Authors: Misha Crews
After a brief pause, Kitty shook off her melancholy and went on. “And Adam, what about you? Is there anyone special in your life?”
Jenna heard herself sputter indignantly, “Kitty!”
“What?”
“Well, I mean, Adam’s only been home for a few weeks! Give him a chance to get settled in!” It was the same thing she’d said to Stella, and it still sounded weak.
“Oh, don’t be an old stick in the mud!” Kitty waved her hand dismissively. “A good-looking fellow like Adam with a great job and a hero’s record as long as your arm — I’ll bet he’s been beating back the eligible women with a stick.”
“Or at the very least, a military-style bayonet,” Bill interjected mildly.
That made Adam laugh, although his face was flaming at Kitty’s enthusiastic praise. “Well, I’ve been working a lot, but of course — ”
“Ah! I knew there would be a ‘but of course’ coming!” Kitty leaned forward. “What’s her name and what’s she like and when can I meet her?”
“Kitty!” Now it was Bill who protested. But Kitty just waved her hand again and waited for Adam to answer her questions.
“There is a girl in the office who seems very nice,” Adam admitted. Jenna was appalled at the way her heart clenched in distress. “But she’s very young and kind of street-smart, you know? She lived in New York for a long time before coming to DC, hung out with all sorts of artsy types. I don’t think we’d find much in common.”
“It seems to me that spending time with someone artsy would be good for you. After all the ugliness you must have seen in combat, someone who knows about beauty would have a lot to offer.” Leave it to Kitty to say the perfect thing. With Kitty’s words, Jenna could sense Adam relaxing, becoming thoughtful. But for Jenna, the conversation had just become excruciating. She scrambled to think of a way to change the subject; fortunately, Bill did it for her.
“Well, Adam, in case you can’t tell from that little interrogation, we’re both very glad to have you home — especially me. I’ve been hoping for someone to help me with the final stages of my old Ford. And that reminds me, when am I going to get to take a ride in that little slice of heaven you’ve got sitting in my driveway?”
“Just say the word, my friend, and I’ll toss you the keys.” Adam grinned, looking glad for the change of subject.
Bill chuckled. “You shouldn’t tease an old man like that.”
“Who’s teasing? You want to take her for a spin right now?”
“Oh no,” Kitty said firmly. “There’s no way the two of you are going to go roaring up and down the street at this time of night!” She looked across the table. “Jenna, I think it’s time for these overgrown boys to get themselves to bed, while you and I clean up. How does that sound to you?”
To Jenna’s weary ears, it sounded wonderful.
C
HAPTER
T
WELVE
W
HILE
B
ILL AND
A
DAM RETIRED TO
the porch to have a final cigarette before bed, Kitty and Jenna washed the teacups and other dishes, and returned the leftovers of the pie to the icebox.
“I’m sure you think I was being too inquisitive with Adam tonight,” Kitty said. “I swear, as I get older, I can feel myself becoming the kind of nosy old crone that used to make me shudder when I was your age. I didn’t really mean anything by it, you know. I’m just so thankful to have him home safe, and I hope he stays put this time.”
The words mirrored so perfectly what Jenna was feeling that suddenly Kitty’s prying didn’t seem so horrendous. She kept silent as Kitty continued, “And it seems to me that if he has a job and a girl, he’s much less likely to go running all over the earth, looking for a battle to fight.”
Jenna heard herself say casually, “You’re right — with a job
and
a girl, he’ll have battles enough here at home!”
Kitty chuckled absently, then turned and looked at Jenna. “You know who you sound like?”
“Who?” Jenna was almost afraid to ask.
“Bud. That’s exactly the kind of joke that Bud would have made.” Kitty resumed washing her teacup, keeping her eyes studiously on the sink. “I know this is going to sound strange, but sometimes, when we’re all together like tonight, I can feel him in the room. Bud. And Denny, too. When we’re all together, it’s almost like they’re still with us.”
“I know.” Jenna took the last cup from Kitty and dried it. “I feel the same thing.”
“Do you?” Kitty’s dark eyes probed Jenna’s gray ones, until Jenna could feel herself start to flush. To Jenna’s surprise, Kitty reached out and hugged her. Jenna tried to return the hug, but neither one of them was much good at demonstrating affection. Although the embrace was awkward and short-lived, when it was over, Jenna was left with the feeling that something momentous had happened.
Kitty’s manner became brisk, as if she too were anxious to gloss over the emotional moment. “I’ll finish up in here. You go on up to bed.”
On impulse, Jenna stooped to kiss Kitty’s cheek before she left the room. Kitty barely seemed to notice. But as Jenna turned away, she knew that she had seen tears glimmering in Kitty’s eyes.
* * *
To maintain the semblance of normality, Jenna poked her head out of the front door and said goodnight to Bill and Adam, admonishing them not to stay up too late and not to smoke too much. Then she went upstairs.
She had been looking forward to this moment — solitude, and the blessed oblivion of sleep — since Kitty had invited her to stay the night. But of course, once she was in bed, she found that sleep was impossible. She lay on her back in the same bed where she had spent those hellish nights after Bud died. Next to her on the wide mattress, Christopher’s breath was deep and even. She turned her head to look at him. His face was angelic in the pale moonlight that peeked in from around the curtains. She turned away again and stared up at the ceiling.
This had been Bud’s room when he was a child. It had been different then, of course — cowboy wallpaper, a single bed, shelves cluttered with toys. When she and Bud had married, Kitty had turned this into a guestroom, delighting in installing a full-sized mattress and flowery paintings on the wall. Denny was already gone by that time, his bedroom carefully preserved as it had been when last he’d slept there. His bedroom door remained closed, the room empty, like a hole in the heart that wouldn’t be filled. After Bud died, Jenna had occasionally wondered if Kitty ever regretted her redecorating, ever wished for the chance to restore this room to the way it had been before.
But of course, Kitty didn’t need an old bedroom to preserve Bud’s memory. She had Christopher for that.
Jenna got up abruptly. Never in her life had she been able to stand lying sleepless in a bed, her idle muscles itching for activity, her mind going around in circles. She needed to go downstairs and sit on the porch for a while. She knew from experience that the fresh air would do her good, that soon she’d feel her muscles relax and her eyelids droop, and that when she returned to bed, sleep would come with the ease of an old friend.
Being careful to move quietly to not disturb her son, Jenna took off the nightgown that Kitty had loaned her and slipped her own clothes back on. She went gently down the old staircase and along the hallway, holding her breath as she passed the open door of the living room, where Adam had been assigned his sleeping place. She opened the front door, and with a grateful sigh, she moved out of the house and into the cool spring air.
Crossing the porch, she leaned up against one of the columns and stared out across the lawn. Across the railroad tracks, she could see scant lights twinkling in the valley below, where a few farmhouses had left their porch lights on. Bill had predicted that some day the whole valley would be full of houses and shops, but Jenna had a hard time believing it. Where would they get people to live in all those houses?
A board in the porch creaked as if under the weight of a heavy foot, and Jenna turned quickly to see who was sneaking up on her.
“Adam!” Jenna didn’t know whether to be relieved or angry. “What are you doing, creeping around in the middle of the night? You scared me to death.”
His face was cast in shadow, so that all Jenna could see was his square jaw and strong shoulders. “I could say the same thing to you about creeping around. I’ve been sitting out here since everyone went to bed. You didn’t see me when you came out.”
He leaned against the opposite side of the pillar, in an unconscious imitation of her posture. She could no longer see him at all, but she could feel his presence, large and magnetic. “Sorry I gave you a fright,” he said.
“It’s all right.”
When Adam spoke next, his voice was forceful but not angry, and barely above a whisper. “We need to clear the air between us. As I see it, there’s no cause for us to be pussyfooting around the truth. Things have happened that we didn’t plan, but that’s the way of life. We exchanged some harsh words at the party, and although I don’t feel the need to pick apart everything that was said, there’s one thing I do owe you an answer for.”
She crossed her arms over her chest, for security as much as for warmth. “Go on.”
He spoke in a rush, as if he had to say this very quickly or not at all. “Someone recently told me that I’m brave, and I guess that maybe I’ve done some bold things in my life. But when it comes to you, I’ve always been a coward. You’re right, I could have requested a transfer after Bud died. I don’t know if it would have been granted, but I could have at least tried. For that matter, I could have told you how I felt about you years ago — before you even married Bud. I could have done a million things differently, and maybe the two of us would be married by now. Maybe then I could claim my son as my own.”
He slid his hand up the pillar, until his fingers came into contact with the bare flesh over her elbow. She kept her eyes on the valley, but every nerve in her body was focused on his softly questing fingers.
Adam went on, unaware of what his simple gesture had done. “It was always my intention to come back here and marry you. But there were other things I had to do — or
thought
I had to do. There was Korea, first of all, and then there was the earthquake in Greece. After that, I tried to get transferred to the States, but the best I could do was go back to Panama. That was the closest I could get to you, without actually coming home. I’ll have to live with the results of my choices, but I wanted you to know those things now, even if it is too late.”
He paused, then continued gently. “What I said earlier tonight about Christopher was true, so it bears repeating: that’s a nice boy you’ve got there, Jenna.” She stiffened slightly. “I don’t want to make you self-conscious,” he added hurriedly. “I just wanted say that I think — I think we have a fine son.”
Her heart gave a little flutter at the word “we.” She steeled herself to be firm. She had to define her position now, for everyone’s sake. “Thank you,” she said. “But in my heart, Christopher is Bud’s child. Frank will be his stepfather, and he’ll be a good one.”
Adam nodded slowly. “I understand. But that doesn’t make things any easier for me.”
“I know.” The silence between them grew, full of words that she couldn’t say. “Adam….”
He shifted slightly. “You know, I’m feeling kind of restless. I think I’ll take a walk before heading back to bed.”
Before she knew it, he had brushed by her and was walking down the steps. But at the bottom of the stairs, he turned and held out his hand.
“Care to join me?”
C
HAPTER
T
HIRTEEN
“
Y
OU’RE NOT THE ONLY ONE WHO
regrets the things that were said the other day.” Jenna spoke softly for fear that her words would carry on the night air. She and Adam had reached the end of the drive and were turning right to walk down Lee Street. Jenna wasn’t altogether sure she should be taking this walk, but Adam was right: they needed to clear the air.
Crickets sang shrilly in the tall, sweet-smelling grass that grew along the railroad tracks. Beneath the leafy trees, the street was shadowed, making it hard to see where they were going. But Adam walked through the dark with confidence, and she tried to match his self-assurance step for step as she continued speaking. “I shudder when I think of the way I went after you. It was just the surprise of seeing you that did it. It caught me off-guard.”
“I know. I wish Kitty had told you that I was coming. Otherwise I would have called you myself.”
“It’s not Kitty’s fault. It’s mine.”
Adam stopped walking. “How do you figure that?”
“I should have answered your letters.” Jenna twisted her hands together. “I don’t know if I could have told you the truth about Christopher — I’m not that brave — but I should have at least had the nerve to tell you that I was engaged. After our night together, you had every right to expect me to wait for you.”
The silence stretched again. Jenna couldn’t make out Adam’s features, but she could sense him waiting, thinking. At last he started forward again, and she kept pace. “I don’t have any right to expect anything from you,” he said at length. “And you’re braver than you give yourself credit for.”