Star (38 page)

Elizabeth stood behind the gate, trying to see his face, pushed on all sides by the crowds that had come to greet them. It had taken him three weeks to muster out, and she had wanted to meet him in Japan and fly to Honolulu for a few days. But the army had insisted he fly back to San Francisco, and he would be free the moment he set foot on terra firma. Her parents were there, and his, and there were hundreds of women talking anxiously. They were the lucky ones. There were countless others who stayed home and mourned. No one was coming home to them. But Spencer had survived it. He had been wounded once, but it had only been a flesh wound and he had been back in combat a week later. It had been an ugly war, a “police action” that had cost lives, the second war he had served in in twelve years.

She had taken a month off from work, and they were going to go to the lake with her parents. The Barclays had invited his parents to come too, although he didn’t
know it yet. And there was a huge surprise party planned at the house in San Francisco.

As Elizabeth watched him hurrying out of the plane, she straightened her hat, and stood nervously waiting. It had been a long time since she’d seen him, and now everything would be very different. Their stays at the Imperial Hotel had become awkward eventually because he was under so much strain and now this was real life again, which might take even more adjustment. They had never really lived together before the war, and he’d been gone for three years now. And at twenty-four she had become very independent and she was up to her ears in politics. She had entrée everywhere, and she had met some very interesting people in Washington during his absence. But the last thing on her mind was politics as she finally saw him. He seemed very tall and thin as he looked over the crowd, and then walked slowly toward them, conversing with a few of his men. He still hadn’t seen her. She saw him shake hands with them and then they hurried off to find their wives, and he continued through the crowd as she pressed toward him. His mother was crying, having just seen her son for the first time in three years, but he still didn’t know that they were there. His eyes were sad as he scanned the crowd, and there was gray in his hair that hadn’t been there before. At thirty-four he looked even more handsome than he had the day Elizabeth met him at her parents’ dinner. And then suddenly, with a look of surprise, he saw her face beneath the big straw hat, and he hesitated for a moment and then dropped his duffel bag and ran toward her, pulling her into his arms and off her feet as he swung her around, and his parents hurried toward him. Even Justice Barclay had a tear in his eye as he shook Spencer’s hand heartily, and Priscilla was crying openly as she hugged him.

“It’s so good to have you back safe and sound.”

“Thank you.” He hugged and kissed them all and his mother saw something different in his eyes, something that hadn’t been there before, and that worried her. It was the kind of grief she had known when her oldest son died. He looked as though he had lost something in the war, a faith, a belief, a sureness he had had before. It had never been a war he believed in.

They crowded into the waiting limousine and drove to the house on Broadway chatting and talking and laughing and crying. The two older women looked at each other several times in sympathy, with tender smiles. They were the mothers of sons, and sometimes that wasn’t easy. Only Elizabeth was in high spirits as she held her husband’s hand, and he had an arm comfortably around her shoulders. But they had seen each other in Japan several times, unlike their parents who hadn’t seen him since the war had started three years before. It had been a long, long time, for all of them, and Spencer showed it most of all. He leaned his head back and closed his eyes, speaking to all and none, as Elizabeth chatted animatedly with her mother.

“I can’t believe I’m home.” He wasn’t yet, but this was close enough. He was back on American soil, with his wife at his side. But that was something he still had to deal with. He had been torturing himself about it ever since he’d left San Francisco.

“Welcome home, Son.” His father patted his arm and tears choked him as Spencer reached over and squeezed his hand hard.

“I love you, Dad. Christ, I hope this country stays out of trouble for a while. I’ve had it.”

“I hope this time you didn’t stay in the reserves,” Elizabeth chided him with a smile, and he laughed.

“Not on your life. They’re going to have to call on
another boy next time. I’m staying home to get fat and sit on my ass while my wife has babies.” He said it half jokingly and also to test the waters. There were a lot of things he wanted to discuss with her and that one was important to him. Elizabeth made no comment and only smiled, but nothing had changed when they closed the bedroom door shortly after they got to the house on Broadway. He threw his uniform on the floor and longed to see it burn, and after a shower he approached Elizabeth with caution. He had resolved a lot in his mind while he was gone, but not everything. Elizabeth was more real to him now because he hadn’t heard from Crystal in so long, and she had begun retreating into his dreams again. Although he missed her, he hadn’t decided what to do about Elizabeth and their marriage. She had changed a lot in three years and there were a lot of things he wanted to know about her, especially whether or not she wanted children. But he had decided long since that he wasn’t going to play games with her anymore. He wanted to know exactly who she was and what she wanted, and if it wasn’t right for him, they weren’t going to stay married. He had to give her a chance, but he had a right to what he wanted, too, and he wasn’t sure it was Elizabeth Barclay. He had seen too many men die, seen too much pain, to waste his life now with the wrong woman. Life was too short, and at thirty-four, his was already half over. The meaning of life had become too dear to him to waste even a moment with a woman he didn’t want to be with. And he brought the subject up as she sat in the bathtub that afternoon as they dressed for dinner. She was luxuriating in a froth of scented bubbles. He sat down gingerly on the edge of the tub, freshly showered with a towel around his waist, feeling a little awkward with her. He looked handsomer than ever. His
body was as firm as a boy’s. It had been a hard life for all of them in Korea.

“How do you feel about having kids these days?” She looked up at him in surprise, and smiled at the question.

“Generally, or my own?” Her brother and Sarah had finally announced openly that they didn’t want any, and she hadn’t been shocked by their decision.

“Ours actually.” He didn’t smile as he waited for her to answer. That was another thing he was no longer willing to wait for.

“I hadn’t given it much thought lately. It wasn’t exactly foremost in my mind with you away.” She smiled and moved her legs gracefully in the bubble-covered water. “Why? Is that something we have to resolve today?” She looked annoyed, and it was odd having him stare at her in the bathtub.

“Maybe. I think the fact that we even have to ‘resolve’ it says something, don’t you?”

“No, I don’t. It’s not something anyone should rush into.”

“Like your brother and Sarah?” He realized he was looking for a fight with her. He wanted to make a decision, and soon. Having two women on his mind for the past three years had almost driven him crazy.

“They have nothing to do with this, Spencer. I mean us. I’m twenty-four years old, I’m not over the hill yet, thank you very much, and I have an important job in Washington. I’m not going to jeopardize that for a baby.” He had his answer. But he was still angry at the way she said it.

“I think your priorities are all wrong.”

“You see it differently. For you, it’s just something cute to come home to. For me, it’s a major sacrifice. That makes a big difference.”

“Yes, it does.” He stood up, and tightened the towel
around his waist, and she smiled, thinking how silly he looked in the pink towel. “It shouldn’t be a sacrifice, Elizabeth. It should be something we both want.”

“Well, ‘we’ don’t. You do, and maybe one day I will, but not now, this isn’t the time. My job is just too important.” He was already tired of hearing about it, and she knew how much he hated McCarthy.

“Is the job really that important to you?” But he knew it was. It was all she had talked about in Tokyo when he met her on leave there.

“Yes.” She looked him in the eye. She wasn’t afraid to be honest with him, she never had been. “The job is very important to me, Spencer.”

“Why?”

“Because it makes me feel independent.” It was something he didn’t want in a wife, and yet … there was something about her … it wasn’t even that he was used to her yet. They had only been married for two weeks before he left. But there was something challenging about her, it made him want to conquer her, and in his heart of hearts, he knew that Elizabeth would never be conquered. “I took a leave of absence to come out here to meet you, but I’m going back to work when we get home, Spencer, I hope you know that.”

“I do now, don’t I?” He lit a cigarette as she watched. The war had been hard on him, and on a lot of others. And he had come through it all right finally after the rough period when he had stopped writing to Crystal. But there were times he would never forget, like the men who had died in his arms, needlessly, all for a fight that wasn’t theirs anyway. It had eaten at his heart, and it was hard to come home now and put it behind him. “And where is home, by the way? I gather we’ve given up New York. Where does that leave me? Unemployed, I expect.”

“You didn’t like your job there anyway.” She sounded
unimpressed. She was a tough opponent. “You told me that in Tokyo.”

“Possibly. But it might be nice to earn a living. I’m not quite as ‘independent,’ shall we call it, as you are. I need a job, Elizabeth.”

“I’m sure my father will be happy to introduce you to anyone you want. And I had some ideas on that subject myself, like something in government. It would suit you to perfection.”

“I’m a Democrat. That’s not the fashion these days.”

“So is my father, so am I. There’s room for everyone in Washington. That’s what it’s all about. This is a democracy, not a dictatorship, for God’s sake.” It was ridiculous, he had been home for four hours, and they were fighting over politics and her job, when all he wanted was to feel comfortable again and settle down with a woman he loved, and who loved him. But there was nothing comfortable about being there. He had no home, no job, and he felt suddenly lost without the army. And even that confused him, all he had wanted was to come home, and now that he had, he was unhappy.

He dressed and went downstairs, and two hours later he was stunned. Two hundred people he didn’t know had been invited to dinner. It was a surprise party for him, and his father sensed quietly that he wasn’t ready for it. From Seoul to San Francisco in one speedy leap was too big an adjustment. Spencer had trouble sleeping that night, and he let himself out of the house and walked for miles, listening to the foghorns and winding up in North Beach. But every time he heard a sound somewhere on the way, he jumped, fearing a sniper.

He was standing outside Mrs. Castagna’s house, looking up at her windows, and his heart was beating wildly. This was the moment he had dreamed of coming home for. The windows were all dark, and he wanted to run in
and surprise her. But as he stood there, he wondered again why she hadn’t answered his letters.

He tried the front door with a trembling hand, but it was locked, and he rang the bell. No one answered for a long time, and then a woman came, looking sleepy, and wrapped in a bathrobe.

“Yes? What do you want?” She spoke through the door, and he could see her through the glass panes. She was middle-aged and not very attractive.

“I’m here to see Miss Wyatt.” He was wearing his uniform and it was obvious that he was a soldier.

The woman looked pensive for a minute and then shook her head. She thought she knew everyone by then, and then she remembered. “She don’t live here.”

“Yes, she does.” He nodded insistently, and then suddenly realized she might have moved. It frightened him to realize that he didn’t know where she was now. “She lived in the corner room upstairs.” He pointed. But that had been three years before. Maybe that was why she hadn’t answered his letters.

“She moved away before my mother died.” His heart almost stopped. Mrs. Castagna was gone too. Everything had changed. He had waited for this moment for so long and now she was gone, and everything familiar with her.

“Do you know where she moved to?” They were still talking through the door, but the woman wouldn’t open it. It was too late and she didn’t know who he was. For all she knew he was drunk, or a maniac, and she wasn’t going to let him in. She was one of Mrs. Castagna’s unmarried daughters, and she ran the place now, with austerity and great caution. She had raised the rents, and she was thinking of selling the place. She and her sisters and brothers had decided that they’d rather have the money.

“I don’t know where she went, mister. I never even met her.”

“Did she leave a forwarding address?” The woman shook her head and then waved at him, wanting him to go away so she could go back to her apartment.

He started down the steps and then looked up at the darkened windows again. She was gone, and he had no idea where to find her.

He went to Harry’s after that, sure that he’d find her there, and they were closing as he got there. The maitre d’ had taken his jacket off, there were two men scrubbing floors, and all of the chairs were on the tables.

“Sorry, sir, we’re closed.” He looked annoyed as Spencer walked in. The doors were supposed to be locked, but someone had obviously forgotten, and left them open.

“I know … I’m sorry … is Crystal here?” He felt suddenly frightened as he asked. What if she wasn’t? What if something had happened to her? In all that time he’d been involved with himself and the miseries of his own existence. He had let her down. And now God only knew what had happened to her.

But the headwaiter shook his head, anxious for Spencer to leave. “She moved to L.A. But we’ve got a great little gal to replace her. Come back tomorrow night.” But the only other “gal” he wanted was the one he loved, the one whose memory had kept him going in Korea.