Guarded

by Angela Correll

  “Even if they did know, they wouldn’t have been able to act on it,” Evelyn said. “Back then, no one around here was able to travel overseas like they do now. Even if they could have afforded it, they couldn’t have left the farm long enough.”

  “There was certainly no Skyping or e-mail,” Annie said. “Only letters and photographs.”

  “They may have written in English,” Evelyn said.

  “Either way, the communication we have stops here,” Annie said.

  “We’ll never know for sure, but whatever happened, they put it away in a secret place and went on with their lives as best they knew how,” Beulah said. “I guess that’s what we need to do now.”

  “Are you sure about that?” Annie asked. “I mean, with the Internet, we could probably track them down.”

  She caught her breath. “What if they don’t want to be found?” she asked.

  “They did reach out to your parents all those years ago,” Evelyn said. “The Caivanos may have gone to their graves believing Ephraim’s family wanted nothing to do with Elena or the child. Or they might have wondered if the letter ever reached them.”

  “But that would be the child’s grandparents. Even if they wanted to reach out, it doesn’t mean Elena or her son would want that,” Beulah said.

  “There’s a return address in Naples,” Annie said. “Why don’t we write back to the family, explaining what has happened? They don’t have to respond if they don’t want to,” she said. “This time, we’ll have Janice write it in Italian. After all, she’ll be here next week,” Annie said.

  “It was so long ago, the parents will be dead now,” Evelyn said. “It would be unlikely to reach the same family.”

  “Not always,” Annie said. “Look at us. If someone wrote the May family on Gibson’s Creek Road, it would end up in Grandma’s mailbox.”

  Evelyn laughed. “That’s true. It can happen.”

  “I would like to pray about all this before we decide anything,” Beulah said. “It’s a lot to take in and I need time.”

  “Good idea,” Evelyn said. “Let us know how we can help.”

  “It’s your decision, Grandma,” Annie said.

  Beulah looked at them both, feeling deep affection. “Thank you both for being here.”

  After Evelyn left, she boiled a big pot of greens with onions and ham hock. Then she made a macaroni and cheese casserole and sliced tomatoes from the garden. She whipped potatoes with butter and cream and then baked yeast rolls, and all the while she prayed.

  ***

  With a table laden with food, Evelyn and Jake joined her and Annie for dinner. It seemed there was an unspoken agreement to avoid the recent family revelation. Instead, Jake talked of trying to find more hay for the winter and Annie updated everyone on the progress of the old stone house. Evelyn talked of preparations for the upcoming wedding.

  It was a balm to end such a day. Exhaustion settled over her that was far beyond anything physical even though it carried with it a peace of sorts. That night, once she settled into bed, she opened the box and pulled out the last letter from Ephraim.

  Both anticipation and dread filled her, as she knew this was to be the last communication her parents had received from him.

  Naples, Italy

  January 21, 1944

  Dear Mother and Dad,

  We are moving out tomorrow for a mission we don’t yet know. It’s the way of being a soldier. You train and prepare and guess until the day arrives.

  There is a somber mood in camp tonight. We have been told to prepare ourselves for battle. The chaplains are here to make it easier for us. There is a church service after supper and I plan to go. I only tell you all this because by the time you get this letter, whatever is going to happen will have happened.

  After I found out we were leaving, I went to see the Caivanos to thank them for all their kindness toward me. Elena gave me a picture of herself and I am glad to have it. I left some money for Mr. Caivano to help offset all the many suppers they have shared with me. I plan to see them again when the war is over. I have fallen for Elena. She is different from any girl I have known. I ask you to keep her and her family in your prayers as well.

  I must tell you I have acquired a taste for red wine. Only a little, mother, should you think I have turned my back on your temperance ways. But when it is made from a man’s own grapes, well, it’s hard to see much difference between that and our own tobacco crop.

  If that were my only confession. This war has changed us all. We are not angels, any one of us. I only hope you can find it in your heart to forgive the things I have done. I have asked God for his forgiveness, but I can’t help wanting your forgiveness as well.

  I love you both very much and look forward to the day when I will be home and we will be together again. If something should happen, please know I have made my peace with God and trust his will to determine my days.

  Love,

  Ephraim

  She slipped the letter back into the V-mail envelope and placed it in the stack, next to the two letters found in the secret place. This time, nothing was hidden away. Each letter was part of the whole story.

  Chapter Seventeen

  ANNIE MET LINDY for breakfast at Bill’s Diner and shared the contents of the letter from Elena’s parents over a plate of eggs, bacon and his famous cathead biscuits.

  “You have relatives in Italy?” Lindy said in amazement.

  “Apparently,” Annie said. “If anyone is left. Elena’s child might have died before marrying, so it could have ended there. We’ve no idea.”

  “I could do some research,” Lindy offered.

  “Grandma’s not ready to go there yet,” she said. “She idolized her brother, and his death really marked their family. I want to give her as much time as she needs … How are you?” Annie asked.

  Lindy sighed. “Better. If I’d heard Rob was engaged a month ago, it wouldn’t have hit me this hard, but it was worse with recently seeing him. I still can’t wrap my head around how he treated me here when he was on the verge of getting engaged.”

  “Maybe it was a surprise to him as well,” Annie said, remembering her own awakening to Jake as more than a friend after coming home last summer.

  Lindy’s expression brightened. “Anyway, I did get a call from an old law school friend who invited me to Keeneland next Friday for lunch in the Clubhouse and then a day of horse racing. It’s something to look forward to.”

  “Find a nice outfit. Sometimes a girl simply needs a new dress,” Annie said.

  “I wish it were that simple,” Lindy said. “Listen, Annie,” and then stopped when the waitress brought their food and refilled the coffee.

  “I need to talk to you about my dad.”

  Annie added Tabasco sauce to her eggs. “Something wrong?”

  “Not exactly wrong,” she said. “He’s just acting weird. I’ve walked into his office a few times to find him staring into space. That’s not totally uncommon. In fact, when he’s on a big case he often spends a great deal of time thinking through strategy. We have some heavy stuff going on,” Lindy’s voice trailed off.

  “I’m doing that a lot these days, too,” Annie said.

  “It’s more than that. At home, I found the cereal box in the refrigerator last week. The week before I found the milk in the pantry. What if his mind is slipping, maybe it’s the early stages of something?”

  “He’s only in his fifties, right?”

  “Yeah, but I did a little research and it can happen early for some people,” Lindy said. “It’s not like him. I keep thinking of Bill’s wife, Viola, and all they have dealt with after she was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s. It would be devastating if something happened to Dad.”

  Annie remembered hearing about the illness of the diner owner’s wife when she returned to Somerville. She had grown close to Viola during her high school days working part-time as a waitress.

  As if on cue, Bill bounded over to their table, his white apron dirty wit
h grease and food stains. “How is it?” he asked, bushy eyebrows raised.

  “The best,” Annie said. “Jake says you’re getting the eggs from a local farm now.”

  “Happy chickens on pasture. Taste better, don’t they?”

  “How’s Viola?” Lindy asked.

  Bill wobbled the spatula in his hands.

  “Good days, bad days, and I never know which it will be.”

  “Early on, when she started showing signs, how did you know something was wrong?” Lindy asked.

  “I found cheese in a drawer and flour in the refrigerator. Then she couldn’t remember how to drive here from our house and we only live three blocks away. It went on from there,” Bill said, and heard his name called from the kitchen. “Gotta go,” he said.

  Lindy looked at Annie, her eyes wide.

  ***

  Annie knocked lightly on the cottage screen door, and then pushed it open. Jake was sitting on the couch, papers spread over the coffee table, and the phone to his ear.

  She sat down across from him and he looked up, the frown changing to a smile when he saw her.

  “How much do you want for it?” he asked. “Uh huh. How many do you have?” another pause. “I’d like to come down tomorrow and see it,” Jake said and began scribbling an address on one of the papers. “Whatever’s good for you,” he said. “That’s fine, thanks.”

  He put the phone on the coffee table and ran his hands through his hair, leaning back on the couch.

  She could see trouble spelled out on his face. “Bad news?” she asked.

  “Good news that I found hay, but the price is high due to last year’s dry season.” He leaned forward and rested his forearms on his legs. “But I don’t have a choice. I have to feed cows this winter.”

  “Will you always have to buy hay?”

  “No, but it will take me a year or two to get our pasture in shape for what we need. I may have to do some part-time bank consulting for a while, until I can get everything off the ground.”

  “Not exactly what you hoped,” she said.

  He nodded. “Well, there’s no doubt my dreams have adjusted to reality over the last few weeks.”

  “Jake, I had a funny conversation with Lindy this morning. She thinks something is wrong with her dad. Tom’s done a few weird things lately, like leaving the milk in the pantry and the cereal in the refrigerator.”

  “Just like Mom,” he said.

  “Right. Like Evelyn,” she smiled at him and waited.

  Jake frowned at her and then sat back on the couch. “Mom and Tom?”

  Annie nodded. “Crazy, huh?”

  “Are you sure?” he said.

  “No, but the signs are there,” she said.

  He started laughing. “Tom always asks me how she’s doing and what she’s been doing.”

  “How do you feel about it?”

  “If she’s happy, I’m happy. Tom is a great guy. Does Lindy know?”

  “I didn’t say anything since it doesn’t appear to be in the open yet. But I don’t want her to worry her dad is losing his mind.”

  “How about that,” Jake was grinning.

  Annie looked around the room at the cardboard boxes stacked on top of one another in the corners of the room and even pushed under the coffee table. One stack served as a table and held a lamp. “I can help you with these today if you like,” she offered.

  “Actually, Joe and I are headed out to Western Kentucky this afternoon to see a goat dairy that’s doing a good job with gourmet cheeses. We’ll come back tomorrow and pick up the hay on our way back into town. I’m sorry to miss the offer.”

  He looked around at the boxes.

  “Mom is on me to get it all put away. She’s worried I won’t get to it before we have Scott’s family stay here for the wedding.”

  “I love organizing. Why don’t I work on it while you’re gone?”

  “You really don’t mind?” Jake said. “There’s a bookshelf in my old room I’ve been meaning to bring out here. I’ll get it before I leave this afternoon and you can decide where to put it.”

  “Okay, so I’ll see you tomorrow,” Annie turned to go but Jake gently held her arm.

  “Surely I get a better goodbye,” he said, drawing her into a hug. Annie melted into the safety of his arms and wanted more than ever to tell him what was breaking her heart.

  “Jake,” she started.

  “Yeah,” he said, kissing her head and then her cheek before reaching her lips.

  “Nothing,” she whispered.

  ***

  Later, Annie had barely settled down to do more reading when Janice called again.

  “How’s it going?” Janice asked. “I can’t stop thinking about your grandmother. I couldn’t even sleep last night.”

  “Hold on,” she said, and crept up the stairs, out of earshot from her grandmother who was in the kitchen. “It was a shock,” she said. “The only other time I’ve seen her like that was when my grandfather died. She seems better today, but we haven’t talked about it.”

  “Have you started Googling the family in Italy yet?” Janice asked.

  “No, she’s not ready. I mean, what if she finds out they are all gone? To find out you have a piece of your brother alive and then to lose it all over again … it’d be so hard on her.”

  “Is she not ready—or is it you?” Janice said.

  Annie was pushing her bedroom door shut when she stopped cold.

  “What do you mean?”

  “You’re the one who always avoids any kind of emotional risk. I mean, it’s fine if your grandmother is not ready, but be sure you’re not projecting your own fears onto her.”

  “When did you get your psychology degree?” Annie asked.

  “When I became your best friend, for Pete’s sake. Don’t get mad, but we both know you tend to shut down when it gets a little risky.”

  Annie took a deep breath and exhaled.

  “Janice, this isn’t about me, honestly.”

  “All right, all right. Look, I’ve been Googling, pages and pages. I can’t find an Elena Caivano anywhere. There are lots of Caivanos, and they’re all over Italy, mostly in the south. When I type up the address in Naples, nothing comes up.”

  “Too bad. Where do we go from here?” Annie asked, sitting down on her bed.

  “Italy,” Janice said.

  Chapter Eighteen

  BEULAH FINISHED SEWING the last tablecloth and folded it neatly, then placed it in a box with the others. She would ask Annie to carry it over to Evelyn’s as soon as she had a chance. The rhythmic work and hum of the machine gave her uninterrupted time to think; she hadn’t even answered the phone when she heard it ringing.

  The question of whether they should find any remaining family members weighed on her. Some things were better left alone. If my parents were alive today, what would they want to do? Even more important, what would Ephraim want?

  As the only family member left from that small nucleus, Beulah was the self-appointed guardian of her brother’s memory. What Ephraim might have wanted was more important than even her parents. It was Ephraim’s situation after all. She gathered stray pieces of thread and then folded the green Singer sewing machine down until it looked like any other end table.

  Now she would do the thing she had looked forward to all day as she sat and sewed. Once outside and into her Mercury Marquis, she headed down the driveway and turned left onto May Hollow Road, then took another left onto Gibson’s Creek Road. She passed the driveway to the old stone house, down to the entrance of the May Family Cemetery and slowly up the gravel road to the top of a wooded hill. There was the cemetery, surrounded by the old limestone fence and the creaky iron gate.

  Inside, the area was neatly trimmed. Joe had taken it on when he agreed to mow her yard as part of the bargain of leasing her farm for his cattle. The older limestone markers in back were cocked slightly to the left or right as the ground had settled over the many years. The newer ones in front were made of gran
ite and stood straight and even.

  Facing her first was dear Jo Anne’s grave, Annie’s mother, who died when she was only thirty-two. Then there was little Jacob, who was just an infant, Beulah’s only son. There was the newest grave, the one belonging to Fred, and next to it, the empty spot where Beulah would be laid with her family.

  Beulah’s parents, Lilah and William May, were buried in the second row next to their son and her brother, Ephraim. She stood over Ephraim’s grave and read again the words on his military footstone: Ephraim May, PVT US Army, World War II, December 14, 1923 - February 1, 1944.

  Shafts of sunlight filtered through the maple leaves hanging low over the stones giving the grass below a watery illusion. On the wrought iron bench near a walnut tree, Beulah stretched her legs in front of her, and asked God to give her wisdom in making a decision.

  The child was Ephraim’s responsibility, but with his death, it fell to their parents. What they discussed or even decided to do, she would never know. There was only so much country people could do in 1946. Whatever had happened—or had not—went to the grave with her parents.

  Nowadays, the world was smaller, and they might be able to find some answers after all these years. What would Ephraim want her to do?

  Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. The verse came to her out of the blue, as Bible passages so often did. The truth was, she was never meant to carry the burden. None are perfect; else we wouldn’t need the grace of God. But maybe she had thought Ephraim was perfect, and in the process, she had placed a yoke on her brother he was never meant to carry either.

  With renewed purpose and a lighter spirit, Beulah parked the car and went in the back door, where there was no black snake in sight. She hesitated in the kitchen, but there was no need to cook tonight with so many leftovers in the refrigerator.

  Annie came down the steps and met her there.

  “Where did you go?” Annie asked.

  “Up to the cemetery. I needed to sort some things out,” Beulah said, pulling a pitcher of iced tea from the refrigerator. “Are you going out with Jake tonight?”