Promise Kept, page 15
“What are you doing out here?”
“Waiting for you, Art.” She clutched an envelope in her lap.
A spark of warmth spread through him. “Do I spy a letter? Is it from home?”
She smiled, revealing a gap between her teeth. “It’s from my mum. She says everyone’s fine.” A frown threatened to darken her face. “Though the letter’s three weeks old.”
“But at least you received one.”
“Yes, sir. Oh, Josie wanted to warn you she didn’t try to start the kitchen on fire.”
Art took a second look at Cassandra. The child seemed completely sincere in her statement. He bolted up the stairs. As he climbed, whiffs of smoke hung in the air. He waved a hand in front of his face.
“Josie?”
“Here.” The muffled sound drifted from the kitchen. He laughed when he saw her. She’d tied a towel around her nose and mouth and looked like she wanted to join Butch Cassidy’s gang.
“What happened?”
She tried to wave like nothing much, but tears streamed from her eyes. “Bacon got away from me.”
He rushed to her side and grabbed her face between his hands. He turned her head from side to side as he examined what he could see of her face. “Are you okay?”
“Feeling foolish. I should be able to cook bacon without this happening.” She sucked in a deep breath, then started coughing.
A surge of relief relaxed muscles he hadn’t realized were tense. “What if I lost you?” He pulled her close and pulled the towel from her face. He leaned down and claimed her mouth with a kiss. She sighed against him. “Please be careful.”
Josie relaxed against him a moment, then pushed away. “To think all I wanted to do was make supper.”
He settled at the table and watched her work. “I need to ask you something.”
“What?”
“What happened at your tea party?”
“Nothing. Mrs. Allen got offended or upset when I mentioned it would be a great idea if we all got behind a drive for less fortunate children.” Josie shrugged. “I think some of the others liked the idea, but they quickly followed her lead. Diane and I may try it on our own.”
Art scratched his head. He still couldn’t see the problem in that.
“What’s wrong?” Josie eyed him as if trying to decipher what weighed him down.
“E.K. placed me on probation today.”
Josie covered her mouth. “Why?”
“Something about being unsure I could do my job, and my wife upsetting Mrs. Allen.”
She crumpled in front of him. “I am so sorry, Art.” She looked crushed. “I only wanted to help. I didn’t know how to help, but my mom always has social gatherings like that for the wives of dad’s colleagues.”
He put a finger on her lips, and she stilled. In the face of her panic, his frustration seemed so petty. He could understand the urge to do something and not getting it quite right. “It’s okay. We’ll figure this out.”
“What will we do?”
“Not panic. I haven’t lost my job. I shouldn’t, either.”
“But why would your Grandfather even let them threaten probation?” Tears streaked Josie’s cheeks, giving her the appearance of a child.
“I don’t know.” He led her to the couch, then pulled her into his embrace.
❧
Footsteps echoed off the stairs, and Josie turned to find Cassandra standing in the doorway.
“Are you okay, Josie?” The girl rushed to her side, fear causing her pupils to dilate.
Josie swiped the tears from her face. “Of course.” At the child’s dubious look, Josie chucked her under the chin and smiled. “Would you help me with dinner?”
The child bobbed to her feet. “Grilled cheese?”
She looked at Art, who shrugged. “Grilled cheese it is.”
After dinner, Cassandra pulled out the checkerboard. “Play a game with me?”
“Absolutely. Hope you’re ready to lose.” Art struck a pose, shaking both fists in the air like he’d already won the round. Cassandra rolled her eyes.
“Last time, I took all your pieces.”
“Luck, that’s all it was.”
Cassandra shook her head. “I’m happy to show you how real checkers are played.”
Josie loved the nine-year-old’s poise and spunk. Josie watched her teach Art a thing or two about strategy. This same spirit translated at school where she’d made a couple of friends in addition to Ruth.
After several games where Cassandra trounced him, Josie looked at the clock. “Off to bed, young lady. You still have school in the morning.”
Cassandra groaned before leaving to brush her teeth and change.
“She’s blossoming.”
Warmth flooded Josie. “I think we’ve hit on what she needs. The freedom to be scared for her family, but also distractions to keep her from living there.”
The week passed, and Josie knew she should heed her own advice. She should have had her baby about this time. As the day approached, the grief that had been lulled to sleep reared its ugly head at random times. She’d feel delight watching Cassandra or talking with Art, then be blindsided by sadness and at times anger.
Her arms ached from their emptiness. And she felt alone in that pain. Doris tried to ease it, but Josie didn’t want Doris to understand. She needed Art to understand.
Art pulled her next to him on the davenport. “Want to talk about it?”
“It’s complex.”
“Most things are.”
“I miss our baby.” A tear trickled down her cheek, and Art brushed it away. “I’m back to wondering. Why did it happen? Why didn’t God prevent it?”
“I wish I had answers for you, Josie.”
“I just need to know that you miss the baby, too.”
Art wrapped her in his arms. “Not the way you do, but I do. I wonder what he would have looked like, but it’s different.”
Josie nodded.
“Somehow, God will turn it into something good.”
“I know. But it’s hard to see that right now. Every time I open the Bible, His promises leap off the page. He collects my tears. He promises to turn what the enemy intended for evil to good.” She shuddered. “But my arms are still empty.”
“Then fill them with Cassandra and me.”
Josie longed to be like Joseph. To be able to look at her heartbreak and see how God had turned it into a wonderful thing. Instead, she felt broken and empty. But Art stood next to her. Her promise to him was worth keeping with every fiber of her being.
In sickness and in health. In good times and in bad. She was committed to Art for the rest of her life. And she would live that love.
Twenty-two
The vocals of Fred Astaire singing “The Way You Look Tonight” swept into the room from the radio. Quivers ran through Josie as she sat at her vanity. She wanted Art to feel about her the way Lucky Garnett had felt about Penny. . .until he noticed her hair filled with suds.
Her reflection bounced off the mirror. She couldn’t find fault with it, but a seriousness filled the edges of her face that hadn’t touched her when she’d married Art a year earlier.
One year.
So much had changed. She’d experienced a sadness she’d never known. At times, her breath still caught at the thought of what should have been. But God was God, and she had to trust Him. Trust that He had her best at heart. This year, she’d made the decision to live that trust.
But joy had also filled the year. The joy of knowing the love of a good man. She still didn’t know how to describe it other than to thank God for him from a grateful heart.
Art was a gift. She certainly didn’t understand him yet. But he balanced her in ways she hadn’t expected.
She pinched her cheeks, trying to encourage color to bloom on them. He’d be home in a few minutes, and then they would celebrate their anniversary. Cassandra had already gone down to Scott and Doris’s apartment, where she would spend the night.
Art had told Josie to dress up, though he wouldn’t tell her where he’d made reservations. The long rose gown in taffeta with its bolero jacket looked like something Ginger Rogers would wear in a formal dance scene. Was that what he had in mind?
The door squeaked. She jumped. That must be Art.
“Honey, I’m home.”
Time was up. She pulled the dress over her slip and zipped it as he walked into the room. The sight of her working at the zipper brought a smile to Art’s face, the kind of smile that warmed her from the inside out.
“Need any help with that?” The twinkle in his eye conveyed his meaning.
“Oh no. I very much want to see this place where you’ve got reservations.”
“We’ll have the best seat in the house.”
Something about the way he said it made her a bit nervous. “Am I overdressed?”
Art eyed her up and down. He motioned for her to turn in a circle. She complied, then dipped for a curtsy. “I’d say you’re perfect.”
His approval brought warmth flooding into her cheeks. How she loved this man.
❧
Josie looked so appealing with the color flooding her face. He loved the way he could make her blush with a look or a whispered comment.
Would she be pleased when she saw what he had planned? He hoped so. The key was to make the evening memorable in every way. A night she would never forget.
His plan should accomplish that. Her thoughts? Well, he’d have to wait and see.
He looked at his watch. “Ready to go?”
Josie plopped at her little table and frowned at him from the mirror. “Do I look ready?”
How to answer that? She always looked good to him. Even when she lay in bed, rumpled from a hard night’s sleep, hair plastered to her face, and sleep softening her expression. But how to explain that she was beautiful because she had chosen him?
Laughter filled her eyes. “Give me a few minutes, and I’ll be ready.” She picked up her brush and made a motion like she would swat him if he didn’t leave. He could take a hint.
The sight of her in her gown should have woken him up. Instead, he felt half-asleep and lethargic. Some cold water might do the trick. He turned on the tap in the bathroom and let it run a minute. He scooped water up with both hands and threw it on his face. The blast woke him up but splattered all over his shirt. Not the brightest thing he’d ever done.
He had an excuse, though. It was Friday, and the week had worn him out. The day had taken so many twists and turns at work, he didn’t know which way to turn next. E. K. Fine still had clear thoughts on where he wanted the company to go. How it should prepare for the war. He couldn’t seem to let go of the company he’d sold. In a few weeks, he’d be gone, but he made life difficult for everyone as he loudly proclaimed his beliefs—beliefs directly opposed to Grandfather’s. Art stood in the middle, pulled by both sides of the debate.
A buzzing filled his ears at the thought of the intense argument he’d overheard.
He shook his head. Tonight was not a night to dwell on what happened at work. He could do nothing about that, but he could focus on his bride. She deserved his complete attention.
As she walked out of their room to meet him, he couldn’t take his eyes off her. Dressed like that, she deserved his full focus. She’d done something with her hair that made it sweep off her graceful neck. He didn’t know what to call it, but he liked it. All she needed was a rose at her ear to be picture perfect. He wanted to smack himself on the forehead. He should have thought of that. What woman didn’t like flowers for her anniversary? He certainly couldn’t find them in the crisp weather outside. Maybe she wouldn’t notice his oversight.
“Shall we?” He offered his arm. He pulled her closer and inhaled the sweet scent of her violet perfume. He could come home to this for the rest of his life. He was blessed among men.
Squeals erupted from the Duncans’ apartment as they hopped down the stairs. He loved seeing Cassandra happy, with a smile that lit up her eyes.
“She’s happy, isn’t she?” Contentment laced Josie’s voice.
Art tucked her arm more firmly through his. “She is, thanks to you.”
“I’m just grateful God gave me insight.” She sighed. “I wish I’d asked sooner.”
Wasn’t that the case with so much of life? Art would struggle and wrestle with a problem for days, weeks, or even months on his own. Then he’d hit a point where he knew he couldn’t fix or solve it on his own. Finally, he’d acknowledge he needed God’s help. What a mixed-up way to approach life.
Art helped Josie into the Packard and then raced around to the driver’s side. Quiet conversation floated between them, but Josie never asked where he was taking her. She seemed content to let him surprise her.
This had to be perfect.
He so wanted to honor her tonight. Let her know that he knew what this year had been for her. Show her in a way that he couldn’t convey with words.
❧
Art zipped along streets that Josie was pretty sure she hadn’t traveled before. He seemed determined to take her on a grand adventure. In all likelihood, it would rival the journey of their first year.
She settled back against the seat, content to let him have his fun. He fiddled with the radio until he found a song. She scooted closer to him as Tommy Dorsey’s band serenaded them with “I’ll Be Seeing You.”
“ ‘I’ll be looking at the moon, but all I’ll see is you,’ ” Art crooned, making sappy eyes at her.
“Hey, you, get your attention back on the road.”
He laughed and pulled to a stop. The engine idled as he leaned over to kiss her. She sank into it, feeling the sparks ignite a warmth that spiraled all the way down to her toes.
With a groan he pulled back, brushing a hand along her jaw with feather strokes. “Have I told you lately how much I love you?”
The words resonated to the core of her being. “I love you more.”
“Not possible.”
“I think this is a competition we can afford.”
His soft chuckle tickled her ear. “Agreed.” He leaned away and grabbed the steering wheel. She felt a sudden chill. “Back to the planned activities.”
“Spontaneous is good.” Did she really purr the words?
Art slipped back into traffic, and after a few more turns, he parked the car. “Here we are.”
“Here?” Josie squinted but couldn’t see anything she recognized. “Sorry, I have no idea where here is.”
He hopped out of the car and then helped her out. “This is the Abbot Observatory.”
An observatory?
“Josie, I want to share the stars with you. Here they have telescopes that allow us to see far into space.” He led her through some trees to a brick building that looked Greek in its portico style but had a large dome that rose behind the facade.
She bobbled as he helped her up the stone stairs. Once they were inside, she was glad she’d brought her coat. “Why isn’t the dome enclosed?”
“The air inside and out needs to be the same temperature, or it distorts the images.”
Not only was he handsome, Art remained one of the smartest men she knew.
“What?”
“Amazed by your mental prowess.”
He tugged her toward the telescope like a kid leading a parent to the candy counter. “Look through here.” He pointed at a piece that stuck out from the telescope.
“All right.” She ducked a bit and placed an eye on the piece. What had been pinpricks of light in the night sky evolved into brilliant, pulsing lights.
“Isn’t it amazing?”
She nodded, then decided he might not see her in the deepening twilight. “Breathtaking.”
“Yes, you are.”
Heat flushed her cheeks again, but this time she gratefully accepted the cover of darkness. They explored the night sky until she was too chilled to stay out any longer. Art placed his coat around her shoulders as they walked back to the car.
He turned her toward him. “Josie, I don’t say this enough. I know this year has been hard. There are things we would change, but I need you to know that you are the only person I would want to share the experiences with. I’m praying the good always overtakes the bad. But even if it doesn’t, I am so glad you chose me.”
Twin tears perched on her cheeks, glistening in the moonlight. He dabbed at her tears.
“I love you, Art Wilson.”
He linked her arm through his and continued the walk to the car. The Packard came into view, and their pace quickened. He settled her into the car, even helping collect her skirt. He searched her face, and she waited.
Finally, he smiled and leaned in.
With a kiss that left her weak in the knees.
To think she had a lifetime to enjoy those.
That had to make her most blessed of women. And by the look in Art’s eye, he agreed.
Twenty-three
“Art Wilson. In my office now.” E. K. Fine’s voice roared across the room.
Art looked up. Charlie gave him a pointed look. Art shrugged. Stan just smirked at him. If he knew what this was about but wasn’t telling, Art might have to shake the belligerence out of him regardless of the fifty pounds Stan had on him. Speed and youth had to count for something.
Trailing E.K. to his office, Art kept his eyes and ears open for any information that would be helpful in the meeting.
E.K. barged through his door and headed to his desk. Art stopped as if he’d run into a wall when he entered. Grandfather sat in a chair in front of the desk. Art’s spine stiffened, and his senses went on alert.
Would Grandfather allow E.K. to fire him? Art didn’t want to think so, but Grandfather had been clear he had high expectations for Art to meet.
“Sit down, Wilson.” E.K.’s voice punctured Art’s thoughts. Grandfather arched an eyebrow but kept his gaze focused on his steepled fingers.
Only two chairs sat in front of E.K.’s desk. Art sank into the corner of the one opposite Grandfather. Silence settled over the room. Art determined not to fidget but felt like a kid called into the principal’s office.
