The Widow's Choice (8 page)

“Well, I am! Isn’t that right, Mom?”

“Almost always, Carl.” She smiled. “He is a good boy. But not perfect, as he sometimes thinks.”

“You’ve got three fine boys.” Moran turned around for a quick glance at the boys. “When I was a younger man, I thought I’d have five or six just like these.”

“Don’t you have any boys, Mr. Moran?”

“No, but I’ve got two stepdaughters.”

“What’s a stepdaughter?” Carl asked.

He explained what a stepchild was. “When I met my wife, she was a widow with two teenage girls. My wife died a few years ago, and I never did have any children of my own.”

“Maybe you’ll have one someday,” Zac said.

“That’s not likely, son.”

Alona had been directing Moran as he drove, and finally she said, “It’s that house.”

“Oh, that’s Mrs. Cunningham’s place. A nice house.”

“She’s letting us have it rent free. So kind of her.”

“She’s a generous woman. Look, the rain’s almost stopped.” He stopped the car and then turned and named the boys off. “Let’s see. Tim, Zac, and Carl. Is that right? You boys take care of your mother.” He fished into his vest and pulled out a card. “Here, Mrs. Jennings.”

“What’s this?” she asked, taking the card. It said Moran Foundry, Oscar Moran, owner and president, along with a telephone number. “Any time you need any transportation just call me.”

“That’s very generous of you, but I hope I won’t have to do that.”

“It won’t be any trouble at all. I’m glad to have met you,
Mrs. Jennings, and we’re delighted that you’ve come to be a member of our church.”

The boys got out, and Zac got the last word. “Don’t forget. Someday I’m going to get to drive your car.”

Moran laughed. “That’s right, son. You will.”

As Zac watched the car drive off, he said, “Gee, we can get a free ride anytime we want to, Mom.”

“No we can’t.”

“Why not?”

“We can’t impose on Mr. Moran.”

“But he said he doesn’t mind. He doesn’t have any kids or any wife to sit in that big old car. We might as well ride in it,” the boy announced.

Alona told him that they wouldn’t be needing any more rides, but Zac was still arguing when they entered the house.

CHAPTER SIX

A Heart for Boys

The Saturday afternoon practice for the Christmas pageant was going as well as could be expected, which meant that half of the children knew their lines and the other half didn’t. Alona sat halfway back in the sanctuary and watched as the pastor’s wife attempted to bring order out of chaos. She had watched the practices so many times that she knew all of the lines by heart, and now, except for those times when one of her three were speaking a line, she allowed her mind to drift.

The year had been difficult for the world. Alona thought often of the day that Truman had explained the meaning of a raincrow summer, how it would be followed by dangerous and hard times. She thought of how in August 1939, Germany and Russia had shocked diplomats everywhere by signing a nonaggression pact, which meant, as far as Alona understood it, that the German army, which was now the largest in the world, would be able to concentrate on the western front of Europe without worrying about fighting Russia on another front. They had already begun in September 1939 by invading Poland. This invasion broke twenty-one years of rather shaky peace in Europe, and the Germans had, with their blitzkrieg or lightning war, defeated Poland easily. Britain and France had declared war on Germany at once, but America stayed neutral.

With the world teetering on the brink of a war, the likes of which had never been seen, Alona read the papers each day and listened to the broadcasts with a sinking heart. She
wondered how her boys might be affected if the war ever moved beyond Europe. She hoped it would never come to that.

Alona’s life had gotten somewhat easier since moving to Jonesboro. She was surprised to find that she was becoming quite good at assembling radio parts, and the steady income, with no rent payments, was easing the financial strain. She loved the house that she lived in and had paid a visit to Mrs. Cunningham to thank her personally and deliver some homemade bread. Mrs. Cunningham was in her late eighties but was in possession of all her faculties, and it had been a joy for Alona to visit with her and thank her for letting them have the house rent free. Mrs. Cunningham had told Alona that she had been widowed herself thirty years ago and understood the loneliness that came after being married to a good man.

The sound of Tim’s voice broke into her thoughts, and she quickly looked up as he delivered his lines. “We need a room, innkeeper.” She was proud of Tim. He was not outgoing enough to make a good actor, but he did his best. The thought occurred to her that Zac might have made a better Joseph. He would have banged energetically on the innkeeper’s door and boldly asked for a room. But he was too young for such a role and was thoroughly enjoying playing a shepherd boy.

When the rehearsal was over, she and the other few parents who had been watching applauded. She stood up and waited while the boys gathered around her, grinning broadly.

“You are doing so well. All of you.”

“Aw, it’s duck soup, Mom,” Carl boasted. Which it was, since he had only one line to speak.

The four of them started out of the church and were intercepted by Oscar Moran. “Hello. How are you fellows tonight?”

“Great, Mr. Moran,” Zac said, speaking for the others. “How are you?”

“I’m fine, Zac.” Moran turned and said, “How are you, Mrs. Jennings?”

“Very well. I’ve been watching the rehearsal.”

“I caught a little of that before the deacons’ meeting. You fellows did fine. It’s going to be a great pageant.”

“If they don’t forget their lines,” Alona said with a smile.

“Aw, Mom, we never forget our lines. That’s those other dumb kids,” Zac announced.

“Don’t call kids dumb,” Alona reprimanded him.

“That’s right,” Mr. Moran said. “You must always be polite.” He turned to Alona. “It’s cold outside. Let me give you and the boys a ride home.”

Before Alona could speak, Zac popped up. “Mr. Moran, maybe we should stop and get some ice cream cones at Stanley’s Drugstore.”

“Zac, where are your manners?” Alona admonished. “Besides, we have the chocolate cake at home that I made last night.”

“Why, I think ice cream is a fine suggestion,” Oscar said. “Or maybe we should get something even bigger. Like a chocolate sundae or a strawberry milk shake. You know,” he said, sounding serious, “I’ve often wondered how much ice cream a boy could eat. Never have found out. Maybe I could experiment on you.”

“Sure,” Zac said instantly. “I’d be glad to be an experiment!”

“Me too!” Carl said. “Let’s experiment with a vanilla shake and see how many I can eat.”

“Boys, you stop that!” Alona scolded. “You sound like beggars.”

“Not at all,” Moran protested, shaking his head. “Perhaps we might find out how much ice cream the mother of three boys can hold as well.”

“I appreciate your offer, Mr. Moran, and your generosity, but I think I’ll hold out for chocolate cake myself. Would you like to join me for some after we stop at the drugstore?”

“That would be absolutely delightful, Mrs. Jennings.”

“Please just call me Alona.”

“I will, and you must call me Oscar,” he said as they made
their way to the coatrack. “By the way, that’s an unusual name—Alona. Where did your parents get it?”

“My mother read that in Hebrew it’s the word for an oak tree. She wanted me to be a strong woman, so they tagged me with it. I’ve spent most of my life spelling it for people and trying to explain it.”

“I think it’s a lovely name, and I am looking forward to sampling your chocolate cake.”

The trip to the drugstore settled very little about the capacity of boys. All three of them were able to consume both the sundae and the milk shake that the soda jerk had set before each of them. After the shake, Alona insisted that was enough and they all piled in the car again to go back to the house.

Alona found Moran’s attachment to her boys rather touching. She knew he felt affection for boys in general, and he had been more than generous with her boys in particular. More than once he had taken them home, insisting on stopping to get something good to eat each time.

As the group entered the house, Oscar walked in but stopped immediately as Buddy came bounding forward. He took a step back, explaining, “I’m afraid I’m allergic to some kinds of animals. All cats and some dogs. My eyes tear up and I sneeze like crazy if I get too much animal hair on me.”

“Buddy, you’ll have to go outside,” Alona said as she took Oscar’s coat and hat. Buddy gave her a hurt look and his head drooped as Tim let him out.

“Why, he actually looks crushed!” Oscar said with astonishment. “He looks like we’ve hurt his feelings.”

“He’s very sensitive,” Alona explained. “He’ll go outside and pout for a while, but he’ll be all right.”

“When he stays in the house and gets his feelings hurt,” Zac added, “he goes over and faces the wall and won’t come away until somebody sweet talks him out of it.” He grinned. “He always gets over it, though.”

“Come into the kitchen.” Alona smiled. “It’s warmer there,
and cleaner too. I haven’t had time to do much housecleaning.”

“Don’t worry about that. A good chocolate cake makes up for all kinds of housecleaning.”

Alona led the way into the kitchen and indicated where Oscar should sit. The boys sat down as well, following Alona’s every move as she got out the cake and served it onto two plates.

“Mom,” Zac asked, “how come you only got out two plates?”

“You can’t
possibly
want cake after all that ice cream!”

“Sure we do,” Tim insisted. “I’ve got one little corner left that’s not full.”

“Me too!” Carl said. “And give me the biggest piece.”

“You’re a hog! That’s what you are!” Zac snapped. “Give
me
the biggest piece!”

“Stop arguing, boys. You sound like hungry wolves dying for a meal. I’ll give you each a half a piece. I don’t want you groaning about stomachaches later on.” She got out three more plates. “Do you have time for me to make coffee, Oscar?”

“No coffee for me. I’ve cut way back. I’m trying to watch my diet too, or at least I’m supposed to.”

“How about milk, then?”

“That sounds good.”

“Why do you have to watch your diet?” Zac blurted. “To keep from getting fat?”

Oscar laughed. “That too, but I have a little heart problem that the doctors fuss at me about.”

“What’s wrong with it?” Carl asked curiously. “Doesn’t it work right?”

“I had a spell with it about a year ago, but you know doctors. They get all upset. I’m fine really.”

Alona put a piece of cake in front of everybody and poured milk for the boys and for Oscar. Finally she sat down herself.

“What was it like when you were a boy, Mr. Moran?” Zac wanted to know.

“Well, these are hard times we live in, Zac, but I think it was even harder back then. My family was happy when I was a boy, but we had to work hard to make ends meet. Things got even harder for me when I got older, though. My mother died when I was twenty, and my father remarried a younger woman two years later. They had a son—my half brother Jason, but Jason’s mother died in childbirth. Then our father died when Jason was only ten, and I wound up raising him myself.”

“Do you have any other brothers or sisters?” Alona asked.

“I have one sister. She’s married to a colonel in the army. They move around constantly. He’s about ready to retire.”

“What about your half brother? Where is he now?”

Oscar seemed somewhat at a loss at the question. He took a bite of cake before he answered. “Actually, he lives with me right here in Jonesboro. He works for me too.”

“I don’t believe I’ve met him. Doesn’t he ever come to church?”

“No. Jason’s not much of a churchgoer.”

“That’s too bad, when you’re such a good example for him.”

Oscar suddenly grinned. “I’m not a saint by any means, Alona.”

“How old is he?”

“Let’s see. He’s twenty-eight.” The boys wanted to know more about Jason, but Alona noted that Oscar was having a hard time talking about him.

“Some young men have a hard time finding themselves,” Oscar explained, “and Jason’s one of those. He’s tried a lot of jobs. He was even a pilot for the navy for a while.”

“A pilot! Gosh, that’s what I want to be!” Zac said.

“You want to be a fireman. That’s what you told me yesterday!” Carl snapped.

“I’ll be a fireman first and then a pilot later. Would he take us up in his airplane, do you think, Mr. Moran?”

A sober expression crossed his face. “No, Jason doesn’t
have an airplane now. It was like some of his other efforts. He had a bad crash, and it shook him up so badly he hasn’t been able to fly again. He’s afraid of it now. I don’t understand that.” He shrugged his thick shoulders. “When a man makes a mistake or has hard luck, he just has to get up and try again. That’s what I always had to do.”

“I suppose it’s harder for some than for others. You obviously have a lot of determination.”

“Well, thank you. I do have that. Some call it bullheaded stubbornness.” He laughed and shook his head. “I guess that’s about right. I’ve had to be stubborn to keep this business going. It all but went down during the first year of the Depression, but it’s doing well enough now.”

Moran stayed for half an hour and heaped praises upon Alona’s cake. When she walked him to the door, the boys scattered to their bedrooms. “You know, Alona,” Oscar said as he put on his overcoat and hat, “I envy you those fine boys.”

“They’re not perfect, but they are good boys. And I want to thank you for paying attention to them. They miss their dad a lot. It means something to them to have a man show them some attention.”

“No thanks necessary, because it’s a joy to me. If you ever have to take them to the doctor, or have some difficulty with them, give me a call. You have my card.”

“I do have it, Oscar, and I’ll use it if I have to.”

“Don’t hesitate. Thanks again for the cake. It was delicious.”