Lily of the Springs

by Carole Bellacera

  I stared at myself in the mirror. Who was that beautiful stranger? My eyes were rimmed with liquid brown eyeliner—something I’d never dared try to apply—and my lashes were coated with midnight black mascara. My high cheekbones were defined further with pink rouge and my lips lined with a scarlet lip pencil, then filled in with Coty’s “Rhapsody in Red.”

  I smiled at myself to check if any of the vivid lipstick had traveled to my teeth as it was wont to do, and that’s when I heard the key in the lock. I whirled around and hurried into the living room, as fast as my baby-bulk would allow.

  “Jake! Thank goodness you’re home,” I called out as he stepped through the front door. “I thought sure Betty and Eddie would get here before you did.”

  He frowned and swept off his cap, tossing it on the end table. “What’s that crap on your face? You look like a two-bit hooker.”

  My smile froze. “Well, that’s not a very nice thing to say.”

  He strode past me, heading into the kitchen. “I call ‘em like I see ‘em. Christ! It’s been a long day. I need a beer.”

  I followed him, trying to swallow my disappointment at his reaction to my transformation. Lately, I’d been feeling less than pretty and more than awkward with the added weight of pregnancy. And darn it--Betty had done a good job on my new look, even if Jake couldn’t appreciate it.

  When I stepped into the kitchen, I found him peering into the refrigerator. “Son-of-a-bitch!” he growled. “Only one beer left.” He grabbed the lone can of Falstaff and slammed the refrigerator door. “What the hell are we supposed to drink tonight if we’re playing goddamn cards with the goddamn neighbors? Goddamn lemonade?” He scowled at me and pulled the utensil drawer open, peering inside. “Where the hell is the goddamn can opener?”

  My lips tightened. Even if I wasn’t the most religious person in the world, all those “goddamns” really offended me. “Gee, I’m glad you’re in a good mood tonight. Seeing as how Betty and Eddie will be here any minute.”

  He found the can opener and plunged the sharp tip into the beer can with an efficient, well-practiced hand. Tilting back his head, he took a long, thirsty draw on it.

  “I’m sorry I didn’t think about the beer,” I said, trying to placate him before our guests arrived. “I should’ve mentioned you were getting low.”

  Bowie County, Texas, was dry just like back home in Russell County. Whenever Jake needed to restock his alcohol, he had to drive the twelve or so miles over to the Arkansas side of Texarkana. We hadn’t been here long enough for him to acquaint himself with the local bootleggers. I had no doubt that would change soon enough.

  Jake didn’t acknowledge my apology. Taking another swig of beer, he moved past me toward the door. “I’m going to go change. What time are they supposed to get here?”

  I opened my mouth to tell him, but before I could speak, a loud rap sounded on the front door.

  A pained look crossed his face. “Shit,” he muttered, and left the room.

  Patting at my French roll, I hurried to the door.

  “We’re not late, are we?” Betty was talking before I had the door fully open. She breezed in with a wide smile, giving me an affectionate hug. “I know you’ve seen Eddie in the mailroom, but I guess you’ve never officially met. Yes, can you believe it? I’m married to the handsomest man in the building. Eddie, this is Lily.”

  I smiled up at a tall blond man with crystal blue eyes and deep, attractive grooves bracketing his smile. He was fashionably attired in brown dress trousers, a beige sweater over a shirt and tie, and a brown and white herringbone jacket. To me, he looked like a movie star—a combination of Gregory Peck and Gary Cooper. Somehow, I wasn’t at all surprised about that; after all, Betty looked like she’d just stepped down from the silver screen tonight in a clinging red-orange dress of rayon adorned with an oval gold pin at the shoulder that matched the clunky gold bracelet on her wrist.

  She scanned the room. “So, where’s that good-looking husband of yours? The second handsomest man in the building.”

  “Oh, he’s changing out of his uniform,” I said. “He got home from the post late tonight, naturally. It figures, don’t it? With y’all coming over.”

  Betty giggled and nudged her husband. “Didn’t I tell you she was the cutest thing you ever saw? Don’t you just love that accent?”

  Eddie Kelly grinned down at me. “It’s so good to finally meet you, Lily. Betty just can’t say enough about you. You’ve really captured her heart. Oh, this is for you.” He handed me an “Evening in Paris”-blue bottle tied with a red satin ribbon. “It’s Pinot Grigio from a vineyard close to our hometown. Every time we go home, we always bring back a couple of cases.”

  I took the bottle. “Thank you kindly, Eddie.”

  I’d never tasted wine before—and couldn’t imagine how it would go with fried chicken. But at least now, Jake would have something to drink besides his one beer. He might not be able to pronounce the name of the wine, but he’d surely have no trouble drinking it.

  “Well, why don’t we go ahead and open it while we wait for Jake?” Betty said, moving toward the kitchen. “Where’s your cork screw?”

  I frowned. “I don’t have one. Wouldn’t even know what one looked like.”

  Betty wheeled around and headed for the front door. “Not to worry. I’ll get ours. I need to talk to the sitter, anyway. I forgot to tell her about Davy’s pah-pah.” And she was gone, leaving Eddie and me in the room alone.

  At my look of puzzlement, Eddie shrugged. “Pacifier,” he explained with an impish grin.

  An awkward silence fell. I suddenly felt shy standing there with a man I’d just met. “Well, I’d better go check on supper,” I said, knowing full well there wasn’t a thing to be done in the kitchen.

  Before I could move, though, Eddie’s blue eyes shifted from me to the doorway leading into the hall. I turned to see what he was looking at.

  Jake stood there, dressed in faded Levi’s, a plaid short-sleeved shirt and a worn pair of Converse sneakers. Clutching the Falstaff can, he stared at Eddie, an odd look on his face.

  What on earth was wrong with him, I wondered. Darned if he didn’t look as pale as a ghost.

  Suddenly Jake straightened and brought his free hand to his forehead with a sharp snap. “Captain Kelly, sir!” he barked, his body rigid.

  Eddie Kelly saluted him back. “At ease, Private.”

  I stared as Jake dropped his hand to his side, but remained at attention.

  “I’ve got it,” Betty’s voice floated in from the hallway. “Let’s get that damn bottle of wine opened.”

  She burst into the room, waving the corkscrew, and came to an abrupt halt, apparently feeling the tension in the room. Her gaze darted from her husband to Jake, and she let out a disgusted sigh. “Oh, come on, you all. We’re not on the goddamn post, and even if we were, you two are off-duty. There’s not going to be any of that bull-shit kow-towing between us.” She flashed Jake a brilliant smile and moved toward him, her hand extended. “Jake, I’m Betty, and it’s so good to finally meet you.”

  Jake nodded and took her hand. “Ma’am,” he said, staring at a point beyond her head.

  “Oh, hell!” Betty dropped his hand and gave him a quick hug. “That’s better. Look, Jake, I want you to forget Eddie is an officer as long as we’re off-post. We’re from California, and we don’t believe in that non-fraternization rule. I’m Betty and this is Eddie, and don’t you forget it.”

  “That’s right, Jake,” Eddie said, crossing the room and extending his hand. “We don’t stand on ceremony off-post.”

  I was still reeling with shock. Not once had Betty ever mentioned Eddie was an officer. Why, if she had, I would never have had the nerve to say two words to her.

  “Now, how about that wine?” Betty said, turning to me. “And good Christ, what smells so delectable? Eddie, I’m telling you, this girl can cook like you wouldn’t believe. Well, you couldn’t stop raving about her raisin cookies last week.”
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  As we moved toward the kitchen, Jake caught my eye. I swallowed hard and looked away. For an eerie moment, he’d looked just like his father.

  There would be hell to pay later.

  ***

  “We’ll get together at our place next time,” Betty said, giving me a brief hug. “Thanks, hon. We had a ball. Didn’t we, Eddie?”

  Eddie Kelly smiled down at me. “We sure did. And dinner was great—the best fried chicken I’ve ever tasted.”

  I suspected he was just being polite, even though the chicken had turned out pretty good, if I said so myself. But Eddie was such a nice guy, he, no doubt, would’ve complimented me even if it had tasted like an old shoe. Jake, on the other hand, had scarfed down his food without a word of thanks, barely saying a thing to anybody during the whole meal.

  With one last goodbye and “see you tomorrow,” I closed the door and glanced up at the sunburst “atom” clock on the living room wall—ten-forty-five. Early for a Friday night. I’d expected the Kelly’s to stay at least until midnight. But it was no wonder they’d left. Jake hadn’t been exactly hospitable, answering any questions in as few words as possible, and never initiating conversation, even while we were playing Hearts.

  With a sigh, I headed for the kitchen to wash up the dishes that had been soaking in the sink since supper. Just as I was wondering if Jake had gone to bed already, I heard the toilet flush. He appeared in the kitchen doorway a moment later, a half-empty wine bottle in his hand.

  That was one thing, I thought. Eddie Kelly probably hadn’t been impressed with Jake’s conversation skills, but he’d surely been amazed by his capacity to drink. After the first bottle of wine had disappeared at supper, Eddie had gone back to their apartment and brought back another three bottles—the last of which Jake was finishing off now.

  Feeling his gaze upon me, I reached for the hot water faucet and turned it on full-blast. My earlier dread of what would happen once the Kelly’s left had turned to cold anger. Jake had promised me he’d make an effort to be friendly tonight. Was it my fault that Betty had never told me she was an officer’s wife? How could I have possibly suspected that? From the very beginning, she’d treated me like an equal. Of course, their two-bedroom apartment and the careless way she spent money should’ve been a clue.

  “Well, I hope you’re satisfied with yourself,” Jake said finally, slurring his words. “Embarrassing me like that.”

  The baby gave a hard kick inside my womb, and I drew in a sharp breath. I turned off the tap, thrust my hands into the sudsy water and began to furiously scrub the dishes.

  “I don’t know what the big deal is,” I said. “Betty and Eddie both said we didn’t stand on ceremony off the post.”

  “You don’t know what the big deal is?” Jake slammed the wine bottle down on the table so hard I thought sure it must’ve cracked. “I’ll tell you what! It’s a goddamn rule! No frater…frataner…shit! No socializing between officers and enlisted. And if somebody found out about it, you know who’d get in trouble for it, right? Me! Not smooth-talking Mr. High and Mighty Captain Edward Kelly. I’d probably get booted right out of the Army, and it would be your fault. God! You’re as dumb as a bag of rocks!”

  I stood stiffly, staring down into the dishwater. The suds from the cheap dish detergent I’d bought at the commissary were already dissipating. Hot tears blinded me, but I was determined not to let Jake see them. I wasn’t about to give him the satisfaction of knowing how much his cruel words had hurt me.

  Suddenly he laughed. “Yep, dummmm as a bag o’ rocks.”

  Maybe it was the sneering tone of his voice or maybe it was his cruel laughter that did it. Something snapped inside me and I stiffened, my hand tightening on the dishrag. Behind me, I heard a slurping sound and knew Jake had grabbed the wine bottle again. I reached for the dish towel and turned. Drying my hands, I stared at him.

  “The only one who embarrassed you tonight was yourself, Jake. You and your disgusting drinking.”

  Jake lowered the wine bottle and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. He was grinning, his blue eyes sparkling with meanness. “Dumb as a bag of rocks,” he said.

  I threw the dishtowel at him. “Oh, go to hell!” Never in my life had I ever said such a thing to another living soul, but this time, Jake had gone too far. I headed for the door.

  He moved like a flash of lightning, his hand curling around my upper arm, nails digging into my tender flesh. He wrenched me toward him so that his face was inches from mine. I flinched at the sour smell of wine on his breath. The grin had disappeared from his face. His eyes blazed. “It’s a damn good thing you’re pregnant,” he said. “Or I’d have to teach you a lesson about sassing me.”

  I stared back at him defiantly, but my heart was hammering. “Let go of me, Jake.”

  For a moment, our gazes remained locked. Jake’s grip on my arm didn’t loosen. My free hand cradled my bulging belly protectively. I didn’t really think he’d hurt me or the baby, but his drinking changed his personality. Anything could happen when he was drunk.

  But then I saw the flexed muscle in his jaw relax. He released me. “I’ll let it go this time, Lily Rae. I reckon all them raging hormones you got these days make you say stupid things. Just watch your mouth next time, okay?”

  I couldn’t trust myself to speak. Instead, I gave him a withering look and turned toward the kitchen door. But before I could step out into the hall, Jake spoke again, “Hey, if you want to play the part of a little handmaiden, you just keep on being friendly with Miss Shit Don’t Stink Betty Kelly. But don’t be invitin’ them over here anymore, you hear? I have to kiss them officer’s asses at work. I sure as shit don’t intend to do it at home.”

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  I had no intention of breaking off my friendship with Betty. The girl had been nothing but kind to me, and it didn’t matter a bit to me if she was an officer’s wife. Who cared about stupid Army rules, anyway? After all, I wasn’t in the Army; Jake was. So I’d be darned if I let the Army tell me who I could or couldn’t be friends with.

  The Monday after the Friday night the Kelly’s had come over, Betty knocked on the door a few minutes after Jake left for the post. With the baby in her arms and a bottle of formula stuck in his mouth, she settled herself down at the kitchen table just as she usually did, talking a mile a minute while waiting for me to pour her a cup of coffee. With Jake’s sharp words ringing in my mind, I couldn’t help but feel awkward with my friend. And Betty picked up on it right away.

  There was a soft pop from Davy’s mouth as she withdrew the bottle, and with a practiced movement, she positioned the baby on her left shoulder and began to pat his back, eyeing me from across the table. “What’s up with you, kid? You’ve been acting like the cat’s got your tongue since I walked in. What’s wrong?”

  And I blurted it all out—everything Jake had said about Army rules and how we weren’t supposed to socialize with officers and their wives.

  “Well,” Betty said when I finished. “That’s about the biggest load of crap I’ve ever heard in my life.”

  And as if to second that motion, Davy let out an explosive burp and looked around the room with his bird-bright eyes as if to ask, “Who did that?” Betty and I stared at each other, and then burst out laughing. That’s when I knew she’d be my friend for life, despite Jake’s feelings.

  Almost a month had passed since that morning, and Betty had become a mentor of sorts, teaching me to become more grown up and independent and to learn to think of myself as Jake’s partner in life, not his doormat. There was one more thing Betty had taught me, and that was how to drive a car.

  She’d taken me down to the DMV where I’d applied for a learner’s permit, and that very afternoon, I’d found myself behind the wheel of the Kelly’s ’51 Packard convertible in a deserted church parking lot with Betty sitting next to me and teaching me the basics.

  And today…

  I stepped into the DMV waiting room and triumphantly waved a
sheet of paper at Betty who was pacing the floor with an irritable Davy.

  “I passed,” I called out.

  A delighted grin crossed her face and she gave me a thumbs up. “Good for you, hon,” She raised her voice over the baby’s whimpering. “I knew you would.”

  “I just have to go get my picture taken. Shouldn’t be much longer.”

  When the man behind the counter gave me the license, I saw that my picture wasn’t half-bad. In fact, I looked healthier and prettier than a ripe peach in a Georgia orchard.

  Pregnancy agreed with me, I realized. Once the morning sickness had gone away, I’d started to enjoy being pregnant. And Jake was beginning to enjoy it, too. Well, maybe not enjoy it, but he’d certainly been lavishing attention on me lately. Since the baby had become so active, he’d started taking an uncharacteristic interest in my growing belly. The first time he felt the baby kick, a grin had spread across his face as wide as the Red River that flowed north of Texarkana. And one evening last week, he’d sat in the bathroom with me as I reclined in the tub and watched my belly go up and down like the baby was riding a bicycle in there, and the whole time, he seemed as fascinated as a boy with his first train set. He hadn’t been drinking as much lately either. I didn’t know why, and honestly, I didn’t care why. I was just glad because he was a lot easier to get along with when he wasn’t drinking. Maybe he was finally realizing it was time to settle down and take some responsibilities as a grown-up.

  Heading back to the waiting room, I thought about the evening ahead. It was pay-day, and Jake had promised to take me into Texarkana to see “Titanic” which had just opened at The Paramount on Main Street. I’d been dying to see it since I’d first heard it was coming out.

  Across the waiting room, Betty smiled when I walked in, waving my license. She rushed over and gave me a hug, squashing a disgruntled Davy between us. “I’m so proud of you, hon.”