“Don't you
see,” he said softly, “I had to hear what it is I'm working so hard for.
Now that I remember how it was, I know I have
to play like that again.”
For the first
time, she could see a glimmer of the boy she’d known.
She wondered why he had waited until they
were alone, without Milo or Jana, to listen to the recording.
She told herself it was because he trusted her,
but she also suspected he’d been afraid to see their reaction to hearing him as
he had been.
It was fear that now filled
his eyes, as he sat replaying the music in his mind.
She wanted to comfort him, to tell him that
he would play again.
But the doctor's
words of caution came back to her.
There
were no guarantees.
Only time would
tell.
So she leaned down and kissed his
forehead, smoothing the rough curls, and left him alone with his memories.
Chapter Twenty-four
Classes
resumed, mid-term exams came and went.
January was bitterly cold, and then the February rain moved in and
seemed to be ever present.
Where
previously life had been a slow-moving misery, now Emily found her days full
and productive as she looked to her rapidly developing future.
Once the process had begun, it had been
relatively simple to arrange for application to the University nursing
program.
She’d been accepted within the
month and was carrying an extra-heavy class load in preparation for the
transfer.
Life was hectic, but she was happy
to stay busy, to keep her mind occupied with something other than wondering how
Stani Moss might be progressing in his recovery.
Splashing back
from class one afternoon, she rushed into the dorm head down, nearly colliding
with a group of girls gathered in the hall.
Their faces were sober and they turned as one to look at her with fear
in their eyes.
“What?” she demanded,
instantly thinking of her father.
One of the
girls spoke, her voice hushed.
“The
bereavement officer was just here.
To
see Penny.”
Emily was
already headed for the stairs.
“Is she
up there now?”
“No, she's in
the super's office.
We didn't know they
were engaged.”
Another girl looked
sharply at Emily.
“I did,” she
said simply, and strode across to the closed door marked Dorm Mother.
She knocked softly and the door was
immediately opened.
Beyond the concerned
face of the supervisor, she could see Penny seated on the couch, ramrod
straight, her eyes fixed on the wall opposite.
As the door closed behind the departing super, Emily rushed to gather
Penny in her arms, holding her tightly until finally she started to sob.
For a time, they clung together and cried,
whispering words that had little meaning other than to convey grief and
comfort.
When Penny at last lifted her
head, wiping at her eyes with a trembling hand, she looked toward the door,
where shadows of the waiting group could be seen through the frosted glass.
“Take me
upstairs, Em?
I just want to be alone.”
Emily draped a
protective arm around her shoulders and together they walked out of the office,
past the cluster of girls and up the stairs.
Once in their room, Penny went straight to Frankie’s photograph on her
bedside table, turning it face down without looking at the image.
“I can't go to his funeral.
It will be in Nebraska.
I don't have any way to get there.”
Emily tried to
imagine the anguish behind that simple statement.
Not only to lose the man you loved and
planned to spend your life with, but to be denied the comfort of attending his
funeral, of sharing the grief with his family, was too harsh to accept.
She remembered her mother's funeral and how
much it had calmed her to sit in the church surrounded by friends and family,
to celebrate the life of someone they had all loved.
Surely, there had to be some way to get Penny
to Nebraska.
“Your parents
couldn't loan you the money?” she asked, already sure of the answer.
“They don't
even know about the engagement.
I don't
know how I'm going to tell them that I was engaged and that now my fiancé is
dead.”
Penny's voice cracked, but she
didn't cry again.
Instead, her face
seemed frozen in a look so tragic that Emily was instantly determined to find
some way to ease her suffering.
“Penny, we'll
find a way.
I know there has to be
something. . . .Oh, my gosh, of course there is.”
Penny looked up skeptically.
“
I
can give you the money, as much
money as you need.
And you never have to
pay me back.”
“What are you
talking about?”
“That
check.
I put it in the bank, like you
said, in case of emergency.
This certainly
qualifies as an emergency.
Look, I'll
help you make whatever arrangements you need.”
Rapidly warming to her subject, she rushed on.
“We'll get you a plane ticket.
And something nice to wear.
You know you want to make Frankie proud when
you meet his family.
And you can stay
there as long as you want, in a hotel if they don't have room for you.”
They were both crying now, but Penny for once
seemed willing to let Emily take charge.
She agreed to call Frankie's family and ask if she'd be welcome at the
funeral.
At least
they
knew about the engagement, she said.
As Emily
started to leave, planning to tell the dorm super of their plan, Penny stopped
her.
“I'll pay you back, Em.
I promise.”
“Don't be
ridiculous.
I didn't even want that
money, remember?
I'm just thankful I
held on to it.
Funny, when you think
that it's because of Stani Moss that I can help my best friend now when she
needs it.”
As she walked down the
stairs, the thought occurred to her that it wasn't funny at all; it was another
part of whatever miracle had brought him to her valley in the first place.
Two days later,
Valentine's Day, Emily drove Penny to the airport.
The rain had finally stopped and the day was
bright and windy.
There had been a bad
moment that morning, when Penny received a delivery of a dozen red roses.
Tucked inside the box was a card, “All my
love, Frankie.”
Penny had collapsed on
her bed, sobbing bitterly.
When Emily
contacted the florist who made the delivery, she was told the roses had been
ordered over a month before, paid for by one of Frankie's buddies from the
base.
It was common practice, the
florist explained, for the boys overseas to arrange things like that as a
surprise for their wives and sweethearts.
Now, as she boarded the plane for Nebraska, Penny was wearing two of the
roses pinned to the lapel of her new coat.
Driving back to
campus, Emily thought again of the irony of the situation.
Using that money for such a cause made it
seem more like a gift, less like a payoff.
She wondered for a moment if she should write to Milo Scheider and thank
him for sending the check.
But that
would risk opening a door she was finally learning to leave closed.
Better just to say a prayer of thanks that
Penny would have the comfort of attending her soldier's funeral.
Better to let the memory of Stani Moss
continue to fade.
Chapter Twenty-five
On Thursday
afternoon before the start of the Easter break, Emily did the unthinkable.
She cut a class and began her holiday
early.
Determined to be home for the
Good Friday service the following noon, she drove all evening, finally reaching
the farm after ten o'clock.
At some
point during the spring rains, the road leading up from the highway had suffered
a deep washout, and she’d been forced to walk the last fifty yards to the gate
in the dark.
Lugging her duffel bag
across the yard, she wondered why Jack had not warned her of the obstacle but
was too tired to be very unhappy about the inconvenience.
Letting herself
in the front door, she switched on the light and wearily dropped her bag.
Beneath her heel, she felt the crunch of
something hard and looking down, she caught her breath in horror.
From the rug, six whiskered faces looked up
at her, pausing in what appeared to be their bedtime snack.
Six pairs of gleaming black eyes fixed her
with a curious gaze.
When she screamed
at the top of her lungs and leapt onto the nearby chair, her welcoming
committee exchanged puzzled glances, dropped to all fours and scattered.
One particularly bold member had the audacity
to scurry back to snatch up a crumb left in haste, stood for a moment to wiggle
his whiskers at her, then turned his naked little tail and ran away.
When her heart
had stopped pounding quite so painfully, Emily tiptoed through the dining room
and retrieved the broom from the pantry, her wide eyes scanning the floor for
any further sign of intruders.
To her
astonishment, a trail of dried bean hulls ran from the kitchen all the way
through to the front room.
Little side
trails of unspeakable black droppings led to cabinets and drawers.
Frightened and angry, Emily felt tears of
frustration welling.
How dare anything
so disgusting, so filthy, so thoroughly
un
-welcoming, break into her
house?
Clutching the
broom, she immediately went to the telephone and dialed Jack's number.
It didn't matter how late it was, he needed
to know about this, now.
When his sleepy
voice answered, she suffered a momentary pang of guilt.
But at the sight of yet another dried bean,
just at the edge of the hearth, it passed.
“Jack, I have
rats!” was her strident greeting.
“What?
What are you doing home tonight?
I thought you were coming tomorrow.”
“I came early
so I could go to church tomorrow.
Now
what are you going to do about these rats?
I can't sleep here with them, that's for sure.”
Thoroughly
awake now, Jack groaned.
“What am
I
going to do?
I thought it was
your
house.”
She was sure he was grinning
into the phone.
“Jack, you know
how I feel about rodents.
I can take
almost anything else, snakes, lizards, even spiders, but not rodents!
Especially not the kind that show absolutely
no fear of humans.
These guys
practically invited me to sit down and visit.”
As she talked, she turned in a defensive circle, scouting for her enemy
and winding the phone's cord around her waist.
Now he laughed,
and she had to smile in response.
“All
right, calm down.
Where were these
vicious beasts when you last saw them?”
“Headed for
wherever they've built their lair.
They've been all over the house, though.”
She let out an audible shudder.
“Ugh!
There are droppings everywhere!
Oh, Jack, I know it's late, but could you please come up here?
Oh!
And when did the road wash out?
I
had to leave my car down on the hill.”
Jack took pity
on her then, assuring her he'd be out as soon as he could get dressed.
“I didn't think the washout was that
deep.
Poor kid, it wasn't much of a
welcome home, was it?”
“Not what I
expected.”
From somewhere in the
vicinity of the kitchen, she heard a noise and pictured the band of six racing
across the linoleum.
With a stifled
scream, she again climbed to the safety of the chair, barely catching the
telephone as it slid off the table.
“Hurry, Jack, please hurry!
I'll
be waiting on the front porch.”
When Jack
arrived Emily was curled on the porch swing, wrapped in a quilt against the
cool night air, sound asleep.
Carefully,
he took a seat beside her, taking a minute to study her face in the light from
the window, before she opened her eyes and smiled.