Authors: Keira Andrews
“That’s very understandable. You have to move on in your own time, Jim.”
Move on.
Would he ever be able to move on from Cal? How could he? He looked at Rebecca. Could he ever marry another woman? Have sex with her and be a good husband? For the sake of his children he knew he should, but denying himself again felt like a death sentence.
He realized he was staring when Rebecca cleared her throat and pointed to the gift box.
“Ann wanted to get these for you last Christmas. Remember when she and I went to Poughkeepsie for the day? She spotted these in a window and put them on layaway. She said you didn’t dress up very often but the clovers were so perfect. I was there a few months ago and they hadn’t been sold.”
Jim swallowed thickly.
Oh, Ann.
“You didn’t have to do that.”
“I think she would like it, you having them. It’s for her as much as you. I miss her so desperately sometimes.”
Jim could only nod, because God knew he hadn’t missed his wife as much as he should have. He’d never loved her like she deserved to be loved. He squeezed one of the cufflinks, the metal cool against his palm.
Rebecca smiled sadly. “I know Ann would want you to be happy.”
Nodding again, Jim put the cufflink back in the box and pushed his chair back. At the fridge he poured his own glass of lemonade before gulping it down, willing the nausea to pass.
“Have you heard from Cal? I was sorry he had to leave so suddenly.”
Jim tensed, and he took a breath to level his voice. “No.”
“It’s only been a month or so. I’m sure he’ll be in touch soon.”
Sophie burst through the door, the parasol still over her shoulder. “Daddy, let’s go for a walk.”
“I have work to do, sweetie. Mrs. O’Brien will be back from the market soon.” He leaned against the counter, gripping his glass so hard he was afraid it would shatter.
Rebecca smiled brightly at Sophie. “There’s nothing I enjoy more on a sunny Saturday than a nice walk. If you’d do me the honor?”
Sophie glanced at Jim, and he nodded.
“They can show me around the orchard. It’s been a long time,” Rebecca said as she stood and smoothed down her dress. “Sophie, go get Adam and I’ll be right out.”
Jim cleared his throat. “Thank you.”
“I didn’t mean to upset you. I really would like to be friends.”
“Of course. Ann…” Jim took a deep breath. “Ann cared for you very much. I hope you know that. You’re always welcome here.” He went to the table and picked up the gift box. “This was very thoughtful. You’re right, Ann would be glad that I have them.”
Rebecca nodded and joined the children outside. Jim listened to their gay singing, fading away as they disappeared into the orchard. He wasn’t sure how long he stood there. Finally he took the box and went upstairs.
Standing in front of his dresser, he stared at the single comb and gold watch resting on the dark, worn wood, and at the tangle of his dog tags. Taking the cufflinks from their box, he carefully arranged them beside the watch. The second hand moved faithfully, and he held the watch to his ear to hear the ticking. Although he hadn’t worn it but once since Cal had given it to him, he wound it every day without fail.
He placed it back down carefully. It was of the finest craftsmanship, and the thought of damaging it out in the orchard made Jim’s mouth go dry. He brushed his fingertips across the glass face. Not a day had gone by that he hadn’t picked up the phone and considered dialing the operator to put him through to Manhattan. But it wasn’t fair. He had to let Cal go.
His gaze drifted over the cufflinks, and he took a shuddering breath.
God knows I don’t deserve him
. He hadn’t deserved Ann’s love either. Had never been able to be the husband she needed. He’d failed her. Cal. All of them.
With quick movements, he put the cufflinks back in the box and grabbed his tags, stuffing them in as well. But no, that wasn’t right. He opened the top drawer and shoved the dog tags behind his socks. After replacing the lid on the box, he hid away the cufflinks as well. His gaze returned to the watch, and Jim knew he should put it in the drawer. Make a fresh start.
He reached for it, but curled his fingers into a fist. As the memories overflowed, he practically ran from the bedroom, his head spinning. In the hallway he leaned over the banister, clutching the smooth wood as he caught his breath. The door to the guest room stood open, and Jim found himself going inside.
The night after Cal had gone, Jim had crept down the hall in the small hours and lain atop the sheets, inhaling Cal’s scent. But the traces of him were gone now. Mrs. O’Brien had washed all the bedding before Ron and Lorraine’s visit in July, and they’d soon be arriving again to celebrate Sophie’s birthday. He felt a ridiculous resentment toward them for being in Cal’s space, even though he’d invited them himself.
Jim sat on the side of the bed where Cal had slept. He couldn’t hear anyone outside, and so just for a minute, he indulged himself. It was his birthday, after all. Jim closed his eyes, and remembered.
“Daddy, I’m going to fall.”
“I won’t let you. Keep going.” Jim walked right behind her, hands over her eyes as they entered the barn.
Mrs. O’Brien, Rebecca, Ronald, Lorraine, and Adam trailed behind them. Lunch had been a collection of Sophie’s favorites, including potato salad, and macaroni and cheese. They’d had a picnic on the grass by the paddock, and Sophie had held court with her new parasol on her shoulder the whole time. Jim insisted Rebecca stay for the meal, and fortunately she’d softened Ronald’s typically surly demeanor.
Jim had milked Mabel in the morning, and told Sophie not to go into the barn. Now he led her to the worktable and took his hands away from her eyes.
She gasped. “For me?” Her face was alight, eyes wide.
Jim kissed the top of her head. “Happy birthday.”
She threw her arms around his waist tightly. “I love you, Daddy.”
With a full heart, Jim hugged her back. “Love you too.”
“My goodness, it’s gorgeous.” Rebecca approached the dollhouse, which sat on the table with the biggest bow Jim could find sitting atop it. “I want to play with it myself.”
Sophie opened the doors of the house and peered in the windows. “You can come over and play any time, Aunt Rebecca!”
Lorraine smiled and nudged her husband as Adam squirmed in her arms, reaching out toward the dollhouse. “Isn’t it remarkable?”
Ronald frowned. “How’d you afford it?”
“Cal made it. I just finished up the painting and bought the dolls.”
Sophie spun around. “Uncle Cal made it? For me?”
“Yep. He’ll be very glad to know how much you like it.”
“Really?”
Jim smiled. “Really.”
She bounced. “Can we call him? I want to say thank you.”
“You expect us to believe that city slicker didn’t just buy it at one of those fancy stores?” Ronald muttered.
Jim’s smile was tight. “I saw him make it, Ron. He worked on it night after night.”
Mrs. O’Brien announced, “I think it’s time for some birthday cake! Sophie, darling, later you can write Uncle Cal a thank you letter. I’m sure he’ll love that. We can put it in the post on Monday.”
Sophie glanced up at Jim. “We can’t call him?”
“He’s awfully busy, sweetheart. I think Mrs. O’Brien has the right idea. You can draw him a picture and make it all nice.”
As Ronald opened his mouth, Mrs. O’Brien called out, “Come along, everyone!” She led the way out of the barn.
Lingering, Sophie peeked into the dollhouse again, reaching out to gingerly touch the dolls inside. “Daddy?”
“Yes? Come on, you’ve got to blow out the candles.” Jim ran his hand over her loose curls. “Nine this year. Do you think you can do it?”
She nodded, but still stared at the dollhouse pensively. “Did Uncle Cal really make this for me?”
Jim crouched. “He did. He worked very hard on it. I know he was sorry he had to go before he could give it to you.”
“So…he’s not mad at me?”
A wave of guilt washed over him. “No, sweetie. I promise he’s not mad at you. He had to go back to the city. It was nothing to do with you.”
“Is he going to come back?”
“Maybe to visit one day.”
Tears welled in her eyes. “Why can’t he come back to stay? I miss him. Don’t you miss him?”
Jim struggled to keep his expression even. “I do.”
“Why does everyone have to leave? Eddie didn’t even say goodbye. He was my best friend while you were away. And now Uncle Cal’s gone. Why can’t they come back?”
He kissed Sophie’s forehead and pulled her into his arms. “I wish I knew. Now come on, it’s your special day. Grandma brought your favorite—lemon upside-down cake.”
“Daddy, it’s your special day too.”
He smiled as he stood. “I know. You’re the best present I’ve ever had.”
She wiped her damp cheeks. “You’re the best daddy in the whole wide world.”
They left the barn hand in hand. Even if part of him would always be hollow without Cal, he still had this. Jim squeezed Sophie’s palm, and she hummed as they made their way back home.
“You again.”
The young corpsman didn’t sound particularly surprised, and Cal shrugged with a half-hearted smile as he shook the rain from his hair and wiped his face. “It’s my stomach, doc.”
“Uh-huh. Go take the cot next to your buddy.” He nodded toward the back of the medical tent.
Mud and ever-present water squelching in his boots, Cal passed the rows of cots until he found Jim, who was curled on his side, nodding to something the boy in a nearby cot was saying. When Jim saw Cal’s approach, his face lit up—as much as it could considering both his eyes were almost swollen shut.
Before Cal could say anything, the other Marine started chattering. “Hey, pal. So whaddya say? The Golden Gate in forty-eight?”
Cal squeezed Jim’s shoulder as he passed by and sat on the cot on Jim’s other side. They were all too thin now, but Jim was alarmingly frail beneath his blanket. Cal put on a smile. “I say that it’s only forty-four now, and if we have to spend another four years on these godforsaken islands they’re going to have to do something about this rain.”
Since leaving the safety and comfort of Australia a year earlier, the months had ticked by, a monotony of training and fighting, and the hell of the jungle and the wetness that never went away. Perhaps even more than the enemy, it was the jungle that wore them down, battering them endlessly with bugs and damp and disease.
The boy laughed, a little too manically. “Is it always like this? I dunno, I just got here last month, and it hasn’t stopped raining.”
“In the summer it’s unbearably hot. It’s a change of pace, at least.”
“Have you killed a lot of Nips? I haven’t had a chance to kill any yet. They say it’s malaria, and some people just get it really bad. I’m one of them. Boy, I’d hate to be sent home without killing a Jap.”
Jim rolled over to face Cal, grimacing. Some of the replacements were okay, but others were like this, still annoyingly gung ho.
“If I can go home without killing another man, that’ll be just fine with me,” Cal said. The thought of home made him ache unbearably.
The boy’s attention was caught by another patient, and Cal tuned him out. “How are you feeling?” he asked Jim.
“Better than I look. I hope.”
“Nah, you look fine.”
Jim’s puffy lips twitched. “If I didn’t know you I’d almost believe it. You should have been a corpsman, Cal. You could reassure the dying that everything would be okay. You have that way about you.”
“You’re not dying.” Cal’s tone was too sharp, and he forced a smile. “Not on my watch.”
“Speaking of which, you must be running out of excuses to get sent to sick bay.”
“Don’t underestimate me, Jim. There are plenty more where this came from.” Cal grinned.
Jim scratched his scalp and ghosted his fingertips over his swollen features. “Every time it starts to go down, it swells right back up. Doc thinks it’s some kind of bug or parasite. Maybe an allergy. Who knows.”
“Enjoy the rest. Not that we’ve gone to battle lately. We’re coming across fewer and fewer Japs on patrol, which is good because we’re low on ammo. Between you and me, I don’t think the Japs want Cape Gloucester anymore. Or they’ve decided to just let the jungle be the end of us. Not a bad strategy.”