The Homecoming (31 page)

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Authors: Dan Walsh

Tags: #FIC042040, #FIC027050

BOOK: The Homecoming
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He looked at his watch. Only twenty minutes till noon. He began to trot east on Market, snaking his way through the crowd, trying not to knock anyone over. Crossing the 22nd Street intersection, he had to run around a dozen young women holding hands, dancing like little girls in a circle in the middle of the street. At 17th Street, he was almost run over by a car with at least ten college kids piled on top and standing on the running boards.

He made it to Penn Square with five minutes to spare. Wanamaker’s was right around the corner. But the entire square was filled with people celebrating. He literally had to push his way through, foot by foot. Finally, he made it through the glass doors on the Juniper Street entrance, the one closest to the Wanamaker’s Eagle.

Once inside, he noticed the store was nearly empty. Everyone was outside.

But there was the Eagle. No one standing around it.

No one.

He walked around it, but he knew she wasn’t there. He glanced at a clock. Two minutes after. Okay, she could still be coming. She would run into the same crowd he had. Nearby, he saw a saleswoman at the jewelry counter.

“Have you seen a young woman standing around the Eagle by any chance? Brown hair, very attractive.”

“Sorry, sir. People have been walking by, but no one looked like they were waiting for anyone. I can’t believe I’m stuck back here. No one’s in the mood to shop.”

Shawn walked back toward the big bronze Eagle. He paced around it, looking toward both sets of doors every few moments. Fifteen minutes went by. Then thirty. He decided to call Patrick.

“Is there a phone booth nearby?” he asked the jewelry counter lady.

“Just head out those doors and look to the left.”

“If you see a brunette come by while I’m gone, please tell her not to leave.”

“You got it.”

Shawn walked outside and quickly found the phone booth. Closing the doors only minimally reduced the noise. Mrs. Fortini answered.

“Hi, it’s Shawn. Is Patrick there?”

“He is, Shawn. He’s listening to the radio. It’s so exciting.”

“Has Katherine left?”

“Yes. She left before Patrick woke up, so he doesn’t know anything yet.”

“Did my telegram arrive?”

“It did.”

“Did she read it?”

“She did.”

“When she left, did she leave her bags there?”

“No, she still brought them with her.”

Shawn’s heart fell.

“Can I speak with Patrick?”

“Sure, I’ll get him.”

Shawn wondered . . . did it even matter now, what he was about to ask Patrick?

“Hi, Daddy.”

“Hey, buddy, isn’t it great about the war?”

“Does this mean they’ll let you come home for good?”

“I think it does. But listen, I have something very important to ask you.”

“What is it?”

“It’s about Katherine. What would you think if I asked her to marry me? Would that make you happy or sad?”

“Really? You’re going to ask her that? I would love it if she never ever left. I’ve been worrying about that sometimes.”

Shawn sighed. Even Patrick picked up on the struggle in Katherine’s heart, but not him. “Well, I’m glad. I don’t know what she’ll say, but I’m hoping to meet her soon. And when I do, I’ll ask her. And you’ll be the first person I call if she says yes.”

“Okay, I’ll say a prayer.”

Yes, thought Shawn, pray.

Forty-six

Shawn walked back into Wanamaker’s. His eyes went straight to the Eagle. Still no Katherine. He looked at his watch. It was just after one o’clock.

Was he too late? She had taken her bags with her, Mrs. Fortini said, even after reading his telegram. Was she even coming? He walked back and resumed his silent pace around the bronze statue. Another ten minutes went by, then fifteen.

“Shawn?”

He looked toward the sound, the beautiful sound of her voice. “You came.”

She walked slowly toward him. Her face looked tense, almost afraid. “Can you help me? My taxi is outside, but I can’t get my bags by myself. I’m so sorry I’m late.”

“Your bags?”

“I brought them, just in case. But I didn’t plan on this crowd. It took forever to find a taxi, then the traffic barely moved from the station to here. I would have walked, but my bags are too heavy.”

He met her halfway. “Stay right here. I’ll get your bags.”

He walked through the glass doors, paid the taxi, and grabbed her bags in both arms. He came back into the store. As he passed her, he said politely: “Follow me, we need to talk.” He set the bags leaning up against the Eagle. When he turned, she was standing right there. He looked into her eyes. Why hadn’t he seen how beautiful she was?

“I’m sorry for writing that letter. I’m such a chicken. You didn’t deserve that. I’m just—”

“Katherine,” Shawn said in a serious tone. “I love you.”

“What?” Tears began to form in her eyes.

“I love you,” he said. “I have been such a fool. I have loved you for a long time.”

“You have?” A tear escaped down her cheek.

He put his hands gently on her shoulders. “Please don’t leave me, leave us, Patrick and me.”

“You love me?”

“I want to marry you.”

She started to cry. He reached his arms around her and pulled her close. He let her rest there a few moments till she seemed to calm down.

She pulled back and looked up into his eyes. “I don’t want to leave. I’ve never wanted to leave,” she said. “But you didn’t seem to care for me . . . that way. And I didn’t think I could ever measure up to your love for Elizabeth. She was such an amazing woman. Who am I?”

“You’re the woman I love,” said Shawn. “I don’t understand all the reasons why God took Elizabeth. I may never understand this side of heaven. But I do know, God brought you into my life. You don’t have to measure up to Elizabeth or anyone else. I love you just the way you are.”

She started crying again, so he held her some more. As she rested her head on his shoulders, he said, “My dad taught me that.”

“Your dad?”

“Before he died, it was one of the last things he said to me. He said you didn’t have to replace Elizabeth, I could just start a new place in my heart for you. Then I realized, you were already there. I was just too afraid to see it.”

“And you see it now?”

“Katherine, I don’t want to live my life without you. I want to marry you. Patrick wants me to marry you. I called him just a little while ago. He said he would love it if you never left.”

“He said that?”

Before she lost it completely, Shawn leaned over and kissed her, and she responded, removing any lingering doubts he had about her feelings for him. Then, right there at the Wanamaker’s Eagle, Shawn got down on one knee to make it official. “Katherine Townsend, will you marry me?”

“Shawn, I think I’ve loved you since that first Christmas dinner. And I have loved you every day since. Of course, I will marry you.”

He stood up and they kissed again. “I wasn’t sure how you’d react,” he said. “I don’t even have a ring. But we’ll come back here tomorrow to that jewelry counter right over there. Then we’ll have lunch at the Crystal Tea Room upstairs.”

“I’d like that,” she said.

He picked up her bags. “Let’s get these back home where they belong.” He led her by the hand toward the Juniper Street doors. Just outside, he looked to the left, saw the telephone booth, and remembered something.

“Hey, Katherine, let’s call Patrick.”

When Katherine awoke the next morning, not in some strange place but in her bed at Mrs. Fortini’s house, she could hardly believe how dramatically her life had changed since waking up in this same bed the day before.

All day yesterday, she’d kept waiting for Shawn to slip and call her Miss Townsend again. She kept looking at him, expecting him to regret the things he’d said by the Eagle at Wanamaker’s. But every time he’d return her glance with love in his eyes and a big smile.

As they’d walked up the driveway to Mrs. Fortini’s house, he’d even left her bags by the sidewalk so he could hold her hand to the front door. Before they’d even reached her porch, Mrs. Fortini and Patrick came running out the door and almost knocked them over with hugs and congratulations.

Then just before they’d parted last night, Shawn had walked her back out to that same porch, kissed her gently good night, and said, “Don’t forget, tomorrow we have a date back at Wanamaker’s. While I waited for you today, I saw the most beautiful diamond ring. I want to put that ring on your finger tomorrow and see it sparkling under the chandelier at the Crystal Tea Room.”

She got out of bed, walked over to the dresser, and picked up her Bible. Something fell out and landed softly on the floor. She looked down and smiled. It was the little buttercup she’d kept from a visit to Patrick’s playground almost a year ago, the one that had grown up through a crack in the sidewalk.

And she remembered what Mrs. Fortini had said: “God can make love grow through even the hardest places. Just give him time.”

Epilogue

September 8, 1945
(4 months later)

As Shawn, Katherine, and Patrick walked up the stone steps of the cemetery leading toward Elizabeth’s grave, Katherine reflected back on the whirlwind of changes that had taken place in their lives over the past few months.

They were married by Pastor Harman at Christ Redeemer Church six weeks after Shawn had proposed. Like Shawn, Mrs. Fortini’s son Dominic had earned enough points to be discharged shortly after V-E Day. He and Shawn had been boyhood friends. Dominic was Shawn’s best man. Shirley O’Donnell, Katherine’s old friend from Child Services, served as her maid of honor.

Patrick sat on the front row beside Mrs. Fortini, happy as he could be. On Mrs. Fortini’s other side was her son Dominic’s big surprise. His war bride from England—Jane. Jane was not Italian. Her skin was white as snow. She called tomatoes
to-MAH-toes
. And Mrs. Fortini loved her from the first moment they’d met. But she’d admitted, saying “Jane Fortini” would take some getting used to.

Shawn had some surprises of his own to unveil.

When his father’s estate had been settled, Shawn learned he was just a few thousand dollars short of being a millionaire. And the income was still coming in. Carlyle Manufacturing— the business his father owned a small percentage of—had just signed a deal with Chrysler to stop making tank parts and start making engine parts for the millions of cars they planned to manufacture after the war.

Shawn had decided to spend a little of that money. First, he took Katherine on a honeymoon back to England. They spent ten days touring the English countryside, and she finally got to see all the enchanted places she’d read about in her books.

When they got home, Shawn took Katherine and Patrick out for a leisurely drive about fifteen miles outside of Allingdale. They drove past some lovely estate homes in an area called Radnor. Then Shawn turned into the driveway of one of these beautiful homes, got out, and said, “Welcome home, Collins family.” Katherine was overwhelmed. It felt like something out of the pages of
Pride and Prejudice
, like she was staring at Mr. Darcy’s mansion.

That evening, when they got back to Shawn’s childhood home on Chestnut Street, they ate dinner next door at Mrs. Fortini’s. Dominic and Jane joined them. After dessert, Shawn handed Mrs. Fortini one envelope and Dominic another. Inside were two mortgages marked “Paid in Full.”

He had paid off Mrs. Fortini’s home and gave his father’s house to Dominic free and clear. “God has been good to me,” he’d said. After the tears and hugs, he told them they could have these homes on one condition. Mrs. Fortini must serve as Patrick’s grandmother and Dominic and Jane as his aunt and uncle. “You’re the only family we’ve got,” he’d said.

Mrs. Fortini had said she’d do it for nothing.

When they reached the last step of the cemetery walkway, Shawn said, “It’s just another fifty yards or so over there.”

Katherine looked out at a gently rolling field of tombstones and monuments that seemed to stretch for miles. She knew this was going to be a difficult moment, but she prayed God would help her be strong for Shawn. She’d insisted that Shawn not feel the need to hide or diminish Elizabeth’s memory in their conversations or in their new home. She’d made a collage of the few family pictures they’d had of her and framed it in a special corner of their huge living room.

“I haven’t seen it yet,” Shawn said, “but the caretaker said it came out perfectly.”

In a few moments, they stood there in front of the new gravestone Shawn had made for Elizabeth. It stood chest high, made of solid marble. Below her name, date of birth and death, Katherine read the words:

Beloved Wife and Mother

Having with firm Christian zeal and true feminine affection filled to the full measure her many duties of life, she was called home to be with the Lord, leaving in the hearts of her loving family and friends a shining record of surpassing worth; which neither time can efface nor changes of life obscure. “Now we see through a glass darkly, but then we shall see face to face.” (1 Cor. 13:12)

Katherine took Shawn’s hand. “It’s beautiful. Did you write it?”

“No. Elizabeth found these words on a gravestone in an old cemetery from the 1800s. We used to love to walk through old cemeteries together. It so affected her, she wrote it down. I found it when I was going through her things. As soon as I saw it, I thought . . .”

Katherine squeezed his hand. “It
is
perfect.” The words were so eloquent and, from all she’d known of Elizabeth, all true. She looked down at Patrick. He was wiping a tear from his face. She bent down and gave him a big hug.

He looked up and said, “I’m so glad you’re here.”

After a few minutes standing there together in silence, Shawn led them back toward the steps, Patrick in the middle, holding on to both of their hands. “What’s for dinner?” he said.

Katherine smiled.

Dan Walsh
is the author of
The Unfinished Gift
and a member of American Christian Fiction Writers (ACFW). He is also a pastor and lives with his family in the Daytona Beach area, where he’s busy researching and writing his next novel.

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