay for a gown like this.

  “But you know, it suits you. And you’re right. You only have one honeymoon. It’s my gift to you.” I added it to my pile and picked up a second one for myself.

  I selected some new silver cuff links for Father before we left, as a thank-you for letting me go today.

  I slipped my bags upstairs without anyone seeing and tossed a suitcase onto the bed. I packed everything I thought I’d need for a few days, putting the lingerie on top and smoothing it out so that it wouldn’t wrinkle much. I packed two trunks with nearly everything I owned and just missed needing a third one. I called for a mover to come by on Wednesday at ten, when Father would be at work and Mother would be at her monthly Ladies’ Auxiliary brunch.

  By Wednesday evening, I was all set to go.

  I had put off the last task, but couldn’t procrastinate any longer.

  There were two letters that I felt compelled to write.

  I decided to tackle the easier one first.

  17 August 1938

  Dearest Lucille,

  First, I am so happy about your engagement to Ben. He is such a decent and wonderful man, and you are lucky to have each other. I look forward to seeing lots of blue-eyed, dimpled babies in your future!

  Secondly, I am leaving in a few days. Of course I’m leaving next week for school, anyway, but I am leaving tomorrow. With Kyle.

  Don’t be shocked. Well, maybe that can’t be helped. We are getting married tomorrow. Of course, by the time you read this, tomorrow will have passed and I will be Mrs. Kyle McCarthy. (I love writing that!) We became engaged on the night of the auction.

  It has been very difficult not to share this with you, especially with all of the wedding talk. I almost broke down several times but stopped. And only because it’s for your own good.

  You see, we approached Father about it, and he refused us, for all the reasons that I know you can imagine. But I’m not going to let that stop me.

  Anyway, I didn’t want to ask you to lie or conceal anything for us, and that is why I had to make sure that we were
married and out of town before you knew. I will be back in a few days, and I hope very much that, if you’re speaking to me, we can celebrate together.

  I love you, Lucille. I already know that you will understand, and you’re an angel for it. There are some difficult roads ahead. But at least Kyle and I will be facing them together.

  Love, Jul

  The next one was much more challenging and required many more drafts.

  17 August 1938

  Dear Mother and Father,

  This is the hardest thing that I have ever had to do. But there is really no way to lead up to it, so I am going to get right to the point.

  By the time you read this, I will have married Kyle.

  There must be a million thoughts swirling around in your heads now, not the least of which I’m sure is some shock and anger. And you are justified in that. This is not what any of us planned.

  You see, I have loved Kyle for over a year now, and I’ve known that if by some miracle he loved me back, that this would always be.

  We wanted to do this with your blessing but were willing to proceed without it. We are not being impetuous, although it may seem so with its sudden timing. But it was in fact carefully thought out. We are both moving to London and find it appropriate on a number of levels to arrive there married. Kyle has inquired about a studio flat that is not far from school and not too far from his new job.

  I beg of you to consider opening your heart to him. He is a good, good man who loves me. He wants to take care of me. He has been a gentleman with me, and it pains him as much as it does me to hurt you and to go behind your backs. Perhaps even more. I know that he will be an exemplary son-in-law, and I hope very much that you will get to know him like I do and see him in this way.

  I will be back on Sunday afternoon. I can’t tell you where I’ll be because, frankly, I don’t know myself. Kyle has planned a little surprise honeymoon for us as a wedding gift. When I return, and the shock has worn off, let’s have a real discussion about this and about the future for all of us.

  I love you both. I love Kyle. And you all love me. Keeping this in mind, let’s make this all work out.