The Pieces We Keep(138)

Therein a fresh bond was born, and once more Vivian witnessed the seeping of light through a moment of darkness.



An hour later, with Luanne and Fred gone, the dishes washed, and Judith bathed, Vivian prepared for her approach.

From the door of Judith’s room she watched Gene tuck their daughter into her crib. She looked so cozy in the new pajamas Luanne had made.

“Kiss ’Ippo.” Judith held up the floppy giraffe he had given her to mark the special day.

“Good night, Hippo.” Gene gave the animal a peck, snuggled it under the blanket, and said to Judith, “Sweet dreams, my little monkey.”

“Ooh-ooh, ahh-ahh,” she replied on cue. Gene had coined the nickname when, as a newborn, she would squirm, cling, and suck her thumb like a baby chimp.

Then he said, “I love you, Jujube. With all my heart.”

“I wuv you too, Daddy.”

He leaned over the rail and kissed Judith’s forehead. When he stood up, rather than clicking off her lamp, he rubbed her face with his thumb. The soothing motion caused her eyelids to droop, her blinks to lengthen.

While there was beauty in the scene, Vivian also sensed a heaviness. It was the tone of Gene’s voice, the intensity of his eyes. Over the past few weeks, she would frequently jar him from spells of thought. His work at the base appeared to be taking a greater toll than usual.

Perhaps he was picturing the images he had seen, the Japanese and European youth caught in the cross fire. Children who would never again hug their stuffed toys or sleep restfully in their beds.

Counting her blessings, Vivian left the sweet pair to their privacy. In the bathroom, then bedroom, she readied for sleep. As Gene did the same, she sat in bed, waiting. Propped against her pillow, she absently perused a magazine. At last, he settled beneath the covers in his boxers and undershirt.

“I saw Mrs. Langtree today,” she said, faster than intended.

Gene mumbled his acknowledgment and set the alarm on his two-belled clock. Vivian slowed her pace.

“Her sister, the one who lives in Tampa, she’s asked Mrs. Langtree to move in with her. Since Mrs. Langtree needs surgery on her knees, and with the start of her arthritis, she doesn’t think it’s wise to live alone much longer.”

“Yeah?” he said, putting the clock down.

“She’s considered listing her house on the market. With the flood of buyers these days, she could surely get a pretty penny. But, well, you see, she was hoping”–and here it went–“that maybe you and I would be interested.”

Gene adjusted his head on his pillow.

“Honey? Did you hear me?”

“Sorry. How was that?”

She withheld a groan, knowing better than to take offense. He typically afforded her his full attention. She set the magazine on her night table and cut to the point. “Mrs. Langtree wants to sell her house to us. For a whole thousand dollars under market value.”

Surprise shone in his eyes, though only a flicker.

“I know we were going to wait until next year to buy a place, but this is just too marvelous to pass up. Don’t you think?”

“I don’t know, Vivi. Maybe.”

When it came to major decisions-marriage proposal excluded-he was not one to act on impulse. Yet in this case, the window of opportunity was narrow and closing.

“You’ve practically rebuilt half the place as it is. And Judith loves it there. Plus, it has all the things you and I have always talked about. A nice neighborhood, a large, airy kitchen, a wraparound porch. We could even hang a chair there to swing on.”

He sighed, eyes toward the ceiling.

Though at risk of pressuring him, she would have to address a sensitive but vital factor. Without it, he would not agree.

“If it’s a matter of the down payment,” she added, “you know I can help with that.”

“Vivian-”

“Please, just listen.” He was looking at her now. “I’ve thought about it all day. The can of money I’ve put away since I was a little girl. This should be what we spend it on.”

“Doll, that’s not what you saved it for.”

“No,” she conceded, “it’s not.”

What he didn’t know was that using the fund for something other than a cross-country family trip was not a new thought.

During the last year of the war, she had served as a volunteer for the USO. Most often, she would hand out coffee and donuts to soldiers at Grand Central. Occasionally, while Luanne babysat Judith, Vivian would find herself near the ticket booth, daydreaming of buying a pass, jetting off on a whim. But those moments were fleeting, and any notions of regret vanished at the sight of Judith’s grin or the milky scent of her head. At night, Gene would wrap Vivian safely in his arms, even in his sleep, and a feeling would overcome her, that everything in her life had led to this place.