Hannah's Moon (American Journey Book 5)

by John A. Heldt

  "I know. I should have given him more, but two dollars was all I had at the time," Margaret said. She gazed at David. "Professor Bell tells me it's priceless."

  David put the slip and the crystal in his pants pockets, took a breath, and then clasped Margaret's hands. He studied her beautiful, pleading, apologetic face before continuing a conversation that would have seemed unimaginable only minutes earlier.

  "I get the slip and the rock, but I don't get the rest," David said. "Why me? Why here? Why now? You can't be over Tom."

  "I'm not."

  "Then why are you here?"

  Margaret looked at David solemnly.

  "When I was in Michigan, I visited a cemetery and spoke to a woman who had lost her husband on D-Day — a young woman who remarried six months later. When I asked her if she felt like she had betrayed her husband's memory, she said no. She said her husband would have wanted her to be happy. She said he would have been angry, in fact, had she not lived out the life they had planned."

  "I know, but . . ."

  "Let me finish."

  "All right," David said.

  Margaret met his gaze.

  "The woman said more. She said that happiness is not something you find at the end of a rainbow. It's not a process. It's a choice. It's a choice everyone must make. So when I returned to Tennessee, I thought things over and made that choice. I decided that a life of smiles beat a life of tears. I retrieved that slip and jumped on a train. I concluded that I would never be able to live with myself if I didn't give you — and us — a chance."

  David appealed once again to his relatives. He didn't need a show of hands to know that every person at the table approved of this change in plans. He gazed at Margaret.

  "Do you know what you're getting into?"

  Margaret nodded.

  "The Bells have told me where you're going."

  "Aren't you afraid?" David asked.

  "No," Margaret said. "I fear only being without you."

  David looked at his vision again and wondered what he had done right. He could not believe that his life, which had changed so many times in the past few months, had done so once again. He leaned in and kissed Margaret tenderly.

  "If you've really thought this over, then I guess my course is set," David said. He smiled warmly. "I have no choice except to bring you along."

  CHAPTER 74: CLAIRE

  Tuesday, November 14, 2017

  For most visitors to Geoffrey and Jeanette Bell's West Adams estate, the large, plush lawn in back was a tribute to fine landscaping. To a sixteen-month-old girl who liked to run on grass in her bare feet, it was nature's welcome mat.

  Claire laughed as Hannah ran, walked, and crawled into her embrace. She wasn't sure if her daughter was ready for a toddler triathlon, but she was sure she was ready to explore the world. Since stepping into the twenty-first century Monday afternoon, the Chattanooga belle had welcomed her surroundings with open arms.

  Claire lifted the girl high, kissed her cheek, and handed her to the man she was getting to know all over again. She had worried that Hannah might not recognize or even warm up to Ron, but she worried over nothing. The child greeted her father like she greeted most people — with hugs and kisses and smiles.

  "She's in a good mood," Claire said.

  "Isn't she always?" Ron asked.

  "No. Believe or not, she has fits every now and then. You'll probably get the business end of one when you do your Mr. Mom routine."

  "You're really looking forward to that, aren't you?"

  "I am," Claire said. She smiled. "I want a break from the house for a while — and I want to see if my husband can handle two weeks of constant vigilance and dirty diapers."

  Ron laughed.

  "Thank God for Pampers."

  "Yes, dear, you are a lucky one."

  Claire started to say something more but stopped when she heard someone open and close the door to the basement. She turned toward the stairway that led from the basement to the yard just as Geoffrey Bell climbed the last few steps and came into view.

  "There you are," Geoffrey said. "I was afraid you were still on your walk."

  The professor walked across the yard with a sluggishness Claire had noticed before but never mentioned to others. He carried a piece of paper in his hand.

  "We returned ten minutes ago and decided to let Hannah feel the grass beneath her feet," Claire said. "What have you been doing? Planning our next trip?"

  Geoffrey laughed as he reached his relatives.

  "You might say that. I've been creating some documents you'll need when you go back to Tennessee on Sunday. This is the most important."

  "What is it?" Claire asked.

  Geoffrey handed her the paper.

  "It's Hannah's birth certificate."

  "We have her birth certificate," Claire said.

  "You have a certificate that says Hannah was born in Chattanooga on June 6, 1944. This one says she was born in Los Angeles on June 6, 2016. I suspect you will get further as her parents with the one I've provided."

  "I suspect we will too. I can't believe I didn't think of that."

  "You've had a lot on your mind lately," Geoffrey said. "It's understandable you would have forgotten that your toddler was born seventy-three years ago."

  Claire looked at the certificate. She didn't know what a real California birth certificate looked like, but she conceded that this one looked legit. Her uncle was not just a time traveler, a brilliant academic, and an overall good guy. He was a world-class forger.

  "Do you think this will fly?" Claire asked.

  "I'm sure of it," Geoffrey said. "It looks just like a birth certificate I ordered for myself earlier this year. Only the particulars are different."

  "Then it's perfect. Thank you."

  "Keep in mind this is only a tool. When you get to Chattanooga, you will need this tool to obtain a legitimate Social Security number and other forms of identification."

  Claire smiled.

  "I understand. Thank you again."

  "You're welcome," Geoffrey said. He looked at Ron and then at Claire. "I'm just happy I didn't have to send you home with a death certificate."

  "That makes two of us," Ron said.

  Geoffrey looked again at the veteran.

  "I haven't asked you about your time in the water because I suspect you are still coming to grips with it, but I would like to hear about it before you leave."

  "Let's talk tonight," Ron said.

  "Let's do."

  "Stand in line," Claire said. "I asked him first."

  Geoffrey smiled sadly.

  "You have a lifetime to hear his stories. I'm afraid I don't."

  "Maybe I can cover you both tonight," Ron said.

  Claire looked at her uncle.

  "See what you've started? He'll probably charge admission."

  Geoffrey chuckled.

  "If he does, I'll pay it. I'm sure he has an amazing tale to tell."

  "You sound like someone who hasn't done anything special," Claire said. "As a time traveler, I'm sure you have many tales to tell."

  "Oh, I do. I've seen many historical events, but I've always seen them as a witness. Your husband has seen one as a participant. That alone puts him in another class."

  "You're too kind," Ron said.

  Geoffrey smiled.

  "I'm always kind to Purple Heart recipients. So is Jeanette. Her fascination with our fighting men and women nearly matches mine."

  "Speaking of your thoughtful wife, where is she?" Claire asked. "We didn't see her or the others when we returned from our walk."

  "They went to the mall," Geoffrey said. He smiled at Hannah and then turned to Claire. "Jeanette and David insisted on buying Margaret a new wardrobe. I don't know why. I think she looks splendid as Veronica Lake."

  "I do too. I wish I could wear dresses that style," Claire said. She grinned. "I wish I could wear dresses that size."

  "You sound like your mother."

  "Did she compl
ain the last time you saw her?"

  "You might say that," Geoffrey said. He chuckled. "I think Joyce pines for the days of her youth."

  "That's my mom," Claire said.

  "Have you spoken to her? Have you called her yet and told her that your 'private adoption' was successful? Have you mentioned Hannah at all?"

  "I haven't. I wanted to talk to you and Jeanette and get our story straight before telling our friends and relatives. We have to create a whole narrative for Hannah."

  "We do. That's one reason I wanted you to stay the rest of the week," Geoffrey said. "We have many things to discuss, including something I haven't told you about."

  "What's that?"

  "I'd rather not say right now. I'd rather wait until New Year's Eve."

  "Why is that?" Claire asked. "What's going on then?"

  Geoffrey paused before speaking. When he finally answered the question, he spoke in a measured, serious, and thoughtful voice.

  "I'm hosting a gathering in Santa Barbara. I'm bringing back all of my time travelers to California and 2017 for a reunion of sorts. It's my fondest hope you will be there."

  "Are you kidding? I would walk to Santa Barbara for that," Claire said. "My husband, the one who rarely leaves work for anything, would too. Isn't that right, Ron?"

  Ron chuckled.

  "I guess I had better book a flight."

  "Don't do a thing," Geoffrey said. "Don't book a flight. Don't reserve a room. Just let me know when you can get away. I'll take care of the rest."

  CHAPTER 75: RON

  Thursday, November 16, 2017

  Ron got up from his chair, paced back and forth in the living room of the Painted Lady, and tried to think of something to do. He rarely had this problem as a sailor or a coffee shop owner. He simply did what his superiors demanded or what his customers requested.

  That was then, however. This was now. At two thirty in the afternoon, as Claire and Hannah napped, Jeanette shopped, and Geoffrey and David taught at their respective schools, Ron needed and wanted something constructive to do.

  Ignoring the television and the stereo, he walked to the window, peeked through the glass, and saw a quiet residential street. Then looked to his left, saw a woman sitting on the front steps, and decided he didn't have a problem after all.

  A moment later, he opened the front door, stepped onto the brick porch, and walked over to the woman. He addressed Margaret Doyle the moment she looked up.

  "Would you like some company?" Ron asked.

  "I'd love some," Margaret said.

  Ron waited for his former neighbor to slide a few feet to the right and then sat down next to her. He noticed that she seemed pensive, contemplative, and maybe depressed.

  "Are you all right?" Ron asked.

  "I'm fine," Margaret said. She turned to face her friend. "I've just been thinking about the past few days and my new life in this crazy time."

  "Do you regret leaving the past?"

  "No. I'm glad I left. There was nothing for me in 1945 except maybe a friend I'll never see again. I'm just a little apprehensive about what comes next."

  Ron rubbed his chin.

  "Have you told David how you feel?"

  Margaret nodded.

  "We talked about it last night."

  "So what's he doing to make things better?"

  "He's working with the Bells to bring me into the twenty-first century. They have already scheduled time for history lessons, driver training, and computer classes."

  Ron furrowed his brow.

  "I thought you had a driver's license."

  "I do," Margaret said. "I have a license and skills that allow me to drive in Tennessee in 1945. I guess driving in California in 2017 is a little more involved."

  Ron laughed.

  "You have no idea."

  "I'm not worried," Margaret said. "I'm smart and capable. I'll learn what I must to make it in this world, even if it takes me several months."

  "Then why do you seem down?"

  "If I do seem down, it's because I'm anxious about the future. I knew where I stood with Tom. I'm not quite as sure with David. I know he loves me and wants what's best for me, but he hasn't told me how our new life is going to work."

  Ron frowned.

  "Do you want me to speak to him?"

  Margaret shook her head.

  "Please don't. We will work things out."

  "OK."

  "I would like you to do something else though."

  "Oh?" Ron asked. "What's that?"

  "I'd like you to tell me about Tom," Margaret said. "Claire told me that he was part of your small group of survivors — or at least the group that survived the sinking."

  "He was. He was one of the original eight."

  "What was he like? I knew him as a college student and a recent graduate, a twenty-three-year-old who didn't know what to do with his life. You saw him as a mature man, a Navy officer, and a combat veteran. I want to know if he changed. I suspect that he did. He rarely shared unpleasant news in his letters. He knew I was one to worry."

  Ron sighed. How on earth was he supposed to answer that? He thought of all the things he could say and should say and finally settled on the unvarnished truth.

  "I can't tell you if he changed. I didn't know him as a civilian. What I can tell you is that Tom Pennington was one of the finest men on the Indianapolis. He was brave and respectful and very curious. He asked about you every time I spoke to him."

  "He did?" Margaret asked.

  Ron nodded.

  "He must have asked fifty questions about you. Most of all, he wanted to know if you were happy. He was just like you in that respect. He wanted to know if the person he wrote to was the same person he fell in love with."

  "Did he tell you how he felt about me?"

  "He did," Ron said. "He said he loved you."

  "You're not just saying that, are you?"

  "No. I'm not just saying that. You learn a lot about a man when you spend three days with him floating in the ocean — and the one thing I learned about Tom was that he loved you. You were the person who kept him going through three years of war."

  Margaret wiped away a tear.

  "Thank you. Thank you for sharing that."

  Ron put his arm around his friend.

  "Are you going to be OK?"

  Margaret smiled through her tears.

  "I am now."

  "I don't understand," Ron said.

  Margaret took a breath.

  "It's simple really. I'm going to be OK because I finally have what I've wanted for days. I have the word of a man I trust that Tom really loved me when he died. I can move on with my life now. I can put him to rest," Margaret said. "I can finally be at peace."

  CHAPTER 76: DAVID

  Saturday, November 18, 2017

  David moved at a glacial pace as he carried a loaded tray up the narrow stairs of the Painted Lady. He knew the food might petrify before he got it to Margaret, but that was OK. As long as he delivered this breakfast on this day, he would consider his mission complete.

  A moment later, as a clock chimed nine, David carried a plate of bacon, eggs, and hash browns; a bowl of fruit; and a mug of coffee into a guest bedroom. He smiled at the birthday girl as she stirred, opened her eyes, and sat up in her bed. Wearing a silky blue nightgown that Jeanette had bought for her, she looked like a supermodel on a good day.

  "Good morning," David said. "Did I wake you?"

  "No," Margaret said. She smiled. "The bacon did."

  "Is that good or bad?"

  "Is bacon ever bad?"

  David laughed. He remembered he was talking to a southern girl who had grown up in the twenties and thirties and not a vegetarian with special dietary needs.

  "I guess not," David said.

  He placed the tray on the bed, directly in front of Margaret, and then walked to the corner of the room to fetch a small wooden chair. He placed the chair by the side of the bed, sat down, and gave the main attraction his undivided at
tention.

  "What's the occasion?" Margaret asked.

  David stared at the main attraction.

  "Are you kidding?"

  "No," Margaret said. "I'm not."

  "It's your birthday."

  "My birthday is not for six more weeks."

  David chuckled.

  "I think we got our calendars crossed."

  "What do you mean?" Margaret asked.

  "I mean you're still in 1945. It's October 3 in your mind. It's November 18 in mine. I should have known something like this would happen."

  "It's really November?"

  David nodded.

  "I guess Geoffrey and Jeanette didn't tell you about that. When the five of us traveled to 1945 several months ago, it was November 13, 2017. We were able to return to the same day, as if we had never been gone, because of the power of the white crystals. That's why I tried so hard to find mine in Chattanooga. Without it, I would have been stuck in 1945."

  Margaret raised a brow.

  "Would that have been so awful?"

  "No," David said. He sighed. "With you it would have been pretty nice."

  Margaret placed her hand on David's.

  "Thank you for breakfast and for remembering my birthday. Given that I never told you when it was, that's pretty impressive. How did you know?"

  "Laura told me at dinner that night. I made it sound like Claire and I wanted to do something special for our friendly neighbor," David said. He looked at Margaret with serious eyes. "I did not tell her that I was completely in love with you."

  Margaret gave David's hand a gentle squeeze and then leaned toward him as he leaned toward her. She met him halfway and gave him a long, tender kiss.

  "Thank you again," Margaret said. Her eyes became moist. "This is one of the nicest things anyone has ever done for me. I didn't get a lot of this growing up."

  David smiled warmly.

  "That's going to change. I will never neglect you."

  Margaret took a breath.

  "I know."

  "I got a present for you too."

  "Oh?"

  David nodded.

  "We're going to see a lot of Dodgers games next year. I bought season tickets. Spring training is just three months away."

  Margaret looked at him funny.