The Widow's Choice (31 page)

“No. Look what just came in the mail.”

He handed her the letter with trembling fingers. She read it quickly and then gave him a big hug. “I’m so proud of you!” Still holding onto Tim, she handed the letter to Oscar. He took it and read it to himself.

Oscar looked up, his face wreathed in a smile. “Tim, congratulations.”

“I couldn’t have done it if it hadn’t been for you, Mr. Oscar.” Tim went over and when Oscar put out his hand, Tim ignored it. Instead he put his arms around Oscar and said, “Thanks . . . Dad.”

Alona felt tears come to her eyes. Tim pulled out of the
embrace and before he ran from the room, she saw tears in his eyes as well.

“That was wonderful, Oscar.” She took a handkerchief out of her pocket and used it first on her tears and then on Oscar’s.

“Your son is a fine boy, Alona, and I’m so proud of him.”

“Do you want me to write your letter now?”

“I’d like to write it myself this time.”

“Are you sure you feel like it?”

“Help me sit up and then bring me that board to write on.”

Alona pulled Oscar into a semi-upright position, stuffing pillows behind his back, and gave him the board he used when he felt like writing himself. She put an envelope and paper and pen on the board and said, “I’ll come back later.” She leaned over and kissed his cheek. “It’s a wonderful thing you’ve done for Tim and for all the boys.”

“I wish I’d had more time with them.”

“You will,” she said. “You’ll have plenty of time with them.”

He did not answer for a moment; then he reached out and took her hand again. He squeezed it gently and said, “I want you to take care of those boys, Alona, and I know you will. And I want to thank you for being in my life.”

“Why, Oscar, you’ve done so much for us. I need to thank you for all you’ve done for the boys and for me.”

She leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. “I’ll be back in half an hour with your lunch.”

“All right, Alona.”

She left the room and went to the kitchen.

“How is he feeling today?” Leah asked.

“Physically, about the same, I guess. Emotionally, I’d say he’s feeling very well. Better than ever.”

She told Leah about what had happened.

“I’m so glad that Tim called him Dad,” Leah said. “That must have been one of the best moments of his life.”

“I think it was.”

Carrying a lunch tray carefully in one hand, Alona opened the door of Oscar’s room. The board was still on Oscar’s lap, but his head hung down at an awkward angle, and fear swept through her.

“Oscar!” she cried. She quickly put the tray down on the bedside table. “Oscar, are you all right?”

But when she touched him, she knew he was not all right. She felt for his pulse as the nurse had taught her and knew he was gone.

She took a deep breath and tried to compose herself. The envelope she had given Oscar had fallen to the floor. She picked it up and noticed that it was sealed. She read the unsteady handwriting:
For my beloved brother, Jason—when he comes home.

She gazed down at this man who had so changed her life and the lives of her sons. She smoothed his hair and caressed his cheek. “Thank you, Oscar, for all the good things.”

Closing the door quietly, she left the room and found the boys listening to the radio. She turned the radio off. “Boys, I have something to tell you. . . .”

****

Jason was navigating down the hall of the hospital, swinging along on his crutches, when Chaplain Barnes came around the corner. “Hello, Padre, you out spreading the gospel today?”

Chaplain Barnes ordinarily had a cheerful face, but today he was looking quite somber. “I’ve got something for you, Jason.”

“What is it?”

“Let’s go to your room.”

Jason reversed and the two moved back down the hallway into Jason’s room. He sat down and leaned the crutches against the wall while the chaplain pulled a chair up next to his. “What is it? It’s got to be bad news.”

“I’m afraid it is. I got this letter from your brother’s wife, Mrs. Alona Moran. She asked me to speak with you.”

“Someone is sick,” Jason said. “Who is it? One of the boys?”

“No. It’s your brother, Oscar.”

Instantly Jason knew the worst. “He’s gone, isn’t he, Chaplain?”

The man nodded slowly. “She enclosed a letter here for you in which she’ll tell you the details, but she wanted me to break the news to you. I’m sorry, Jason. She says he slipped away peacefully.”

Jason took the envelope the chaplain handed to him, feeling empty inside. “We had our differences, but those are long forgotten. If you have a few minutes, let me tell you what a good man he was to me.”

The chaplain leaned forward in his chair.

“He wasn’t a gentle man, but he took care of me just like he was my father. There were some hard times during the Depression, and he saw to it that I never lacked for anything. Since I’ve been here I’ve tried to tell him in letters how much I appreciated that, but I was hoping to see him again.”

Chaplain Barnes patted Jason’s good knee. “You will, son. You will. Christians never say good-bye!”

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

Return of the Warrior

Alona put her hat on but was so nervous that it slipped off and fell to the floor. Quickly she bent over, picked it up, and fastened it with a hatpin. She heard the boys talking in Carl’s room, and taking one more quick look at herself in her dresser mirror, she went to his room. The three boys were talking excitedly, and as usual, Zac’s voice rose above the other two.

“Everybody in town is gonna be at the station to meet Jason, Mom!”

“That’s right,” Carl said, his eyes shining. “The high school band’s gonna be there and the mayor.”

“Hey, Mom,” Tim put in, “I heard there’s going to be a reporter and a photographer from Atlanta. Maybe Jason will get on the cover of
Life
magazine.”

“Come on, Mom, we’re going to be late!” Zac said.

“All right. I’m ready.”

The group went downstairs, and Leah was waiting at the door. “I’ve got his room all ready.” Alona could see that the woman was nervous and she looked worried. “I wasn’t very kind to Jason when he was here. I hope he won’t hold it against me.”

Alona reached out and embraced the woman. “He won’t,” she said cheerfully. “He’s not that kind of man.”

“Let’s go, Mom,” Carl said as he opened the door.

The group went out and piled into the car. “When we come back, I get to ride in the front with Jason,” Zac announced.

“No you don’t. I’m the oldest. I do!” Tim said.

“You boys hush. You all three are going to ride in the back. Jason’s leg is still stiff. He needs the extra room.” She backed the car out and drove toward the train station.
What will he be like?
she wondered. She could not forget that he had told her he loved her the last time she saw him.
He’s probably forgotten all that,
she thought and pressed the accelerator.

****

Old memories came rushing back to Jason as he peered out the window at the familiar scene. He had thought about this town so often, and now as he passed by the football stadium where he had thrown many a forward pass, he shifted to see better but then winced as his leg protested.

“Say, Jason, we’re glad to have you back again.” Sam Freeman, the conductor, had paused by Jason’s seat, swaying with the movement of the train. Jason could hardly believe it when he got on the train earlier and saw someone he knew from the First Baptist Church. “I guess you’re gonna get tired of hearing it, but I can’t help telling you before we get into town how proud I am of you, Jason.”

“Thanks, Sam, but the men we need to be proud of are those who didn’t make it back.”

“Of course that’s true, but still you did a great job.” He hesitated and then said, “I’m real sorry about Oscar.”

“Yes. I wish I could have made it home before he was taken.”

“You know he changed a lot after his heart attack. Everybody talked about it. People who went to visit him said he talked about you a lot, son. Said he was so sorry he wasn’t a good father to you.”

“Well, he was a good father and a good man. I’ll miss him.” Freeman bent down to look out the window. “Almost to the station.” He stood up and tilted his head. “You know it’s real strange. You was the one gettin’ shot at, but it was Oscar that the Lord saw fit to take.”

“You never know about those things.”

He bent down to look out the window again. “My land, I believe everybody in town’s there! Look at all the banners and streamers. And there’s Miss Alona. You know she took over the music program at church.” He smiled and added, “I guess you two will be making music again like the old times.”

Jason was humbled by the size of the crowd but his focus kept returning to Alona. When the train jerked to a stop, Jason got to his feet. Sam handed him his crutches and followed him as he swung down the aisle.

“Wait a minute. Let me go first. I’ll help you down.” Sam jumped down and the porter was already there with the portable step.

“You be careful gettin’ down, Lieutenant,” the porter told him over the cheering of the crowd and the blaring of the band. He grinned broadly, his white teeth flashing.

“I will,” Jason yelled. “I’d hate to break my neck just when I finally got home.”

“They shouldn’t be making such a fuss,” he said to Sam.

“Of course they should. You’re a war hero. Now, boy, you’ve got to show ’em you’re glad to see ’em.”

Jason did manage to smile. He made his way to the spot where the mayor stood with Alona and the boys. Suddenly a bright light flashed in his face and a photographer shouted, “What was it like? Give our readers something, Lieutenant.”

The mayor, a giant of a man, seized the reporter by the upper arms and moved him and the photographer out of the way. “You fellows will have your chance later. Right now, this celebration is for us hometown folks.”

He reached for Jason’s hand and shook it firmly. “Welcome home, Jason.”

“Thank you, Mayor.”

As soon as Jason released the mayor’s hand, Carl ran forward, crying, “Jason—Jason!” He nearly knocked Jason off of his crutches, and then the other two boys were there as well, hanging on to him. Jason dropped one of his crutches
and put his arms around them. “It’s so good to see you fellows,” he said, his eyes misty.

“Welcome home, Jason,” Alona said over Carl’s head.

She’s as beautiful as ever,
he thought, and he saw that she was weeping. He put his free hand out and she latched onto it, but he couldn’t say a word. He had been looking forward to this moment for many weeks now. Her hand was warm and strong in his, and he wished they were alone on the platform.

“Lieutenant, would you care to say a word to the towns-people?” the mayor asked. He held up his hand and caught the band conductor’s eye. The band stopped, and Jason turned, releasing Alona’s hand.

His heart was full and his throat was thick, but he managed to say, “I’m so thankful to be here. I’ve thought about you all so much. This town and you good people, my fellow church members, my friends, and my family are what kept me going. I know many of you prayed for me. I thank you for your prayers, and I urge you to keep praying for the men and women who are still in harm’s way.”

Jason couldn’t wait to get out of the crowd and have a moment alone with Alona, but instead he shook many hands and spoke to the reporter and had his picture taken with the mayor. Finally he grew weary, and the mayor said, “That’s enough for today. You take him home, Miss Alona.”

She was at his side at once. The boys gathered around him, forming a half-circle. “Yes,” Jason said, “take me home, Alona.”

****

Jason’s first week at home flew by quickly, as the boys and everyone else he knew wanted to have some time to get reacquainted and hear about his first-hand experiences in the war. But there was an uncomfortable awkwardness when he was alone with Alona. They’d had many private conversations, catching up on all that had happened, including Oscar’s last months and Jason’s experiences in the war.

Early in the week she had shown him the will, explaining that Oscar had designated enough funds to cover college expenses for all three boys and had left the house, the foundry, and most of his other assets to both Jason and her.

“He shouldn’t have done that!”

“It’s what he wanted. He had it all planned out. If you like, we can sell the foundry. I know you’ve always hated it.”

They had agreed to talk about it later, and as the days passed, Jason felt even more awkward and ill at ease around Alona. The boys were unchanged, but Alona seemed reserved and uncomfortable, and he felt the same way.

On a Monday morning when he was sitting in the backyard enjoying the perfect day, Alona came outside, holding an envelope. “I have something for you.”

He took it and read, “ ‘For my beloved brother, Jason—when he comes home.’ You haven’t read this?”

“No. I wanted to wait and give it to you after all the other business was settled. It was the last thing he wrote . . . on the day he died.” She told him exactly what had happened that day. “When I came back with his lunch he was gone, but he had managed to write this letter. It was sealed. So it will be your last word from him on this earth.”

Alona watched as Jason opened the envelope. He took out the sheet of paper and read it. And then he appeared to reread it another time or two, nodding as he read. He folded it, put it back in the envelope, and then stuffed it into his pocket, making no comment.

****

As the weeks passed and winter approached, Alona and Jason spent evenings talking in the parlor. On this particular night, they sat by a crackling fire, sipping on some hot chocolate after the boys had gone to bed.