by Ciara Knight
Each night he spent dreaming and longing to be next to her again, and each morning he woke to dress and hurry down to see them and play with Beth as Shirley worked. On the afternoon of the third day, he knew he wanted to do something special, so he went to Mr. Bessler’s store, where he found him working on carving a horse. “Good afternoon.”
“Hello. How’re you today, Wayne?” Victor abandoned his work and greeted him at the door.
“I’m well. Actually, I think it’s going to be an amazing day today.”
“I see. Would Shirley have anything to do with that?”
Wayne smiled, a smile he felt all the way to his soul. “That’s why I stopped in to visit with you. I’d like to ask your permission to take Shirley to the soda fountain tonight.”
Rosie bolted out of the back room. “I’ll keep Beth while you two go out. Yes, of course. Go.”
“I think my wife approves.” Victor laughed and kissed Rosie on the forehead. “My wife suffers from wanting everyone around her to be as happy as we are.”
Wayne didn’t want to mention the uncle’s arrival, but he wanted to make sure they understood that he’d be here tomorrow based on the second strange phone call he’d received from Davey’s uncle telling him that he was delayed in transit. Still, he didn’t even know the man’s name, but he had the impression that he was only coming to handle business. Hopefully that meant he would see Davey and that would be the end of the conversation. “Tomorrow, I’ll make sure I’m at the house too. I still believe the man is going to stop in, look around, and approve in a matter of minutes. Then Davey will be all yours.”
Rosie flung herself at Wayne. “Thank you so much.” She hugged him tight and then backed away with a blush on her cheeks. “Sorry. I just can’t thank you enough for all you’ve done for us.”
“It isn’t over yet, but I know that Davey belongs with you both and that the moment his uncle sees you together, he’ll know it, too.”
“Go, ask Shirley if she’d like to go out with you tonight. Tell her that I insist on keeping Beth and that I look forward to it.”
Wayne hesitated at the door. “Are you sure?” He looked to her belly.
Rosie rubbed her tiny bump. “I’m sure. I feel great. The morning sickness is fading, so I have more energy now.”
“Thank you. I’ll head to ask Shirley, then.”
Wayne placed his hat on his head and walked to the Bessler house. He’d never been so nervous to ask a lady out before. Not that he’d asked many of them out. He’d seen a few overseas, but they were only looking for company to escape the war temporarily. This time, this date, meant something.
When Shirley opened the door, she lit up like the north star. “Come in. I’m just working on cleaning up the kids’ room.”
He removed his hat but remained outside on the front porch, wanting to make this a proper invitation. “I stopped by to ask you something.”
“Yes?” She crossed her arms over her chest and shivered.
He wanted to warm her and protect her, but he refrained. “I would like to ask if you’d do me the honor of going to the soda fountain with me tonight.”
She glanced over her shoulder at Beth.
“Rosie wanted me to tell you that she would love to watch Beth and that you should take the night off.” He added the last part but knew Rosie would agree.
“I’d love to.” She shivered again, so he backed down the steps, tripping over his own feet. “I’ll pick you up at seven. That way you can finish dinner and then go out for a treat with me.”
“Perfect.” Shirley stepped forward. “Of course, you’re welcome to come for dinner.”
“Not tonight. Tonight I’m taking you out on our first official date.” He put his hat back on his head. “Now, get back inside before you catch a chill and can’t go out tonight.”
He returned to Mrs. Slaughter’s place and found her resting on the couch. “How’s your foot?”
“I’m afraid it’s not improving.” She held her needles but didn’t knit. That’s when he noticed her swollen knuckles. “The doctor’s urging me to sell this place and to rest more. He says it isn’t gout. It’s an arthritic condition that has become chronic because I won’t rest enough.”
Wayne wanted to fix her, but he couldn’t. “I’m so sorry.”
“No reason to dwell. I wrote to my daughter in Ohio, and she said I can come stay with them.” She tilted her head toward the side table. “Letter for you from Detroit.”
“Thanks.” Wayne retrieved the letter. “Tonight, I thought I’d make us something simple for dinner, and then if you’re feeling all right, I have some plans.”
“Finally get up the courage to ask Shirley out, have you?”
He opened the letter and attempted to act calm. “Yes, I’m taking her to the soda fountain while Rosie watches Beth. I figured I would tell you since the town would alert you before I even sat down at a table with her.”
“You’re probably right. The telephone makes the news travel even faster, especially on those party lines. I don’t even need to call half the time. I just pick up the receiver and someone’s there.”
He chuckled at the realization that the phone had not only connected people from far off places but also neighbors.
The script in the letter he recognized as Helen’s.
“Important?”
He skimmed the letter. “Yes. Helen and the kids said they’d love to come stay here.” He sighed. “I guess I need to look for a place quicker now.”
“I know one for sale.” She winked.
Wayne looked around at the large old house. “I’m afraid I don’t think I can afford it. Especially when I don’t turn in the story and I lose my job at the paper. Come February 14th, I’ll be looking for new employment.
“I thought Vic and Rosie gave their blessing.”
He sighed. “They did, but the article I sent didn’t go deep enough. The paper wants a little dirt with their happily ever after story. I can’t do that to them.”
“I’m sure you’ll find something here.”
He shrugged.
“Speaking of February 14th, I know what your next date should be with Shirley.” Mrs. Slaughter pulled a flier out of the side table drawer. “My husband and I used to attend this each year until he left for war.” Sadness breeched her normal sweet expression. “Everyone from town will be there, so it would be a great way for you to control the narrative of your own story with Shirley.”
“You make it sound like big news.”
“Honey, in a small town, everything’s big news.”
He laughed. “I see your point.”
The house was charming and well maintained, but there would be no way he could afford it, even if he landed another job today. “Can you do me a favor?”
“Of course.”
“Since I can’t afford this home, could you let me know if something more modest becomes available? I need to figure this out before Helen arrives.” Wayne tried not to let the concern for his responsibility to his brother cloud his joy at his first date with Shirley.
“Don’t worry, we’ll figure something out. God always has a plan for us. We just need to let it happen.”
Wayne spent the afternoon working on odd jobs around the house to help Mrs. Slaughter, despite her complaining that he was a guest. A fact he no longer felt was accurate. He’d become closer to her and felt like she was extended family. After he fixed some simple stew with specific instructions and guidance from her, he cleaned up and dressed for his date.
“You look dashing this evening,” Mrs. Slaughter said when he reached the bottom of the stairs.
He straightened his tie and adjusted his suspenders, unable to stop moving with the herd of buzzing bugs flittering around in his gut. “Okay, I guess I should head down the street before I decide this was a mistake.”
“Why would you ever do that?”
“Because I’m not the family kind of guy, remember? I’d never want to hurt Shirley and Beth.”
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“Then don’t,” she announced, as if it were that easy. “Listen, you might have been a drifter before, but you’re a Sugar Mapleonian now. Face it, you’re stuck with us.” She waved him out the door, so he put on his coat and hat and walked up the street.
A flurry of snow fell around him, but he didn’t care. All he cared about was seeing Shirley again. Despite his excitement, there was a little sprig of doubt growing with each step he took. At the front porch, he adjusted his coat and tie once more before he knocked.
And when Shirley opened the door with her hair perfect, makeup perfect, everything about her perfect…all the doubt floated away.
Chapter Nineteen
Wayne stood like a light in the night. Shirley turned to see her daughter one last time, blew her a kiss, and walked out of the home and into a new world of possibilities. She’d promised herself that tomorrow she’d try to tell him the truth, but tonight would be magic.
They walked down the street into town. He held her hand, and even through the mittens there was a connection like she’d never experienced before. The night she’d spent with Harry after months of courting had left her empty inside. Not tonight. With only Wayne walking by her side, she felt full and excited.
“After you.” He opened the door to the soda shop and then took her coat, pulled out her chair, and settled in across from her. Of all the men who took her out in the city attempting to win her affection before the war, their courtesies had always been rehearsed and mechanical. Not Wayne. He looked at her making her feel like she were the only person in the room, no, in his life.
“How was your day?” she asked.
Wayne took her hand from across the table. “Good because I knew I’d be seeing you later.”
People watched his every move as if they’d never seen a more famous couple in town. “I’ve been looking forward to tonight all day. Despite all the time we’ve spent together, I’m still nervous.”
“If I’m being honest, so am I.” Wayne eyed the menu board written in white swirly letters. “What would you like?”
Shirley browsed the menu, but there were so many choices. “How about you choose and we’ll split it.”
He raised a finger into the air, and the waitress raced over. “What can I get for you?”
“One root beer float. Two straws.” He smiled like a man who’d won a war.
“You got it.” The waitress scurried away, and they were left alone at their table, excluding the prying eyes.
“I received a letter from Helen. She and the children are going to come to Sugar Maple.”
“That’s great news, right?” Shirley noticed a slight downturn to his mouth that she’d learned meant he was worried.
“Yes, except I don’t know where we’re going to live.” Wayne ran his thumb back and forth across her bare knuckles, distracting her. “Mrs. Slaughter says she’s going to have to sell her place. I’d love to buy it, but it’ll be out of my reach I’m afraid.”
“It’s a large house. There are smaller ones that are more reasonable in the area. I’d be happy to help you look.” She liked the idea of looking at homes with Wayne. She’d only lived in the mansion while growing up and then in those awful homes with Beth. The Besslers’ house was the first normal home she’d ever lived in, and she looked forward to having her own someday. For now, though, it would be fun to see what was available out there.
“I’d like that. You know, I’m not a well-to-do man. As a matter of fact, I won’t even have a job soon. When I don’t turn in the article that my editor wants for the Valentines edition, I won’t have a job at all.”
Shirley sat tall. “Don’t worry. Everything will work out. It has a way of doing so.”
“You believe that?” Wayne asked, and for a moment she had to think about it.
“I do.” She laughed. “I didn’t for a long time, probably all my life until I came to Sugar Maple. Now I believe everything works out if you have a little faith. That’s what Rosie says anyway.”
Their root beer float arrived, and they drank forehead-to-forehead, eye-to-eye, nose-to-nose. She never wanted the drink to end, but it did. “Would you like to take a walk?” she asked.
“It’s cold outside,” he reminded her.
She looked at her fingers. “I guess you’ll have to keep me warm, then.”
Wayne was out of his chair with her coat in hand before she knew what happened. “It would be my pleasure.”
After he paid, they meandered through the town square, shoulder pressed to shoulder with hand in hand. The snow came down a little harder, but not so much they were forced to flee their beautiful stroll through the town square. “Look, up in the sky.”
She followed where his finger pointed and caught the tail end of a shooting star. “Quick, make a wish.”
He turned her in his arms and held her close to him. “I don’t have to. It’s already come true.” His mittened fingers grazed her lips, cheek, and stalled at the back of her neck. His gaze locked with hers as if asking permission to kiss her.
The small streetlight at the corner cast a glow over his face, and all she could do was offer a small nod, but it was enough.
He kissed her.
Not a kiss to say good night. Not a tentative kiss. Not a sweet kiss. A kiss that left her body warm, her toes curled, and her imagination wild with thoughts of a life with a real man who’d never run off on her, leaving her to care for herself and her child. Wayne was a man who showed up and made a difference.
When he released her, they both panted with puffs of white air filling the small space between them. She shook, but less from the cold and more from the passion.
“I’ll escort you home, but before I do, may I ask if you’d attend the Valentine’s dance with me next week? Mrs. Slaughter offered to watch the children that night so Rosie and Victor could go, too.”
“A double date?” she asked.
“Yes, if you’d like.” He caressed her cheek. “And I hope you do.”
“I do. I’m just sorry it’s a week away.” She took his hand, and they walked home with the beautiful white snow starting to stick to the grass and roofs. “I hope the weather doesn’t delay Davey’s uncle. I know Rosie will relax once this matter is behind her. If there was anything I could do to help them, I would.”
“I know you would. You’re an amazing woman, Shirley Stephens.”
She froze mid-step headed up the front walk of the house.
Wayne was by her side. “What is it?”
Shirley closed her eyes. “If I tell you something, no matter how much you hate me when I’m done, will you vow to keep my secret?”
Wayne put his hands on her waist as if to hold her up, which he would have to do when she started talking. “I told you that you don’t have to tell me.”
“I know, and tonight I won’t. Because this one evening I want to treasure as the most perfect of my life.”
Wayne kissed her cheek and whispered in her ear. “You can trust me. And I’ll never hate you.”
Shirley hugged him tightly. She only hoped once he heard it from her, he’d be able to understand why she lied and forgive her. “Tomorrow, then. Come over after the children leave for school.”
The front door flew open, and Victor cleared his throat. “Shirley, I think you better come inside.”
She blinked at him but slid from Wayne’s embrace and entered the house. On the couch sat Harry. Her insides turned inside out, her head spun, and she fell back into Wayne, who was there to catch her.
Harry strutted over to offer his hand to Wayne. “I’m Harry Wilson, Shirley’s husband.”
Chapter Twenty
There were no words to describe the pain in Wayne’s chest. He tugged at his tie, attempting to breathe, despite the words from the stranger that Shirley was married. A stranger with a familiar voice. The voice from the phone call with Davey’s so-called uncle.
A sting worse than a bullet pierced his gut. Heat exploded like a grenade searing his skin. “What? No.
” He looked to Shirley. “She’s not married.”
“She is. I’ve returned from war.” He looked down at Shirley and leaned in, kissing her cheek. She winced and took a step away. That wasn’t a woman in love.
This didn’t make sense. “You were pronounced dead,” Wayne announced, as if the man in front of him wasn’t aware he’d died in battle.
“Is that what she told you?” The man grabbed hold of Shirley’s arm tighter than he should. “Well, I’ve returned now.”
Wayne took a step forward, ready to free her from this man’s hold on her, but Victor moved in before he could and Harry released her.
“But Davey’s uncle. You were the one on the phone. Why would you lead me to believe you were him?” Wayne looked to Victor, to Rosie, to Shirley, to anyone who might give him some sort of information.
“Yes, well. I spoke with his uncle and assured him that I would let him know how Davey faired. I’m here on his behalf.” I’ll take care of that when I return to New York with Shirley.
“How do you know him?” Wayne asked, feeling there was more to this story than the man shared.
“He’s a rich but old man. Since I am of his same social standing, we know some of the same people. When I saw the picture in the newspaper, I knew I’d found my wife and child.”
Davey stepped forward. “What’s my uncle’s name?”
“Charles.”
“Charles what?” Wayne asked.
“Stetson.”
Wayne fisted his hands. “If you’re her husband, why’s your last name different?”
Harry shrugged. “Good question, since I’d like to know, too. I mean, Stephens isn’t even her maiden name. Malone is.”
“As in the Malone family?” Wayne cleared his throat. This was all too insane to comprehend.
“That’s the one.” Harry lifted his chin. “And now that I’ve found my wife and child, we’ll be leaving together.” He looked to Beth but didn’t even sound like he had an ounce of desire to see his daughter. “Come, child. Say hello to your daddy.”