A Song For Lisa (17 page)

“I’m pleased to meet you, Mrs. Wright,” Lisa replied,
grasping her hand with both of hers. The naturalness of their meeting allowed
Lisa to breathe easier.

“Come here, Faith,” Mrs. Wright motioned to her
granddaughter. “Say hello to Miss Carter and little Terry.”

Faith was an active child with dark brown hair and
inquisitive brown eyes. She smiled and seemed happy to meet Lisa. At first she
looked at Lisa and then at Terry with a curiosity she did not try to hide.
There was no animosity or shock, only inquisitiveness. Lisa liked her the
minute she saw her. There was a modest, almost shy, demeanor about her that was
cute and becoming. “I’m glad to meet you, Faith.”

“I remember you,” she remarked, filled with excitement.
“Daddy and I went to the Boston Pops one day and you were playing the piano.
You were wonderful. Daddy told me that he knew you. I’m taking lessons on the
piano.”

“Why thank you, Faith. I’m glad you liked it. Music has been
an important part of my life. Continue with your lessons; music has a way of
enriching our lives. I hope Terry is attracted to it, but he’s a little young
now. Your daddy has told me about you.”

“I like music but I couldn’t carry a tune in a wheelbarrow,”
Jonathon smiled.

“You take after your father, Jon,” added Mrs. Wright. “I’ve
been worried about you. When he’s overseas I’m afraid to answer the phone or
open mail from the department of the army for fear that it’s bad news.”

“Ma,” protested Jonathon. “I would have gone crazy if I did
not have the Army to occupy my time. I love the Army and am proud to be a part
of it. I know it has been rough on you and Faith, like it was on Hope. I’ll be
happy when I can get out of this bed to start my new post at the university.”

“I just started a new job at the university,” Lisa
mentioned. “So far, I like it fine. It gives me a chance to work with the new
symphony orchestra being organized. That’s been exciting. It’ll be nice having
you on campus, Jon.”

“What about the Boston Pops?” he asked.

“I was hesitant to give up my position there, but I could
not continue traveling back and forth. It was a wonderful experience and,
occasionally, I'll go back for special performances.”

“How long will it be before they fit you with your new arm?”
asked Mrs. Wright, turning to Jonathon.

“They’re working on it now, Ma. I hope to start work before
the end of second semester. My arm probably won’t be ready by then but that
won’t prevent me from functioning in the classroom.”

They were interrupted by an orderly delivering Jon’s supper.
Mrs. Wright suggested that while he was eating, the four of them could get
something to eat at the hospital cafeteria. Jon had requested that because he
did not want them to see him being spoon fed like a baby.

Before she left for the cafeteria, Lisa placed an envelope
on his food tray. He was surprised and looked into her eyes.

Lisa explained in a low voice. “This is an answer to the
letter you brought me. I’d like to share it with you. I don’t know the man’s
name or address. Would you see that he gets it?”

“You know I will,” Jon assured her. “Are you sure you want
me to read it?”

“It’s important that I share it with you,” she answered with
a wry smile. Lisa patted the cast on his right arm and left to catch up with
Mrs. Wright waiting at the door.

Jon had the orderly open the letter for him before touching
his supper.

An answer from,

To Whom It May Concern;

Colonel Wright gave me the letter you wrote. He
has proven to be a good friend. I do not know your name and he did not offer
it. My immediate reaction to the letter is relief that the suffering and agony
caused by your son has been partially mitigated. I thought that I was alone in
my despair and anger.

No one can undo what has been done. It was an
experience that is impossible to forget, but I can assure you that I have tried
to not let the incident destroy my life. The truth is, I cannot ever forgive
your son, and you should know that I in no way whatsoever, hold you
responsible. Your son made the choice and paid the consequences. I understand
and welcome your compassion, but it is unfair for a father to be blamed for the
deeds of an offspring.

I have news that may surprise you. Your son
impregnated me. Nine months later, I gave birth to a baby boy. He’s now five
and a half years old and has started the first grade. He’s alert and
intelligent and I love him dearly. His Japanese ancestry is evident. I can
share with you the fact that I agonized over the decision to have an abortion.
After carefully examining the alternatives, and the accompanying ramifications,
I decided to have the baby and have not regretted the decision.

Across the miles I say thank you for the kindness
of writing. Sharing your feelings with me has helped more than you’ll ever
know. Again, thank you.

Sincerely, Madame X

Later that evening, Lisa invited Mrs. Wright and Faith to
return to Durham with her and Terry, to stay for the night. Lisa promised to
bring them back to Portsmouth first thing in the morning. She had planned to
take Terry to the Nubble Lighthouse in York, Maine, and it was on her way. Lisa
was pleased that her offer was accepted.

Jonathon’s mother looked tired. Terry was traditionally in
bed by eight o’clock. As soon as they got to the apartment Lisa put him to bed
even though it was earlier than usual. Within seconds he was sound asleep. Faith
had solicited a promise from Lisa to play the piano before bedtime. Lisa closed
Terry’s bedroom door and walked to the piano in the living room.

“Do you have any favorites?” Lisa asked.

Faith was excited. “Oh, I love
Canadian Sunset, Mona
Lisa, Bali Ha’i
, and
Some Enchanted Evening
.”

“Those are good ones, Faith,” Lisa said, turning on the
bench. She played softly so as to not wake Terry, even though it was her style
to not hammer the keys. No matter what songs she played there was a soothing
quality to her technique. It was impossible to listen to Lisa’s playing and not
get caught up in the feelings the music portrayed. She did long medleys of the
ones Faith mentioned and several of her favorite ballads, such as
Bouquet of
Roses
, as sung by a popular country artist, Eddy Arnold. “I like his style
of singing and the way he seems to feel the songs he selects. Some of the
country music is beautiful in its plaintive, simple style.”

“You like most kinds of music then,” surmised Mrs. Wright,
sitting comfortably on the couch.

“Oh yes, there’s beauty in all forms of music. A person’s
taste may favor one style over another but the universality of music is that
all of it has the ability to touch our hearts.” Lisa turned her back to the
piano. “My guest room is always available to you, anytime you come to visit
Jonathon. What do you say if I fix us a cup of hot cocoa. I find it relaxing
before bedtime.”

“That would be nice, Lisa.” Mrs. Wright smiled in agreement.
“I didn’t expect to be so tired. I’ve been worried sick about Jon. I’m so glad
that he has a friend close by. He needs friends even though he doesn’t know
it.”

“Come on into the kitchen while I put some water on to
heat.” Lisa motioned them to the small table beside a window looking out on the
porch.

“Kitchens seem to be the place where everyone is the most
comfortable,” Mrs. Wright said, noting the orderliness of the room. “You do a
great job of keeping things neat and clean, Lisa.”

“Our kitchen at home was the favorite room, too,” Lisa
replied. “I suppose it stems from the tradition of breaking bread in
fellowship.”

Lisa warmed several cinnamon rolls and served them with the
cocoa. The three gathered around the table and became better acquainted with
each other. Mrs. Wright was especially impressed with Lisa’s casual
graciousness. She had a gift of being herself without pretense. Shortly after
drinking her cocoa and eating one of the delicious buns, Faith volunteered to
go to bed. The guest room had twin beds. Lisa showed them the bathroom and
where she stored the towels and linen. Lisa and Mrs. Wright returned to the
kitchen for a second cup of cocoa.

“Please feel free to retire whenever you want, Mrs. Wright.
Traveling and visiting can be exhausting. I saw Jon a week ago. He was much
improved today, his color was natural and he seemed to be more responsive. You
and Faith seemed to buoy his spirits. I thought that he was very positive about
his new assignment at the university.”

Jonathon’s mother sighed. Lisa saw despair on her face and
was concerned. “Jonathon has been a lost soul since the death of Hope. A part
of him died with her. I still worry about him. I know that he was drinking
heavily for a while. That was out of character for him. He rarely drank except
socially. It wasn’t the alcohol so much as it was his attitude. He just didn’t
seem to care about anything. I hope you don’t mind me sharing these things with
you,” said Mrs. Wright.

Lisa held her hands. “Of course not, Mrs. Wright. I don’t
know Jon that well, but I can tell you that he’s a son you have every right to
be proud of. I’ll always be his friend. He saved my life and the lives of my
friends and companions from a ghastly death in the prison camp. If there is
anything I can do to repay that debt, I will do it with pleasure.”

“He doesn’t talk much about his war experiences. I didn’t
even know about his Medal of Honor until one of his friends told me. Faith has
been most anxious to see him. I warned her about his arm. She’s a very mature
child for her age, but she’s worried that she’s losing him. He hasn’t been
forthcoming in his responsibility to Faith, and that still worries me,” Mrs.
Wright confided in Lisa.

“Jon told me that the move to New Hampshire will give him a
chance to be a father to Faith,” Lisa shared her conversation. “I felt that he
was sincere and was anxiously looking forward to it. She’s lucky to have you,
Mrs. Wright. Losing a mother at such a young age must be horrifying. I can’t
imagine what she must be going through.”

“Sometimes she withdraws into her music. She’s been taking
lessons for five years and is doing quite well. I haven’t known how to handle
her, because she has picked up on the fact that her father doesn’t want to care
for her,” continued Mrs. Wright, relieved to be able to talk about personal
feelings with Lisa. “I can’t say that it’s rejection. I believe that Faith
reminds Jon of the fact that Hope is gone, and I don’t know how to explain that
to her. She idolizes her father. You’re a very kind person, Lisa. The minute
you came onto the terrace today, Jon perked up. It was instantly noticeable. I
thank you for that.”

“When will you be going back to Maine?”

“I had planned to return home Saturday evening,” replied
Mrs. Wright.

“You’re welcome to stay as long as you like.”

“I appreciate your offer. I’m so glad Faith and I were able
to meet you. Now, if you don’t mind, I’m going to turn in. It’s been a long
day. You’ve been a most gracious host Lisa, goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Mrs. Wright, rest well.” Lisa showed her the
bathroom and bedroom light switches and returned to the kitchen to clean up the
table.

Unable to sleep, Lisa walked out onto the porch to sit
quietly in the cool September air. The moon sat squarely on top of the crown of
a large sugar maple tree on the lawn. Fall is her favorite time of year. The
death of summer evokes a melancholic response. She thought of snow-capped peaks
and whispering canyons and memories of her childhood in the majesty of the
White Mountains. On evenings like this, when the earth was embraced in the
solitude of the night, the silence could be overpowering.

“Solitude of the night,” she whispered softly, staring into
the dark voids of the sky. At times like this she felt alone, insignificant,
and unfulfilled. Memories of Jeff were never far from her mind. His swift
rejection of her at the end of the war still hurt, because it was based on his
hatred of Terry and all that he represented. She struggled with his denial of
support when she needed it the most. If he had truly loved her, as he had
proclaimed, then he could have adjusted somehow to Terry’s right to live.

Jeff had telephoned Lisa a couple of years after the war to
tell her that he was moving to California and was engaged to marry. He never
mentioned one word about Terry or asked how she was doing. She had
sarcastically wished him well, and true to her disposition, suffered his
insensitivity in silence and lived with the hurt. She had placed all of her
hopes and dreams for the future in Jeff, and he had gone his separate way
without a word or thought of the turmoil it created for her. She had cried for
hours.

The first two or three years after Terry was born were
difficult. She worked hard to maintain a normal home environment for Terry and
herself. Being a single parent in puritanical New Hampshire was not the easiest
thing to do, but she did it by holding her head high and never answering the
gossip mongers that live in every small town. There had been a few men who
expressed interest in her, one was a trombone player in the Boston Pops
Orchestra. She liked him and they dated a few times. As soon as he discovered
that she had a child, he fell all over himself trying to get away. She never
told him how she got pregnant. They haven’t spoken a word since.

Lisa was thirty-one years old and had resolved herself to
the fact that having a son would turn most any normal suitor away. It made her
love and protect Terry more than ever.

The next morning, Lisa insisted on preparing pancakes for
everyone. They ate together around the kitchen table. Lisa felt good about
that, it made her apartment seem more like a home. When they were finished,
Faith asked Lisa to play two of her favorite songs,
Mona Lisa
and
Bali
Ha’i
. Lisa sat at the piano and played the two songs. Faith watched every
movement of her hands.

When she was finished, Lisa asked Faith a question. “This
old piano was here in the apartment when I moved in. A couple of the keys are
off. Can you tell me which ones?”

Faith smiled at the question and sat on the stool Lisa
vacated, running through the scale. “I could be wrong, but I think G and B are
flat,” she answered.

“That’s correct, Faith,” exclaimed Lisa. “You’ve developed a
fine ear for such a young pupil. Your grandmother and father should be proud of
you.”

“We certainly are, Lisa,” admitted Mrs. Wright. “You have a
unique style on the keyboard that is most pleasing to the ear. I played for
years but arthritis curtailed my playing long ago.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Lisa said. “Your son will be
expecting you. I’m ready to leave if you are.”

“Thank you for making this trip so much easier for me,” Mrs.
Wright told her. “Your hospitality and friendship is really appreciated.”

Jonathon awoke from a restful night’s sleep and began his
morning walking exercises. The heavy and awkward cast made it more difficult,
but he was determined to maintain the muscular integrity of his legs. He walked
through the ward out toward the terrace where he could watch the river. He
could also see the parking lot for the hospital below and checked to see if his
mother’s Nash was still in the lot. On his last trip around the circuitous
route he saw Lisa stop her Studebaker next to the Nash. Faith stepped out of
the back seat taking two small suitcases from the trunk and placing them in her
grandmother’s car. Jon smiled. His daughter was growing up. He watched them talk
for a while, then, Mrs. Wright embraced Terry and Lisa. Faith kissed Terry on
the cheek and warmly embraced Lisa for a long time. He sighed thinking that
Hope’s death must have been as traumatic for Faith as it was for him. She
deserved better from her father! Jon was disappointed when he saw Lisa’s car
leave the parking lot. He waved to Faith and his mother.

Lisa and Terry visited the York Beaches and sat on a rock at
the Nubble Lighthouse, watching the restless sea smash relentlessly on the
granite shore. They watched coast guard members pull themselves across the
water that separated the lighthouse from the mainland. A strong cable was
suspended between two poles. The men rode in a wooden box with a pulley that
rolled along the cable overhead. Gravity pulled them over the roiling water to
the landing on the lighthouse island.

Terry was fascinated by the coast guardsmen as they climbed
into the tower of the lighthouse high on the ledge. He could see them working
around the large lamp at the top. Lisa explained that people stay at the
lighthouse all night to make sure that the light always shines. If it went out,
there was a danger that passing ships would hit the rocky promontory and sink.
They heard the powerful fog horn being tested by the men. It startled Terry and
he clung to his mother. She smiled at his instinctive move. He needed her and
that need gave meaning to her life.

They drove around the beaches for a couple of hours and
spent some time at the fishing docks at York Harbor watching the boats discharge
their daily catch of fish and lobsters. By two o’clock, Terry was beginning to
tire, so she headed for home. She wanted to check in on Jon before returning to
Durham. They found him sitting on the terrace in a wheelchair.

“I was expecting to see Faith and your mother,” Lisa told
him. Each time she saw him, he looked stronger.

“I’m glad you dropped in. I was disappointed when you left
this morning. Mother and Faith were pleased with your hospitality. That was
swell of you Lisa. Thanks.”

“You’re welcome,” Lisa replied modestly. “Your mom is a
wonderful lady. I enjoyed her company. Faith is a bright young lady. Her ear is
uncannily well-tuned for music. She asked me to play for her and I saw her
follow my fingers with an experienced eye. She’s a lovely girl and you’re a
lucky dad to have her.”

“She has made her dad proud,” Jon agreed. “Mom has always
been an angel. I guess that goes for most mothers. They were anxious to get
home to Monson before dark. They left mid-afternoon. Mom’s eyesight is not the
best after dark.”

“I wanted to ask if you read the note,” Lisa inquired. “I
still can’t believe it, after five years…”

“I thought your reply was heartfelt and sincere. I believe
the gentleman will be pleased to receive it. I’ve already sent it out,” answered
Jon, looking at Terry watching the boats on the river from the terrace rail.
“He’s a very well-mannered child. Is that because his mom is a schoolmarm?”

Lisa was surprised and looked into his eyes. He was teasing
her! “I think it’s possible,” she smiled.

“You should smile more often, Lisa,” Jonathon declared
unexpectedly and quickly changed the subject. “Tell me, how many students are
at the university now?”