Takin' The Reins

by Stacey Coverstone

  Love, N

  Jordan read the next several letters with rapt attention. She was so engrossed in the dramatic story, it was hard to believe this was her family history she was reading about. She felt very thankful to her aunt for having left the letters for her to find. Now, if she could only figure out the identity of N!

  May 26, 1942

  Dear L,

  You know me better than anyone, except my mother and father of course. I’m not generally a complainer, but it is like a lunatic asylum here. The military and the war are nothing like I expected. The posters back home show young men in pressed uniforms, sleeping in clean barracks. Let me tell you, it’s not like that at all. We’re packed in like sardines, and Lord, it’s so hot. I’ve not stopped sweating since I stepped off the plane, and supplies and fresh water are scarce. The mosquitoes are terrible. They’re the size of baseballs and I’m bit to death. The one silver lining beneath this dismal cloud is that there are men representing every state here, and most are real good guys. A group of us play poker at night. You won’t believe this, but my bunkmate is from Pueblo, Colorado! We both miss the cool mountains of home. I keep thinking about that swimming hole where we shared our first kiss. Do you remember that day? I do. You were so precious acting like you’d never been kissed before when I knew for a fact you’d been kissed by Johnny Edwards during a game of spin the bottle when we were kids. I bet you didn’t think I remembered that, did you? Ha. Ha. I spend many long hours in my bunk recalling stories and moments from our past. Lord, I can’t wait to take you back to that swimming hole and make a new memory! An announcement was just made and orders have been given. It is lights out, so I must close. I miss you.

  Love, N

  June 3, 1942

  My Darling L,

  This letter must be brief. Today we were told we will be attacking the Japanese tomorrow in the early hours of the morning. We will strike both by air and by land. I am on an island called Midway. Maybe you can look it up on the map. I have never lied to you and I won’t start now. I am afraid. We’re all afraid. Keep me in your prayers. Though we are all soldiers eager to defend our wonderful country, we are really just kids who miss home and our sweethearts. We will, however, fight like men in order to win this war. If anything should happen to me, please know that I love you.

  Yours always, N

  Jordan couldn’t read fast enough as she opened the next letter.

  June 12, 1942

  My Dearest Lydia,

  You must know by now that I’ve been injured and will be coming home soon. I do not know when, because I must go through many weeks of rehabilitation, but it is a fact that my military career is over almost as fast as it began. I cannot, and will not, tell you about the horrors we experienced at Midway. Suffice it to say, I know now why they say war is hell. I am dictating this letter to a very kind nurse because I’m still unable to hold a pen. The army nurses here are wonderful. I don’t know what we’d do without them. They make such a contribution to the war effort. Doc says therapy will help strengthen my hand. Several of us in my unit were hit with shrapnel during the invasion. I was knocked unconscious and was very surprised when I awoke and realized I was alive. I had dreamed I was entering the Pearly Gates. I am very sorry to say that my bunkmate from Pueblo did not survive. Knowing that you will be waiting for me is what gets me through the long, lonely nights as I wait patiently for a release date. Do not be afraid. I’ve been through what no human being should ever go through, but I’m not a broken man. Just a little cracked up. Ha. Ha. That’s a joke. Seriously though, it’s nothing your touch can’t heal. Yours always, Nate

  Nate! At least Jordan now knew that the initial N stood for Nate and L was definitely Lydia. But who was Nate? If only Lydia had kept the envelopes with the letters. The return addresses would have supplied her with Nate’s last name and all the information she needed to crack this mystery. She read on.

  June 29, 1942

  Lydia,

  I have just received your letter and I must be honest with you. I am at a loss for words. I have always known you to be an impulsive and independent girl. That is one of the reasons I love you, but I never imagined you were so foolish! I simply do not understand why you have joined the Army Corp of Nurses. You tell me it’s to help the war effort, and also because you can no longer sit at home doing nothing when all your friends are off fighting. You must realize how worried this makes me. Lydia, you have no idea what you’re getting yourself into. You tell me you’re going to Guam. I’ve heard of it. It’s a small island full of jungles and malaria out in the middle of the ocean. I cannot believe you may be there for a year. I, the man you claim to love, am shocked to the core by your decision. I find it incomprehensible that you can be so selfish as to willingly risk your life this way. But it’s done now, isn’t it? I must close or I might write something I will really regret. By the time you receive this letter, I will be home sleeping in my childhood bed. Isn’t that the damndest coincidence? I’m sorry for swearing, but I’m at my wit’s end and shaking with disbelief and fury over your choice to leave family and friends, and me. I will write to you at the address you have provided.

  Nate

  Lydia became a nurse! That would explain her caring nature toward animals. Jordan wondered if any of her friends in Tulie knew she’d been a World War II nurse. In Jordan’s talks with Wyatt, he’d not mentioned anything that would suggest Lydia had shared that part of her life with him. Jordan questioned whether her own mother had ever been told details of her aunt’s life. Again, her thoughts moved to her grandma and the reasons for dismissing Lydia from her life. With eagerness, she read the next three letters to see what more she could learn.

  July 9, 1942

  Dear Lydia,

  I am home. I have not heard from you, but I’m hoping our letters have crossed in the mail. I received a warm welcome upon my arrival in Denver, but I cannot help but feel humiliated and like a yellow coward. I only fought in one battle and was injured almost as soon as we stormed the beach. I am no hero. Far from it, but everyone keeps calling me one. They’re even going to name a street after me, for God’s sake. Your folks invited me for dinner tonight. They are very worried about you, as I am. No one understands why you had to up and leave the comfort of your home and family. You should have stayed right here in Colorado and served the war effort, just as your sister is. Laura is raising money for war bonds. She is contributing to the morale of the war effort through personal sacrifice. I, better than anyone, understand the sacrifice you are making, but I also know you didn’t have to go halfway around the world to do it. I apologize, sweetheart. I’m lashing out because I’m scared to death for you, and I miss you with all my heart. I will write again soon.

  Love, Nate

  July 15, 1942

  Dear Lydia,

  Thank God our letters did cross in the mail. I was beginning to think you’d forgotten all about me. I understand you may not be able to write for some time, as your situation in Guam has become dire. I sincerely hope you are able to receive this letter. We all pray for your safety and well being every day. I take it you did not write your parents about the nurses who have been captured and transported to Japan. It’s just as well. Hard as your mother is at times, I fear it would be the undoing of her if anything were to happen to you. Here on the home front, Laura is organizing campaigns to practice frugality. Do you have any idea what that means? I didn’t. Ha. Ha. She had to explain it to me. What she does is speak to other women about carrying groceries instead of using the car in order to preserve tire rubber. She encourages the planting of victory gardens, and she assists in sewing and repairing people’s clothes. The President has encouraged everyone to support the war effort by not buying new clothes or aluminum. I am very impressed with the way in which Laura is handling herself through this tenuous time. You would be proud of her. I think of you fondly and look forward to receiving a letter from you at your earliest. Love, Nate

  August 12, 1942

  Dear Lydia,<
br />
  I was glad to receive your last letter, short as it was. At least I know you are alive and well, considering the circumstances you are in. Yes, I remember well the heat and the mosquitoes in the Pacific, although it seems like a lifetime ago that I was there. My hand is fully recovered in case you’ve been wondering. It did not surprise me to learn that you have chosen to remain on Guam for at least eight more months. I know you are dedicated to your service as a nurse, and I’m sure you’re a fine one. I do, however, wish you were as loyal to me and to the life I thought we’d planned together. It seems that is neither here nor there, as your mind is made up. I’ve always said you’re as stubborn as a mule. On a lighter note, on her free days, your sister and I have been taking walks or going for ice cream down at the Creamery. It does us both good to talk about you and share stories. I still have nightmares occasionally, and it’s been a tremendous help to talk to her. Be safe.

  Nate

  As Jordan re-read this last letter, she sensed a change in Nate and his own loyalty to Lydia. She shivered, as if someone had just walked over her grave. Continuing with the next letter in the stack, her eyes skimmed it quickly, afraid of what she was about to read next.

  October 15, 1942

  Dear Lydia,

  I’m sorry it has taken me so long to write. By now you know that I am a yellow-bellied coward. I was waiting until you received your mother’s letter so I wasn’t the one to tell you. This is the most difficult letter I have ever had to write. Please believe me when I say I am truly sorry for the way things have turned out. I did not plan on falling in love with Laura. You are there and she is here, and she’s been very loving and supportive of me. I need someone, Lydia, and Laura has helped me through some very lonely times. Times I thought you would be helping me through. She wants a home and family like I do. She wants to take care of me. She has chosen me. Everywhere we turn, couples are getting married. It’s an epidemic. Boys going off to war want to leave a bride behind. They want to be assured someone will be waiting for them when they return home. I understand, because that’s what I wanted, too. Maybe Laura and I got caught up in the hype, maybe not. I respect her and we share the same common goals. I know she loves me. I hope you will find it in your heart to forgive me, and her, someday.

  I remain fondly, Nate

  Jordan laid the letter in her lap and gazed straight ahead. Nate planned to marry Laura? Waves of bewilderment swept through her body. Grandma Laura was married to someone else before she married Grandpa Will? And he was someone she’d stolen from her sister. She wondered if her mom ever knew this bit of news. Jordan thumbed through the next letter. Hopefully, light would be shed on the mystery that was becoming more compelling and baffling by the moment.

  April 22, 1943

  Dear Lydia,

  I know it’s wrong to be writing you. Laura will have my hide if she ever finds out. I don’t have to tell you how jealous she can be. However, I had to let you know I am truly sorry you’ve been injured. I am, after all, your brother-in-law and I care deeply for you. Your folks say you will be coming home in a few weeks. The newspaper reports you were a heroine and that you will be receiving the Purple Heart for saving many lives when the hospital was attacked. You have always been so courageous. Therefore, I was not surprised. I am very proud of you. It seems such an odd twist of fate—both of us hurt in the war and back home within a year’s time. I know how you had hoped to stay on Guam and serve as long as the Army would allow. I guess we do not always get what we hope for. I am the perfect example of that.

  I shouldn’t confess this, but I have always been honest with you, and I can’t change now. I have made a big mistake in marrying your sister. I beat myself up wondering why I didn’t wait for you. Is there any bigger fool than me? I have loved you since the day I pulled your ponytail in the fifth grade and you stabbed me in the wrist with your pencil. I suppose I will always love you. It does neither of us good to look back, but I can’t sleep at night until you know of my regrets regarding you and me. It makes my heart glad to know you are safe and will be home soon.

  Yours Sincerely, Nate

  Lydia had been a brave woman to stand stood up to Addison Stillwell, but his threats must have been child’s play compared to what she’d experienced in the war. Jordan’s heart swelled with pride for the aunt she’d never had the privilege to know.

  August 1, 1943

  My Dearest Lydia,

  I don’t expect you to ever forgive me for what’s happened. I’m ashamed. Deeply ashamed. You are better off without me; that much I know. But in the same breath, I must tell you that I have always loved you and I always will, although I’m sure I have forsaken the right to express these feelings. My words probably mean nothing to you right now. I can only imagine how miserable you must be, feeling like a prisoner, living in that home with strangers. You have always been such a free spirit. So independent and strong. Why did you allow your family to send you away? I answer my own question when I look in the mirror each morning and glimpse at the coward I have become. You had no other choice. I realize that, much too late. Your parents have only said I will know your fate and the fate of our baby when the time is right.

  Laura will barely speak to me. We sleep in separate bedrooms now, but she refuses to give me a divorce. She says I have made my bed, and now I must lie in it. I believe she intends to make me pay for the rest of my life. No matter what you may think about me, I do not regret that afternoon down at the old swimming hole. From the moment you arrived home, I’d been rattled to my core. I couldn’t stop thinking about you. I couldn’t stop dreaming about you and wishing that we’d made love, just once. I had to get away and think. When I found you sitting by the water that afternoon, I believed my dreams had come true. When you told me you’d never stopped caring about me, well… I shouldn’t have kissed you, but I had to feel you in my arms again. It’d been such a long time. As we know, one thing led to another and… I may be a fool, but you don’t regret it, do you? If I had the guts, I would leave Laura and bring you and the baby home where you belong. Oh, Lydia. With all my heart and soul, I am sorry.

  Nate

  Jordan stared at that letter for a long time. Lydia was pregnant by Nate; that much was clear. But what about the other things he had said? Laura refused to give him a divorce. She intended to make him pay for the rest of his life. Jordan turned onto her side and propped against her elbow with her cheek in her hand. Her head felt like mud. It was impossible to comprehend what Nate’s words meant, but a sour feeling settled in the pit of her stomach.

  Carrying the packet with the last of the letters into the bathroom, she sat them on the commode and ran a deep bath. Needing to ease her aching muscles and clear her head, she sprinkled some salts into the water and sunk into the warm tub. Sometime later, she gingerly held the next letter up in front of her, taking care not to get it wet. It was time to read the final chapters in her family’s story of secrets.

  April 9, 1944

  Dear Lydia,

  This is just a short note to let you know that the baby is healthy and growing stronger and more beautiful every day. I had no idea I could be so in love with another human being, but I am. She is a precious little girl—the sweetest little bundle on earth and I adore her. Lydia, you may be amazed, but I’m a good father. Laura does her best, but motherhood does not seem to come naturally to her. She bathes the baby and feeds her, of course, and tucks her in at night, but she doesn’t smile at her much. I rarely see her rocking the babe, which sets my heart to stone. There have been times when I’ve caught Laura staring at the child in her crib, and I wonder if she’s thinking about how much she looks like you. She has the same dimples and even the same little cowlick you had as a girl. I ask myself, will Laura ever truly love the child the way a mother should love her daughter? I hope so, for the baby’s sake. But I fear the truth. Laura can’t stand that the baby is yours. If she cannot accept the child, I will love the baby enough for both of us. Or shall I say, for the three of us. I wish y
ou all the best as you start your life fresh in New Mexico. Good luck.

  Fondly yours, Nate

  P.S. We named the baby Elizabeth, but I call her Bitsy since she was born so small.

  Jordan’s chest tightened like a grip. She clutched at the side of the tub with her free hand and water splashed over and cascaded to the floor. I call her Bitsy, because she was born so small. Her mother’s nickname was Bitsy. Grandpa Will had called her that all her life, but her Christian name was… Elizabeth. Jordan dried her hand and slid open the next letter. She could barely breathe. The letter was dated thirty-four years after the last one.

  June 7, 1978

  Dear Lydia,

  If your sister ever found out I have written you, she’d probably string me up in the nearest tree. I had to write, however, to apologize for what happened when you were here recently. Generally, I’m not one to make excuses for Laura, but I know it was a terrible shock to her, your showing up on the doorstep like that after so many years. It’s a pity the argument escalated the way it did, especially in front of the grandchild. Little Jordan is only six, but her emotions run deep, just like her mother, and just like me. I’m so very happy you got to meet our granddaughter and see Bitsy. Bitsy has grown into a beautiful woman, wouldn’t you agree? The visit was long overdue. It’s just a shame she will never know the truth about you. Stay well. I think of you often. Nate

  Jordan’s heart lodged in her throat. The next-to-last item in the pile was an ivory colored envelope. She slid her finger under the flap and read the wedding announcement inside.