Morning Glory (37 page)

When it stopped, it stopped abruptly, he above, she below, their breaths gusty, labored.

“Do you need anything... to make it easier?” The baby’s Vaseline was on the bureau. He’d studied it dozens of times while imagining this moment.

“I need you, Will... nothing else.”

Her kiss silenced him as she hooked his neck with an arm and brought him down.

“I want to make it good for you, Green Eyes.”

He knew how. He’d been taught by the best in a place called La Grange, Texas. He touched her—deep, shallow—with hands and tongue until she bent like a willow in the wind.

As he eased into her body she closed her eyes and saw him as he’d looked that first night, standing on the edge of the clearing, lean and hungry, wary and secretive, hiding beneath his hat—hiding his feelings, his loneliness, his needs.

She closed her eyes and opened her body, offering solace and love to equal his own. It hurt after all, but she hid it well, grasping his head and pulling it down for a deep kiss within which she disguised a soft moan. But soon the moan was dictated by pleasure instead of pain. He took her to the tallest tip of a tree, where she poised—a graceful bird at last, trembled upon the brink of flight, then soared for the first time. Becoming one with the sky, she called his name, twisting, lifting, reborn.

And when her cataclysm had passed, she opened her eyes and watched him follow the way she’d come, watched his gold-beaten hair tapping his forehead, the muscles in his arms standing out like formations in stone, beads of sweat dotting his brow.

He quivered, groaned and pressed deep, arching. He uttered her name, but the sound was trapped by his clenched jaw. When he shuddered in release, she found it glorious to witness, a blessing to receive. She held his shoulders and felt his deep tremors and thought it more beautiful than the flight of an eagle.

When it was over he fell to his side, draping a limp arm on her ribs, waiting for his breathing to slow. Eyes closed, he laughed once, satisfied, replete, then rolled her close, held her in a powerless caress with their damp skins touching.

He rolled his head tiredly and let his eyes caress her. “You all right, Elly?”

She smiled and touched his chin. “Shh... I’m holdin’ it in.”

“What?”

“Everything. All the feelin’s you give me.”

“Aw, Elly...”

He kissed her forehead and she spoke against his chin. “I had three babies, Will—three of ‘em—but I never had this. I didn’t know nothin’ about this.” She clutched him close.
“Now I find out about it on our last night. Oh, Will, why did we waste two weeks?”

He had no answer, could only hold her and stroke her hair.

“Will, I felt like I always wished I could feel—like I was flying at last. How come that never happened with Glendon?” She braced up on an elbow to look him in the face.

She was such an unspoiled thing, innocent like no woman he’d ever known. “Maybe ‘cause you were married to a good man who never visited a whorehouse.”

“You’re a good man, Will, don’t you say different. And if that’s what you learned there, I’m glad you went.” She drew up the covers while he smiled at her unexpectedness: shy one minute, earthy the next. He gathered his wife close and found reason to be glad. It had been a circuitous route that had led him to her. Without La Grange, without Josh, without prison, he’d never have ended up in Georgia. He’d never have married Elly. But he didn’t want to dwell on it tonight.

“Elly-honey, you mind if we don’t talk about that for a while? I wanna talk about... about the flowers you’re gonna plant for next summer, and how you’re gonna pick the quince and how the boys’re gonna help you shell pecans and—”

“You’re gonna be back before that, Will. I just know you will.”

“Maybe.”

Through the hourglass the sand spilled faster. She rested her cheek and hand on his chest, against his strong, sure heartbeat, praying it would never be stopped by a bullet.

“I’ll write to you.” More sand... more heartbeats... and two throats tightening.

“And I’ll write to you.”

“I’ll remember this night forever, and how wonderful it was.”

“I’ll remember...” He tipped her head back to look into her glistening eyes. “I’ll remember a lot of things.” Beneath the covers he found her breast and tenderly took it in hand. “I’ll remember that day you threw the egg at me. That was the day I realized I was falling in love with you. I’ll remember you slicing bacon in the morning, and leaning on the door of the Whippet while the boys pretended they were driving
up to Atlanta. And that first morning, you tying your hair up in a tail with a yellow ribbon. And whippin’ up a cake, holding the bowl against your belly. And the way you looked sitting in the boys’ bed when I come home from work, telling ‘em a bedtime story. And you-all waiting beneath the sourwood tree when I come driving back from town. Ah, that one’s gonna be the best. Did I ever tell you how much I liked sittin’ under that sourwood tree with you?” He kissed her forehead and made her eyes sting.

“Oh, Will...” She clasped him and blinked hard. “You got to come back so we can do it again. All those things. This summer... promise?”

He rolled against her and looked into her eyes. “If I make a promise, you got to make one, too.”

“Wh-what?” She sniffled.

“That you’ll go to town, take the boys out. You got to go, Elly, don’t you see? Donald Wade, he’ll be seven next year and he’ll be starting school. But if you—”

“I can teach him what he—”

“You listen to me, now. They got to get out. Take ‘em to the library and get books for ‘em so when they’re old enough for school they’ll know what to expect. You want ‘em to grow up less ignorant than me and you, don’t you? Look how little we went to school and how hard we have to fight for everything. Give ‘em a chance to be smarter and better than us. Take ‘em in and get ‘em used to town, and people—and—and surviving. ‘Cause that’s what life’s all about, Elly, surviving. And you—you go in and keep selling the eggs and milk to Purdy. You buy Dreft instead of making that homemade soap. It’s too hard on you, Elly, to do all that. The Marines’ll be sending my checks to you, so you’ll have the money. But you put half in War Bonds and spend the other half, you hear? Buy good shoes for the boys and whatever Lizzy needs. And you hire somebody to do whatever needs doin’ around the place. And if I’m not back by the time the honey runs, you hire somebody to open the hives and sell the honey. It’ll bring good money with sugar being scarce.”

“But, Will—”

“You listen now, Elly, ‘cause I haven’t got a whole lot of
time to convince you. Miss Beasley, she’ll be your friend. You’re gonna need a friend, and she’s fair and honest and smart. If you need help you go to her and she’ll help you or find somebody else who will. Promise, Elly?”

He held her lightly by the throat. Beneath his palm he felt her swallow.

“I promise,” she whispered.

He forced a grin, made it teasing, the way he knew she needed right now. “You got your fingers crossed under them covers, missus?”

“N–no,” she choked, releasing a laugh that was half sob.

“All right. Now listen.” He wiped her cheek dry and said what needed saying. “I got to tell you this before I go. It might not’ve been fair of me to ask Miss Beasley, but I did, and she told me about how your mama she never was married, and how your family locked you up in that house when you were a little girl, and all the rest of it. Elly, how come you never told me?”

Her gaze dropped to his chest.

He lifted her chin with a finger. “You’re as good as any of them down there—better. And don’t you forget it, Mrs. Parker. You’re bright, and you got a pair of real bright boys, too, you hear me? You got to go down into that town and show ‘em.”

He could see she was on the verge of big tears. “Aw, Elly, honey...” He wrapped her close and rocked her. “This war is gonna change things. Women’re gonna have to do for themselves a lot more. And for you, facing town might be part of it. Just remember what I said. You’re good as any of them down there. Now I got to ask you something, all right?” Once more he pressed her away and studied her eyes. “Do you own that house?”

“The one in town?”

“Yes. Where you used to live.”

“Yes. But I ain’t goin’ in it.”

“You don’t have to. Just remember, though, if an emergency comes up and you need big money for anything, you can sell that place. Miss Beasley’ll be able to help you. Will
you do that if something goes wrong and I don’t come home?”

“You’re comin’ home, Will, you
are
!”

“I’m gonna try, darlin’. A man with this much waitin’ for him’s got plenty to fight for, don’t you think?”

They held each other and willed that it should be so. That when Lizzy took her first step he’d be there with his arms outstretched, waiting to catch her. When summertime came and the honey was running he’d be there to see after the bees. And when autumn came and the sourwood tree changed to scarlet he’d be there to join them beneath it.

“I love you, Elly. More’n you’ll ever know. Nobody ever was as good to me as you. You got to remember one thing always. How happy you made me. When I ain’t here and you get low, you think about what I said, how happy you made me, feedin’ me quince pies and giving me three little babies to love, and making me feel like I’m somebody special. And remember how much I loved you, only you, the only one in my whole entire life, Eleanor Parker.”

“Will... Will... oh, God...”

They tried to kiss but couldn’t; their tears got in the way, filling their throats and thickening their tongues. They clung, legs braided, arms pulling as if to protect each other from tomorrow’s separation.

But it would come. And it would take him and leave her and nothing they could do or say would prevent the sand from running out.

They said goodbye under the sourwood tree. Donald Wade coasted down with one knee in the wagon; Thomas rode the scooter. Will and Elly followed, he with his few possessions in a brown paper bag and she carrying Lizzy P.

When they stopped beneath the outspread branches, his wrist rested on her shoulder. Instead of looking at her, he squinted at the sky.

“Well... got a good day for it. Can almost feel spring comin’.”

“Not a cloud in that sky.”

Why were they talking weather when there were a dozen more urgent feelings tumbling through their hearts?

“Donald Wade said just yesterday he seen a nest with some speckled eggs in it.”

Will put his palm on Donald Wade’s hair. “That right,
kemo sabe
?”

“Three of ‘em, down by the Steel Mule.”

“You didn’t touch ‘em, did you?”

Donald Wade wagged his head hard. “Uh-uhhh! Mama said.”

Will went down on one knee and set his sack in the wagon. “Come here. You too, Thomas.” Thomas dropped the scooter and both boys stood close while Will looped his arms around
their waists. “You always do what your mama says, all right? I’m countin’ on you to be good boys.”

They both nodded solemnly, aware that Will’s leaving was of import but too young to understand why.

“How long’ll you be gone, Will?”

“Oh, a while, I reckon.”

“But how
long
?” Donald Wade insisted.

Will carefully kept his eyes from Elly.

“Till them Japs’re killed, I reckon.”

“You gonna get a real gun, Will?”

He drew Donald Wade against his thigh. “Tell you what—I’ll tell you all about it when I get back. Now you be a good boy and help your mother with Lizzy P. and Thomas, okay?”

“’Kay.” His voice lacked its usual vibrancy as Will’s leavetaking became real. They kissed. Hard and hearty while the back of Will’s nose stung.

“’Bye,
kemo sabe.”

“’Bye, Will.”

“’Bye, sprout.”

“’Bye, Wiw.” Another soft mouth, another hard hug and Will clasped them both, closing his eyes.

“I love you two little twerps—an awful lot.”

“I love you, Will.”

“I wuv you, Wiw.”

He got quickly to his feet, afraid of what would happen if he didn’t.

“I want to hold Lizzy P. one time, all right?” He reached for the baby, held her upright with her feet at his chest. She peeked out from beneath a home-knit cap and a warm flannel quilt. When he put his nose to her cheek she smelled of a fresh bath and powdering. “I’m comin’ back, Lizzy P., you sweet, sweet thing. Got to see them teeth you’ll be sproutin’ and see you ride the schoolbus to town.” He made it brief—a nuzzle and a kiss—because it was too painful. “Here, Donald Wade, you hold your sister in the wagon, son.”

When Lizzy P. was settled in her brother’s lap, Will turned to Elly and took her by both hands. She was crying quietly. No sobbing, only the tears rolling down her pale cheeks.

“You keep them quince ready, missus, ‘cause you never
can tell when I’m gonna come traipsin’ into this yard hungry as a spring bear.”

Though the tears continued streaming, she lifted her chin high and affected a discommoded attitude. “Always were a peck o’trouble, Will Parker, you ‘n’ that sweet tooth of yours.”

The tears he’d contained so well could be hidden no longer. They glimmered on his eyelids as he and Elly lunged together in a fierce, possessive hug. He dropped his head and she lifted on tiptoe, each seizing the other while their false gaiety dissolved.

“Oh, Elly... Jesus.”

“You come back to me, Will Parker, you hear?”

“I will, I will, I promise I will. You’re the first thing I ever had to come back
to.
How could I not come back to you?”

They kissed, feeling cheated out of so much they hadn’t had time for.

“Send me your picture soon as it’s taken, in them fancy soldiers’ clothes.”

“I will. And remember what I said...” He held her face in both hands, looking into her precious green eyes. “You’re as good as anybody in town. Take the boys in, and go to Miss Beasley if you need anything.”

She nodded, biting her lips, then pulled him close, grasping the back of his denim jacket in her fists.

“I love you s–so m–much,” she choked.

“I love you, too.”

They kissed again, tongues reaching, arms clasping, tears falling while somewhere a train rolled toward Whitney to bear Will away. He forced his wife from his arms and ordered shakily, “Now get Lizzy P. and the boys and y’all sit under the sourwood tree. I wanna see you there when I go ‘round the bend. ‘Bye, boys. Be good.”