Beneath the Honeysuckle Vine (43 page)

“
I can
’
t rightly say, sir…but it sure is nice to meet the father of
two such
fine soldiers as your boys were,
”
Johnny said.

“
Johnny Tabor,
”
Mr. Maggee said
,
still holding tightly to Johnny
’
s hand
,
“
I hear you and Justin Turner did a spell at
Andersonville
.
”

“
Yes
,
sir, Mr. Maggee,
”
Johnny said.
“
But we come out of it fine.
”

Mr. Maggee released Johnny
’
s hand at last.
Vivianna felt as if she might begin weeping
,
f
or as Mr. Maggee continued to gaze at Johnny, his eyes filled with moisture and emotion.

“
Well, don
’
t you let anybody ever disrespect you, boy,
”
Mr. Maggee said.
“
You and them Turner boys…and my own boys…y
’
all did the right thing.
Don
’
t ya let anybody tell ya different
,
and don
’
t ya let anybody ever disrespect ya or what ya done in fightin
’
for the
Union
.
Do ya hear me?
”

“
Yes, sir,
”
Johnny said, smiling.

“
Good.
Good,
”
Mr. Maggee said.
He looked to Vivianna then.
“
I
’
m on my way out to the Turner place to see my boys this very mornin
’
, Vivianna.
I hope that
’
s all right.
”

Vivianna smiled.
“
Of course it
’
s all right, Mr. Maggee.
Miss Savannah already told ya that ya don
’
t have to ask permission to go to the cemetery.
”

“
I know, I know,
”
he said.
“
I just always feel like I should let somebody know.
”

“
Well, that
’
s because you
’
re a gentleman,
”
Vivianna replied.

“
Well, thank ya, Vivianna.
Thank ya.
”
Mr. Maggee chuckled.
“
I seen ol
’
Tilly Winder on the road ahead of me.
Figure I better hang back a bit.
I may be old
,
but I hear tell she ain
’
t too particular who she sparks with these days…and I don
’
t wanna find myself in trouble with her daddy.
”

Vivianna giggled.
She bit her lip, however, knowing she shouldn
’
t find mirth in such an implication.

Johnny chuckled as Mr. Maggee winked and said,
“
I
’
m only teasin
’
, boy.
”
Mr. Maggee wagged an index finger at Johnny and added,
“
But you stay clear of ol
’
Tilly.
I bet she
’
d give her hind teeth to get ya alone for a minute or two.
”

“
She ain
’
t the kind of girl I look once at, Mr. Maggee…let alone twice,
”
Johnny said.

“
Good,
”
Mr. Maggee chuckled.
“
Well, I
’
m off to visit my boys. You two enjoy the day.
”

“
Thank ya, Mr. Maggee.
You enjoy your visit now,
”
Vivianna said.
“
And stop in and see Miss Savannah.
She
’
s home all alone with Nate and Willy today.
She
’
s probably pullin
’
her hair out by now.
”

Mr. Maggee chuckled.
“
Oh, I imagine that she is.
I
’
ll stop in on her then.
Bye now.
It was a real honor to meet ya, Johnny.
A real honor.
”

“
You too, sir,
”
Johnny said, shaking the man
’
s hand once more.

Vivianna watched as Mr. Maggee continued down the road.
He was whistling—whistling
“
When Johnny Comes Marching Home
.
”

“
That poor man,
”
Vivianna whispered as she watched him go.

“
He had a couple of good boys,
”
Johnny said.
“
Real good boys.
”

Vivianna quickly glanced to Johnny.
She
’
d noted the change in his voice.
Meeting Mr. Maggee had brought the war to the front of his mind—caused a sad melancholy to begin to overtake him.
She didn
’
t want him to know pain or sadness.
It was a beautiful day
,
and the war was ended.
She wanted him to forget the horrors of it for a time
and simply know peace of mind.

Furthermore, Vivianna didn
’
t want to end up meeting anyone else along the way.
She was on a mission—a mission to free her mind and heart.
Besides, she didn
’
t want to share her traveling companion.
She owned an odd sense of wanting to keep Johnny
’
s attention all to herself.
“
How do ya feel about takin
’
a shorter route to my parents
’
home…even if it
’
s not so smooth as the road to town?
”
she asked.

Johnny looked to her and grinned.
“
I could do with a few less folks this mornin
’
,
”
he said.

“
Then come with me,
”
she said.
Taking his hand
,
she led him off the road and onto a small path winding through the trees.
“
This is the way Sam and Augie and I used to come
when we were meetin
’
up with Caleb and Justin,
”
she explained.
“
It leads to the back of our house.
Folks in town won
’
t even know we
’
ve been there.
”

Vivianna
’
s heart began to race.
Home—it was just a ways more—just through the next little grove of trees and shrubbery!
And then they were there.
Vivianna stepped out from the tree line and into the open space behind her family home.
Her heart swelled with sudden joy!
The back of the Bartholomew house loomed before them.
Her mother
’
s wisteria had nearly taken over the grand gazebo nearby
,
and it seemed all the grasses and shrubbery were wild and rather lonesome.

“
There it is,
”
she breathed.
“
This is my home.
”

“
It
’
s awful big,
”
Johnny mumbled as he walked past her
and
stepped up into the grand gazebo.

“
I suppose,
”
Vivianna whispered.
“
But isn
’
t it beautiful?
”
Oh, it was beautiful!
Perhaps the folks in
Florence
thought as Johnny did—that the Bartholomew house was grand and glorious.
But to Vivianna, it was simply home.

As Vivianna started toward the house—as she gazed up into the windows reflecting the brilliance of the morning sun—such a feeling of home and family came over her that she sighed with momentary joy
.
Though she knew it was not so, she imagined her mother waited inside
,
tending to her needlework
,
while her father made ready to pay a visit to one of his patients.
In those brief moments, Vivianna mused
that
she could almost believe there
’
d never been a war.

War.
Vivianna felt her own smile fading.
Suddenly it seemed as if the
happy
sun
dimmed
,
as if a great veil of melancholy had been suddenly drawn over her eyes.
She tried to fight the dark and lonely feeling welling
up
inside her.
But somehow—for some reason—the moment was no longer bright and cheerful.
The memory of war was washing over her—the inward acknowledgement of such great loss.

Viv
i
anna closed her eyes
,
inhaled a deep
breath
,
attempted to ward off
the vision of her mother
’
s face, of her father
’
s smile, of Sam
and Augustus
’
s
mirthful laughter.
Yet it was too late.
Suddenly awash in memory, mourning
,
and anguish, Vivianna opened her eyes—turned from the view that seemed so happy a moment before.
It brought
only misery—misery in loss and loneliness.
Oh, certainly she was not alone—not with
the
Turners as her friends and surrogate family.
Yet in that moment, Vivianna Bartholomew felt more alone than she ever had before.
It was as if the war and the loss of her family—as if the pain of all that was lost—w
ere
heaped upon her in one horrid moment of true realization
.

Though she could not fathom why it was
her
heart and mind had chosen this moment to face the certainty of life without her family—chosen that very breath to whisper to her that once she married, her family
’
s branch of the Bartholomew name would cease to continue—still
,
they had chosen this moment to speak to her
,
and her joy was lost.
She no
longer
imagined her mother tending to her needlework—no longer imagined her father preparing to leave the house.
They were gone!
He
r
mother, her father
,
her beloved brothers!
All that made this house her home was gone.
She was orphaned and alone
;
it was all she knew in that moment.

At once her cheeks were washed in tears.
So violently did she tremble
,
with such overwhelming fear and despair
,
sadness
,
and misery
,
that she found she had to gasp for breath.
I
n those moments
—as she stood gazing up at her once beloved home—
she felt she might die
,
drop dead of the pain so thoroughgoing through her!
She wanted to feel her father
’
s arms about her
,
wanted Sam to tease her about her freckles
,
wanted Augustus to push her into the pond
,
pleaded with heaven that she should open her eyes to see her mother waiting, arms flung wide, in an offering of tender embrace.
But they were gone—all of them!
It would be
in another life that
she
would meet
with them once more
,
and the knowledge wrought such a pain over her as to cause her to again gasp.
She was certain she would die
,
or at least faint into darkness.