Secrets of the Red Box (33 page)

He circled her shoulders with his arm. “I know, but just in case…”
Burying her face against his chest she pulled back a sob. “No, don’t even say it. Don’t even think
it.”
He stroked her back for reassurance. “Ten thousand dollars is a lot of money, and I’d feel a lot
better knowing you was taken care of…just in case.”
Luther motioned for an approaching taxi, and it pulled up to the curb. He gave her a quick kiss
and the couple climbed inside.
///////
Bonnie repositioned herself beside Luther. He was already awake when she opened her eyes.
“Good morning, darling,” she said, snuggling closer to him. “Have you been awake long?”
“A few minutes,” he replied, bringing his arm from beneath his head to rest across Bonnie’s
form. “Are you sure you won’t go to Iowa to live with my folks? It’d be a lot easier on you.”
Bonnie levered up on her elbow and stared at him. “No, I want to stay. I want to be here to
meet you the minute you get home. I want to be near the ocean so I can hear it and feel you close to
me when I look at it. And you can look out over the ocean from your ship and know that I’m on
this shore waiting for you.”
He smiled, closed his eyes, and sighed. “I like the sound of that.”
She laid her head on his chest. “Your mama sounded so nice on the phone yesterday,” Bonnie
said. “I think she likes me now.”
He drew back so he could see her face. “Like you? She loves you, and so does Dad. Oh, I know
they was a little shocked that we got married last week, but I think they’re used to idea now.”
Bonnie moaned softly and tucked her arm around his waist. “Ican’t believe this is our last day
together. It came so fast.”
Luther fell silent. He stroked her hair and closed his eyes. “Before I met you, I was so scared to
go into battle. I didn’t see how I’d be able to do it, how I’d have the courage. And then you come
along and changed everything. I’m not afraid anymore. I’ll be fighting for you, Bonnie. I’ll be
fighting to make it home to you. And every day, I’ll be thinking of you…wanting you…”
She hushed him with her lips, clung to him with all her strength. They had so little time now, so
few hours before he would be sailing away from her. “Be as careful as you can, Luther. Don’t do
anything foolish.”
“I won’t,” he murmured. “I’m glad you’re going to take a bigger apartment with my allotment
money. This is such a tiny room.”
“And you’ll remember to use my post office box for your letters, won’t you? I wouldn’t want
one of them to get lost during the move.”
“I’ve got it,” he said. “The same number your allotment checks go to.”
“Oh, let’s not talk about that sort of thing today,” she said with a slight pout.
“I won’t be able to sleep tomorrow night without you by my side.”
Bonnie got out of bed and reached for her robe. “No more about this,” she said sternly. “You’re
going to make me cry, and I’ll be crying all day tomorrow as it is.”
Luther crawled across the bed and stood behind her. He pulled her against him, wrapping his
arms around her. “Okay, no more talk about sad things. What should we do today?”
Bonnie curled her hands around his forearm. “It’s nearly three o’clock now. I’m starving. We
haven’t eaten since yesterday.”
“All right,” he said and kissed her neck. “Let’s get dressed and we’ll go eat. Let’s make it
someplace special.”
“I know a great little place for Chinese food. Do you like Chinese?”
He reached for his pants. “Don’t know. I’ve never had it before.”
Bonnie turned to face him. “You’ve never eaten Chinese food?”
He gave her a blank stare. “Nope. I’m from Albert City, Iowa, remember? The closest thing to
China we got there is silk stockings.”
Bonnie laughed. “Silk stockings?”
“Yeah. Don’t they grow silk in China?”
Bonnie angled her head. “They don’t
grow
silk. It’s spun from silkworm cocoons.”
He screwed up his face as if he didn’t believe her. “Okay, fine. Anyway, I think Chinese food is
too close to Jap food. Can we go somewhere else?”
Bonnie didn’t feel like arguing with him. She didn’t want to point out how varied the cuisine was
between China and Japan. She shrugged. “Sure. It doesn’t matter.”
Luther’s shoulders fell. He looked remorseful as he took her hands. “Look, we’ll have Chinese.
If that’s what you want, then that’s what we’ll have. Okay, angel?”
She kissed his nose. “Okay.”
“And who knows—maybe I’ll like it, even if it is slant-eye food.”
///////
Bonnie stood among hundreds of civilians clinging to their sailors for as long as possible. She
held onto Luther in the jostling crowd, her fingers gripped tight around his neck. They were
surrounded by sorrowful cries, muffled against the sailors’ tunics as the tearful women buried their
faces. There was a collective, throbbing ache felt by every person on the pier, an ache that reached
into the pits of their stomachs and reminded them they might never see one another again. There
were those who put on a cheerful face, who make a joke, or offered a nervous laugh, ignoring the
real possibility that these could be their last few moments together.
“I don’t want to say goodbye,” she said.
Luther sniffed and cupped her face. “No, we won’t say goodbye, angel. This isn’t goodbye.”
The boatswain’s pipe called the men aboard ship. With reluctance, the sailors began to peel away
from their loved ones and started for the gangplank.
Luther picked up his sea bag and kissed Bonnie one last time. “I’ll see you later,” he said wi th a
smile. He turned from her and merged into the funneling throng of sailors.
Bonnie lifted her hand to wave, but he didn’t look back. She watched as he melded into the
throng, merged with all the others who slung their sea bags over their shoulders and bravely faced
their fate.
She waited until she could no longer make him out in the crowd of like-dressed men, all sporting
the same sailor’s cap and bulky sea bag. She thought she saw him as he climbed the steep grade of
the gangplank, and she waved periodically in case he was looking for her. But she couldn’t tell if he
could see her in the crowd any longer. She stood there with all the others, waiting until the last man
boarded and the gangplank was removed. She stood there and watched as the men lined up along
the deck, each vying for position to throw kisses and wave goodbye. She stood there until the ship
groaned away from the dock and began to move. She stood there until the destroyer slid toward the
horizon and disappeared.

Bonnie had taken a day off from work to pack. Tomorrow she and Glen would move into their
new house, with the welcome help of the Ortons. She’d collected empty boxes from the grocers and
was prepared to begin. She fastened her hair in a ponytail, wore an old pair of dunga rees, and started
with the kitchen.

For five straight hours, Bonnie worked feverishly to wrap, pack, bundle, and box the kitchen,
living room, and bathroom. When she walked into the bedroom, she sat on the edge of the bed for a
brief rest and stared into the open closet. Her gaze floated up to the shelf of hat boxes, and to one
in particular—the one containing the red leather box. Bonnie’s heart began to drum. She’d meant to
throw it out months ago. Between mourning the loss of the baby and the fact that she was seldom
home without Glen, an opportunity hadn’t presented itself. Now was the perfect chance to be rid of
the thing once and for all.

As she took down the hatbox, her fingers began to tremble. How she despised the red box and
all the ugliness it contained. She loathed the torrent of memories that assaulted her as she took it in
her hands, aware of how little Glen really knew of her. She hated that most of all—that she had
hidden so much from him, had taken his love in exchange for her dulled conscience.

Behind the small apartment building, where the tenants parked their cars, stood a 55 -gallon
drum used to burn leaves and yard debris, along with several trash cans. Bonnie grabbed a book of
matches and went downstairs, her pulse throbbing in her throat. She felt exposed taking the box
outside, as though anyone who saw it would know what it contained.

Adrenalin charged through her veins and she began to feel queasy, a sheen of sweat sprouting on
her face. When she reached the back door of the building and opened it, she heard the sound of an
approaching car. For a split-second she froze, unsure what to do. Should she continue, or turn back?
What if it was someone she knew? Would she have to explain what she was doing? She was being
ridiculous, and shook her head to clear away the irrational thoughts. With a calming breath, Bonnie
started for the drum.

The front fender of Glen’s car inched into the parking lot, and Bonnie’s heart seized. She spun
to the nearest trash can, lifted the lid, and threw the box inside, crashing down the lid in a fit of
jangled nerves. She pivoted toward his car and dredged up a smile.

Glen waved, cut the engine, and got out. “Hi, babe.”
“You’re home early,” she said, feeling as though she might suffocate.
He came toward her, loosening his tie. “I thought I’d come home and help pack. It was pretty

slow today anyway.”
She grappled for a sense of calm. “That’s so sweet. I could use the help.”
He kissed her and grinned, swiping his finger across her brow. “Looks like you’ve been working

hard,” he said. “You’re all sweaty.”
“Yeah,” she said. “I’ve been working since you left. I came down to see if I could scrounge up
some extra newspaper for packing. Thought there might be some in the trash. No luck, though.”
He opened the building door, held it for her, then went inside. As Bonnie climbed the back
stairs, her knees turned to rubber. She gripped the banister, feeling as though she might melt into a
puddle. But at least the box was gone. A gradual sense of relief overtook her nerves. She wa s finally
rid of it.
///////
Moving day felt like controlled chaos. Glen stayed at the apartment to orchestrate there, after
taking Bonnie to the house so she could direct the furniture and marked boxes to the appropriate
rooms. Beneath the turmoil, Glen was excited. His life had come together in a way he’d never
dreamed. He had a job he enjoyed, a new house, and a wife he adored beyond measure. He still
thought about the miscarriage from time to time, and the hole it had left in his heart. But he was
grateful Bonnie had physically endured the ordeal and was returning to normal. After they were
settled, they could start thinking about adoption.
Boxes and small items were loaded into Ralph’s station wagon, while Don’s truck served as the
vehicle of choice for the rest. They’d made a few trips to the house when Glen stopped on the way
back to buy hamburgers for the men. They sat on the floor of the apartment to enjoy a rest. When
they finished, Glen collected the wrappings and paper sacks and headed down to the trash.
“Hey,” Don called with a teasing grin. “You could at least take a box down with you.”
Glen laughed. “I paid for the burgers,” he said. “I get one pass.”
He jogged down the back stairs behind Ralph, whose arms were wrapped around a box.
“Almost done,” he said, waiting for Ralph to clear the door.
“Yeah,” Ralph said, heading for the truck. “Thanks again for lunch.”
Glen walked backwards as he spoke. “Hey, I owe you guys for all your help.”
“Don’t worry,” Ralph said, hoisting the box inside the truck. “We’ll get you back one of these
days.”
Glen still had the lunch sacks in his hand. He felt his calf hit one of the trash cans. He turned
and lifted the lid. When he glanced down, he saw a leather-covered box. He recognized it as the one
belonging to Bonnie, the one he’d seen before they were married. Glen picked it up and tried the
lock. It wouldn’t open. He shook it to see if it was empty, but when he did, he heard something
knocking against the sides.
Assuming the red box had been thrown out by mistake, Glen went to the truck and opened the
flaps of the nearest moving box. There wasn’t room inside. He refolded the flaps and tried another.
The second box held his uniforms and some old high school things, and there was room to slip the
red box in along the side. Glen snugged the treasure beside a uniform and fastened the carton
closed.
///////
The September air exhaled a frosted breath as Bonnie rushed into Kirkendall’s, dashed up the
stairs and joined Irene at the switchboard. “Thanks for covering for me,” Bonnie said, shrugging off
her coat. “I hope it hasn’t been too bad. The doctor was running behind.”
Irene nodded and completed the connection of the incoming call. She spun toward Bonnie and
smiled. “It’s been slow this morning,” she said. “Everything okay?”
Bonnie sat in her chair and reached for her headset. Her hand paused in mid-air as she
considered her answer. If anyone would understand it would be Irene. “Sort of,” she said.
Irene’s forehead crinkled like an old piece of parchment, her eyes narrowing. “What do you
mean?”
Bonnie pressed her lips together and turned to face Irene. She clasped her hands in her lap and
studied her fingers for a moment. She inhaled deeply and let out a long breath. “I’m pregnant.”
Before Irene could say anything, Bonnie’s eyes filled with tears and she grabbed Irene’s hand. “I’m
terrified, Irene. I don’t want to lose this baby—I couldn’t go through that again. And Glen…I don’t
know what to tell him…
if
I should tell him, at least not for a little while longer.”
Irene’s expression registered Bonnie’s fear. “Of course you need to tell Glen.”
“But what if—”
“What if,” Irene interrupted, “you’re able to carry the baby full term? What does the doctor
say?”
Bonnie reached for a tissue from the box near the switchboard. “He says there’s no guarantee—
not with my history. He told me to take it easy, try not to overdo…” She blotted her tears away and
peered into Irene’s kind eyes. “I want this baby, Irene—more than anything in the world.”
Irene reached out and cupped Bonnie’s chin in her palm. “I know you do. I think it would be
wise for you to speak with Mr. Hammond—take a leave of absence so you can stay home and rest.”
“Leave Kirkendall’s? Leaveyou?”
“If it lets you keep the baby, absolutely.”
Bonnie thought for a minute. She would do whatever it took to carry her baby to term. She
nodded and clasped Irene’s hands. “You’re right. I’ll talk to Glen and then Mr. Hammond.”
Irene smiled, her face warm and maternal. “And I don’t want you worrying about anything. I’ll
talk to my girls and we’ll help out with your housework and meals.” Bonnie opened her mouth to
protest, but Irene raised her hand. “Not a word,” Irene said firmly. “I won’t have any argument
about it. We’re family, and we take care of each other.”
Tears sprang from Bonnie’s eyes. Overwhelmed with love for this woman and her new family,
Bonnie wrapped her arms around Irene’s neck and hugged her. “Oh, Irene…I love you.”
Bonnie realized that she hadn’t spoken those words to Irene before, and by the look on Irene’s
face, it seemed as though they had touched her deeply. Irene wiped a tear away from Bonnie’s cheek
and smiled. “I love you too.”
The switchboard suddenly came to life, and the two women swiveled around to their work. For
the remainder of the day Bonnie tried to keep her thoughts corralled. They wavered between
moments of desperation and hope, fear and elation. She tried not to dwell on the possibility of
another miscarriage, kept focused on her work. How she would survive the hours of confinement at
home seemed daunting. She was never very good at doing nothing; it drove her crazy to sit around.
But if it allowed her a chance to keep her baby, she’d do it and find something acceptable to occupy
her time.
When she got home, Bonnie waited for Glen. She knew he’d worry about her now, would hate
leaving her every day. He was like that, protective and tender-hearted. She could still see the look on
his face when she’d awakened in the hospital after the miscarriage. His eyes were so filled with pain
and regret and worry. She prayed he would be spared of that again, that they both would.
She heard Glen’s car pull into the driveway and went to the back door. She felt her hands
trembling and took a deep breath to calm her nerves. Making her expression as blank as possible,
she greeted him with a forced smile.
Glen closed the door behind him and stopped to look at her. His brows drew together. Bonnie
guessed she hadn’t done a very good job of hiding her emotions. “What’s wrong?” he asked.
Bonnie swallowed and took his hand. “Come and sit down.”
Glen blinked and seemed to visibly pale. “Bonnie, what’s the matter?”
She led him to the sofa and took a seat, waiting for him to join her. Inhaling a breath of courage,
she peered into his liquid brown eyes and felt herself drowning in them. Bonnie grasped his hands
and felt her fingers shill shaking. Her mouth went dry. “Glen, I’ve been to see the doctor twice now.
I didn’t want to worry you until I knew for sure—”
Glen’s grip tightened and he leaned into her. “Worry me—Bonnie, what is it?”
Bonnie could tell she probably hadn’t prefaced the situation well. She attempted a smile. “I’m
pregnant.”
Glen’s anxious expression dissolved into a radiant smile. He pulled her into his arms. “Oh,
Bonnie…you had me thinking there was something wrong.”
She leaned back, her heart pounding. “What if it happens again? What if—”
He stopped her with a kiss. Glen’s fingers tangled in her hair as the kiss deepened. It was as if he
could erase her trepidation, cloud her thoughts with his hunger. In his kiss she felt of his strength,
the courage he gave her. Glen pressed his forehead to hers, his hands still enmeshed in her hair.
“Whatever happens, we’ll get through it,” he whispered. “Together.”
///////