Sentimental Journey (Home Front - Book #1) (20 page)

She cradled his beloved face between her hands and kissed him soundly. “Oh, Tommy,” she whispered. “Don’t you ever go away again, you hear me?”

“I’m back, Doro.” He held her close and she felt his tears against the side of her neck. “I’m back.”

June 21, 1945

Dear Gerry,

Well, my dad is home at last. He arrived safe and sound yesterday on the
Queen Mary
. Can you believe 14,526 soldiers all came back together! I don’t have to tell you that my mother is beside herself with happiness. She’s fussing over him constantly, making certain he has lemonade and clean shirts and all the back issues of Reader’s Digest that he missed. I don’t think I’ve ever seen her so happy in my entire life.

I almost hate to write this, but I have to say it to somebody—Daddy isn’t the same. And it’s not the gray hairs or the weight he’s lost—it’s something a lot more complicated and scary. The look in his eyes is different. Gerry, it’s almost like he’s not really there, you know? Last night everyone on the block came over and Mom put together an impromptu party and even though my father said and did all the right things, you didn’t have to be a genius to see he wasn’t enjoying himself at all. Cathy tried to tell him all about the company and how well things are going and he just said, “That’s nice, princess,” and continued thumbing through the June 1944
Reader’s Digest
.

Well, I guess it really doesn’t matter, does it? Come Monday, Daddy’ll be back at work and everything will settle down the way it used to be. At least I hope so.

All my love forever,

Nancy

* * *

“You old fool,” Dot whispered to her reflection in the mirror as she struggled with the ribbon tie on her brand-new peignoir set. “Married almost twenty-five years and you’re trembling like a bride on her wedding night.”

Which, of course, in a way it was. How strange the slither of lace felt against her bare skin. How powerful and seductive her thoughts. Tom had been home for two nights now. Each night she had come to bed, giddy with anticipation, to find him snoring deeply. He was tired, she knew, but it was time.

She glanced at herself in the revealing—and terribly foreign—negligee. “Don’t go losing your nerve, Dorothy,” she warned herself. “This is your husband. Go to him.”

He was standing near the bedroom window, smoking. He was thinner than she’d remembered, and older, but then time had wrought changes in her, as well. Her heart ached as she thought of the years they had lost, at the thatch of gray hair that salted the brown.

“Tommy.” She stood near the foot of the bed, arms at her sides.

He turned slowly, almost reluctantly. No! She wouldn’t think thoughts like that. Foolish ideas had been popping into her head all day.
Something’s wrong
, her mind would say.
He isn’t the same Tom who went to war
, but she pushed these thoughts firmly aside and would allow them no quarter. She noticed that his hand trembled. Her heart went out to him.

“You look beautiful, Doro.”

She lowered her eyes. “Thank you.”
We’re acting like strangers, Tommy. Sweep me into your arms and make love to me the way you used to
. The memory of their last night together had warmed her throughout the intervening years, but it was time to create new memories. She sat down on the edge of the bed and patted the spot next to her. “Come here.”

He stubbed out his cigarette and slowly crossed the room. He eased his body onto the bed as if he were settling onto a mattress of nails.

She met his eyes. “I’ve missed you, Tommy.”

He said nothing, but she could see his Adam’s apple working convulsively. She touched his cheek, his jaw, the bristly GI haircut that felt so strange. Tears welled in her eyes.

“Please say something, Tommy. You’re scaring me.” She paused, swallowing hard. “Is there someone else?”

He shook his head. “Never. There’s only you, Doro. Always.”

“Then what?” She took his hand and placed it against her heart. “It’s been so long, darling. So very long...”

And then her heart broke as the man she loved let her see inside his soul. “Hold me, Doro,” he said, his voice cracking. “Just hold me close.”

She did as he asked. She held her husband close through the long summer night, and when the sun came up the next morning, she knew that things would be different between them for a long time to come.

But it didn’t matter. He was her husband and he was home to stay.

* * *

Tom Wilson did go back to work on Monday; but not quite the way anyone expected.

After two hours of nonstop “Great to see you... so happy you’re home, Mr. Wilson...” he stepped into his office and called both Johnny and Catherine in.

Johnny came directly from working on a problem with one of the machines down in assembly. His hands were stained with grease and he waved off Tom’s handshake with a quick laugh and the remark, “I wouldn’t do it to you, Tom.”

Catherine smiled. Her dad was seated behind the desk that she’d called her own these past twenty-four months. How odd it felt to see someone in the seat she’d come to consider her own.

How odd it felt to see that empty look in her father’s eyes. She watched as he glanced around the small office as if he had never seen it before—nor cared to see again.

Since he’d been home, the only time her dad had come to life was when she and Johnny broke the news of their engagement. His blue eyes had sparkled and he’d hugged her tight, then clapped Johnny on the back and welcomed him into the family.

“Be patient,” Johnny had said to her this morning. “Remember what it was like for me? Coming home is like being dropped on the moon. It takes some getting used to.”

She looked over at her dad and smiled at him. He was still her father, still Tom Wilson, president of the company. It would just take time for things to return to normal, that’s all.

Ten minutes later, all of her hopes were shattered.

“No!” The word burst from her lips. “You can’t mean that, Daddy. Wilson wouldn’t be the same without you.”

His smile was weary, “These figures don’t lie, princess. Wilson did just fine without me and it’ll continue to do fine.”

“But I don’t understand. Why on earth would you want to retire? What will you do?” He was only forty-four, not some doddering old goat ready to be put out to pasture.

“Nothing,” said Tom. “I just want to do nothing.”

Panic snaked its way through her chest. He’d gone crazy, that was what. Absolutely, totally crazy. She’d heard stories about battle fatigue, but it never occurred to her that her own father would fall victim.

Johnny leaned forward, his handsome face creased with concern. “You planning on selling the firm, Tom? Not much call for transactions like that these days. You might want to—”

Her father leaned back in his chair and laced his fingers together. “Don’t worry. I’m not looking to sell. I’m just looking for a rest.”

Catherine’s heartbeat returned to something one step closer to normal. But the whole situation still didn’t set right with her. “A vacation,” she said, glancing over at Johnny. “Now that the travel restrictions are gone, you and Mom should take a nice long trip. I’ll hold the fort while you’re gone.”

Johnny met her eyes and nodded. “No problem, Tom. Do a little sight-seeing, then come back and take the reins after you’re rested.”

“You’re not listening to me, either one of you. I’m talking about a permanent change.”

Catherine held her breath, palms wet and clammy.

“You’ve done a wonderful job here, princess. I don’t think I could have done better.”

She thanked him. “Johnny made all the difference,” she said honestly. `If he hadn’t come aboard to help handle the employees, we wouldn’t be in the good shape we’re in today.”

“I know,” said her father. “That’s why I’m handing the reins over to him.”

She leapt to her feet, not even noticing the cup of coffee that went sloshing to the floor. “No! You can’t do that!”

Her dad’s astonishment mirrored Johnny’s. “Why not?” asked Tom. “The war’s over. You’re not going to want to come to work every day to do a man’s job. Johnny’s the logical choice.”

Johnny started to say something, but Catherine couldn’t control her tongue. “How can you do that to me, Daddy?”

“He saved my life,” Tom said calmly. “Now I owe him.”

“What about me?” cried Catherine. “I’m your daughter. I saved your company. Don’t you owe me anything?”

How could her own father take away the one good thing to come of her years of loneliness and fear? How could he not see all she had done for him?

“Look, Tom,” said Johnny. “I don’t want to get in the middle of a family argument.” He stood and headed for the door, but her father stopped him.

“You’re family now, too, Johnny. You have every right to be here. If you’re going to take my job, you need to hear Cathy’s objections.”

She turned to the man she loved, her heart and soul on her sleeve. “Tell him, Johnny. Tell him he’s wrong. Tell him I should have the job.”

“Don’t go making any mistake about it,” said Johnny, looking from Catherine to her father and back again. “I want the job, but not this way.”

Her heart swelled with emotion.
Oh, Johnny! I love you so much
.

But Johnny wasn’t finished talking. “If I take the job, there has to be something here for Cathy, too.”

“Yes,” she snapped. “
Your
job.”

He took her hand and drew her attention to the engagement ring. “You have a job, Cathy. You’re going to be my wife.”

“But that doesn’t mean I can’t run Wilson. Married women work, Johnny. Have you looked at the women on the assembly line? They manage to do both.”

“They’ve done both because they had to,” he pointed out as her father nodded in agreement. “Don’t you think they’d be happier at home?”

“Ask them!” She pulled her hand away from his. “It’s not like I’m taking a job away from a veteran.” She turned to her father. “I’m your flesh and blood, Daddy. How can you do this to me?”

“You’re overwrought,” said her father. “When you calm down, you’ll thank me.”

“Thank you? For what? For slapping me in the face after I’ve put everything I have into working to make you proud of me?”

“What about a family?” Johnny asked, his voice growing louder. “You’ll take this job and two months after we get married, you’ll have to quit.”

“Why?” she tossed back at him. “Does pregnancy destroy brain cells?”

Her father inhaled sharply. “Watch your tongue, Catherine Anne.”

“Pregnant,” she said. “Pregnant, pregnant, pregnant. Sandra Mihalik worked until her sixth month. Miriam, the personnel manager, worked right up until she had David, then came back six weeks later. It can be done, Johnny.”

And then the ax fell. “Not by my wife.”

She stared at him. “What was that?”

Johnny kicked back his chair and got to his feet. His expression was a picture of pure male rage. “I said, not by my wife.”

“Meaning what?”

“You understand English. Figure it out.”

That was her father’s cue to slip out of the office. Neither combatant noticed.

“I’m just a woman,” she said sweetly. “Maybe you should explain it to me.”

“My wife doesn’t work.”

“Your girlfriend did and that didn’t bother you.”

“You were doing what you had to do, Cathy. You did it for your father.”

“Yes,” she conceded, “that’s how it started, but hasn’t it occurred to you that it’s come to mean something more to me?”

“No.”

Her anger and hurt were so intense she could scarcely breathe. “How can you say that, Johnny? You’ve worked next to me for almost six months now. Don’t you know anything about me at all?”

“It isn’t right for a married woman to work. It’s up to the husband to take care of the family.”

“Did your first wife work?”

The look on his face was murderous as he shook his head. “Like I said, my wife stays home.”

Her laugh was triumphant. “And then you were divorced. So much for that theory.”

“Don’t push me, Cathy.”

“What’ll you do?” she asked, her temper out of control. “Steal my job out from under me?” She brushed away angry, powerless tears. “Oh, excuse me. How could I forget? You’ve already done that.”

‘“What the hell do you want from me?” he exploded. “I didn’t ask for the job, Cathy. Your dad offered it to me. He’s damn sure not going to give it to you. Would you rather it go to a stranger?”

“I’d rather you’d given me the choice before you said yes.”

“I’m a man. If I’m going to support us, I need the best job I can find.”

“So do I.”

His voice was low, deadly. “You’re not going to support the family. Not while I’m alive.”

“Don’t you hear a word I’m saying, Johnny? I don’t want to be the only breadwinner in the family, but I do want to contribute.”

“Are you telling me that taking care of a family isn’t contributing?”

“Are you telling me that I’m good enough to run a company when there’s a war on, but once peace is declared, I’m just a helpless woman?”

“Yes.”

“You can’t mean that.” All of her illusions about the man she loved were crumbling right in front of her eyes. How could she have been so blind?

“Stop fighting things you can’t change, Cathy.” His look was sharp, angry. “I didn’t see you kicking up a storm to risk your life on the front line with us men.”

“That’s different.”

“Damn right it is.”

“I’ve worked hard to see Wilson get where it is. Don’t I deserve to see the rest of my plans through? There’s so much to accomplish with the war ending.”
Johnny, let me get through to you, please, before it’s too late!

For a brief moment she thought that she had, that her words had reached the stubborn part of him that refused to see her point, but then his expression hardened. “I want what your parents have,” he said at last. “I want a wife who lives for her husband.”

“Then there’s nothing more to talk about.” She yanked the engagement ring off her finger and threw it at him. It bounced off his chest and fell with a clink to the floor. “Enjoy your new job, Johnny.” She turned and ran from the office.

What hurt more than anything was the fact that he didn’t follow her.