Beyond the Shadow of War (3 page)

Charlie raised his glass and cleared his throat. “I know the last thing Danny and I thought about when we enlisted was finding true love in the midst of war. Mostly, we just hoped to make it home in one piece.” He slipped his arm around Sophie’s waist. “In spite of it all, here we stand as the war is finally over, and beside us, the two most beautiful women on God’s green earth.”

“Here here!” Sophie cheered, raising her glass toward Anya. Anya followed her lead, clinking her glass against Sophie’s.

“Today we offer our congratulations to Anya and Danny as they begin their life together as husband and wife. Someday your grandchildren will ask to hear about your love story, and my guess is they’ll find it hard to believe. How two people from different sides of the world became friends through written letters while still in high school, then years later found their paths crossing in, of all places, the middle of a war.” He shook his head, smiling. “If that’s not providential, I don’t know what is.

“And so it is with great pleasure I wish you both a lifetime of happiness, a love that stands true and uncompromised no matter what life may bring your way, and hearts filled with promise and hope once again as the clouds of war are finally clearing.” Charlie raised his glass higher. “To Danny and Anya.”

“To Danny and Anya!”

Danny took a sip then leaned over to kiss his wife.

“Charlie, thank you for your kind words,” he began. “Didn’t know you had it in you, buddy.”

“I practiced for weeks.”

“Sure you did.”

“Hours and hours.”

“Of course.

“Okay, have it your way. It was ad-libbed. All of it. Spur of the moment.”

“That’s more like it.”

They all laughed, accustomed to the familiar banter between the two.

“I thought it was splendid, love,” Sophie added. “And Danny, might I add that I also wish you and Anya every happiness. Now, are you ready to cut the cake?”

“Actually, there’s something I’d like to do first.” Danny set down his glass then reached into the pocket of his jacket. “I received a telegram this morning from my parents, and I’d like to share it with all of you.”

“Go ahead and read it, Danny,” Sophie said.

He looked at Anya and gave her a wink. “All right, here’s what they wrote.
‘Shocked and delighted to hear of your wedding. Stop. Wish we could be there. Stop. We cannot wait to meet Anya and welcome her to our family. Stop. God bless you both today and may He bless your marriage always. Stop. All our love, Mom and Dad.’”

When Danny’s voice cracked, he busied himself folding the telegram then tucked it back in his pocket.

“How lovely,” Sophie said. “A fine message to cheer you on today.”

Anya reached up to kiss his cheek. “That’s lovely, Danny. So thoughtful of them.”

Later, after cutting the cake, the newlyweds thanked Patrick for all his kindnesses, then joined Charlie and Sophie in Patrick’s automobile for the short drive to the Wickham Market Station. They chatted happily along the way, arriving in plenty of time. As the men walked ahead, carrying their luggage, Sophie looped her arm through Anya’s.

“Oh Anya, I hope you and Danny have the most unforgettable honeymoon. Just relax and forget about everything else whilst you’re in London. Promise?”

“We’ll try.”

When they arrived at their train carriage, they said their goodbyes.

“Have a wonderful time!” Sophie said. “Be sure to say hello to the king and queen for us, won’t you?”

“We will!”

Then, before climbing the steps into the train, Anya stopped and turned back to Sophie, pulling her into a final hug. “How can I ever thank you for all you’ve done? You’ve been so kind to me. You didn’t even know me, and yet you loaned me this beautiful dress, and helped find clothes for me, and fixed my hair today … and helped calm my nerves after the wretched nightmares. How can I ever repay you?”

Sophie stood back and grabbed both of Anya’s hands. “There’s no need. It’s been my pleasure, Anya.”

Anya blinked away the tears and took a deep breath. “The thing is, I don’t even know how to properly thank you for being … my friend.”

“And you will never know how
pleased
I am that I got to be that friend for you. It’s been my honor.”

“All aboard!”

“Goodbye!”

“Have fun!”

“Thanks for everything!”

“Goodbye!”

Danny stood aside and held out his hand to his wife. “After you, Mrs. McClain.”

“Why, thank you, Mr. McClain.”

3

With his new wife seated beside him on the train, her head tucked beneath his chin as she slept, Danny gazed out the window watching the farm fields and houses and little hamlets pass by. The thoughts rambling through his mind followed no particular script; just a jumbled maze of rabbit trails hopping here and there. But one by one, they all ended with the same thought.

We’re married?

We’re married!

I can’t believe we’re actually married!

He gently kissed the top of her head as she slept beside him, inhaling the scent of her hair, and thanking God for the miracle of their love story.

She’d been strangely quiet once they’d settled into their seats on the train. At first, they’d chatted quietly about the wedding and the honeymoon they’d be spending in London. Despite the bumpy, peculiar path their lives had taken these past few weeks, he was already learning to read the signs of her shifting moods. Eyes that wouldn’t meet his, staring off at some unseen memory. The slight stiffening of her shoulders as if bracing for confrontation. The way she nibbled at her thumbnail without ever actually biting down on it.

He took a deep breath and tried to set aside such thoughts. He knew it would take some adjustment, this marriage of theirs. Anya wasn’t just a new bride; she was still recovering from the war’s deep and jagged scars on her emotions. But at this moment, Danny chose to shun such thoughts because this was their wedding day.

She stirred, rousing from her sleep. “Did you say something?”

He shook his head and brushed the wisps of hair away from her eyes. “No, but I do have something I need to tell you.”

Her expression tensed. “Tell me what?”

He crooked his finger, motioning her closer then whispered in her ear, “I love you, Anya Liesj Versteeg McClain.”

A shy smile eased her expression. “Such a mouthful, all those names.”

“Yes, but they’re yours and I love them. All of them. Preferably together.”

“And would you prefer I call you Daniel Howard McClain?”

“Actually, I prefer
Lieutenant
Daniel Howard McClain. But I’ll make an exception. Just for you.”

“How gracious of you.”

“Then again, I don’t care what you call me as long as you call me.”

“Is that so?”

“Yes, ma’am, that’s affirmative.” He leaned down to kiss her lips. When she didn’t respond, he sat back. She motioned with her eyes, nodding toward the elderly lady in the seat facing them. The white-haired woman smiled, apparently enjoying their public display of affection.

“Got it,” Danny whispered. “Okay, then.” He nodded toward the window. “Take a look. We’re coming into London.”

“Already?”

He’d meant it as a diversion, hoping to distract the old lady. But when he saw the crumbled, massive piles of debris and still-smoldering ashes, he froze, unable to look away.

As the train gradually slowed, a number of houses flashed by, some still intact but most gutted and empty. As if a giant had walked through the neighborhoods, squashing each home to ruin with mighty, deliberate steps. In some areas, demolition had cleared block after block, leaving only crumbled foundations and an occasional chimney where homes once stood.

In the front yards of those still standing, people of all ages picked through the rubble. He wondered if they were looking for missing heirlooms, searching for anything that could be salvaged. Or were these complete strangers, pilfering through the dusty remnants of someone else’s life?

With her back still leaning against him, Danny felt Anya’s shiver as she gazed at the sight. He wrapped his arm around her and pulled her closer.

“Anya?”

She turned to face him, and the haunted look in her eyes almost undid him.

“It’s all right. I’m here.”

She grasped his hand and held tight. “I know. It just looks‌—‌”

“‌—‌too much like home?”

She nodded slowly.

“That day I found you in your house. Do you remember showing me the little pig Hans had carved for you?”

“Yes. I was just thinking about that this morning.”

“Do you still have it?”

“Of course. Why?”

He was stalling, trying to keep her distracted from the rubble passing by outside the window. “Oh, no reason. Just wondering. What do you call it? In Dutch, I mean?”

Her expression lightened. “
Mijn vliegend varken.”

“Main veekend farkan?”

Anya shook her head and tried not to snicker.

“What’s so funny? I said it just the way you did.”

She covered her face as silent laughter shook her shoulders.

“Oh, come on now. It wasn’t
that
bad, was it?”

Still smiling, she finally looked up at him. “That was
worse
than bad,
Danny. Please‌—‌you have to promise me you won’t ever try to speak Dutch again.”

“What? Why?”

Anya pressed her fingers against his lips. “Because you
sound
like a pig, and it’s an insult to the Dutch language.” She shook her head, still smiling. “You must not even try. Promise me.”

He feigned a pout, removing her fingers from his lips. “That bad?”

“Horrible.” She snorted.
“Afschuwelijk!
”

“God bless you.”

“What?”

“You sneezed. I said ‘God bless you.’”

“But I didn’t sneeze.”

“Yes, you did. You said, ‘achoo-lik’ or something like that.”

Her laughter filled the space between. When she tried to compose herself with a deep breath, she lost it all over again.

He folded his arms across his chest. “Okay, go ahead. Have your fun. I can take it.”

She dabbed at her eyes, trying to find her composure. “It never ceases to amaze me how tears can show up at the best of times as well as the worst of times. It makes no sense.”

He said nothing, just stared at her.

She elbowed him. “Go ahead. I’m sure you have some clever retort just dying to spring from your lips.”

He leaned toward her, his arms still folded. “No. But I admit I love to hear you laugh.”

“Don’t be silly. Hans used to say I laughed like a chicken‌—‌all clucks and snorts and honks.”

“I bet he loved the sound of it as much as I do.”

Her smile started to fade. But just a little. “I don’t know. I suppose. Maybe.”

“Sure he did.” Danny drew her close to his side. “Anya, I want you to promise
me
something.”

“Promise what?”

“We’re going to see a lot of bomb damage‌—‌”

She started to turn toward the window again, but he gently nudged her chin back toward him.

“Listen to me. I must be some kind of idiot, suggesting we take our honeymoon in London. It never occurred to me that the damage from the Blitz would remind you of home and the war, when all I wanted was a chance for us to get away and have some fun.”

“Danny, it’s‌—‌”

“So what I want you to promise me is this. Look beyond the war’s remnants. When you see sights like those out the window, remember that it’s
over
. No more bombs will fall on us. In Holland and England and all the other countries damaged in the war, it’s time to rebuild and make a fresh start. That doesn’t mean we forget everything that happened or those we lost during the war.

“But right now,” he laced his fingers with hers again, “let’s try to block out everything. Even if just while we’re here. Let’s look beyond it and just be thankful we have each other. Can we do that?” He noted a flicker of the sadness in her eyes as she nodded, then watched it ease away with the hint of a smile.

“Promise me?”

“Yes. I’ll try very hard.”

“Is that a promise?”

“I promise.”

With a quick glance at the elderly woman across from them, Danny turned and gave his wife a resounding kiss. “There. That seals the deal. Veekend farkan or no veekend farkan!”

Anya groaned a laugh. “No, you promised!”

“Newlyweds?” the woman across from them asked.

“Yes, ma’am,” Danny said. “Married this morning.”

“And isn’t that lovely?” She tilted her head as she studied them. “I wish you both the best. My husband and I have been married for over fifty-six years.”

Danny blew a whistle. “That’s a long time. What’s your secret?”

“Very simple, I think. You have to make sure you marry the right person, of course. But I can see you’ve already done that.” Her eyes twinkled as she continued. “Then you get up every morning and ask the good Lord to give you one thing you can do that day to show your love for her, and her for you. Even in the tough times, you’ll find it makes all the difference.”

“Good advice, don’t you think, Anya?”

“Yes, I should think that’s very good advice. Thank you.”

“You are most welcome.”

“Anything else?” Danny asked.

She smiled. “Oh, I expect you’ll figure it out along the way. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I believe this is my stop.”

As the train came slowed to a stop, Danny stood and helped her collect her things. She glanced back once more before leaving.

“Congratulations to you both. Enjoy your honeymoon.” With a wink, she left them.