Promise to Cherish (10 page)

CHAPTER 8

C
hristine looked out the bedroom window of her girlhood home onto the snow-covered street. Byron’s black Ford truck slid into her driveway. The horn sounded a few moments later and Christine gathered her things. Since she’d worked on Christmas Day, she’d gotten all of New Year’s Eve off and she, Jeanne and Byron were headed to a party.

She took a deep breath as she looked in the mirror. The New Year’s Eve party was being thrown by some high school friends and Christine was only going because of Jeanne’s invite. They were her friends more than Christine’s. Jeanne had been a popular cheerleader, after all. She’d only agreed to go after Jeanne begged her.

After repainting her lips red, she patted her hair, making sure it would stay. Ever since Gussie’s comment about Vivien Leigh, she’d been trying to style her hair just like she’d seen the star do in the pictures. She moved her side part down the middle and smoothed it out on top, making sure the curls around her neck were shaped perfectly.

Though she could only see from the waist up in her mirror, the image that returned surprised her. Millicent had lent her
a dress again—too cheeky for her—but she had nothing else to wear. The neckline was lower than what she usually wore, but she had to admit, she did feel beautiful and shapely in it. It perfectly hugged her curvaceous chest and waist. She blushed in her own presence for thinking such thoughts. Her curves always made her self-conscious. She was glad her nursing uniform, with its apron, hid her figure better than most dresses. At five-foot-nine, her chest wasn’t the only thing that made her feel out of place with other women. She left the bathroom pleased with her appearance and grabbed her purse and coat off the davenport.

“Have a good time, Christine. You tell Cody and Darlene I said hello. Are you coming here after or going back to your apartment at the hospital?”

“Hospital. I need to work in the morning.” She hugged her mother and waved at Doris and her father, who sat on the couch reading.

Her sister waved at her without looking up from
The Saturday Evening Post
. Her father at least looked up when he waved.

They all wished each other a Happy New Year, and she left the house.

With difficulty, she kept her feet steady against the ice-covered, snowy ground. Once she made it to the truck, Jeanne beamed at her; her smile as warm as the sun. Christine closed the door behind her and settled in next to Jeanne, who was sitting in the middle.

“It’s freezing,” she said, rubbing her gloved hands together.

“Happy New Year,” Jeanne kissed Christine’s cold cheek and kept talking. “I am so glad you’re coming. I heard that
everyone
is going to be there.”

“Most of them probably won’t even remember me,” Christine balked. Then she leaned over to Byron. “Hi there. Thanks for picking me up on your date.”

He smiled and nodded.

“But look at you, Christine. You’re not the same girl you used to be in high school.”

“Thanks a lot,” Christine elbowed Jeanne.

“You know what I mean. You have always been pretty, but with the dress Millicent gave you and your hair so stylish, now everyone will notice how beautiful you are. And, I heard a little rumor.”

Jeanne’s eyes twinkled.

Christine looked at Jeanne out of the corner of her eye. “What?”

“I heard Jack Delano is going to be there.”

Christine waved a hand at her.

“I’ve seen him off and on since we danced and he hasn’t even once spoken to me.”

“Yes, but I heard he was dating a girl at Columbia.”

“It doesn’t matter. He’s not interested in me.”

“Who’s Jack Delano?” Byron asked.

“Only the most popular guy from school, and he danced nonstop with Christine last April after he came back from the war.”

“You like him?” Byron asked Christine, peeking over at her for a brief moment.

Of course she liked him, but she couldn’t let on.

Christine shrugged. “I really don’t know him that well.”

They arrived at the party, which was in a rented building behind a restaurant. Christine had never been invited to such an extravagant party and tried not to look ridiculous as she looked at the fancy sparkling décor and the unbelievable amount of food. Darlene, the hostess, greeted them and told them to help themselves to the drinks and food. Christine could hardly believe it. After the skimpiest Christmas meal they’d ever had this year, this reminded her how little money her family had. Doris made less than Christine, and with her father’s medical bills
mounting again, they were going backwards. She pushed away the thought quickly and decided to focus on having fun tonight.

Byron pulled Jeanne onto the small dance floor and Christine stood alone. It instantly made her feel like she was in high school all over again—except then Jeanne would’ve danced with Paul. She leaned against the wall and looked around the room. Christine giggled quietly when she heard Ricky Dilbert still laughing like a goose and Lois Marks and Lisa Craig were in the corner still whispering behind their hands and pointing at people—some things never changed. Suzie Lincoln had actually married Nelson Johnson. Suzie looked uncomfortable sitting at a table with a belly full of baby that couldn’t be hidden. Nelson, on the other hand, looked happily dazed with a beer in his grip. Golden-blond hair caught her eye, and before she saw her face she recognized Sandy Jordan. She and Jack had been the couple that everyone thought would marry right out of high school, but she split with him as soon as he left for overseas. She was on the arm of a tall young man with the same chiseled features as Jack, only he had sandy brown hair. He wasn’t nearly as handsome as Jack.

Only a few steps over she saw Jack. In an instant heat rushed to her face and the thudding of her heart sounded in her ears, drowning out the party. He gazed in Sandy’s direction. Was he still hurt? It had been several years, surely they were both over the ordeal. She sympathized with Jack. How awful for him to receive a letter telling him she didn’t want to marry him while he was fighting for freedom and to stay alive. Cody, who was hosting the party, patted Jack on the shoulder.

“What are you looking at?” Jeanne returned out of breath. Byron had been sent to get drinks.

She nodded in Jack and Sandy’s direction.

“Oh, I did hear that Sandy was spreading nasty things about Jack.”

“Like what?”

Jeanne whispered in her ear. “She said he hit her.”

“What?” Christine said too loudly.

“I know, can you believe that?”

“Well, I think she must be mad about something. Maybe she didn’t split with him at all. Maybe he split with her and he wasn’t here to set it straight. No wonder he’s upset.”

For the next few hours Jeanne and Byron danced, and Christine mostly picked at the meatballs, and chips with dip. As she sat near the entrance, she watched her surroundings and wondered how it was that some people fit in and some just didn’t. She never had.

Jack rushed by her and slammed the door behind him. He was upset, probably over rumors that wouldn’t die. Without a thought, she grabbed her coat and purse and walked out after him.

“Jack?” she said as she watched him stomp down the sidewalk. What was she doing? Why did she think she could help him?

Jack turned at her voice. His face was worn with burden and he inhaled deeply. His hair had come loose from his slick pomaded style.

“Are you okay?”

“She’s lying.” He pointed at the hall where music filtered through and the windows glowed yellow. “That little hussy is lying.”

Christine inhaled, recoiling at his words.

Jack exhaled slowly and took a step toward Christine. “I’m sorry. I know I shouldn’t use bad language in front of a woman.”

She shook her head and stuttered that it was okay. “I just wanted to check on you.” She paused, unsure of what to say. “And—I believe you.”

Their eyes met briefly but he remained silent.

When he didn’t say anything she started turning around, but then his hand took her arm. The warmth from his grasp
reminded her of the night on the dance floor and she stopped walking. He didn’t let go when she turned. Their breaths, miniature puffy clouds, mingled in the air between them.

“Do you wanna get outa here—with me?” He nodded toward the parking lot. “I can take you anywhere.”

“But it’s not midnight yet.”

He let go of her arm and checked his watch. “We’ve got about twenty minutes. Let’s go greet the new year ourselves?”

Christine couldn’t believe her ears. Had she heard him correctly? She bit her lower lip then looked back at the hall.

“But Jeanne—she and Byron brought me,” she said.

“Why don’t I just tell her that I’ll take you home.” He smiled. Her heart melted. “I need to get my coat anyway.”

“All right.” She smiled back, shivering from the inside out. Was this really happening to her? But if he was fond of her, why hadn’t he talked to her since April? He had been busy and spent most of his time at Columbia. Right?

In a few minutes Jack returned, wearing his overcoat and hat. His hands were stuffed into pockets that looked full of something. He gave her his arm and she took it as he led her to his shiny Cadillac. She’d never ridden in a car so new before, and when she slid onto the seat she thought it even smelled new. Her glasses fogged up as soon as the door closed and she did her best to wipe them clean before he noticed.

Jack didn’t say a word as he started the car and drove around until they got to a hill where they could look out over Poughkeepsie. She’d never been there before but knew many couples would go out there to neck. They were too adult for that kind of behavior, but it was still romantic. There were several other cars there, windows fogged up, and the idea of what was happening in their automobiles embarrassed her.

“It’s beautiful,” she said, looking out at the city. “All the lights twinkling. And the snow.”

Jack smiled at her instead of the view. Her insides melted.

“You sure are pretty. Why haven’t I asked you on a date yet?”

Jack winked at her and pulled out a beer bottle from each overcoat pocket. He opened one and handed it to her. She took it. He opened his own and raised it to hers. They tapped them together in a toast.

“We danced last spring,” she reminded him, sounding stupid to her ears. She took a swig of the beer and grimaced. She’d never liked beer, only having had it once. Even wine never tasted quite right to her. She didn’t have the money to buy anything extra anyway, so she was glad she didn’t have a taste for it. But it would be rude not to drink it now, since he’d gotten it for her.

He took a pull from his own beer and nodded. “You’re right. I got pretty busy with school after that.” He shook his head and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “I’m an idiot apparently. Because you’re beautiful.”

She took a long gulp from the bottle, and the cold drink mixed with the heat that stirred inside of her, disorienting her thoughts. A chuckle escaped her lips at his words and she nervously took another drink.

“Try this,” he said, and handed her a silver flask.

Christine opened her mouth to ask what it was but he answered her first.

“Just a little whiskey I brought from home. Can’t celebrate the new year without a little whiskey, right?”

“I don’t know, I’ve never had any.”

“Never had any.”

Jack scooted over to the middle of the seat and put the flask to her lips and nodded for her to tip her head back. She obeyed, and the drink passed through her lips onto her tongue and burned her throat. Instantly she began coughing and sputtering. The two laughed companionably.

“I guess you’re not ready for it. Why don’t you stick with the beer.”

She thought she saw a look of annoyance in his eyes and didn’t want him to think she wasn’t as sophisticated as any other woman.

“No, I like it. Can I have another taste?”

He looked over at her and smiled. He threw his head back for a taste and then handed it to her. She took it and looked at the small spout. Her lips would touch where his lips had just been. The mouthful of liquor didn’t make her cough this time. She washed down the terrible tang with the slightly less awful beer.

She lowered the bottle and found Jack had slid a measure closer to her. He put his arm around her shoulders and his face close to hers.

“So, you came to the party with Jeanne?”

She nodded.

“She’s doing okay? You know, since Paul and all.”

Christine nodded again, focusing on trying to find her voice. The beer smell on their breath floated between them and her senses went wild.

“Jeanne’s wonderful with the children in her ward. She and Byron are real keen on each other also.” She paused. “It’s nice to see her happy.”

“He’s not one of those
campers
, is he?” His face was still incredibly close and his voice husky.

“No, Byron is part of the regular staff.” Her voice faded as she spoke. She didn’t want to talk about the C.O.’s. Eli’s face came to mind. She didn’t want to think about Eli right now. She leaned her head back and took a long drink from the bottle, realizing that it was almost gone.

“Cowards.” Jack sat up straighter and finished off his beer and took his coat off. “Aren’t you hot?”

She nodded.

“Let me help you.” He peeled off her coat and when his hand brushed against the back of her neck and hair a flood of heat rushed up her spine. She finished off the rest of her beer, thinking it would combat her physical reaction, but it only heightened it.

Jack looked at his watch.

“Looks like it’s midnight,” he said, smiling. His face was so close, all she could smell was beer and the slight scent of sweat on them both. The car was already steamed up from talking. He whispered, “Happy New Year, Christine.”

CHAPTER 9

W
hen his lips touched hers it wasn’t at all what she’d expected. Christine had been kissed before, but only twice. The first time was when she was nine and a neighbor boy had been dared to kiss her. He’d leaned forward and gave her a sloppy kiss. The only other time was when she was on her first date. A high school boy took her to the soda shop in town when they were both seventeen. Dave Munson had kissed her as gently as a summer breeze. Then his dad lost his job and they moved away and they never got to have another date.