by Aubrey Wynne
“Do I gotta? It’s Christmas!”
“Exactly. That’s why you gotta,” she answered, hands on her hips as turning to Joey. “Both of you!”
A knock on the door gave Leroy his chance to pick up Snoopy and make a run for it. Joey opened the door to reveal Shirley, holding a casserole dish.
“Merry Christmas!” And she whooshed in as if she’d been invited.
“Sorry I’m running late, honey.” She gave Laura a kiss on the cheek and continued into the kitchen. “Max, come here so I can give you the directions on heating this breakfast casserole.”
Tears stung Laura’s eyes, and she realized how disappointed she would have been without her mother today. “Mom, you didn’t have to—”
“Pish-posh. Just because I’m married to a stubborn old goat, doesn’t mean I’m missing the holiday with my little girl and her new family.” She hugged Joe then Laura. “I compromised. I spent Christmas Eve with Glenn and told him if I had to spend another day looking at his sullen face, I’d commit myself. So here I am, preserving my sanity.”
“And we’re happy to have you, Shirley,” Max chimed in. “Mrs. Avery brought over some biscuits yesterday. I’ll whip up some sausage gravy to go with them while y’all are at church.”
“It’s settled then. Joe, you can carry the gifts from the car when we get back.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He put his arm around Laura and pulled her close. “And thank you. From both of us.”
That evening, Joe walked Shirley out to the car. “It meant a lot to Laura Beth that you were here today. I want you to know, I tried to convince her to tell you both about the wedding.”
“Truthfully, Joe, she did the right thing. I thought it about all last night. If she had told her father, he would have had the same reaction. Glenn would have found a way to stop her or ruined the day with his attitude.” She reached up and patted his cheek. “You know how I feel about the two of you. I am disappointed about missing the ceremony but…”
“But what?”
“If I had known and not told Glenn, he would have been devastated. We don’t keep any secrets from each other, and Laura knows that. The good lord will whisper in my husband’s ear, and this will be resolved eventually.” She balanced on her toes and gave him a peck on the cheek then a tight hug. “You enjoy every moment of this next week. And don’t either of you waste a minute of it on regret. Promise? Not a minute.”
“Yes, ma’am. I promise.”
He stood outside a long time, watching the red taillights fade into the blackness. She was made of tougher stock than he’d thought. His mama would have done something like that if Pa was being pig-headed. A melancholy settled over him, thinking of his mother who couldn’t be here, and a father who wouldn’t. Joey wasn’t quite sure which was worse.
Pa had already turned in, and Laura Beth was finishing the dishes. “She’s safely off. That was real sweet of her to buy a gift for Leroy.”
“The store manager assured her that “Let’s Play Mailman” was one of their biggest sellers.” She rinsed the last dish and wiped off the vinyl countertop. “Done.”
Joe came up behind her, pulled at the apron strings, and the flowered cotton fell to the floor. He turned her body around, pressing her against the sink. “I’ve been waiting for hours to do this.”
He cupped her face in his hands and kissed her. Hungrily, greedily. Her lips were soft, her body yielding. He drew in the scent of her, the lingering lavender that was uniquely her. “God, I love you.”
She leaned up on tiptoes and claimed his mouth again. Joe lost himself in her touch. He didn’t know if Laura would patch things up with her father. He didn’t know if Pa would stay strong when it was time for him to go. He didn’t know if he would come back from the war. But he knew one thing for certain: every moment with Laura Beth was a precious gift. He would follow Mrs. Walters’ advice to the letter.
Chapter 8
“Your heaviest artillery will be your will to live. Keep that big gun going.”
Norman Cousins
January 2, 1953
Sweet Grove train station
The chug of the engine rang in his ears as everyone talked at once.
His father wagged a finger at him. “Keep your head down, boy.”
“Let us know you arrive safely.” Shirley handed him a bag. “I made some goodies for the trip.”
“Can I have your medals when you’re a hero?” Leroy jumped up and down to get his attention.
“I’ll write every day,” promised Laura Beth.
He held up his hands. “Hey, I only have one set of ears, y’all.”
Joey received another bear hug from Pa, bringing back memories of another summer when his father had stood on this platform and shown such affection. With Mama by his side. It seemed liked eons ago. Oh, to be heading back to Austin for another semester, instead of boot camp in Fort Hood.
He gave Mrs. Walters a hug and thanked her for the baked goods. “I’m sorry Mr. Walters couldn’t make it. I hope he feels better.”
Shirley gave a snort. “Yes, bless his heart. I’ll take real care good care of him.”
The glint in his mother-in-law’s eye almost made Joe feel sorry for Glenn. Almost. With a grin, he teased, “Your daughter must inherit her compassionate side from you.”
Leroy thumped at his belly, and Joe automatically tightened up as his little brother used him for a punching bag. “Keep a tally on how many planes you shoot down. I have a bet with Charlie that my brother will knock down more enemy planes than his.”
Joe squatted down to Leroy’s level and ruffled his hair. “I’m not a pilot. I’ll be driving those big tanks.”
“Even better. Golly, I’d like to ride in one of those.”
Laura knelt down and squeezed the boy. “I hope you never have the opportunity.”
They both stood, gazes locked. Anxiety knotted his belly as the worry and pain flickered across her face. “I wish I could say something to relieve your fears. I promise to do my best to come home to you.”
“It’s in God’s hands now, and I have complete faith he will bring you back.” Her breathing was shallow after he kissed her. “I have a new job, and Max and Leroy will keep me busy. I’ll write every day.”
“It eases my mind to know you’ll be staying with them.” He folded her in his arms and whispered in her ear, “When you’re lying in my bed, open the shades, and look up at the stars. I’ll do the same, and whisper ‘I love you’ every night.”
Laura Beth’s eyes shone with tears as she nodded. “I promise.”
The whistle squealed a warning call, and he picked up his duffle bag. As the train pulled away, he kept his eyes glued to his family until they were specks in his hazy vision. Wiping his eyes, he closed his lids and said a prayer for the first time since his mother died.
April, 1953
Sweet Grove
The apple tree was loaded with pink buds ready to bloom. The flowers she planted the previous week provided an explosion of color along the fence surrounding the back door. Leroy had helped her pull out the patio furniture and wipe down black frames with turquoise cording. He had sat on the vinyl strips while they were still wet and roared at the stripes left on the back of his legs.
Laura Beth’s stomach growled from the smell of barbecue and charcoal. It was a beautiful spring day, and she rubbed her belly with a smile. “I sent a letter yesterday to Joey, so I can tell Max and Leroy now. Did you tell Daddy?”
Her mother shook her head. “Not yet. That man’s more obstinate than a mule on a cliff. But I’ve got a stubborn streak too. And he can fend for himself on Sundays until he sees reason.”
Laura reached out to squeeze her hand. “I miss him, Mom, but I can’t apologize for living my own life.”
“Well, you should have seen his face when I walked out of the house with his favorite potato salad.” Shirley laughed. “He followed me out the door, whining. ‘Now just a doggone minute. You could leave me a bowl.’ And I told hi
m he was welcome to more than that if he came over to the McCalls.”
Shirley had decided that if Sundays were to be a family day, then she needed to spend it with an entire family. So each week, Max provided the meat, and Laura and her mother took care of the rest. “Last week you brought your jalapeño macaroni and cheese. I don’t know how he’s holding out.”
“If a baby doesn’t sway him, I give up on the man. It will be his loss.” Shirley nodded at Max, hovering over the ribs on the grill. “How will you tell them?”
Mischief sparkled in her eyes. “Watch.” Laura picked a small bag from the rippled glass top table between them.
“Leroy, come here. I have a present for you!”
“Me? Really?” He ran over to the women, bouncing on his toes. “What is it?”
“Open it up and see.” She handed him the brown paper bag. He bit his lower lip as he tore it open.
Leroy pulled out a green and yellow rattle; the beads inside the plastic circle clattered when he shook it. “Aw, it’s a baby toy. I’m too big for this.”
Max’s head jerked up, his eyes growing wide. Happiness tickled Laura’s belly. “Hmm, maybe you could give it to the baby then.”
“What baby?” The boy scrunched his eyebrows together then looked around the yard. “There ain’t no baby here.”
“There isn’t a baby here—yet.” She grinned as her father-in-law reached them in three strides. “But there will be next October.”
“You mean… We’re having a baby?” Max stood behind his son now, staring at the rattle.
“You’re going to be a grandpa and”—she poked Leroy in the belly— “an uncle.”
The whoop of joy Max McCall let out made both women jump then hoot with laughter along with him. “I’ll be. A baby. A baby!” He looked up at the cloudless, powder blue sky. “Did you hear that Dixie? We’re going to be grandparents.”
May, 1953
Pork Chop Hill, South Korea
Joe held the letter up to the dim light. His bunker was cold and damp, but the sight of Laura Beth’s flowing script cheered him. He tuned out the ever-present rat-a-tat-tat of gunfire and boom of grenades and small explosives. The 7th Infantry Division had been digging tunnels, adding outposts, and sand-bagging bunkers around Pork Chop Hill. The fighting to take that hill from the North Koreans had been bloody. So had the battle for Old Baldy and Triangle Hill. If he never saw a mound of dirt again, he’d be happy.
He still said a prayer of thanks every night for his position of mechanic. He had avoided having to kill anyone and felt blessed for that, but he still risked his life every day. The struggle to keep tanks and jeeps running was never-ending. Most of the machines would have been junked if not for the Korean War. When machinery went down on the field, it was Joe’s responsibility to get it up and running or tow it out. They would leave nothing, not even scrap metal, to the enemy.
He knew the sound of a bullet whizzing past his head, and relived the sight of body parts flying through the air when he closed his eyes at night. But the worst part of his job was body retrieval. It was both a privilige and a horror to fetch the corpses of men he called friend and family in this forsaken land. They all deserved than a military funeral; their families needed closure. It was the least Joe could do for his brothers. If he went down during a retrieval mission, he would be added to an honorable list of men who had given the ultimate sacrifice for their country and freedom.
Another explosion shook the ground. The light flickered as he squinted at Laura Beth’s words.
Dear Joey,
I hope this finds you safe and unharmed. Spring has come to Sweet Grove, and the apple blossoms are just peeping out. Leroy tries to use them for BB gun practice. His aim is atrocious but his determination is invincible. He brags about his big brother, the soldier, every day. From the way he talks, I won’t recognize you when you come home. Your shoulders are at least three feet wide, and you probably stand at about six foot seven by now.
I still open the shades each night and whisper “I love you” just like you asked. My heart cries for you every day, but I know deep in my soul you will return to me. Especially now that we have a baby on the way.
Yes, you read that correctly. We are expecting a child in October. I’m turning into a plump wife. My belly is swelling just a little, my face is filling out, and Max can’t keep enough barbecue in the house to satisfy my cravings. When you need to take your mind off your troubles, think of names. I prefer Joseph Evan McCall Jr. for a boy, but what about a girl?
I pray you will be home by the time the baby is born. We scour the papers and listen to the news every day. The peace talks continue and, the lord willing, the fighting will end soon. Please know that I am with you in spirit every second of every day.
All my love and kisses,
Laura Beth McCall
P.S. I just love writing that last name. It looks so natural, doesn’t it?
Joe smiled. “You’re beautiful.” Then his heart pounded. A baby. They were having a baby. He’d better be even more careful then, extreme diligence keeping his head down and avoiding land mines and bullets. He needed to see his daughter. Or son. But somehow, he knew she would be a girl. And her middle name would be Dixie.
Chapter 9
“When you reach the end of your rope, tie a knot in it and hang on.”
Franklin D. Roosevelt
October 3, 1953
Sweet Grove, Texas
“Max! Max, wake up. It’s time.” She shook her father-in-law’s shoulder. He rolled over, blinking his eyes. “I need you to get the car and take me to the hospital.”
He shot out of the bed like one of Leroy’s toy rockets. Grabbing a pair of jeans, he hopped on one foot, missed the opening, and fell against the dresser. “Here we go, here we go,” he said over and over in a panicked voice. “What do you need me to do?”
“Brush your teeth, comb your hair, and get the car. We’ll pick up Mom on our way.” She walked to the door and paused, trying not to giggle as he dressed over his pajamas. “And take a deep a breath before you turn purple.”
Laura waited until she was back in her bedroom then sat down heavily on a chair. She clutched her stomach and panted as another wave of pain went through her belly and her lower back. She could do this. If Joey could survive in Korea, she could give birth to their baby. Women did it every day, and her mother would be with her.
The war was officially over, but Joey’s infantry was completing their tour of duty. He wouldn’t see his first born until he or she was at least six months old. If that was their family’s biggest sacrifice for this war, it would be a small price to pay.
Max knocked and babbled something unintelligible. She grinned at his flustered appearance as he opened the door. “Mrs. Avery just took Leroy. Are you ready?”
“If you help me out of this chair,” she said with a grunt. “I’m feeling a bit like a stranded whale right now.”
Max rushed over, stubbed his toe on the bed post, and yipped in pain. He hopped up and down, rubbing his socked foot. “Dang it, I knew I forgot something. I’ll get my shoes and be right back.”
Eight hours later, Laura Beth held an exquisite little girl in her arms. Elizabeth Dixie McCall was a six-pound bundle of perfection. They had decided a girl would be named after Glenn’s mother. And with a little scheming (from the pastor of First Street Church, no less), her father was about to meet his first grandchild.
The pastor had suggested Shirley ride to the hospital with the McCalls, and then have her husband pick her up. He would have no choice but to see the baby.
“He has scars from being an orphan and doesn’t want Laura Beth or the baby to go through what he did,” the clergyman had reasoned. “I think he will realize, when he sees his grandchild, that they will both suffer from his continued obstinance. Love will bring him around.”
Max appeared at the door, peeking his head inside. “Can Grandpa come in?” He held his hat, pulling back and forth on the brim with both hands.
“Of course.” Laura rearranged the blanket, kissing the little chin. “Lizzie, say hello to Papa Max.”
“Why, she looks just like you. You did a real good job, sweetheart.” Max shuffled uncomfortably in the small room after handing back the baby. He hated hospitals after losing Dixie. “I’d better go pick up Leroy before he drives Mrs. Avery batty. I’ll bring him by tomorrow.”
He kissed her forehead, and as he closed the door, they could hear him mumbling to the ceiling.
“Is he still talking to his dead wife?” Shirley asked, concern in her eyes.
“Yes, but not in a crazy way. More like we would talk to a pet—or ourselves. Do you know he visits her every Sunday morning with a white rose? Says he has to fill her in on the weekly happenings.” She shook her head, a sad smile turning her lips. “I think it’s habit. He talked things over with her for so long, it gives him comfort. He loved that woman so much.”
“He’s a good man.” Dixie looked at her watch. “Your father will be here shortly. I’ll keep an eye out. When I see him coming, I’ll duck back in here, so he can’t collect me and run.”
“This sounds like some crazy movie scheme. But if it works…”
Laura had just finished feeding Lizzie when her mother strolled in. “He’s coming,” she whispered.
When she looked up to see her father in the doorway, tears burned her eyes. She had only seen him in passing—at a red light, leaving a store or his office—in months. He looked older, the lines in his face deeper. The irritation left his eyes when they landed on her and the baby. Instead, regret etched his face, making him seem so forlorn, standing there by himself.
“Hello, Daddy.” Her voice trembled.
He nodded his head and stepped into the room.
“Glenn, meet your granddaughter.” Shirley pulled on his arm until he was next to the bed. “And say hello to your daughter.”
“A little girl, huh?” His husky voice belied his tone. “What did you name her?”
“Elizabeth Dixie McCall.” Laura waited for his reaction. Her heart went out to him as emotions washed over his face.