by Selena Kitt
Betsy felt her cheeks heat and then giggled. "Why doesn't that have me running away?"
"Because, little minx, I think that your big heart and sense of guilt have you grateful that someone may actually hold you accountable for your bad decisions. Especially when that same man promises to teach you pleasure as well. And that my friend, is a promise that is certainly worth exploring."
Chapter Five
Lilac scented letters flew across the Atlantic on an almost daily basis. Once she'd come clean and confessed her crime, Betsy felt free to become herself on every page. As her other pen-pals moved to new posts, returned home, or informed her that they'd found the woman of their dreams, Betsy did not add new names to her list. Jack kept her busy enough as she first filled her letters with rather mundane news but soon graduated to ones full of humor over the anecdotes she shared about her pupils' antics in the classroom. He responded with stories about his patients that often brought tears to her eyes. He wrote about his family until she felt as if she knew them. With every letter, he reminded her to be his 'good girl', which always had the instant power to make her heart beat fast, her bottom to clench, and her lady-bits to tingle at the thought of what would happen when she wasn't quite as 'good' as she should be. Before long, the letters became full of worries and feelings that often weren't shared by couples dating for months, if not years. It was far easier to voice her questions about his desires for his future on paper than it would have been sitting across from him on a date.
As the years passed with hundreds of letters shared, dreams were voiced and found to be of a like quality, emotions became deeper, and words of love and plans for the future were shared. She kept the photo he'd sent tucked into the frame of her dressing table's mirror. Betsy would sit and stare at the very handsome man, imagining him halfway across the world looking at the one she'd sent him. She'd dream of him, of being in his arms, and one day giving birth to his children. There were no more questions on his salutations, as every letter opened with My dearest Betsy and closed with All My Love, your Jack. Every night she offered up prayers for the safety of Jack and all the soldiers, and she sobbed her thanks when first Germany and then Japan surrendered. The awful war was finally over.
* * *
"God, you are practically glowing," Jane stated on the day of the town celebration to welcome soldiers home.
"Everyone is," Betsy stated, removing the last pin from her hair and brushing the springy curls into some semblance of order.
"No, honey, everyone is happy but you, my friend, shine like a lighthouse beacon. I am so happy for you."
Betsy hugged her best friend. "You were the one who lit the lamp. If not for your suggestion, I'd never have written to Jack nor fallen in love. I'll never be able to thank you enough."
"Just seeing you so very happy is thanks enough. Now, enough with the sap… we need to get going."
The town square was teeming with people. Bunting had been draped across every intersection along Main Street. Streamers hung from the light posts and small American flags fluttered around the perimeter of the bandstand. Everywhere one turned they saw red, white and blue.
"I have to admit, the decorating committee did an amazing job," Jane said.
Betsy giggled. "Hmmm, you wouldn't be saying that just because you were on that committee, would you?"
"Of course," Jane agreed. "After all, there were plenty of men volunteering to hold a ladder steady for a girl. How many men were in the kitchen baking cookies?"
"None, but as they say, the way to a man's heart is through his stomach." Betsy lifted the box she was holding. "How about helping me put these out? It's about time for the party to start."
"Honey, haven't those letters from Mr. Bossy taught you anything? A man doesn't care what you feed him as long as it gives him the energy for far more pleasant pursuits."
Betsy bumped her hip against her friend's. "Don't be naughty, and stop calling Jack 'Mr. Bossy.'"
Jane laughed and shook her head as the two began transferring the cupcakes from the box onto plates on one of the many tables that had been set up. "Fine, but I'm still willing to bet that even if you hand-fed a cupcake to one of these soldiers, the moment you kissed him he'd be unable to remember if he'd eaten chocolate or a piece of shoe leather."
"I'd love to test that theory but since Jack isn't here, I'll pass."
It was Jane's turn to bump her hip against Betsy's. "Could the thought of a certain major's hand have anything to do with that very wise choice?"
Betsy blushed, her tummy fluttering. "You are the naughty one," Betsy said.
"You'd better believe it," Jane agreed. "And speaking of naughty, there's Warren. I've gotta run. I'll catch up with you later."
Betsy watched as Jane left and noticed that she definitely wasn't running. No, her hips were swaying, as was her mane of auburn hair as she seemed to float towards her latest conquest. Even from a distance, Betsy could see how Warren Westbrook's face lit up at the sight of Jane.
Finishing with the cupcakes, Betsy slid the empty box beneath the table. Turning, she saw Mrs. Irving tottering towards her carrying one of her famous coconut layer cakes. Betsy hurried to relieve her of her burden, setting the cake in a place of honor.
"Thank you, dearie. Oh, don't you look as pretty as a picture?" Mrs. Irving said. Betsy smiled at the compliment. She'd spent hours the evening before measuring, pinning and finally sewing the hem on the full navy skirt. It might be silly but she loved the way it swirled and swished around her legs as she walked. A thin, red leather belt she'd borrowed from Jane's closet was around her waist and her white, lightweight sweater molded to her breasts.
"Thank you, and you look quite patriotic yourself." The older woman was wearing a red dress and a pair of saddle shoes which Betsy was positive were far more comfortable than the high heeled pumps she'd slipped into. When Mr. Irving joined his wife with a second cake, Betsy took the opportunity to slip away. There were still boxes of cookies in the car.
She paused for a moment as the local high-school band began to warm up, and her toes begin to tap with a rousing rendition of the popular song, Don't Sit Under the Apple Tree with Anyone Else but Me.
* * *
He stood on the edge of the grass and watched the little blonde head bop and her foot tap to the rhythm of the music. Out of the dozens of women roaming around the square he had eyes for only one. Striding across the lawn, he walked up behind her.
"My dearest Betsy," he said softly and saw her freeze before she began to turn. The smile that lit her face and the instant sheen of tears in her blue eyes pulled at his heart.
"Jack? My Jack!" Betsy squealed and promptly burst into tears as he gathered her in his arms.
"Don't cry, sweetheart."
"I can't help it! You're here! How… when…"
Her stammered questions were silenced as his head lowered and his mouth covered hers. He could swear he could smell lilacs and yet she tasted like the sweetest honey. He tightened his hold as her arms lifted and wrapped around his neck. All the horrors he'd seen and the years being gone disappeared in that moment… the moment he finally gave his entire heart and soul to the woman in his arms.
They only separated because both needed to breathe. Hearing a few chuckles, Jack watched as Betsy's cheeks pinkened and he grinned. Public displays of affection were frowned upon when in the service but at this moment, he didn't give a damn. "Carry on, soldiers," he stated. The men saluted, all flashing smiles before walking away. It wasn't until he'd kissed both of her cheeks, the tip of her nose, her forehead, and then her mouth until they once again needed to breathe that he finally loosened his hold. Sliding an arm around her waist, he loved the fact that she leaned into him.
"Nothing could keep me away from this," he said, his free hand waving to include their surroundings. "Your excitement about this day practically leapt off the page of your letters. I pulled in every favor I could to get here on time."
"I'm so glad," Betsy said. "I can't even begi
n to tell you how happy I am."
"Happy enough to dance with me?" he asked as the band began playing another song.
"All night long," she said. "Oh, wait, I forgot the cookies. I need to get them from the car."
"Are these the same chocolate chip cookies that threatened to make every soldier fat and unfit for duty?"
She giggled. "Those along with oatmeal, peanut butter, and shortbread."
Jack groaned and patted his stomach. "Lead the way. As an officer, I'll make the sacrifice to sample one of each to make sure they pass muster." He knew he'd never tire of the sound of her laughter. True to her word, there were several boxes of cookies piled in the trunk. When she picked up two, he shook his head.
"Pile them in my arms, honey."
"Don't be silly, I can carry them. How do you think they got in the trunk in the first place?"
This was as good a time as any to remind his little minx of the way their future would go. "Betsy, I don't care how they got into the trunk but I do care about how they are getting out. There is no need for you to carry them, especially not in those heels. Please, pile them in my arms." When she hesitated, he leaned forward and placed his palm against her cheek. "Or, if you'd rather, we can get into the backseat and I can warm your bottom first."
He watched as her mouth dropped open and her cheeks flushed. Her eyes darted around as if to make sure no one was close enough to have heard him before darting to the back window of her car. About to state that he didn't like repeating himself, he was very pleased when she nodded and allowed him to take the boxes from her.
"Good girl, now pile those other two on top." When she had, she closed the trunk and they walked back towards the tables.
"You really wouldn't have… would you?" she asked, her voice hushed.
"I most certainly would," he assured her. "I want to dance every dance with you, and if you turn your ankle carrying these boxes through the grass in those pretty heels, well, I wouldn't be able to hold you in my arms and twirl you about that dance floor."
Her smile reappeared and the two soon had the cookies placed onto platters. Hand in hand they moved towards the bandstand where Mayor Henderson was taking his place.
Jack didn't miss the fact that Betsy was blinking back tears as the mayor asked them all to bow their heads in prayer for the families of those who had given their lives for their country. He squeezed her hand a bit harder and offered up that prayer, as well as another thanking God for his blessing in keeping him safe and bringing him home to his Betsy.
As a pretty woman took the stage, Betsy whispered, "That's Jane." The crowd placed their hands over their hearts as she sang the national anthem. This time, Betsy wasn't the only one with tears on her cheeks.
Jane approached after graciously accepting compliments for her performance. "You found her I see?"
"Yes, and I can't thank you enough for all you've done to ensure that I did," Jack said, leaning forward and kissing Jane's cheek.
Jane laughed and reached up to give him a hug. "You can thank me by promising to keep my best friend happy."
"That's a promise I plan on spending the rest of my life fulfilling," Jack said, pulling Betsy a bit closer.
"Bets, I think you and Mr. Bossy are going to be just fine." Jane smiled as she gave them a final wave before walking off.
Jack looked down as Betsy giggled.
"Mr. Bossy?"
"It's her silly nickname for you. And, well, you have to admit you can be just a teensy bit bossy." She gave small gasp as his hand slid down to pat against the back of her skirt.
Her eyes met his and he saw desire filling their depths. Sending another prayer of thanks heavenward, he bent to whisper into her ear. "I'm going to thoroughly enjoy being your Mr. Bossy, my dear." She smiled and he watched her face flush when he gave her another pat.
He kissed her again and then took her hand and led her towards the dance floor that had been constructed next to the bandstand. As the band began to play, Betsy turned towards him, placing her free hand on his chest.
"Jack! That's the song they play in the movie, One Girl and Two Boys! It was so good. My feet were tapping throughout the whole film!"
Jack laughed and, placing both hands at her waist, lifted her and swirled her around. "My girl will only have one boy," he said with a grin, setting her down and continuing. "But, lucky for you, your boy loves to dance. Come on, let's go cut a rug and show them how to do the Lindy Hop."
Betsy's laughter rang out as he pulled her onto the floor and she forgot to be embarrassed wondering if she were doing all the steps correctly. Finally in the arms of the man she had fallen in love with through the written word, she no longer had to clasp an envelope to her breast and imagine what it would feel like to have him holding her. She smiled as he spun her out from him only to pull her back to spin her around again and again. She squealed when he lifted her into the air until she laughed, not even caring that her skirts flew up. Other couples joined them until the entire floor was full of swirling women and smiling men, everyone's faces flushed from exertion and pure happiness. Those not dancing stood around the perimeter of the floor, watching, hooting and clapping for all they were worth.
It had been a hard few years, with rationing of everything from gasoline to sugar, and it was time to party as soldiers returned to begin the next chapter of their lives.
Chapter Six
Spying her parents standing with a group of people, Betsy and Jack took a break from dancing. "Mom, this is Major Sommersby; Jack this is my mother, Mavis." Betsy shook her head and was slightly embarrassed when her mom flung her arms around Jack and squealed that it was so wonderful to finally meet the man who made her precious baby girl so happy. Her father, far less flamboyant in his greeting, shook Jack's hand and welcomed him home.
"Jack, you must come to services with us tomorrow," Mavis Riddle said, "and then out to the house for lunch. I'll make a nice pot-roast."
"Mom, I'm sure Jack is exhausted—"
"Not too exhausted," Don countered. "I've been keeping my eye on you two and I don't just mean that I've seen you tearing up the dance floor."
"Daddy…" Betsy began, only to look down as she felt a tug on her skirt. Sally Morgan peered up at her with big green eyes.
"My daddy said he's sad."
"Why would he say that, sweetie?"
Pointing her finger at Jack, Sally said, "He said that he's here and you won't be buying a gazillion stamps and he won't get any more pretty kisses but I told Daddy that I saw you kissing—a lot!"
"I was teasing, honey," Harvey, the town's postman, said with a chuckle. "I'll have plenty of letters to deliver but with the war over, I don't know how many will be sealed with a kiss."
Betsy didn't know whether to moan or laugh it off but heard her father firmly state that supper was at noon, and Jack's reply.
"We'd love to join you," Jack said before squatting down to face Sally. "One day you'll want to send 'kissy' letters too."
"Ewww," Sally said and shook her head. "No. I want ice cream." The adults laughed as Jack asked for Harvey's permission and then lifted the little girl onto his shoulders, grabbed Betsy's hand and headed towards the area where handles were being cranked to churn out homemade ice cream. Betsy took the cone he offered her and blushed yet again when he leaned in and suggested that the frozen treat might help take the heat out of her cheeks.
They joined the dancers again to do the Jitterbug, then Betsy laid her cheek against Jack's chest as he slowly waltzed her around the floor as twilight began to deepen. The party started to wind down after the fireworks show where everyone joined in the singing of patriotic songs. Fresh tears slid down faces as each person realized that God had indeed blessed America.
Jane found them and made sure they knew she'd volunteered to take Betsy's place on the clean-up committee.
"You don't have to do that," Betsy said, "I signed up and—"
"I know I don't have to, but since Warren will be helping and is taking me out
for coffee afterwards, well, don't feel as if you have to wait up for me." Before Betsy could react, Jane had smiled and hurried off.
"You must be exhausted," Betsy stated as she and Jack walked back to the car.
"I'm fine, darling, but you are limping a bit. Did I tread on your toes too often?"
"Oh, no, you are a fantastic dancer. It's my own damn fault. I was silly and stupid. I knew I should have worn my saddle-shoes instead of these…" Realizing he'd stopped walking, she looked up at him. "What's wrong?"
"What have I told you about cursing?"
"Cursing? I didn't curse!"
"Yes, my dear, you just did, and you also just insulted the woman I love. The fact that you don't even realize either has me concerned."
"You don't need to be, I'm a grown woman. Not that my parents seem to care. Now we have to get up early and go to church, then out to the house, where Mom is going to fawn all over you and Daddy is going to grill you about your intentions. It's bound to be embarrassing, and all I want is to spend time alone with you. I mean, it's not really their business. We are both—"
"Betsy, we can discuss that later. First we will be discussing your language, among other things. You are a teacher and your pupils look up to you as a role model. Cursing is not a good…"
"You didn't seem to think that having my students see us smacking our lips together all night was a bad influence!"
His only response was to tighten his hold on her hand and start towards the car again. She held her breath as he reached for the door, the memory of his earlier question about it being necessary to climb into the backseat leapt into her mind. She didn't dare breathe until he'd opened the front passenger door and stepped back, motioning for her to get in.