Secrets of the Red Box (23 page)

Bonnie fed the kitten and started up the stairs to the kitchen. The door at the top of the stairs
was slightly ajar and she could hear Irene and Don talking. She heard her name and paused on the
steps, listening, her breath stilted.
“She looked half scared,” Don said quietly. “She wasn’t comfortable, that’s for sure.”
Bonnie heard a coffee cup clink into its saucer. “Maybe their relationship ended badly,” Irene
suggested. “If there even was a relationship. I’d be a little uncomfortable too.”
“I guess.” Don sighed. “Don’t get me wrong, I think Bonnie’s wonderful. She’s just a little…I
don’t know. There’s just something different about her.”
“She’s very private,” Irene said as she tapped her spoon against the cup. “Almost guarded, but
there’s nothing wrong with that. Lots of people prefer not to talk about themselves.”
“Unlike you, who’d tell a complete stranger if you had a boil on your butt.” Don chuckled.
“You’re a pretty open book.”
“Not
that
open,” she replied with a laugh.
“But what about that nursing school thing?”
“What about it?”
“She never mentioned it to you?”
“No. Does it matter? I mean, I never told Bonnie I didn’t finished high school. I’m not really
proud of that—maybe she’s not, either.”
Bonnie eased up a step closer to the door and waited. She heard Don get up from the table. “I
suppose,” he said, walking across the floor to the sink. “I’m just glad we’re able to help her out.”
Irene’s chair scooted across the floor. “Me too. There’s something about her that just stirs my
maternal heart. I can’t really explain it. I just feel like she’s all alone in the world.”
Bonnie heard the rustle of clothes and a kissing sound. “You’re a good woman, Irene.”
Bonnie took her cue and finished climbing the last stairs to push the door open. “Good
morning,” she called out as Don headed for the kitchen door.
“Gotta run,” Don said as he passed her. “Have a good day, you two.”
“Bye,” she said, then turned to the coffee pot.
Bonnie’s mind was filled with their conversation. She
was
alone in the world. Whether by choice
or circumstance, the result was the same. A familiar ache centered in her heart as she poured her cup
of coffee. She’d always felt alone…every day of her life. And then there were Irene’s maternal
feelings toward Bonnie, ones Bonnie had felt from her, that had reminded her of her own mother.
That was dangerous too, she realized. She might be tempted to disclose something she’d regret later
on.
///////
Bonnie was desperate now to find an apartment. She called every day during her lunch hour,
checked the want ads, and asked people at Kirkendall’s if they knew of any availableplace. It wasn’t
until she returned to Edna’s that she received some good news.
Edna waved a card at Bonnie as she and Irene entered the shop. “Bonnie! I’ve been waiting for
you. Oh, I wish I had your phone number…” She rushed to meet the two women. “Remember the
apartment that was for rent, the one you called on before?”
Bonnie nodded and glanced at Irene. Edna pushed the card into her hand. “It’s available again at
the end of next month. I guess the renters need to move out of state or something. Anyway, when
he came in to post the vacancy, Igrabbed it and didn’t let anyone else see it.”
Bonnie took the card and tapped it against her wrist. “The end of next month,” she said
doubtfully, biting the inside of her cheek. “I was hoping to find something sooner.”
Irene pressed her hand to Bonnie’s shoulder. “You should grab it, Bonnie. You know how hard
it’s been to find a place that allows pets. Next month will be here before you know it. And honestly,
Don and I don’t mind a bit. We’ve enjoyed having you around. It’s been like having one of our own
kids back home.”
Bonnie wanted the apartment—she wanted it more than anything—but waiting almost six more
weeks seemed daunting. It was true, Irene and Don had been kind and enjoyable to be around, but
the nagging need to get away precluded that.
“And this time I asked for the address,” Edna said with excitement. “It’s in a nice area.”
Irene glanced at the address Edna had scribbled on the card. “That’s on our way to work,” she
exclaimed, throttling Bonnie’s arm. “I could give you a ride!”
Bonnie didn’t want to ride with Irene. It would be too much, she thought, too much temptation
to talk to her, let things slip out, because Irene
was
easy to talk to and never seemed to judge her. It
had been difficult enough as it was, Bonnie decided. She couldn’t let Irene continue being her
chauffeur. “Well, we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it,
if
we come to it,” she amended. “I
haven’t exactly got the apartment yet.”
“No one else knows about it,” Edna added. “I asked him. So call right now. You can use my
phone.”
Irene nodded and gently pushed Bonnie toward the counter. “That’s a great idea, Edna.”
Bonnie looked at the two women, their mature faces filled with confidence and assurance.
Maybe this apartment was her only chance to get out of the Orton’s, even if it would take another
six weeks. She certainly hadn’t had any luck otherwise. She reached for the phone and dialed the
number on the card.
Irene and Edna clasped hands, standing beside Bonnie as she spoke. They looked like eager
cheerleaders waiting for the star quarterback to throw the game-winning touchdown pass. Bonnie
almost chuckled at them as the ringing phone sounded in her ear.
“Hello? Yes, I’m calling about the apartment you posted at Edna’s Pet—yes, that’s the one. Yes,
I understand it won’t be available right away…the first of November. How much is the rent? Plus
utilities…yes, Ihave a cat…oh, a twenty-dollar deposit…no, I could do that. When would be a good
time to see the apartment?” She looked at Irene and grinned. “Saturday?” Irene nodded. “Yes, that
would be fine…Bonnie Cooper. I’ll see you then. Thank you.” She hung up and smiled at the two
women.
Irene and Edna burst into a cheer, clapping their hands and doing their version of jumping up
and down. “You’re celebrating a bit early, aren’t you?” Bonnie asked.
“I’ve got a feeling,” Irene breathed.
“Me too,” Edna added. “You’ll get it.”
///////
Bonnie was pleased with the inspection of the apartment, smaller than the one at the Drake, but
adequate for her needs. She placed a deposit down on it for occupancy the first of November and
paid the twenty-dollar pet fee. She was feeling somewhat relieved that she’d soon have an apartment
of her own again, but six weeks was still a long time to live with the Ortons.
“Thanks again for bringing me,” she said to Irene as they climbed back into Irene’s car. “It looks
like a nice place.”
Irene shut her car door and started the engine. “It does. I think you and Baby Girl will be happy
there.”
“We will,” she said with a nod. “I don’t know what I’d do without all your help.”
Irene pulled out to the street. “Speaking of help, I could use yours,” she said, keeping her eyes
on the road.
Bonnie would do almost anything for Irene, she decided, especially after everything she had
done for her. “I’d be glad to. What is it?”
“I got a call last night from my brother-in-law,” she said with a cheerful tone. “His son, my
nephew Glen, is coming home. Al wants a welcome-home dinner for him next week and he asked if
I’d host it. He’s all alone there and wouldn’t know the first thing about planning a party, much less
host one. Of course I told him I’d be thrilled to do it, and I could really use your help.”
For a moment Bonnie flinched at the idea of a family party, but then she had to remind herself
that she not only knew most of Irene’s family, but she owed them a huge debt of gratitude. “You
can count on me. I’ll be happy to help.”
Irene smiled at Bonnie, then turned her eyes back to the road. “Good, I knew you would. Glen
and his younger brother Sam were my sister’s boys. She died when Glen was, oh, about ten years
old, I think. His father did his best to raise the boys by himself, but you know it’s just not the same
when there’s no mother in the house. Glen and Sam used to spend a lot of their summers with us.
They loved playing with my kids and we loved having them.”
They drove a few blocks and Irene picked up the conversation again. “Glen’s a nice young man.
He’s a little shy, I’d say, hasn’t married yet. But I expect that’ll all change now that the war is over
and he’s home safe and sound.”
“Aside from your immediate family, how many others will you be expecting?”
Irene put her elbows on the steering wheel so she could use her fingers to count. “Let’s see.
There will be my sixteen, counting me and Don, then Al, that’s Glen’s dad, Glen…” Irene had to
put one hand back on the steering wheel. “You keep track,” she said, straightening the course of the
straying vehicle. “Glen’s brother, Sam, is still in Japan. He’s in the Navy and was tapped to stay on
there for a few months, but Sam’s wife, Virginia, and their daughter, Violet, will be there. Then my
brother, Jake, his wife, Margaret, and their two daughters, their husbands, and…seven kids…” She
turned her gaze back to Bonnie. “How many are we up to?”
Bonnie snorted. “Are you sure you shouldn’t rent a gymnasium or something? I think that’s
about thirty-three people.”
“Did you count yourself?”
Bonnie held up a hand. “No. I’m happy to help, but I’d feel—”
“You’d feel like part of the family,” Irene said with resolve. “And I won’t take no for an answer.
So that makes it thirty-four people for dinner. I usually put as many of the children as I can at the
tables, then the adults can fix a plate and find a place to sit wherever…”
Bonnie knew she’d lose any argument with Irene over attending the party and resigned herself to
the gathering. Suddenly Irene let out a little yip. “Oh, I almost forgot Aunt Ada! She’s my aunt on
my mother’s side. She must be near ninety now. I haven’t seen her in a few months. She lives in
Lincoln, so she probably won’t come, but I’d feel awful if she weren’t invited.”
“That’s a lot of people to cook for,” Bonnie said. “Are you sure you wouldn’t rather do cake and
ice cream instead of a whole dinner?”
Irene inclined her head. “That’s a nice thought, but we’re a dinner kind of family. We like to
eat.”
“Why not do something simple, then?” Bonnie suggested. “Like hot dogs for the kids and
spaghetti for the adults? Throw in some salad, some garlic bread, and you won’t have to do quite so
much cooking or cleaning up.”
Irene’s eyes brightened behind her glasses. “You know, that’s a splendid idea! Glen served most
of the war in Italy. We could make it a theme! And I think hot dogs sound great for the kids. I’ll bet
they’d take a hot dog over most anything else.”
“We can have the women each bring a pot of spaghetti sauce or some hot dogs and buns.”
“This is great,” Irene said, slowing for a yellow light. “When we get home, we’ll sit down and
make up an assignment list, then some calls and get the ball rolling.” She brought the car to a stop,
turned toward Bonnie, and smiled. “Thank you for coming up with such a creative idea. Ilove it.”
“I’m glad you thought it was helpful.”
Irene laughed. “And you know what? We’ll do it all over again when Glen’s brother comes
home.”
///////
Glen exited the train and stood on the platform. He peered through the crowd of people,
looking for his father. It had been over three years since he’d seen him, three years since he’d set
foot in Omaha. He felt an odd mix of anxiety and reluctance churn in his gut. He was home, but it
was the last place on earth he wanted to be.
He thought about Amy, leaving her alone—leaving her when he might have stayed, might have
tried to make her love him. At least he wouldn’t be alone anymore, wouldn’t feel so desperately
empty. All he wanted was what Charlie had had, a love so real, so deep that it lasted beyond the
grave. Was there anything wrong with that? But then he knew it would have been a sort of betrayal
to Charlie’s memory. It wasn’t that Amy didn’t deserve to be loved again, but he realized it had to be
Amy’s choice. He might have been able to coast along on the strength of Charlie’s love for her, been
a substitute for her dead husband. But that wouldn’t have been fair to either of them. And so now
he stood facing an uncertain future, waiting for his life to begin.
Someone came up behind him and tapped Glen on the shoulder. He only vaguely turned, fearful
of missing his father. From the corner of his eye he saw the rumpled suit, and the familiar stooped
shoulders. “Dad!” he said, spinning now to see his father. “Where’d you come from?”
“Hi, son,” he said with a laugh. He threw his arms around Glen. “I called your name, but I guess
you couldn’t hear me.”
Al Taggart’s eyes filled with tears, his hand clamped over Glen’s shoulder. “I’m so glad you’re
home,” he said. “I’m proud of you, son.”
Glen studied his father’s face, peering into his whiskey brown eyes, the same color he shared
with his father. “I’m sorry I didn’t get here sooner.”
“I understand. Did you get everything taken care of in Montana?” he asked.
“Sure,” he replied, picking up his bag. “I’ll tell you all about it when we get home.”
Al shook his head as they started to walk. “I can’t believe you’re really here.”
“It’s good to see you too, Dad. Have you heard from Sam?”
Al nodded as he veered toward his 1937 Ford Model 47. “Got a letter just last week. He expects
to be about six months more before they let him come home. Virginia and Violet are doing well—in
fact, you’ll be seeing them this Sunday. Your aunt Irene is giving you a welcome-home dinner.”
Glen pulled a face. “She doesn’t need to go to all that trouble.”
“Well, I asked if she’d handle it for me, but you know your aunt Irene,” Al said with a chuckle.
He opened the car door and paused with a foot just inside. “She loves those big get-togethers. And
everyone is anxious to see you. It’s been a long time.”
Glen threw his bag into the back seat of the two-door and joined his father inside the car. “I
know. It’ll be good to see everyone again.”
Al let out a breath and looked at his son. “I still can’t get over the fact that you’re home.” Tears
welled in his eyes again. “I prayed for you…every day…”
Glen nodded and gave a little smile. “Thanks, Dad. Iwas one of the lucky ones.”
Al lowered his head. “I’m sorry about your friend Charlie, son. Tough break.”
“Yeah, tough break.”