Part 23 (2/2)

”I tell you what, Shannie,” I said, using the nickname I'd given her when she was a toddler. ”If those plans fall through and you end up staying here, I'll be happy to baby-sit for you.”

Her mouth fell open in surprise. Then she smiled.

”Nana,” she said. ”I love you.”

”I love you, too, darling,” I said.

She pushed her Big Mac aside. ”I think I'm going to get a salad,” she said, rising to her feet. I told her to stay put, and then I went behind the counter and got her the healthiest salad we made.

As I drove home later that afternoon, I felt good about how I'd handled things with Shannon. I thought I'd given her what she needed-some loving kindness, free of judgment. That's what Isabel had needed, too, but that was not what she'd received from me.

My good mood ended the moment I got in my door. The phone was ringing, and when I picked it up, there was Ross Chapman once again.

”Maria,” he said. Even speaking that one small word seemed to be a great effort for him. The three syllables came out slowly, sadly. ”Has your daughter told you what's going on?” he asked.

I closed my eyes. I was angry beyond measure at him. I believed he'd lied for his son, and now he was badgering me for forgiveness he was never going to get.

”You mean, did she tell me about Ned's admission of guilt?” I responded, and then I hung up. I had let that man toy with my mind before. It was not going to happen again.

1942-1944.

On the first day of my senior year at the New Jersey College for Women, I arrived in New Brunswick still able to taste Ross's kisses in my mouth and feel his hands on my b.r.e.a.s.t.s. We had grown ever bolder during that summer, each of us seeing several other people in order to avoid leading one person on, as I was afraid I may have done with Fred. Many of the young men-Fred included-were fighting in the war at that time, so Ross had quite a few more dating options than I did, but I did my best. Ross had been drafted, but at his physical exam they discovered a minor heart problem and he was cla.s.sified 4-F. Although I was patriotic when it came to the war and felt everyone should do his or her part, I was relieved he did not have to go.

My parents had made friends with another couple in Bay Head Sh.o.r.es and they often went to their house to play bridge, leaving our bungalow empty. When I knew they would be gone, Ross and I canceled whatever dates we had for that night and we would have the house to ourselves, free to satisfy the hunger we felt for each other. The summer had been filled with cunning, deception, and a fierce physical pa.s.sion. I could barely tear myself away from him that last night at the sh.o.r.e.

The fraternity down the street from our sorority house had a ”welcome back to school” party the night of my arrival. I went with some girlfriends who were anxious to meet some of the Rutgers boys, even if most of them were ”4-Fers,” but my heart wasn't in it. I was standing in a doorway, missing Ross and already writing a letter to him in my mind, when a young man approached me. He walked with a p.r.o.nounced limp, and something about his eyes reminded me of Ross. That was the only reason I could think of for the instant, feverish attraction I felt toward him. He introduced himself to me as Charles Bauer.

”A lovely girl like you shouldn't be standing here alone,” he said. ”Would you like to dance?”

”Sure,” I said. I moved easily into his arms. He was an awkward dancer because of his limp, but he didn't seem at all selfconscious about it and I didn't care a bit, because he felt like Ross in my arms. He was the same height, his shoulders the same slender width, and he used Canoe aftershave, the same as Ross. I inhaled as I rested my head in the crook of his neck, near tears with missing my lover.

After a few minutes, he leaned his head away from mine. ”Is something the matter?” he asked.

I started to cry. He let go of me, took my hand and led me outside. We sat on the front steps, the sounds of the party behind us.

”What does a beautiful girl like you have to cry about?”he asked.

”I'm sorry,” I said, then lied because it was the only way I could possibly explain my sorrow. ”I recently broke up with someone.”

”And you still care about him,” Charles said.

I nodded.

”That happened to me, too,” he said, pulling his handkerchief from his pocket and handing it to me.

”Recently?” I asked, pressing the handkerchief to the corners of my eyes. He was very attractive. A gas lamp burned in the front of the yard and I could see that he did not really resemble Ross one bit. He was brown-haired, for pity's sake, while Ross was fair. His eyes were also brown, while Ross's were a smoky gray. But he was handsome, all the same, and sitting there, I still felt drawn to him.

”We broke up a while ago,” he said. ”When I was stationed in Hawaii.”

”Hawaii?” I asked. I thought of his limp. ”Were you at Pearl Harbor when...?”

He nodded. ”That's where I got this b.u.m leg,” he said, patting his right thigh with his palm.

”That must have been terrible,” I said.

”Much worse for a lot of other people than it was for me,” he said. ”I wanted to go back, but they wouldn't let me. I hate feeling useless here at home.”

”But you're in school now,” I said, admiring his patriotism. ”That's not being useless. What are you studying?”

”Medicine,” he said.

”Oh!” I was impressed. ”You want to be a doctor.”

”I always have,” he said. ”I thought it would have to wait until the war ends-if it ever does-but I guess that was the one bonus of getting injured. Now, my dream's within reach. And how about you?”

”This is my senior year,” I said. ”I'm going to teach.”

”That's wonderful!” he said, as if I'd said that I, too, planned to become a doctor. ”Did you always want to be a teacher?”

”Well-” I smiled ”-I've actually always wanted to have a family, but I think it's important for a woman to be able to support herself.”

He nodded. ”You're a very smart girl,” he said. ”I want to raise a family myself, but I also want to be sure I can provide well for them.”

What a remarkable man, I thought. I liked that he didn't denigrate my choice of career. Ross had made light of my studies as though they were inconsequential.

I smoothed my skirt over my legs and wrapped my arms around my knees. ”What kind of doctor do you want to be?” I asked.

”A pediatrician,” he said. ”I was sick when I was a boy and that's when I decided.”

”So,” I said, ”we've both chosen careers that will let us help children.”

He looked suddenly excited and turned toward me, reaching for my hand. ”Maria,” he said, ”you need to tell me something right now.”

”What?”

”Please tell me you're Catholic.”

I laughed. ”I am, but why?”

”Because in the thirty minutes since I first spotted you across the living room, I've fallen in love with you,” he said. ”And you being Catholic will make it so much easier. Is there a chance you might like to go to ma.s.s with me tomorrow? Then maybe we could have lunch together afterward.”

I liked his impulsiveness. It excited me, and I had to admit that I'd become a girl in need of excitement. A strange little tugof-war was going on inside me, though. Only two days before, I'd been secretly making love to a man. Now I was being invited to ma.s.s as a date. My family was Catholic, that was no lie, but we were holiday Catholics, attending church on Christmas and Easter and only occasionally in between. I felt as though G.o.d was intervening in my life at that very moment. He was giving me an opportunity to turn myself around and put an end to my deceitful and immoral behavior. I felt the sorrow over leaving Ross turn into a sort of relief and grat.i.tude. This lovely man, Charles Bauer, who had fought for his country and longed to be a physician and raise a family, might be able to save me from myself.

”I would like that so much,” I said.

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