His gaze reached to her heart and held it. “Do I get a kiss from the birthday girl?”
You’re going to. At least, one time, she was going to feel his mouth on hers. Still holding her hands, he started to brush her cheek. She turned and took the kiss full on her mouth. His hands on hers tightened. For a startled instant their lips clung. She felt more than heard the swift, sharp intake of his breath before he stepped back, setting his hands on her shoulders as if to keep distance between them.
“Happy seventeenth,” he said. Smiling ruefully, he shook his head. “Doggone it, Laurie, you’re growing up on me.” He might try to pass it off like that, deny it had happened, but with a thrill of woman-pride, she knew that for that naked, unguarded second, he had answered her as a man, he had returned to her at least a flash of what she felt for him.
That was birthday gift enough, her first kiss, bittersweet, seized rather than given, but all the same, John Morrigan’s. Even if it was wicked to turn a friend’s big-brother kiss into a real one, she wasn’t sorry. It might be the only time she’d ever taste his mouth.
“Buddy,” he said, “Help me get your sister’s present. Someone’ll have to hold the door open.”
“If it’s that big, I hope we got room for it.” Way glanced around apprehensively.
Johnny grinned at Marilys. “We measured. It’ll fit right there between the sofa and the door.”
“What on earth—” puzzled Laurie.
“You’ll love it!” Marilys promised, and opened the door.
Buddy hefted up a square cabinet with doors and put it in the space Marilys indicated, then went outside. Morrigan carried a square boxlike case with a transparent top, placed it on top of the cabinet, and unwound a cord, which he plugged into an outlet.
“A phonograph!” Laurie breathed. She’d seen them in store windows and dreamed of owning one someday but there was always a more urgent need for money.
“When you want music but don’t feel like making it yourself,” Johnny laughed, eyes dancing with light she thought must be reflected from her own. “Got you a start of records—hope you’ll like them.”
Buddy staggered in with a crate of 78 RPMs. “Gracious Johnny, you must’ve bought out some Oklahoma City store!” Marilys cried. “Ohhh, look! Here’s Louie Armstrong and ‘My Blue Heaven.’ And ‘Blueberry Hill’!” She held up another record. “Duke Ellington with ‘Mood Indigo.’ I love that!”
There was “Fats” Waller with “Honeysuckle Rose,” “Ain’t Misbehavin’,” “I Can’t Give You Anything but Love,” and more; Cole Porter’s hits, including “Night and Day” and “I Get a Kick Out of You”; George Gershwin’s “Oh, Lady Be Good!” and “Someone to Watch Over Me”; tunes from Rudolf Friml’s “Rose-Marie” and Jerome Kern’s “Showboat,” half a dozen numbers along with Way’s favorite, “Ol’ Man River,” sung by Jerome Bledsoe, the marvelous black baritone. Bessie Smith’s records included W. C. Handy’s “St. Louis Blues.” There was Leadbelly, who’d served time in Texas and Louisiana pens, at least once for murder, with “Pick a Bale of Cotton,” “Irene, Goodnight,” “Easy Rider,” and other ballads with the twelve-string guitar. Jimmie Rodgers had died in 1933, but here was his music, magically preserved beside that of the Carter Family.
Laurie couldn’t have been more stunned if a million dollars had dropped in her lap—or been anything as pleased. Once again Morrigan had given her music, picked out his favorites and songs he thought she’d like. She would treasure them forever. Unable to speak, she gazed at him.
“Hey!” His eyebrows raised as he thumbed a tear from her cheek and spoke softly. “Crying, honey? I thought it was a dandy notion but—”
Overcome, Laurie stammered. “It’s—it’s—I can’t say how wonderful it is!”
“Don’t need to, as long as you like it.”
His smile flooded her like sunlight. Dazzled, she could only look at him. “Well, Laurie, let’s try it out.” He switched on the phonograph, selected a record, and put it on. Taking her hand, he set his other hand at the small of her back and took a gliding step to “Somewhere Over the Rainbow.”
“I can’t dance!”
He smiled down at her. “Sure you can! Just let yourself go with me and the music.”
Melting her, his hand spread almost across her back, bringing her easily with him. He didn’t hold her close but she was so near that the radiant warmth of their bodies fused, joining them invisibly. He laughed when she stepped on his toes, swung her as exuberantly as he could in the small space, and guided her back and forth, back and forth, till she stopped worrying about her feet and let herself flow with him. More than anything she’d ever experienced, dancing with him had the enchantment of floating up and down on a carousel steed, lost in the magic, wanting it never to end.
Marilys urged Way up for the next tune, which finished the record’s three-and-a-half minutes. “You pick one, Marilys,” Laurie said, wondering if Johnny knew he still had hold of her hand. Couldn’t he feel her inner trembling, sense that as she followed him in the dance, she longed to follow him always? Fearing that he’d read her thoughts, she closed her eyes when he took her in his arms again. But surely, anyway, he could read her body?
They were dancing to Gershwin’s “Rhapsody in Blue” when the door opened. “Hi!” Crystal moved between the dancing couples and sat down on the couch, crossing her long legs. “I got back early from Okie City and decided to crash the party.” She got out a pack of Camels and started to shake one out.
“Crystal,” warned Johnny. “Don’t smoke in here.”
“Some party!” she complained above the music. “No smoking, no drinking! Do we get birthday cake and pink lemonade?”
“There’s Coke, coffee, or hot chocolate,” said Marilys, dancing on determinedly though Way’s feet slowed and tangled. He said Crystal always made him feel like he had egg on his face and holes in the seat of his pants.
As the rhapsody ended, Crystal unfolded her legs and bent to examine the records. “If I can’t smoke or have a martini, I guess I’ll dance,” she said. She put on a record and smiled at Laurie. “Mind if I cut in?”
Claiming Johnny, she pressed her cheek to his, in fact, to “Body and Soul,” she molded against him breast to thigh. Flushing, Laurie pulled the record crate out of the way and concentrated on going through them, forcing herself not to glance toward Johnny and Crystal. The woman plainly had his body, if not his soul, and Laurie couldn’t believe she knew how to value either. But no good could come from that sort of thinking.
Johnny’s in love with somebody else. That’s all there is to it, she scolded herself. He brought you a wonderful present, and you’ll have the music a long time after tonight. Besides, you did kiss him. You did have your first dance ever in his arms.
All the same, she could have wept with frustration at the way Crystal had sailed in and ruined her party. Not that she was going to let the nasty cat see how upset she was! When the record finished, Laurie stood up.
“Let’s have the cake,” she suggested. “Everyone has to get up early in the morning.”
“You’ve got to have your special song.” Johnny got his harmonica out of his jacket. He played “Las Mañanitas,” the beautiful Mexican birthday tune, and grinned as Marilys lit the candles cupped in yellow roses on the lovely white-frosted cake. “Take a deep breath, Laurie,” he advised. “Blow ’em all out first time and you get your wish.”
Closing her eyes, she started to wish that someday, somehow, they could be together, but then she stopped that hope, drove it away, and willed with all her being. I wish you’ll be happy, Johnny.
When she opened her eyes, smoke curled from all the candles. “Well,” Johnny said, “You get your wish.”
“I hope so.” She took the knife from Marilys and began to cut the cake.
Johnny and Crystal came to the hotel for breakfast next morning. Crystal had a sleepy, sated look. Johnny’s eyes looked sunken. He tossed aside a paper as Laurie brought their coffee. “I was
never sure we belonged in World War One but we ought to be fightin’ this one—now, not after England’s smashed.”
“I can’t see why you get so worked up about it,” Crystal said, yawning. “There’s always a war on somewhere.”
“This one’s different.” Johnny brooded for a moment. “At least the RAF has that Eagle Squadron—all the pilots are American volunteers. If I knew how to fly, I’d go in a second.”
Crystal’s eyes narrowed. “You’ve already registered for the draft. If you’re called up, you’ll have to go. But unless you are drafted, it wouldn’t be fair to Dub to leave him without a working partner.”
“If the Nazis start on us, he may lose a damn sight more than a partner.”
“Oh, Johnny, they won’t get over here!”
“They may if we let England go down the drain.”
She looked at him, pouting. “What about me? You’d go off and leave me here biting my fingernails, worrying about you?”
“You stay too busy to miss me much,” he said drily. “Hell, sometimes I feel like you’re married to Dub instead of being his secretary.”
“I am the company’s bookkeeper,” she reminded him. She smiled coaxingly at Johnny. “After all, darling, you’re Dub’s partner. What helps him is good for you.”
In the next weeks, the RAF fought off the Luftwaffe so fiercely that Hitler had to postpone plans for sending his armies across the Channel. Besides, German armies were needed to aid Italy’s assault on a desperately resisting Greece. In November, Way refused to vote for Roosevelt’s third term. “I like most of what FDR’s pulled off,” he said before he and Marilys went to vote. “But no human ought to be head of a country that long. Gettin’ too much like a king.”
Marilys scrunched her nose at him. “He’s got my vote,” she said. “But I’d sooner elect Eleanor. There’s a real fine lady.”
Roosevelt won his third term. A German bomber scored a direct hit on Buckingham Palace. Princess Elizabeth was about Laurie’s age, with Princess Margaret younger. Laurie was glad they weren’t hurt. Japan was angry because the United States had stopped selling it the oil and scrap metal needed for Japan’s war with China.
“You know what I’d like to do?” said Way late one night as they sat drinking hot chocolate. “Start a salvage business. Seems like a good time for it when the defense factories are usin’ so much steel and iron. There’s thousands of dollars’ worth of pipes, generators, pumps, tools, boilers—all kinds of stuff that the big companies sell cheap when maybe it just needs a little repair. I’m a fair hand at welding. Reckon there should be a good profit in sellin’ good used equipment to small operators who can’t afford new.”
“That sounds like a great idea, honey.” Marilys still worried about Way’s asthma and wanted him to get work that wouldn’t keep him out on the dusty roads. “Guess the problem’s getting started, but we have a little saved.”
The trip to Rosalie’s had depleted Laurie’s hoard but it was building up again and she hadn’t spent her share of Mary Halsell’s payment for the Ford. “I can put in seventy dollars.”
“I’ll give my Ford money,” Buddy volunteered, puffing out his chest with an entrepreneurial glance at Everett.
Sighing, Everett relinquished his weekly movie and chocolate soda. “It’s not much, but I’ll kick in what’s left over from my board and what I have to send Pa.”
“No, you won’t,” commanded Laurie. “You don’t begin to eat what you pay for board so you’re already helping a lot.”
“That’s right, son.” Way looked from Buddy to Laurie. “You kiddos sure you want to sink all your money in this?”
“None of my pals own part of a business!” Buddy grinned. He shot a sidelong glance at Laurie. “If you’re going to need a helper—”
“You can help after school and on weekends,” Laurie said in her most quelling tone before excitement made her jump up and kiss Way on the cheek. “Oh, Way, that’ll be grand! To have your own business!”
“Our business,” corrected Way, taking her hand and Marilys’s as he beamed at the boys. “I’ll start huntin’ bargains tomorrow but I won’t quit my pumpin’ job till I’ve delivered enough orders to let contractors and purchasing agents know I can hustle up what they need at a fair price.”
“How’ll you work your job and do that?” Marilys frowned.
He squeezed her hand reassuringly. “Sugar, until I can afford a big stock, I’ll pretty much find my buyer before I put much money into something.” When they all looked puzzled, he explained. “Let’s say some major oil company wants to sell some used seamless pipe. I quote ’em a price and ask for a three-day option, or ten days, or whatever I need. If I find a buyer, I use my option, and the buyer gives me a check. I take out my profit and send the rest to the oil company. The buyer picks up his pipe, and everybody’s happy.”
“Looks like the company would just sell to the buyer to start with,” said Everett.
“Too much trouble for a big outfit. I earn my profit by connecting the party that wants somethin’ with the party that’s got it. But sho’, soon’s as I can, I’ll have a regular supply yard. I’ve already talked this over with Johnny. Wouldn’t let him stake me like he wanted to, but I sure won’t fuss at any business he sends my way.”
A few days later, on a lead from Johnny, Way put together a deal for three hundred thousand feet of lapweld pipe. With the profit, he bought some tanks and a welding outfit, repaired the leaks, and swapped the tanks and some of the pooled cash for a load of seamless pipe. Within a few weeks of FDR’s election, Way had done enough deals to rent a vacant lot. He’d wanted to make the sign read FIELD-KIRKENDALL SALVAGE but Laurie argued him out of that. “You can do a lot with your name, Way. The Way to save—the Way to good used equipment—the Way to better deals.”
“Reckon so,” he finally agreed. So the sign read:
WAY TO SAVE
WAY TO BEST USED EQUIPMENT
WAY TO BETTER DEALS
WAY SALVAGE
The night the sign went up, Laurie was accompanying herself on the guitar as she sang in the dining room. Johnny and Crystal were at their usual corner table. Suddenly, Johnny looked startled, then joyous. Bringing Crystal’s hands to his lips, he kissed them.
Laurie struck a wrong chord. What had Crystal told him? It wasn’t that often, from all Laurie could see, that she said or did anything to make him glad. The woman was like a—a whirlpool, an irresistible vortex that swallowed everything and wanted more. Laurie recovered herself enough to finish Jimmie Rodgers’s “T for Texas.” As she nodded and smiled her thanks at the applause, she sensed a presence.
Glancing up, she looked straight into eyes she thought tawny brown till the young man—boy, really, perhaps her own age—cocked his head so that better light revealed the green in his eyes.
“Are you Laurie?” he asked. “Laurie Field?”
“Yes.” She felt spied on, taken unawares at a vulnerable moment. “Who in the world are you?”
The eagerness faded from his long, straight-planed face. When his flesh filled out to his bones, he’d make a strapping, handsome man. He already had a man’s deep voice but something in his manner reminded her of Buddy. She wished she hadn’t been so sharp.
“I’m Jim Halsell.”
She stared. “You—you wrote my mother,” he added.
“Mary Halsell?”
The eagerness was back. He nodded. “You met me in the camp outside Eden.” He grinned. “You were Larry then.”
Laurie rose, setting down the guitar, and warmly offered her hand. “I’m glad to see you again, Jim. Have you had supper?”
“No. I just got to town.”
From the rumpled, gaunt look of him, she suspected he’d come on a freight and had missed a lot of meals. She remembered how that was. “I haven’t eaten, either. Let’s take that little table by the window and talk while we have a bite. The chilies rellenos are real good.”
A rush of scarlet covered his freckles. “Sor
ry I can’t treat you, but I—I don’t have a dime.”
“You don’t need it. My meals are free when I’m working and I can have a guest now and then as long as I don’t overdo it.” She’d never tried it but if there was a question, she could settle up quietly.
To spare the waitresses, who were rushed as was usual on Friday nights, she placed their order in the kitchen, asking the cook to give Jim doubles, and went back to join him and cross the room to their table. Johnny watched, frowning. She gave him a brilliant smile.
“Who’s your feller, Laurie?” called a black-haired Cajun driller she’d refused to date. “Better toss him back in the lake to grow a little!”
Jim stopped beside the driller, who was short but bull-chested, and renowned for stomping his opponents into the mud. “I reckon, sir, I’m growed enough to say that you better respect this lady.”
The Cajun blinked coal-bright eyes. He started to scoot back his chair, then shrugged and grinned. “No offense, youngster. You bet I respect that lady. Just call me jealous.”
To Laurie’s surprise, Jim pulled out a chair for her and pushed it in before he took his own. Johnny did that for Crystal but most men didn’t bother. “I want you to tell me everything you remember about my father,” she said. “But first, how’s your mother and sister and little Rob?”
“Rob’s in second grade and just fine.” Jim’s mouth was straight but it curved tenderly as he spoke of his kid brother. “He’s everybody’s pet. Bernice—well, she’s really why I’m here.”
“How come?”
He studied his big hands. “Mom—she’s—well, she’s expecting a baby. She’s having trouble, probably because she’s older, so she had to quit her job. Her husband, he’s a good man, I guess, and cares about her, but he can’t see why a girl needs an education. He thinks Bernice ought to quit school and help Mom till she’s up after the baby comes.”
“And then?”
He shrugged. “He wants her to do housework for other folks or get some kind of job. Says she’ll get married by the time she’s eighteen so what’s the use of wasting her time in school?”
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