Soldier's Homecoming (9781460341308)

by Glaz, Linda S.

  “What does any of this business have to do with wiring money for you?”

  Joe could practically see him sweating on the other end, and for some reason, he didn’t believe Flannigan could be such a rotten egg. Though he hadn’t given Joe the loan, he didn’t seem to take any pleasure in denying him. Why was he acting like this with Art?

  “You will wire the money, sir. It is my money, not yours.”

  Flannigan conceded defeat and promised the money would be wired immediately. It was a sizable amount and Joe surmised Flannigan didn’t want it going to another bank. Or was there more to it than that?

  “Mr. Flannigan, as I said before, Mr. Wysse and I parted on good terms. He even included a bonus in my final check, not that it’s any of your business, but that’s what lets me know he had no hard feelings.”

  Finally Flannigan murmured, “I may have heard from my nephew that you had left the company stranded. Left them without…I shouldn’t say anymore. Joseph, I’ll check into the matter. I promise. And I have Charlotte wiring the money.”

  “I appreciate it, sir. I hope you’ll contact Mr. Banks.”

  Mapes rounded the corner shortly after he finished the call. “The money is being transferred immediately to the First United Bank on Albany. I have a number here that the banker said you would no doubt want as confirmation.”

  The woman stared at it momentarily and then smiled the first actual smile Joe had seen her make since his arrival. Money did amazing things to some folks. Apparently helped her find her smile. Between her and Flannigan…

  If he lived to be a hundred he’d never understand people and money.

  “Oh, and I owe you for the call to the bank. Don’t want you to think I cheated you.” With that, he flipped her a quarter. Her face turned the rosiest red he’d ever seen.

  *

  Victoria took a deep breath and did her best to feel awake. Her eyes, heavy as bricks, drooped, trying to pull her back to sleep. “No. I have to talk with Dad and Mom. Surely they’ll let me call.” She rubbed her eyes and struggled to wake up. Dark outside. How long had she slept?

  She smacked lips that felt drier than cotton. Maybe a drink of water would help. She reached for the glass at the side of her bed and greedily gulped the water. Then she swiveled her legs over the edge.

  Nurse Malcome walked past the door. “Oh, no, you don’t, young lady. Miss Banks, you must stay in bed.”

  “But I have to call my parents. They have to know about the surgery in the morning.”

  Malcome hesitated. “I forgot. Your mother broke her leg, didn’t she?”

  “A bad break, according to Dad.”

  “I could call for you. Would that be all right?”

  “Oh, please. I’d be grateful. And could you find out how my mother’s doing?” With that, she fell back onto the bed. As she lay there, strange thoughts darted through her mind. Joe was part of them. He had held her hand and kissed her fingers. Strange. It all seemed so real. Not like a dream at all, but it had to be. She’d been sleeping all afternoon. Perhaps the medication they’d given her to sleep had caused her to hallucinate. Some medicines did that, right?

  It would be nice if it had been Joe, though. She imagined his lips touching her hands, her face… Nonsense. After the way she’d pushed him away, she couldn’t expect as much as a kind word. Still, if wishes were real, he’d be sitting right next to her, telling her he loved her more than anything else. And she would do the same. She ran her fingers over her lips. “I love you more than I can say, Joe.”

  He wouldn’t hear her. He’d apparently gone for the day. And who could blame him? Why should he sit with her in the hospital when she didn’t have a kind word to say? Even as he’d stepped closer and closer to her at the window. Her heart fluttered a second, and she knew with certainty it had nothing to do with being ill. It had all to do with being very much alive. Fluttering because of how she felt for him. “Oh, Joe. What a mess I’ve made of things, but I love you enough that I don’t want to stick you with a sickly woman for the rest of your life.”

  She crawled under the sheet and drew the blanket up and over her shoulder. Tomorrow morning would come early and she needed the rest.

  Malcome poked her head in. “You still awake?”

  “Yes, what did Dad say?”

  “Your mother’s fine. He said not to worry, but to take care of yourself. Now, let’s discuss what’s going to happen tomorrow. There are a few things you need to know.”

  *

  Joe waited outside Victoria’s ten-by-ten sterile room and didn’t feel the least bit sorry about eavesdropping. He wanted all the details of what would happen to her in the morning, but he figured she wouldn’t tell him, if she talked to him at all. This on-again, off-again emotional ride had left him upset enough that here he was, listening in on a conversation.

  “I see you out there, Mr. Huntington. You can come in now if you like. I did give Miss Banks another sedative, but she’ll be awake for a while yet. Then in a couple of hours, she’ll get more. Helps her to relax, don’t you know.” She walked out the door and laid a hand on his arm. “Don’t stay too long. She needs her sleep. Tomorrow’s a big day for her.”

  He strolled into the room doing his best to appear nonchalant and not as red-faced as he felt for being caught outside the door.

  “I thought you’d left for the day.” Victoria looked so small and fragile, far from her true self. Her frailty wriggled under his skin and he had to look away momentarily.

  He nodded toward the window. “Hey, want me to close the curtains? Sort of cold in here.”

  “Thank you.”

  He crossed the room and stopped for a second. “Victoria, listen—”

  “Joe, don’t say a word. Let me apologize first. I’m so very sorry.”

  “For what?”

  “For what? For the terrible way I’ve treated you since I found out I was ill. For being rude on the train, for acting like a spoiled little girl. If I made a list it would be too long to fit on the stand.”

  “Why? Why did you do that? I don’t understand.”

  She sucked in her lip and reached over, patted the arm of the chair next to her. “I felt as if we were headed past the point of friendship. Was I wrong?”

  “Not really.”

  “You see?”

  “See what? A beautiful woman I care about very much?”

  “Joe, it’s possible that I could be sitting in a wheelchair the rest of my life, or maybe worse. I didn’t want you to be saddled with a broken-down nag or mourning for someone who had become more than a friend. I wanted…I’m not sure what all I wanted, but what I didn’t want was for you to be stuck. Maybe harnessed to a woman who wouldn’t be able to…” Her face flashed like a red warning light. “Have a family. And I know you want a family. You’ve said so. Am I right?”

  He closed the curtain and slid into the chair beside her. “I do want a family. I’d love to have a family, but more than that, I love you, Victoria. I love the way you smile, the way you’re full of sass. I like that you don’t feel stuck to the image of an everyday woman of the forties. You’re independent and dare to be different. I loved that when we played ball as kids. You weren’t coy about who you were.”

  “You what?” Her face brightened and he almost laughed out loud.

  “I loved that you wanted to be a professional ballplayer. That took courage in a game of mostly boys. One girl playing ball with us boys, two if you count Agatha, but I don’t think a two-hundred-pound junior high girl with the build of a linebacker counts.” He smiled. “And that type of courage made me want to be around you more. Didn’t you notice the guy with the shiner following you at every possible opportunity?”

  “I didn’t think you even noticed me unless you had to. Unless Miss Davies forced you to hold me and waltz.”

  “I would have paid her to let me hold you. And waltz.” He chuckled. “But thankfully, I didn’t have to. I guess you don’t remember me hiding in the bushes outside school to
try and walk you home when you were ten.”

  “You did what?”

  “I thought you might let me carry your books. I hid out three weeks in a row but didn’t get up enough gumption to step out and ask if you’d let me.”

  Victoria’s bottom lip disappeared between her teeth and she smiled. “I wish I’d known. I might have treated you differently.”

  Joe chuckled. “I seriously doubt that. You were only concerned with proving yourself to every boy on the team. And the other teams, as well. No one wanted to bat against you. That arm was legendary in Howell. At least on Walnut Street.”

  “Well, where does that leave us now? I’m going to allow some doctor I’ve only met twice to chop a big hole in my chest and do heaven only knows what to try and fix a problem I’ve apparently had since I was born. I won’t be…I won’t be whole anymore, Joe. I’ll have a huge scar, according to the nurse.” Her hand ran down the front of her body. “From here to there and back again. Something he wanted her to be sure to tell me. She admitted it won’t be pretty. I’ll look like an old broken plate that a kid tried to glue together.”

  His heart did flips like a jumping Jack. How could he explain that didn’t mean anything to him? A scar? So what? “Victoria, I like old plates. My mother had a favorite plate that I hit with a baseball when I was little and—”

  “Be serious.” She swatted his hand. “It might mean that I’ll be…” Her hands covered her face and she started to cry. “Oh, Joe. So many things could go wrong. I don’t want you falling in love with me and then—”

  “I already have.” He reached for her chin and ran his thumb along her jaw, as deliberately as he could. Not wanting to break the contact for a second, he continued to caress her face. “I love you, Victoria, and whatever happens, I’ll be here. I’ll always be here right beside you.” He leaned as close as the chair would allow.

  Her eyes drooped a bit as she yawned. “But my aunt…and uncle.” The medication had finally taken effect.

  “Your aunt and uncle? What about them and what do they have to do with us?”

  “My uncle…took care of her. And chicken for supper.”

  She yawned wide again, and he pulled his hand away.

  “Chicken?” Joe chuckled. “Fried or dumplings?”

  “Oh…dumplings. Love Auntie’s…dumplings.”

  Joe smiled. “How about me?”

  “You, too. Auntie made the best…oatmeal…raisin, light and fluffy.” And with that, she finally dozed off.

  Joe had hope, real hope. And he thought he understood why she’d shut him out for so long. He lifted her hand, kissed her fingers for the second time that day and then put her hands under the blanket. It was obvious she hadn’t heard a word he said earlier, but it didn’t matter now. He’d have all the time in the world to tell her how much he loved her. Adored her. Worshipped the ground she walked on. Over and over again.

  Scar or no scar. Did she really think that would matter to him?

  With a quick glance around to be sure no one watched, he leaned in and dropped a kiss on her forehead, then her nose and finally on her mouth. So sweet.

  Victoria raised an eyelid and smiled. “Love dumplings.”

  Chapter 13

  Art choked on his words as Joe gave him the information on the surgery. “I can’t believe what she’ll have to—” Joe heard Art clearing his throat. “Do you think I should head out? I mean, I’ll have someone come in and stay with Mother overnight. Although I’m pretty sure she’d be mad as a wet hen for leaving her behind, and she’s in no condition to make the trip.”

  “I don’t know what you can do if you come, Art.”

  “Just feels wrong, her being there and us being here. I don’t know what I’d do if—”

  “You can do plenty. You and the missus can pray. I’m here. There’s not a lot left to do. They said she’d be drugged very heavily for some time after. I doubt she’ll even realize I’m still here.”

  “Well, if…if you think so.” Art coughed and Joe understood the emotions behind it. Both of her parents wanted to be with her. Joe heard Art sniffle, then cough again. “And one other thing, Joseph. I received a call from a Mrs. Maples today. Very early today.”

  “Mapes?”

  “All right, Mapes. How is it you didn’t mention her when you called this morning?”

  “What…uh. What did she say?”

  “She told me about the first amount you paid and then she said something about money you had wired to the bank in Boston. Did I hear her correctly?”

  “Art, you just lost the restaurant contract. I thought—”

  “So we’re going to have the newcomer thinking over the old boss’s head? Joseph, we’ll discuss this when you return home. Stop worrying about this old man, will you? I’ve made it this far in business. I can survive a little longer. You won’t be taking over my financial responsibilities. Not at work, not in my home. Let this be the last said about it.”

  “Yessir.”

  “And by the way. I have it on good authority that Wallace Wysse Jr. is in over his head. Apparently he’s been making deals with his father’s business that aren’t all that ethical and the old man didn’t like it much when he found out. More than one man in town has complained. I’m thinking the restaurant fiasco is his doing.”

  “You don’t say.”

  “I do. You wouldn’t know anything about that, now, would you?”

  “Gotta go, Art. This is costing a lot of money.”

  “One last thing. A favor?”

  “What would that be, Art?”

  “If you could give that girl of ours a big hug, we’d appreciate it. If you think she wouldn’t mind.”

  “I don’t think she’d mind one bit.”

  “That’s mighty good to hear, son.”

  *

  Joe left the second floor after thanking the nurses for use of the phone again. They had been so agreeable Joe decided he’d get a bouquet of flowers for them before he took Victoria home.

  He wandered through the hospital, praying as he went, but it didn’t do the trick. He longed for some peace and quiet to pray. Maybe at the visitors’ station they’d be able to tell him where the nearest church was.

  “Of course, young fella.” An older woman, smiling as though she’d done this job for years and loved helping others, pointed out the door. He followed the line of the thick, arthritic finger and listened to her directions to St. John’s. “You go on down. They’re happy to have visitors. Or you can pray in our little chapel in the back. Not much, but better than nothing.”

  “Thanks so much for the help. I think I’ll visit the church.”

  *

  He grabbed a bite and then made his way to the old church at the corner. Stained glass and stone. What looked like a hand-carved wooden door at the front. Appeared as if it had been here long before most of the homes and way before any of the businesses surrounding it.

  Joe tried the door. Open…and welcoming. And warm inside as if services were soon expected. It surprised him, but he didn’t waste time. He strolled in and took a seat.

  “Lord, I’m not exactly sure what to pray, so I’m just going to sit here a bit, and try to feel Your presence. Seems as if I’ve been away for a while. So much has happened since I came back from the war, and I think I’ve pushed prayer down my list of things to do. I want more than that from You and for You in my life. But at the moment, I only want to pray for Victoria, not me. She needs a special blessing in the morning, Lord. Please guide the doctor’s hands. Keep her safe. Heal her quickly.”

  “He hears you, son.”

  Joe, startled and a bit embarrassed for praying aloud, looked up. In a robe and with hair far too long for a modern man, a short wizened fellow held out a hand. “Pastor Roberts, son. And you?”

  “Joseph Huntington. From Howell, Michigan, Pastor. I didn’t mean to jump, but you were so quiet when you entered.”

  “I was here. In the front. Praying. Didn’t mean to startle you. What brin
gs you here, Joseph? Good name, by the way.”

  Joe smiled. “A friend is undergoing surgery tomorrow morning. Dr. Gross is actually fixing her heart. I didn’t even know doctors could do that.”

  The pastor tugged at his chin. “Good man.”

  “You know him?”

  “We met at a fundraiser for the children’s hospital one year. Fine fellow. Tell me, is your friend smaller than a bread box?”

  “Oddly enough, she’d not a child. From what I understand, this isn’t common in adults. They usually find it in children. Babies mostly. I don’t know how she lived so long with this condition without anyone finding out about it.”

  “She a quiet, unassuming young lady?”

  Unable to stop himself, Joe burst out laughing. “Anything but! She is feisty, tough, gutsy, independent, sometimes downright impossible.”

  “And?” The pastor’s eyebrows rose in a playful manner.

  “Beautiful…and just plain wonderful.”

  “So you love her?” His face hinted that he understood.

  Joe let out a loud sigh. “All I wanted when I came back from the war was to start my own business.”

  “Doing what?”

  “Building houses, nice little bungalows for men returning home to start families. I wanted them to have a chance at the dream America gives its people. You know, a chance to make it, have it all if that’s possible.”

  “That’s a wonderful dream of yours. What happened to it?”

  “Oh, I had a little saved to start with but not enough, and the bank didn’t think I was a ‘proven’ commodity. No loan.”

  “How did the girl figure in?”

  “She didn’t. Not at all. A woman wasn’t in the plans. All I wanted was the business.”

  With discernment the pastor chuckled this time. “Women don’t usually figure into a man’s plans until it’s too late for him. So you love this girl. Sort of a surprise to you?”

  Joe figured he was completely wearing his heart on his sleeve. “Yes, I’m afraid it was. Well, not really. We’ve known each other since we were kids. And now she’s adamant about my not being hitched to an old nag who’s falling apart. I don’t feel that way at all. But unless she comes through this operation completely healthy, I doubt she’ll have anything to do with me.”