Part 13 (1/2)
Katherine withdrew her hand and glared at him. ”You're patronizing me! I'm not a child. I'll prove it to you!”
Sean stepped back. ”You're a lovely woman, Miss Ritchie, who will break many hearts. After the war is over, you won't be interested in a broken down old soldier like me.”
She stood and kissed him on the cheek while pressing something into his hand. ”For luck.” Before he could protest, she was gone.
He looked down and saw a carved Hawaiian gold pendant on the end of a chain with the word, Kuuipo-sweetheart-written in black. Sean smiled as he put it around his neck.
Mary recognized Sean the minute he walked into the gift shop where she worked. He looked around at the merchandise before stopping in front of a gla.s.s case full of music boxes.
Mary whispered to the other salesgirl Helen, ”Let me have this one. I know him.”
Helen shrugged and kept reading her book. ”Go ahead.”
Mary walked purposefully to Sean. ”Can I help you?”
”Yes I'd like to see some music boxes, please.” Sean kept his eyes were on the various music boxes.
”Any one in particular?”
”That one looks nice.” He pointed to a miniature carousel.
Mary opened the case, removed the music box and smiled. ”The song is 'Here We Go Round the Mulberry Bush.'”
Sean shook his head, ”It's not very appropriate, I'm afraid.” Peering at her, he said, ”Excuse me, but you look familiar.”
Mary grinned. ”Remember Mary? From Kohala?”
Sean's face lit up. ”You're the girl who loves books! How could I forget such a pretty face? How are you?”
”Fine, thank you,” Mary put the music box back on the shelf. ”Are you looking for a music box for someone special?”
”Yes,” he paused. ”But I'm afraid I'm not very good at this.”
”I have just the thing.” She took out a music box with a dancing couple and wound it. The figurines swirled around to a haunting melody.
Sean touched the figure of the blond girl. ”What's the song?”
”Der Litzle Walzer, The Last Waltz,” Mary watched the figurines twirling. It was her favorite music box. ”You know it?”
”Yes. It's perfect, thank you.” Sean handed the music box to her. His fingers brushed against hers.
Mary felt something stir between them. But it was only her imagination, she decided. ”Are you off to war like the rest of the young men?”
”Why do you ask?”
”Because many young men come in here to buy gifts for their sweethearts to remember them by before they leave. Music boxes are sentimental favorites of both men and women.”
”Then you have found me out. I'm off to join the war effort.”
Mary felt his eyes on her as she walked to the register. ”I hope whoever you're giving this box to saves the last waltz for you.”
”I hope so too, Mary.”
Mary turned and looked into his blue eyes bright with hope and desire. For one brief, irrational moment, she envied the woman who was able to do that to him.
Sean stood before the ma.s.sive front door of Meg's home. As it swung open, he wondered if she would see him.
The j.a.panese maid who opened the door stared, ”Who you?”
”Please tell Mrs. Brandon Sean Duffy is calling.”
”I tell.” the maid, closed the door. After a few minutes, she returned and muttered, ”Missus say she see you in library.”
Sean followed Meg's housekeeper to a dark sitting room. Meg was standing behind a Koa Wood rocker, one hand crossed over her breast, ma.s.saging her shoulder. Her eyes were frosty lights, and her hair was wild, as if it hadn't been brushed for days. The muumuu she wore was slightly disheveled.
When she saw him she blanched and grabbed the back of the rocker as if it were a life raft. ”Why are you here?”
Meg reeked of alcohol.
”To say goodbye.”
”Why? Did you join the army?”
”It's my patriotic duty.”
”Is that what you call it?” Meg snorted. ”Tell me, please, why would you risk dying? For our government? Our money? Our system? Or is it guilt?” She giggled.
Her drunken words rang true. He needed to atone. How could she have guessed that? ”Does it matter? Isn't it enough I'm going?”
Meg wobbled, ”There are too many whys we must answer before it's too late.”
Sean took her hands in his and sat her down in a rocking chair. He knelt in front of her, still holding onto her hands. ”I need you to try to understand.”
”Don't waste your time. Can't you see I'm drunk?” She pulled her hands away. ”Disgusting, isn't it?”
”All I see is a desperately unhappy woman,” Sean touched the hem of her sleeve. ”I would give anything to make you happy.”
Meg chortled. ”All men are full of cheap lines and false promises.”
”Let me help you.” Sean took her hand in his and kissed its palm.
”No. It's too late.” She pushed him away.
”I bought something for you.” He handed her the present he brought. But when she refused to take it, he unwrapped it, and wound it up. The dancers spun on the tabletop. When the music stopped, he looked at her.
Meg stood. She began to shake and sway. ”You don't understand. It's too late. There's nothing left.”