The Cherry Harvest

by Lucy Sanna

  All the way home Charlotte’s mind spun with plans. Kate would be leaving for school soon. Josie would take her place. She’ll have to learn how to do Kate’s chores. Yes, we need her now. Ben will marry her right away, before Kate leaves. That would be best.

  It will be nice to have grandchildren on the farm, she reasoned, even if they do have to be Catholic. With Josie’s limited domestic skills and Ben missing a leg, the children will have to learn their chores early. Charlotte would see to that.

  BY THE TIME THOMAS TURNED onto Orchard Lane, the rain had let up.

  Kate ran out from the house. “Ben! Ben!”

  “Hey, Kitty Kat!” Ben called from the open window.

  Charlotte watched Kate’s expression as Ben opened the passenger door, as he held to Thomas in getting down. Kate put a hand to her mouth, her eyes wide. But then she grinned and said, “Guess what I made you for supper.”

  “You? Cooking?” he teased.

  “Your bestest favorite.” She took his arm as if there were no crutches between them.

  “Not rib roast.” He looked at her sideways.

  “Yes, rib roast. And potatoes. And kale and eggplant from the garden. And I picked wild leeks from our hiding place in the woods, remember? And that’s not all—Mother’s cherry pie!”

  Ben gave a happy groan. “That’s what I’ve been dreaming about all this time. Rib roast and cherry pie.”

  Tears came to Charlotte’s eyes as she remembered how beautiful life had been, but would never be again. She put her head back and sniffed. No more feeling sorry! From now on, we move forward, focus on what we have, focus on the good.

  “Where’s Scout?” Ben gave a whistle.

  Charlotte’s eyes watered.

  Thomas cleared his throat. “Scout, he didn’t make it. Soon after you left.”

  “Scout?” Ben stopped and stood for a bit and wiped a sleeve across his face.

  “He was getting old, Ben,” Charlotte said.

  Ben nodded and swung slowly forward on his crutches.

  Entering the kitchen, Ben breathed in deeply. “Can’t believe Kate’s cooking would smell so good.”

  Kate gave his shoulder a friendly punch, like in the old days. He pretended to duck.

  Kate took the roast from the oven and put a bowl of vegetables on the table. “Go ahead. Sit,” she said.

  “Yes, ma’am.” As Ben moved toward his place, one of his crutches caught on the chair leg and he crashed to the floor. “God damn!” He struggled to rise.

  “Ben!” Charlotte jumped up.

  Thomas reached to help him, but Ben pulled himself up and stood against the wall, breathing heavily. A leg of the chair was broken.

  Charlotte held in her fright at his outburst and touched his arm. “Are you all right, Ben?”

  He stood, unmoving, eyes closed.

  Thomas brought in a chair from the dining room.

  Ben opened his eyes and stared at the broken chair. “Looks like I got myself a project here.”

  Charlotte took a breath, relieved.

  Kate put the platter of sliced beef on the table. “Supper’s getting cold.”

  AFTER SUPPER, THEY SAT IN THE PARLOR. Thomas must have told Karl not to come to the house because he didn’t, and Charlotte was grateful for that.

  Ben took a pack of Camels from his pocket. “Could you toss me the matches, Pa?” He caught the matchbox in midair.

  “When did you start smoking?” Charlotte said.

  “Boot camp, I guess.” He struck a wooden match against the flinty side of the box. “No, I started on the train to boot camp. Sat with a fellow who offered me a smoke.” Ben paused. “Eddie was his name. Never saw him again. Wonder where he is now.”

  A chilly breeze came from the direction of the living room. Ben laid the cigarette on an ashtray, got up on his crutches, and reached toward his duffel bag. Charlotte had to stop herself from getting it for him. He had taken off his Army jacket and now put on the blue vest. It looked so good on him. Once he was settled back on the couch, Charlotte placed an afghan across his lap, for her sake as much as for his.

  He bristled, frowned.

  “There must be a window open.” She rose to check.

  “What’s it like to serve under Clark?” Thomas was saying as Charlotte left the room.

  Sure enough, one of the living room windows was wide open. The rain came soft and sweet beyond the porch. Through the window she heard the drone of a motorboat. She watched it approach the dock. Josie! Oh please, God, if you exist, give this girl strength.

  Charlotte waited on the porch while Josie tethered the boat, then walked up the lawn. Spoiled girl. Probably never milked a cow or hoed a garden in her life. Charlotte would teach her. For Ben’s sake, Charlotte would teach Josie about being a farmwife.

  When the girl saw Charlotte on the porch, she stopped, then moved slowly forward.

  “Hello, Josie,” Charlotte called, forcing a friendly expression.

  “Hello, Mrs. Christiansen . . .” Once she was under the cover of the porch, Josie pushed back the hood of her yellow slicker to reveal lush dark curls, a yellow ribbon holding them neatly off her face.

  “I’m glad you came,” Charlotte said.

  Josie beamed at that. “Kate told me Ben was coming home.”

  “Yes, he’s here.” Charlotte studied the girl’s face.

  “She said he was . . . wounded . . .” Josie bit her lip.

  “You’ll need to prepare yourself.”

  “What is it?”

  “I’ll let him tell you.” After a pause, Charlotte said, “By the way, he’s wearing the blue vest . . . the one you knit for him.”

  Josie’s cheeks went scarlet.

  “The cabling down the front is particularly lovely,” Charlotte added.

  “I’m sorry . . . I’ll tell him—”

  “No need. I’m glad he has it. And if you don’t know how to knit, I’d be happy to teach you.”

  Josie gazed up at Charlotte reverently. “Thank you, Mrs. Christiansen.”

  “Let’s go in, then.” Charlotte opened the door and took Josie’s slicker to hang.

  In the parlor, Josie stood on the edge of the room and smiled at Ben. A tentative smile, unsure.

  Charlotte noted her look. She’s wondering why Ben doesn’t jump up to greet her.

  “Hello, Josie.” Ben’s smile was also tentative. “You look swell.”

  Yes, Charlotte had to admit, Josie was an attractive girl. Tonight she wore a ruffled yellow summer dress that showed off her curvy figure and shapely legs. They would have handsome children.

  Josie entered the room and sat next to Ben on the couch. “You look swell too.” She glanced down, then back to his face. “How are you?”

  What did she see? His face was hardened, but his eyes remained warm. His shoulders appeared broader than Charlotte remembered, and he sat up tall. A most handsome boy. A handsome man. A perfect model for a Greek god.

  After a short silence, he lifted a leg under the blanket, his good leg. “I lost the other one.” He was watching Josie’s face.

  She gasped. Her eyes wide, mouth open. She turned away.

  “It’s okay,” he said matter-of-factly. “They’re making me a new one. At Walter Reed.”

  “Oh . . . that’s . . . that’s good.”

  “I can get around.”

  Josie nodded.

  All was quiet.

  “Why don’t you two go out on the porch?” Charlotte finally said. “I’m sure you have a lot of catching up to do.”

  Josie stood and watched as Ben pushed aside the afghan and pulled his crutches from behind the couch. He led her slowly to the front door.

  When the door closed behind them, Kate whispered, “It’s not fair. It’s not fair what happened to Ben! I want to help him, but I don’t know what to do.”

  Thomas emptied his pipe. “He needs you to be a good sister, as you always have been.”

  “He needs you to be strong, Kate,” Charlotte added. �
��He needs all of us to be strong. We must go on, as always.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

  KATE WAS CARRYING MILK PAILS to the house the next morning when she saw one of Ben’s old high school chums riding his bicycle down the lane. She hurried into the kitchen and put the pails on the counter and went out to the back porch to greet him. “Craig!” she waved. As he came closer, she saw he had a patch across an eye. His face was caved in on one side.

  He stopped at the porch and put down his bicycle. “Hey, hi ya, Kate.”

  “Craig! Great to see you!” She moved forward and gave him a hug. “How are you?”

  “I’m okay,” he answered from the good side of his face. “Heard Ben’s home.”

  “Yes! He’s in the barn.” This was wonderful, just what Ben needed, a friend who would understand what he went through, someone to share it all with.

  Kate watched Craig walk his bicycle to the barn, heard Ben call out in welcome. She wondered about bringing them iced tea but decided to leave them alone.

  After some time, Kate spied the two of them walking side by side, Ben on his crutches, Craig pushing his bicycle. Laughing. Craig slapped Ben on the back. They shook hands. “See ya, buddy.” Then Craig rode off down the lane.

  When Ben came into the house, he shook his head. “Poor guy. Lost his face. Can you imagine?” After a pause, he smiled. “He’s going to round up some of the other guys who’ve seen action, get us a poker game going.”

  “Great. That’s just great, Ben.”

  “Okay,” Ben said. “I’m going out to see if Father wants any help.”

  “No . . .” Kate hesitated. He might run into the PWs in the orchard. “I’d love your advice. I’m . . .” I’m what? “I’m putting in a new flowerbed out front.”

  “Yeah, sure.” Ben grinned. “Let’s do it.”

  JOSIE ARRIVED LATE IN THE MORNING, and when she sniffed and pulled out her hankie, she said she had a cold. Kate noted her friend’s blotchy skin and swollen eyes and judged that it wasn’t a cold at all. Still, Josie wore a fresh pink dress and her hair was neatly waved. A good sign.

  In the barn, Ben was whittling away, whistling.

  “Look who’s here to see you,” Kate said.

  He grinned, smoothed his hair. “Hi ya, Josie.”

  “Hi.”

  Ben picked up his crutches and moved forward. “How ’bout we go to the cottage?”

  “Come with us,” Josie whispered, tugging Kate’s sleeve. So Kate followed the two of them down the path through the cedar trees. Josie held awkwardly to Ben’s right arm, a crutch between them.

  It was a balmy day, the sun bright on the lake. The well-trampled pine needles were soft under Kate’s bare feet, each step emitting a spicy fragrance.

  “Wait until you see what Josie’s done,” Kate said. “Everything’s so pretty.”

  Approaching the cottage, Ben stopped and looked about. “Flowerbeds. Those are new.”

  “I love flowers!” Josie said, perking up.

  Josie and Kate had transplanted wildflowers from the woods and meadows. Those that hadn’t died came up again in the spring, and now the yard held beds overgrown with buttercup, marigold, pansies, and mounds of downy purple phlox.

  “Come see.” Josie led Ben to a patch of wild strawberry she was encouraging along the edge of the woods.

  Ben beamed. “My little gardening genius. I had no idea.”

  “I like making things pretty,” Josie said. She didn’t acknowledge Kate’s part in it, but Kate tried not to mind. She just wanted them to be happy together.

  Inside, Josie showed off the newly painted kitchen—yellow and white. She opened freshly scrubbed cupboards ready to be filled with dishes and dry goods. “Do you like it?”

  “I’ll build a pantry for you,” Ben said, motioning toward an empty space between the cupboard and the icebox.

  Josie looked up at him, a loving look. “I’m glad you’re home.” She opened windows, and the soft lake breeze filtered in along with the sweet music of songbirds. “We’ll need curtains. Kate will help make them. Right, Kate?”

  “As soon as you choose a color.”

  “What color would you like, Ben?” Josie asked. “Yellow or white?”

  “What the hell does it matter!” he barked, his shoulders up, wary.

  Josie backed away, fear in her eyes.

  “Ben!” Kate touched his arm.

  He shrugged her off and turned away. “It’s just . . . sorry.”

  “What happened?” Kate asked.

  He covered his eyes. “After the grenade went off . . . curtains blowing out like they were alive and . . .” He took a breath and whispered, “Not yellow. I don’t want yellow.”

  Josie moved toward him and slipped an arm around his waist. “It’s decided, then. White lace. Got that, Kate?”

  Kate blinked away tears. “Got it. White lace.” She was amazed at Josie’s finesse.

  “Let me show you the back room,” Josie said.

  In the bedroom, Ben touched the quilt and pillows Josie had brought in. He glanced into the mirror the two girls had hung. He sat and bounced on the bed, patted the spot beside him. “C’mere.”

  Josie squinted toward his stubby leg and turned away. “Let’s go to the porch and sit in the sun.”

  Ben’s cheeks flamed, but he picked up his crutches and followed her.

  Josie perched on the wide bench swing. Ben sat beside her. Kate leaned against the wooden railing.

  “You like what we’ve done?” Josie asked.

  Ben put an arm around her shoulders and gave her a squeeze. “You bet.”

  They were silent for a while, watching the lake. A ship off on the horizon plied its way slowly north.

  “Where d’ya think it’s going?” Josie asked.

  Ben stared into the distance, solemn. “Probably taking war supplies somewhere.”

  “Well, I’m glad you’re not going anywhere.” Josie hugged his arm.

  He pulled away and put his hand into his pants pocket. He brought out a pack of cigarettes and shook one out. Josie didn’t ask for one—maybe she didn’t want him to know that she smoked—so Kate didn’t ask either.

  “We need some music,” Josie said.

  Ben sucked in deeply on the cigarette.

  “If we had electricity, we could get a radio,” she went on. “D’ya think we could get electricity down here?”

  He blew out smoke. “Sure. I’ll pull an extension from the house.” He didn’t sound excited about it.

  “You can do anything, can’t you?” She put her head on his shoulder, then sat up straight. “And when we have a radio and you get your leg, we can dance.”

  Ben’s eyes clouded. “Yeah. Sure.” He took a puff on the cigarette.

  Kate was feeling uncomfortable, a voyeur. “I’ve got things to do at the house.” She pushed off from the railing.

  “See ya, Kate.” Ben’s tone perked up. He gave Josie a quick kiss on the cheek and whispered something in her ear.

  “No, stay!” Josie rose and grabbed Kate’s arm, pleading.

  Kate didn’t want to stay, but she sensed panic in Josie’s voice. She returned to her position against the railing.

  Ben frowned. Josie sat back on the swing, not quite as close to Ben as before.

  “Say, why don’t we go swimming?” Ben said.

  Josie’s eyes widened in alarm. She shrank away.

  “Whatsa matter, afraid to see my leg?” He fingered the big safety pin. “I can show you right now.”

  Josie put out her hands against the sight. “No, that’s not it. No, not at all.” She floundered. “I just thought . . . maybe it would be hard for you to swim . . . until you get your new leg anyway . . .”

  “I can do anything. You just said it yourself.” He reached for his crutches.

  “Not now,” Josie said. “I’d have to go home to get my bathing suit, and my mother . . . she doesn’t know I’m here.”

  “What’d you need a suit for?” Ben smirked
and whispered loud enough for Kate to hear. “You didn’t mind getting bare naked with me before.”

  Josie’s face colored. “That was at night,” she whispered.

  “So what are you hiding? Night, day, what does it matter?” He sniggered. “If you’re my girl, I can see you any damn time I want.”

  “Ben! Stop it!” Kate cried. “If I were Josie, I’d slap your face!”

  Josie stood, lips trembling, and blinked back tears. Kate put an arm around her friend. How frightening it must be for her, how embarrassing. Was this what the war did to men? Kate thought of Clay—polite and tender. But Ben used to be like that too.

  “C’mon. I’m sorry.” He started to rise, then sat down again. “I’m used to kidding with my buddies. That’s what comes natural now. I need to get over it. That’s all. I’ll get over it.”

  Josie sniffed. “How long will that take?”

  “C’mon.”

  Josie sat on the edge of the swing.

  Kate had to do something. “How about if we play Monopoly? I’ll go get the game.” Ben loved Monopoly.

  “That would be fun,” Josie said.

  “Nah, I don’t want to play.”

  “Cards, then. We could play Hearts or Gin Rummy . . .” Kate said.

  Ben laughed. “One of the guys had a great deck of cards, pinup beauties. Not the kind you see in posters. Hah! Pokerface we called him. He was good at it.” Ben was quiet for a bit. “Poor kid got hit bad. Wonder if he’s still playing.”

  “I’ve never played poker,” Kate said. “Why don’t you show us how?”

  “Nah, it’s not for girls.”

  “Then what do you want to do?” Josie said.

  He poked her side and leaned in. “You know what I want.”

  Josie pushed his hand away and wrapped her arms protectively around herself.

  Kate’s stomach lurched. What would he do if he were alone with Josie? Kate shared her friend’s anxiety, yet she knew that Ben needed Josie to help him get back to his old self. “Let’s talk about your wedding,” Kate said, trying for a light tone.

  “Yeah, let’s get married.” Ben squeezed Josie’s thigh. “How about tonight?”

  Josie slapped his hand away. “You have to be nice to me or I won’t speak to you anymore, let alone marry you.”