Eighty and Out (9 page)

I spent the rest of the night trying to figure out how I would keep my promise to Jeannie. When we were young, her problems were easier to fix. I could be the big sister she expected me to be. Now that we were getting older, it was harder, and I woke the next morning no closer to having the solution than when I went to bed.

After breakfast, I headed to Bernice’s house, hoping she might have an idea. I knocked on her door, then rubbed my temples in an attempt to alleviate the throbbing pain in my head.

Bernice answered. Before saying hello, she said, “Whoa! When did you get the ring?”

“Last night.” I lifted my hand so she could take a better look. I was so engrossed in Jeannie’s drama I forgot I was even wearing it.

“It’s beautiful,” she said.

We should have been savoring another great moment together, but my mind was elsewhere.

“What’s going on? Is everything okay between you and Jim?”

“We’re good,” I said. “I’m just worried about Jeannie.”

I told her about Jim’s fruitless trip to the repair shop, and she frowned.

“So much for me being a genius,” she scoffed. Then she pursed her lips and began tapping her fingers on her knee. “Does Chuck’s family know who you are?”

“Not that I know of, why?”

Bernice described her plan.

“It could work,” I said.

“Do you want me to come with you?”

“No. I think I can do it on my own.”

Jeannie gave me Chuck’s address after I filled her in on what Bernice had suggested. Then I explained it all to Jim, and he agreed to drop me off nearby so I could approach the house on foot. In the meantime, I practiced the lines in my mind.

I rang the buzzer and waited, but no one answered. I considered leaving but couldn’t give up so easily. After a reasonable amount of time had passed, I rang the buzzer again.

The door swung open after the second ring. “Persistent, aren’t you,” said a man with disheveled hair and a grumpy expression.

I hadn’t rehearsed a response to that greeting. “Hello,” I tried to say in an upbeat tone.

“Not interested,” the man grumbled, then began closing the door.

“But I haven’t even said why I’m here.”

“You’re selling something. I’m not buying.”

“I’m not selling something. I’m here from school.”

The man looked confused.

I held up the pad of paper I had brought and took the cap off my pen. “I’m with the school newspaper,” I told him. “We’re doing a story on recent graduates to see what they’re doing now. You have a son named Chuck, right?”

The man crossed his arms in front of his chest. “I do.”

“Well, we’d like to know how he’s doing. If he’s working, away in college…”

There was a moment of silence that seemed to last forever. The man appeared to be considering my question as he studied me.

“Do you have any ID to prove you’re affiliated with the school?”

“No,” I mumbled, inwardly cursing that I hadn’t thought of that.

“Well, then I don’t feel comfortable discussing my son with you.”

He started closing the door, so I blurted, “Hold on. Let me explain.”

He paused, looking highly annoyed.

“Okay. I’m going to level with you. I don’t work for the school. But I am a student there.”

The man raised his eyebrow.

“Here’s the real story. My younger sister has a secret crush on your son. She met him at the auto shop. Since he left for Vietnam, she’s been worried sick, so I told her I’d find out how he’s doing without letting anyone in on her secret.”

The man’s expression softened, and he dropped his arms to his side. “Guess you kind of blew that promise, huh?”

I nodded, embarrassed beyond words. The plan had gone from bad to worse.

“Well, if I wasn’t a cop you might’ve fooled me. The school newspaper story was a pretty good ruse.”

My face flushed red, and I managed a smile. “I should have just been honest from the start.”

The man chuckled. “Don’t sweat it.” Then he rubbed his unshaven face, looking like he was trying to decide if he wanted to talk to me. And as he did so, I noticed his eyes had dark circles beneath them.

“How about I level with you too,” he said, holding my gaze. “After Chuck left he wrote a couple of times, then stopped. My gut told me to be concerned, and sure enough, soon afterward I got a phone call saying he was missing in action.”

“I…I don’t know what to say,” I replied in a hushed tone. “That’s terrible.”

Chuck’s dad nodded. “Now you know why I was reluctant to discuss my son. I’m only telling you so you can tell your sister.”

My heart sank. “I don’t know how I’m going to tell her this. She’s been waiting for him…” I stopped myself, realizing what Chuck’s father must be going through. He had to go to bed each night not knowing if his son was dead or alive.

“We’re all waiting for him,” he added. “At least waiting for word on where he is.”

My eyes filled with tears as I imagined all kinds of awful scenarios, none of which I wanted Jeannie to consider. Chuck’s dad turned away and stifled what sounded like a sniffle. He was clearly uncomfortable expressing emotion around a stranger.

“If I hear anything, I’ll let you know,” he said, clearing his throat. “What’s the best way to contact you?”

I gave him Jim’s name and the phone number to the apartment complex. I was in a daze as I walked back to the car. Jim jumped out when he saw me coming.

“Are you okay?” he asked. “What happened?”

I climbed in and told him everything. Tears spilled and Jim took me in his arms and held me tight. He rubbed my back and tried to soothe me.

“Poor Jeannie,” he said.

We drove to my house in silence.

Jim parked but kept the engine running. “Do you want me to tell her?” he offered, trying to save me from the dreaded task.

I considered us going in together, both of us telling her, but decided against it. “It’s best if I do it,” I said.

“I understand.” He squeezed my hand, and I gave him a kiss before getting out of the car.

“Good luck,” he said. “Let’s go out to dinner tomorrow night. Bring Jeannie along if she’s up for it.”

I smiled at him. “Okay.”

Jim drove away. Then I heard the front door open and saw Jeannie.

“What did you find out?” she asked.

It was dark outside, so she couldn’t see me until I got closer. When she could make out my face, she repeated, “What did you find out, Lou?” Her shaky voice meant she could tell by my expression that it wasn’t good.

“Why don’t you put your coat on and we’ll go for a walk,” I said.

Jeannie disappeared and returned wearing her coat, gloves, and scarf. Then she followed me outside. I had planned to go to the park and tell her there, but she grabbed my arm and said, “I want to know what you found out about Chuck.”

I stopped and looked at her. “He’s missing,” I said. “They don’t know where he is.”

Jeannie looked confused, like it wasn’t something she’d considered. “Like he took off?” she asked. “Went AWOL?”

“No. He’s missing in action.”

She looked at me, horrified. “No!”

She wobbled a bit, so I grabbed hold of her, worried she may faint. As I pulled her close, she kept shouting, “No,” over and over. Eventually, the shouts faded to sobs, and all I was able to do was hold her in my arms and pray to God that what we were both thinking wasn’t true.

As the school year went on, Jeannie’s grades got progressively worse. She wasn’t into studying that much to begin with, and with the added stress of worrying about Chuck, her mind just wasn’t there.

“You’ve got to get her to focus,” Bernice warned as we finished cleaning one of the units so the tenants could move in.

“I’ve tried. She’s just too preoccupied. The only time I’ve seen her in a decent mood was when I asked her to help me decide on furniture.” I put the last of the cleaning supplies in the bucket and gathered our things. “I wish Chuck’s dad would hear some news soon. I mean, if Chuck is dead, she could at least grieve him and move on. It’s this being in limbo thing that’s got her so down.”

Bernice didn’t seem to fully understand. Studying came first with her, no matter what. She’d never let a boy come between her and her books.

“How about we talk about a happier topic,” she suggested. “Like your wedding and eighteenth birthday.”

I grinned. “Only a few more weeks. Jim’s already got the apartment set up. We’re just waiting on the stove to be delivered.”

“Pretty soon you’ll be a married woman. We won’t be able to get into trouble like we used to.”

I burst out laughing. “What do you mean? We’ve never gotten into trouble. We’re the dullest kids around.”

“I had an overdue library book once,” Bernice joked, and the look on her face made me laugh even harder.

We locked the apartment.

“Well, we’ve got three more weeks to get crazy. This is our last chance,” Bernice declared.

“You want to pitch pennies at the old spot? See if we can score some gum?” I suggested, feeling a little nostalgic.

“I got a better idea. How about we go to Marshall Field’s and get a dress for me to wear to the wedding?”

“Okay. You want to eat at the Walnut Room afterward?”

“Yes!” Bernice said.

If that was our version of getting crazy, it was fine by me.

We dropped the buckets and cleaning supplies off at my house, then walked to Bernice’s so she could get some money. After a brief train ride, we arrived under the big green State Street clock and went inside.

The evening gowns were beautiful but a bit too glamorous for our wedding, a small ceremony conducted by a justice of the peace. “Look at these,” Bernice said as she pointed at a section of day dresses that were more appropriate. We browsed and chose a few, then a saleslady offered to take us to a fitting room. Bernice spun around after trying on each one, and after hemming and hawing, we chose a floral number that went well with shoes she already owned.

With that taken care of, Bernice and I headed to the Walnut Room, where a serious-looking older gentleman greeted us and took us to our table. Once seated, I glanced around, admiring the walnut paneled walls, Austrian chandeliers, and opulent marble fountain.

“Everything looks so good,” Bernice said as she eyed the menu. “But I have to get the chicken pot pie since it’s all everyone talks about.”

“Me, too,” I said, hungry from cleaning and shopping all day.

The waiter took our order, two pot pies and two Cokes, and then disappeared.

“You getting nervous about the big night yet?” Bernice asked.

I paused. Like most girls, I had planned on waiting until my wedding night. The waiter returned and set our Cokes on the table. Bernice reached for hers and took a sip.

“We already did it,” I said.

Bernice’s eyes bulged and she almost choked on her drink. “And you didn’t tell me?”

“I was worried you’d think I was a floozy.”

She looked me in the eye. “I would never think that about you.” Then she leaned in and whispered, “I heard it hurts.”

“It only hurts the first time.”

Bernice smiled. “The first time? How many times did you do it? Wait…don’t answer that.” She sighed. “I’ve never even kissed a guy yet.”

“Well, it’s not like you didn’t have opportunities. You put the kibosh on every one,” I reminded her.

“True.”

Our food came and the scent rising from the flaky crust was heavenly. I poked the pie with my fork and blew on it and took a bite.

“Mmm,” I said. “This is almost as good as sex.”

Bernice’s eyes grew large again, then she snorted and we laughed between bites of the most amazing pot pies we’d ever tasted.

The next few weeks flew by. Mom and Dad were preparing for me to get married and leave home, which seemed to both excite and depress them, and I was studying for exams, packing my belongings, and trying to cheer up Jeannie.

“Once school’s out, I’m going to need a lot of help unpacking,” I told her.

“No problem,” she said.

“And next weekend, the sofa is being delivered. Jim has an appointment across town, and I don’t want to be alone when the delivery men show up. Do you think you can stay with me?”

Jeannie looked at me. “Sure.”

She was a girl of few words nowadays, but at least she was talking. Mom and Dad had grown increasingly worried about her as time went on, and my story of “she’s just at that age” was becoming less and less believable.

“We’re having dinner after the wedding at Mariano’s,” Mom said as we folded laundry. “I figured since we’re a small group that would be the perfect place.”

Mom and Dad had insisted on paying for the food. Jim’s dad fought them on it, but gave in when they said they wouldn’t hear of him treating. The truth was Jim’s dad could have paid for a lavish reception, but he and Jim decided that would be a waste of money, and that it was better to invest in expanding their business.

I didn’t care much about the reception. All I could think about was that I was getting married. It was a day I had dreamt of since I was a little girl. I smiled to myself, remembering my western dream again. Jim was no rancher, but he made me happier than anyone else, and I knew he would make a great father, one who could provide for his family.

On the last day of school, Bernice and I were getting ready to walk home when Frankie came over.

“Hey, Lou. I heard you and Jim are engaged. Just wanted to say congratulations. Jim’s a great guy.”

“Thanks,” I replied, letting bygones be bygones. “I think so, too.”

He nodded and moved along, then Bernice and I went to her house.

“I’ve got a surprise for you,” she said when we walked into her room.

“You do?”

She reached into her top dresser drawer and pulled out a bag from Marshall Field’s. I had been with her the whole time and hadn’t seen her buy anything other than the dress.

“How’d you—?”

“My mom and I went back together.” She smiled and handed it to me. “Open it. It’s an early birthday present/wedding gift.”

I set the bag down, pulled the tissue-wrapped contents out and carefully opened the spot that had been secured with a sticker. It was one of the most exquisite ivory lace and silk nightgowns I’d ever seen.

I lifted it up by its straps and admired it. “It’s beautiful,” I said. “I can’t believe you did this. I love it!”

Bernice smiled. “Good,” she said. “Seeing you happy made those few extra nights of babysitting worth it.”

I knew how she loathed watching the twins next door, preferring to work at the apartment complex for Jim’s dad. That made the gift extra special.

“Thanks so much. This means a lot to me.”

She nodded. “You’re welcome. Only the best for my best friend.”

We went outside afterward. I pulled a penny out of my pocket and threw it against the side of the house and watched as it landed in the grass instead of on the cement below. “I’m pretty rusty,” I said.

Bernice walked over and collected the coin. She blew the dust off of it, then stepped back, got into position and tossed. The penny sailed through the air, tapped the side of the house and fell straight down, landing where the first brick met the pavement.

She turned to me and smiled. “I still got it.”

“Yes, you do.”

We took turns throwing the penny until the sun began to set, painting the sky burnt orange. When we couldn’t see what we were doing any more, we called it a night. I thanked her for the gift again and began walking home. With every step, it felt like I was saying goodbye to my childhood.