Since, I'm feeling so good about this, I decided to share another chapter. I look forward to comments.
The food was delicious and
much different. Slabs of bacon instead of heavy German sausages, and lightly
scrambled eggs instead of greasy fried, and no potatoes. Anna had sliced
tomatoes and cheese alongside the warm Brotchen. She poured everyone tall
glasses of freshly squeezed orange juice before she sat to fill her plate
brimming. William had put Robert in Dottie’s old wooden highchair, the one he’d
painted a ring of posies around the back, and filled the tray with a little of
everything from the table. Robert was overjoyed moving the food around, piling
it up, and licking his fingers. His face was smeared with orange marmalade
where he’d eaten the middle from the slice of bread. The air was light and talk
was easy with spatterings of laughter. Only Dottie was tense and solemnly
quiet. When Anna began clearing the table, Dottie rose and stepped to Granny’s
wheelchair.
“Come on Granny. I’ll take
you to your room. We have a lot to talk about.”
She saw the quick glance
Anna gave William and the short nod he gave Granny. Yes, they had plenty to
talk about.
“I’ll be down in a bit to
start dinner,” Dottie threw over her shoulder as you wheeled Granny through the
door.
“No need,” Anna said, “I
have it all under control.”
“I bet she does,” Dottie
said to Granny.
Granny’s room was spotless and smelled of rosewater.
Burgundy mums stood briskly in a window vase. Granny only wanted to wash her
face and hands. All the heavy cleaning had been done by Anna. Dottie got her
situated in the armchair by the window and she plopped crosslegged on the bed,
ready for the explanation of what she seen in the kitchen.
Yes,
Anna had moved into her old bedroom, Granny told her, and made it quite her
own. She’d taken down the eyelet curtains and replaced them with cream chintz
that matched the rose coverlet on the bed. She had silver and ivory inlaid
brushes, mirrors and combs that had belonged to Dottie’s mother laid out neatly
on the bare dresser top. She didn’t like doilies, Granny said. She was trying
to get Bill to let her re-do the kitchen, but that was taking some time. Even
though her things were in Dottie’s room, most of Anna’s time was spent in
Bill’s room once Granny went to bed. Granny could hear them whispering. She was
sure that a marriage was in the planning. At least Granny thought it should.
Anna was a good woman and she made Bill happy. That’s what Granny told Dottie.
It didn’t make Dottie feel any better that he could be cantankerous for years
with her and then be the perfect beau to a woman he hardly knew. Granny said she should be happy for him.
Dottie clucked.
They
talked for hours about the changes, her long strolls with Anna, about Boyd and
Hawaii, about Robert and his antics, about Mary and Jim. Dottie went to fetch
two lemonades and wondered where Anna and her father had gone—the house was
dark and silent. Granny dozed off with her head sinking into the silk pillow
Anna had made for her. Dottie lie on her back staring at the ceiling thinking
of how time just kept going no matter what happened. She too, slipped off to
sleep. They were both awakend by a soft tap on the doorjamb.
“Sorry
to disturb you,” said Anna, “but you should both come downstairs now.”
She sniffed and dabbed her eyes with one of Williams
hankies before she turned to go.
“Is
there something wrong, Anna,” asked Dottie.
“I
think your father wants to tell you.”
And she was gone. Dottie
heard her bare feet—another William Stroebe rule broken—padding down the
carpeting stairs. Dottie carried Granny down to the wheelchair and pushed her
toward the kitchen where Sammy Kaye’s Sunday Serenade was on the radio. Dottie
would’ve sworn that her father would be listening to a football game.
“Isn’t
there a football game on Father?”
“Please
sit down my dear. We were listening to the Giants and Dodgers game, but there
was a news broadcast cut in, so we switched over to NBC to see if they had
anything. Nothing yet, so maybe they were mistaken.”
“Mistaken
about what Bill? Asked Granny. “More war news?”
“Unfortunately,
Louise. Not good news either. It just might be time for us to get in the mix
over there.”
“Father,
“exclaimed Dottie, “what are you talking about.”
From the NBC newsroom in New York. President
Roosevelt said in a statement today that the Japanese had attacked Pearl Harbor
in Hawaii from the air. I’ll repeat that. President Roosevelt says that the
Japanese had attacked Pearl Harbor in Hawaii from the air. This bulletin has
came to you from the NBC newsroom in New York.
“That’s
the second announcement,” said Bill.
Anna cried openly now into the back of Williams’ head.
He patted her hands on his shoulders.
“William,
can there be a mistake?” asked Granny as she turned to take Dottie’s hands in
her tiny, frail ones.
“Dottie,
dear?”
“If they’ve
made two announcements on two different stations, I’d say it’s unlikely there’s
a mistake. Dorothy Emma? Are you okay?”
Dottie
stared at the radio. Things were sure different around here. The radio was on
top of the refrigerator when it used to be on the windowsill. She looked at the
empty windowsill. Sammy Kaye was singing again on the radio on top of the
refrigerator. Her face was wet but she didn’t know why because Sammy Kaye was
singing and she’d always liked Sammy Kaye. She looked at her hands that had
begun to tremble and wondered why she couldn’t stop them. She looked at Granny,
then she looked at Anna and noticed their faces were wet as well. It wasn’t
until she looked into her father’s eyes that she understood, screamed and
fainted.
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