Beyond the Shadow of War (20 page)

21

“You’re kidding, right?”

Danny felt the heat creeping up his neck as the porch swing moved slowly back and forth. “I know, I know. I’m an idiot. But I just couldn’t say no to her, Joey. She seemed so, I don’t know, needy? Or something. And she was never like that before. Never.”

Joey’s rocker creaked with each movement as he chewed on a toothpick and studied his younger brother. The scrutiny caused Danny to look away, turning his gaze across the front lawn.

“Back up. Tell me again why you agreed to meet Beverly for coffee.”

“Look, it’s no big deal. Maybe I felt like I owed it to her since she lost her husband in the war. Or maybe I’m just curious what she needs to tell me. I don’t know. I just felt like I couldn’t say no.”

“Wasn’t this the same girl who broke your heart a few years back?”

“Of course it is. And if anyone has something that needs to be said, it ought to be me. I’m the one who got dumped.”

Joey kept rocking, his eyes glued on Danny. “I guess it’s none of my business, but if you think you have to meet her, then make sure it’s the
last
time you meet her. Got it?”

“Absolutely.”

“Meet who?” Millie asked, letting the screen door slap behind her. She handed Jimmy to his father whose face lit up when the little guy cooed a smile.

“Did you miss your daddy, little man?” Joey tucked his son against his chest. “How about you and I have a nice little rock here on Grandma’s porch?”

Millie took the other rocker. “Who’s this you’re meeting, Danny? Anyone I know?”

“No, just an old friend from school.”

“An old
girlfriend
from school,” Joey added.

She stopped rocking. “What? You’re seeing an old girlfriend?”

“It’s nothing. Really.”

“Nothing, huh? Then you’ll be writing Anya to tell her, will you?”

Danny swallowed over the baseball-size lump in his throat. He coughed as a wave of guilt swept through him, then faked another one. “Of course, I will. I hide nothing from my wife.”

“Well then. Good for you.” Millie gave him a wink.

“Good for you,” Joey echoed. “Hey, Cubs are playing the Phillies on Friday. Dad said he’d work the theater so you and I could go. Will that work for you?”

“Sure! I’ll just meet you at Wrigley after my last class. I’m done at noon. Game starts at 1:30 so I should be there by 12:30. Just let me know where to meet you.”

“Will do. This could be the year, brother.”

“This
is
the year, brother!”

14 September 1945 

Chicago, Illinois 

Danny awoke with a serious case of the jitters on Friday morning. He looked himself in the eye while shaving and asked for the umpteenth time why he’d agreed to meet Beverly for coffee. And, for the umpteenth time, he told himself he was overthinking the whole thing. He’d written Anya the night before, primarily to keep himself accountable and completely aboveboard. He felt sure she’d understand.

Well, mostly sure.

He wrote about everything else he could think of before adding a brief note about Beverly.

You won’t believe who I ran into on campus. Remember Beverly, the girl at Northwestern who dumped me for a football player? I had no idea she was working at the downtown campus. Really weird seeing her again. I found out her husband was killed in action last fall when his aircraft carrier was bombed by the Japs. I told her all about you and showed her the picture from our wedding day. She seemed really happy for us.

Anyway, we’re having coffee on Friday. She said there’s something she needs to tell me. Seeing her again only confirmed how lucky a guy I am to be married to
you
and how much I love you. I feel sorry for her losing her husband, but mostly I’m just glad she dumped me. Otherwise I might never have enlisted and crossed paths with you in Holland. In a strange way I guess I should thank her for that, huh?

The problem was, no matter how legitimate it looked on paper, he couldn’t help wondering if it would upset Anya. On and on, the argument battled through his mind. By the time he got to his first class, he’d made up his mind to meet Beverly, then explain why he couldn’t stay.

As he entered the student union coffee shop, she waved him over to a corner table.

“I would have bought you a cup of coffee, but I wasn’t sure you’d come.”

“That’s okay, because I’m afraid I can’t stay.”

Her expression fell, and he felt like a jerk.

“It’s just that, as much as I try to convince myself otherwise, I know Anya would not be comfortable with me seeing you again. No matter how innocent. And I’d never do anything to hurt her. I hope you understand.”

“Oh. Well, I …” She looked away but said nothing more.

He pulled out a chair and sat down. “Beverly, I’m sorry. I just didn’t want to give you the wrong impression or anything.”

“No, I understand, Danny. Honest I do. But I’d never do anything to interfere with your relationship with your wife. I would hope you know that.”

He held her eyes for a moment before she continued.

“The thing is, I simply wanted to apologize for what happened between us, back before the war. I was young and stupid, if you must know, and I was a fool for hurting you the way I did.”

“It’s okay. Besides, that was a lifetime ago, so‌—‌”

“I know, but I made a vow to myself that if I ever had the opportunity, I would apologize to you. Because in choosing Ronnie, I made an enormous mistake. Not long after he shipped out to the Pacific, I found out he’d been seeing someone. I knew because she came to me about a month later and was quite pregnant. Apparently he’d been seeing her off and on for quite some time. I didn’t believe her at first, and certainly didn’t think the child was Ronnie’s, but she had pictures of the two of them together. She showed me a handful of letters addressed to her in his handwriting. I was so stunned, I quite literally couldn’t comprehend all of it.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“No, I’m the one who’s sorry. I know you, Danny McClain, and I know
you
would never do such a thing. You’re a good and decent man. Which is why I’ve wanted to ask for your forgiveness. And the thing is, I’ve always known that I needed to say it more than you needed to hear it. Especially now, after saying you wouldn’t do anything that might hurt Anya’s feelings. Because I know that feeling all too well.” She pressed her lips into a trembling smile.

Danny folded his hands together and studied them, his mind a jumble as he searched for the right words.

“Beverly, um … well, thank you. But you don’t owe me an apology. Seriously, you don’t. We were
both
young and stupid back then. I think everyone is at that age. Yes, you broke my heart, but like most things that happen to us along the way, I learned from it. I never wished you ill, or that Ronnie would hurt you like that.” He shook his head. “I guess I’ll never understand why people do the things they do. When I was overseas, guys were always getting those ‘Dear John’ letters everyone talked about. It’s hard enough waking up each morning wondering if today would be the day you die, but getting a letter like that? Brutal. And like it or not, it always affected the whole crew.

“But at the same time, I saw plenty of guys cheating on their wives. With lots of beautiful English girls around, and all of them smitten with American flyboys‌—‌well, it just happens. But I just don’t get it. Never did, never will. Guess I’m just too old-fashioned.”

“No, I think you were raised with a solid foundation of morals. I noticed that about you from the first time we met.”

The mention of it flashed him back to the fall of 1941. He was working behind the counter of The Grill at Northwestern, a popular soda shop on the Evanston campus. “Hi there, Danny,” she’d said. She ordered a cup of coffee and a brownie, and he’d fallen for her head over heels.

“Danny?”

He blinked, dismissing the memory. “Oh, well, I should probably go.” He checked his watch then stood and grabbed his satchel. “Thanks for understanding, Beverly. I’m sure I’ll see you around campus, but‌—‌”

“Not a problem, Danny.”

He glanced at her once more, then made his way out the door and up the stairs to the campus post office where he mailed his letter to Anya.

And prayed she’d understand.

22

Wrigley Field, Chicago, Illinois

Danny spotted Joey waiting at the appointed gate when he arrived. He introduced him to his new friend, ticket-taker Marvin Clancy, who vigorously shook his hand and thanked him for his service during the war.

Marvin slipped the tickets out of his shirt pocket. “Great seats, only five rows up behind the Cubs dugout,” he said with a broad smile. “And I’m sure you know we’re playing a doubleheader today since we got rained out yesterday. These seats are yours for both games.”

“Marv, you sure we can’t pay you for these?” Joey asked.

“Get outta here. Your money’s no good to me. Besides, you’re both veterans so you get in free anyway. These just give you better seats.”

Danny extended his hand a second time. “Thanks so much, Mr. Clancy.”

“Call me Marv. And you’re welcome. Have a good time, boys.”

Joey wove his way through the crowded tunnel with Danny right behind him.

As they made their way to the third base side of the stadium, the powerful aromas of popcorn, hot dogs, and grilled burgers ushered back memories of years gone by when he and Joey came to the beloved park with gloves in hand. Their pockets filled with change, Danny and his brother came ready to buy snacks and sodas from the vendors. Doubleheaders dictated a splurge for hot dogs, and over the years, they’d decided that no hot dog tasted better than those eaten at Wrigley during a ball game.

“Never like this before the war,” Danny shouted. “I can’t believe this crowd.”

“I know, isn’t it great? Dad and I came to some games earlier this season, but they were nothing like this. Only goes to show you what a winning season can do. Here we go. This is our entrance.”

They walked back into the sunshine and began their descent to the sectioned box seats behind the Cubs dugout. As they located their seats on the aisle, they looked at each other with grins so big, they had to laugh.

“Doesn’t get much better than this, little brother!” Joey said.

“Wow—I forgot they painted the scoreboard and bleachers green last year. That’ll take some getting used to, don’t you think?”

“Lots of fans have been bellyaching about it, but that’ll end once we win the pennant. Hey, look,” Joey said, pointing toward the dugout. “There’s Derringer making his way back from the bullpen. He must be pitching today.”

“Still the flashy dresser with a hot temper?” Danny asked.

“Flashy as ever, still smoking his pipe in the clubhouse, and always ready for a fight,” Joey said with a chuckle. “But he started the season as the winningest pitcher in the majors, so Grimm puts up with him.”

Joey waved over a vendor and bought two bags of peanuts and two sodas, insisting on paying. “Hey, I’m the one with an income, so these are on me.”

“You think you’re a regular Rockefeller, don’t you?”

“Hardly. Just happy to have my kid brother back at Wrigley with me.”

“Happy to be here, big brother.” Danny clapped him on the back. “Hey, is that still Roy Nelson playing the organ?”

“Sure is. Have to say I was surprised when other ballparks around the country started installing organs like ours here. Never thought baseball fans would go for it.”

“Maybe, but you have to admit if Nelson weren’t playing, it would seem awfully quiet now that we’re so used to it.”

“You’re probably right.”

As the team headed back to the dugout, Danny asked about the Cubs’ beloved manager, Charley Grimm.

“They never should’ve let him go back in ’38. Everyone was thrilled when Wrigley brought him back last year to replace Wilson. The team loves him, and wow, that makes
all
the difference in the world.”

“Attention! Attention please!” cried the familiar voice over the PA system. “Have your pencil and scorecards ready, and I’ll give you the correct lineup for today’s first game!”

“Ol’ Pat Pieper’s still calling the games, eh?” Danny laughed as Joey nodded. “Do you remember Dad telling us how, back in the old days, Pieper used to run up and down the lines lugging his big megaphone to call the game?”

“Yeah, I heard him interviewed on the radio the other day. Said he always lost seven or eight pounds a game, especially in the dead heat of summer.”

“PLAAAAAAAAY BAAAAALLLL!” Pieper roared.

The crowd cheered the Cubs then booed the Philadelphia Phillies as they took the field.

“I still can’t believe we’re having such a great season,” Danny said, “especially with all the latecomers trickling back from the war.”

“No kidding,” Joey added. “Supposedly, out of the 600 or so major league ball players, about 360 were drafted into active service back in ’41. Pretty much gutted some of the teams. Course, that gave a lot of the 4-F players a chance to shine.”

“But how could those guys be fit enough to play ball, but culled from active service? Like Phil Cavarretta. He’s been a powerhouse for years, so how come he didn’t get drafted?”

“Some kind of hearing problem, I think. A lot of the 4-F guys had issues like that‌—‌problems that had no real impact on their playing. High blood pressure, ringing in the ears, color blindness, that sort of thing. And before the attack on Pearl in ’41, guys who were married with kids didn’t have to serve since the government didn’t want them to leave their families with no income. Course, as the war dragged on, a lot of those guys were drafted anyway to do desk jobs on the home front.”

“Didn’t you tell me only nine guys showed up at the start of spring training down in French Lick?”

“Yeah, weird, huh? It was so bad, they had to hire some semi-pro players, and even some high school kids to play. Which was pretty funny since they could only play on weekends because of school. Can you imagine? And there was a 53-year-old coach who showed up to play at third.” Joey shook his head and laughed before taking another swig of his soda. “I can’t even picture what that team must have looked like. Oh, and get this‌—‌they were stretched so thin on the mound during some of the early spring training games, they had to borrow pitchers from the opposing teams.”

“Unbelievable. Especially when you consider they started the season like that. And yet here they are, close to snatching the National League pennant!”

“Yep, that’s our Cubs. And during a war, no less. But they had their challenges just like all the other clubs. Like traveling. Back in ’42 when Roosevelt wrote his ‘Green Light’ letter, allowing baseball to continue during the war ‘for the good of the country’‌—‌that was easier said than done. Since the troops had priority over the rails, the teams got bumped all the time which messed up everybody’s schedule. The Phillies ended up in a baggage car once because there were so many soldiers on board.”

“Couldn’t happen to a nicer team,” Danny teased.

“Got that right.”

“So what’s the situation with the lights? In one of your letters, you wrote that Wrigley finally bought some for night games, but handed them over to the navy once the war started. Think we’ll get lights anytime soon?”

“He made a good call on that, since none of the stadiums could use lights during the blackouts. But I haven’t heard any more about it. Guess the money’s still tight even though the war’s over.”

About halfway through the game, Joey suddenly elbowed Danny. “I can’t believe I forgot to ask you. Did you meet Beverly this morning?”

“Yes, and I’m glad I did. Mostly, she wanted to apologize for dumping me for Ronnie. Turns out he’d been cheating on her before he left for the Pacific. Not only that, his pregnant girlfriend showed up on Bev’s doorstep.”

“Ouch. That had to hurt.”

“No kidding. So she not only lost her husband in the war, but she has to live with the fact he’d been unfaithful to her. I think that’s why she wanted me to know how sorry she was for hurting me. And I’ll be honest. As rotten as it was to hear how all that turned out for her, it felt kind of good when she admitted she’d made the wrong choice, picking him over me.”

“Well, there you go. Nice to hear her say it, but no need to see her again. Right?”

Danny watched Phillies pitcher Andy Karl throw another strike. “What did you say?”

“I said there’s no need to see Beverly again, right? Now that you heard what she had to say?”

Danny shrugged. “I’m sure I’ll run into her on campus from time to time, but otherwise, no. And just so you know, I wrote a letter to Anya and told her all about it. Mailed it right after I met with Bev. So that’s that.”

“Here’s hoping.”

A pop fly sailed over their heads as fans scrambled to catch the foul ball.

“Here’s hoping?” Danny asked. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Well, look at it from Anya’s perspective,” Joey began. “She’s thousands of miles away, frustrated with all the delays of getting over here, and now she’ll get a letter mentioning your old girlfriend who you’ve now seen
twice
and you’re bound to see now and then on campus? Put yourself in her shoes. Wouldn’t that make you a little jealous?”

Danny glanced at him, then shelled another peanut and tossed it in his mouth. “I see your point, but it’s a little late now, don’t you think? And let’s not forget it was Millie who suggested I write Anya about seeing Beverly, just to keep it on the up-and-up.”

Joey slurped more of his soda. “Oh, no you don’t,” he teased. “You got yourself into this. Don’t be dragging Millie or me into your problems.”

“Who said anything about problems?”

“Riiiiiight,” Joey mused as the inning ended.

Danny arched his back as the Cubs took the field again. After warming up, Derringer threw his first pitch.

“I still can’t get over the change in Dad. I keep waiting for the grumpy old guy to light into me or have an outburst at the dinner table. He’s a lot more subdued than he used to be.”

“Hey, considering what he used to be like, I have no complaints. In fact, it’s been a real kick watching him with Jimmy. I doubt he ever cradled you or me like that when we were babies. Seems like when we were kids, all he ever did was try to make us as miserable as possible.”

Danny laughed. “Well, it’s obvious he didn’t inflict too much harm. You make a pretty good father yourself, at least from where I’m sitting.”

“Hey, it’s easy when you’re married to a great girl like Millie. She’s smart and lovable, no matter what she does or has to put up with. To watch her, you’d think she was a pro at this parenting thing. And it’s obvious Jimmy picks up on her confidence. Course, he’s got us both wrapped around his little finger most of the time.”

“You can say that again.”

Their conversation ebbed and flowed as the game stretched on. In the seventh inning, the Phillies rallied two runs as Derringer lost his steam. Grimm sent in two relief pitchers, but the damage was done. The Phillies won 4-3.

“Sure hope we didn’t bring them bad luck,” Danny said, standing to take a stretch.

“We’ll get ‘em next game. Are you hungry?”

“Starving. The hot dogs are on me. Let’s go stretch our legs and buy some on the way back.”

Twenty minutes later, they’d wolfed down two dogs each and washed them down with a second round of soda. Back in their seats for the second game, they cheered as the Cubs and Phillies once again took their respective spots on the field.

“Glad Passeau is pitching this one,” Danny said, happy to see number 13 take the mound. “I was hoping to see the old man pitch today. He’s got to be nearing forty, right?”

“Nah, he’s only thirty-six. He was another deferment. That gunshot wound to his left hand when he was a teenager must’ve scared off the draft board, but lucky for us it’s never affected his pitching.”

“Or his hitting. Didn’t he start the season as one of the majors’ best hitting pitchers?”

“Yeah, his bat has been on fire these past few years. He’s racked up hits and home runs like you wouldn’t believe. Cubs got their money’s worth with Passeau.”

“Sure hope he can give us a win this game. I’d hate to spend this many hours at Wrigley only to see them lose both games.”

Thankfully, the Cubs romped the Phillies 6-0 in the second game as lucky number 13, Claude Passeau, pitched the shutout for his seventeenth win of the season. The Cubs were now 87-52-1 on the season, and the McClain brothers couldn’t be happier.