Seasons of the Heart (8 page)

She looked up as the rabbi finished chanting Kaddish, and Ann pulled up a handful of earth to toss into the grave. It was too late to tell her she regretted her cruelty during Ann’s engagement, but she touched her hand, hoping her stepdaughter would someday understand.

As she left the cemetery her eye caught Eva’s. For a second it seemed to Stella that there was recognition in that fleeting glance, but then Mrs. Coulter got into her car without speaking. Stella silently stepped into the next limousine and Ben was left to rest in peace at last.

A
NN SPENT THE NEXT
month in quiet despair. She clung to Phillip silently, unable to share her grief. She needed his closeness, but inexplicably she was unable to let him make love to her. Somehow she felt that she would not be honoring her father if she allowed herself to take pleasure in anything.

Many times Ann would wake at night crying bitterly. Phillip would comfort her, but each time he tried to draw her closer she would turn away.

He was incredibly kind and supportive. Before he left for work, he would bring her breakfast on a tray. Three or four times a day he called from the office, and almost every night he brought her a bunch of violets. When he decided she wasn’t eating enough, he began to bring home boxes of candy, hoping to tempt her appetite.

Finally his patience paid off. One weekend he took her up north to the Sonoma Mission Inn. The inn was terribly run down and it rained all weekend, but that night Ann opened her heart and her body to her husband once again.

Phillip blossomed under Ann’s renewed attention. He worked harder at his job and was almost ready to ask for a raise when they woke one Sunday to discover that the lives of all Americans had been permanently disrupted.

Ann was making waffles for a late breakfast when he came into the kitchen.

“These are delicious,” he said, laughing and snagging a piece before she could serve him. “They’re even better than my mother’s.”

Ann feigned a scowl. “Well, I’m glad I can do something better than she can.”

“You do everything better,” Phillip said, turning on the radio.

And that was when they learned the Japanese had attacked Pearl Harbor.

Ann took off her apron and walked into the living room. Phillip sat immobile, his face drained of all color.

“Darling, Honolulu is a million miles from San Francisco.”

Phillip looked at Ann’s puzzled eyes. “Hawaii is a U.S. territory. This means that we are at war.”

Ann felt as though she were going to faint. She held on to the chair so tightly that her knuckles turned white.

“Phillip, what will this mean to us?”

“I’ll either have to enlist or I’ll be drafted. It makes more sense to enlist because then I can apply for officers’ training.”

Ann’s heart almost stopped beating. Her world was falling apart. She had just buried her father; now Phillip was going to leave her, too.

“You can’t!” she cried despairingly. “We’ve just gotten married. I’ll be alone!”

“But, darling—I have no choice!” Even though it was the truth, Phillip felt as if he were abandoning Ann. She looked so vulnerable as she sat on the sofa, weeping. Quickly he got up, gathered her into his arms, and gently carried her into the bedroom. He lay there, Ann cradled in his arms, brushing her lovely dark hair back from her forehead. She was so beautiful, so infinitely precious to him. But once again he was powerless to protect her….

The next morning Phillip stood on the corner of Leavenworth and Bush and watched the men going into the recruiting office. He sighed, realizing that history had twice irrevocably changed the course of his life. First the Depression and now the war. What good did it do to plan? he wondered. He had just begun to feel that life had meaning again, that he might even achieve success as a lawyer, when his world exploded in his face.

Lighting a cigarette, he forced himself to shut off his self-pity. After all, millions of young men were going through the same torment. Squaring his shoulders, he walked across the street.

When he came out, he felt that he had made the best of a bad deal. He was a second lieutenant in the Judge Advocate General’s corps. He didn’t know to whom he would be assigned, or even to which theater, but wherever he went he would be safer than in the infantry.

Ironically, after boot camp, Phillip would receive the rest of his military instruction on the University of California law campus—the very place from which he had graduated. He would be an hour away from Ann, but would not be permitted to see her even for that length of time. The best he could hope for would be a week or two of leave before being shipped out.

That morning it had taken all of Ann’s strength to say goodbye to him without bursting into tears. At breakfast she had kept the conversation going with trivialities and had refused to turn on the radio for any reason whatsoever. Phillip had kissed her goodbye as if he were just going to the office. Ann held up until the front door had firmly closed behind him. Then she collapsed on the bed, sobbing.

It was nearly four that afternoon when Ann was finally able to pull herself together. Sitting up, she stared at her reflection in the mirror. Her face bore the same haunted look it had the day her father died. She couldn’t let Phillip see her this way. Quickly, she went to the bathroom and showered.

After she had slipped into a blue silk dress, she appraised herself. Maybe a little more rouge might draw attention away from the dark circles under her eyes.

She went into the kitchen and turned on the oven. Taking out a small chicken from the ice box, she prepared it for baking. She had just put it into the oven when she heard Phillip’s key in the latch. For a moment she panicked, trying to catch her breath. Then she took off the apron, patted her hair, and went into the hall to greet him.

“Hello, darling,” she said, leading him into the living room. “What can I get you? A drink?”

“That would be great, sweetheart,” Phillip replied. He sank onto the sofa while Ann poured him a scotch and soda.

“How was your day?” Phillip asked cautiously.

“Oh, I took a nap. I guess I was tired.” She paused. “How about you?” Her voice was even but her eyes were clouded with apprehension.

“Long day … I’m sorry I’m late.”

“That’s okay. I just put the chicken in, so it will be awhile until dinner.”

An awkward silence fell between them. Then, after what seemed like an eternity, Phillip said, “How do you like being married to a second lieutenant?” There—it was out in the open. Phillip laughed, hoping to erase the stricken look on Ann’s face. “I just might make this my life’s work. My base pay will be four hundred fifty dollars a month.”

But Ann couldn’t smile. “I think I’d better go look at the chicken.”

Sensing that she was unable to deal with all the implications of his leaving, Phillip said nothing more about the war that evening. But as the days passed and Ann asked no questions, Phillip realized that she was pretending that nothing was going to change.

Friday, after work, Phillip picked up his uniform. He took it home and tried it on, unexpectedly feeling a surge of pride. Straightening his shoulders, he walked into the living room, where Ann was reading a magazine. At the sight of him, she jumped up. “Phillip!”
Why couldn’t you have waited?
she wanted to shout.
How could you do this to me?
But she bit back the words. It wasn’t Phillip who had done this to her—it was the world.

For the next two days she steeled herself for the moment of Phillip’s leaving, and by Monday morning she felt strangely calm. Their separation had an air of unreality. Phillip would be so close, but he could not come home, and apparently he would be lucky to even call. But at least for the next few weeks he would be safe, and Ann was grateful for that much.

Time passed faster than she could have believed. Phillip returned from basic training just one day before his orders arrived. They were brief and to the point: six days later he was to report at the Ferry Building on Market Street.

They had so little time left—less than a week! They were determined to savor those last precious days as though nothing threatened their lives together.

Ann cooked all his favorite dishes, wore her prettiest dresses, and joined him in bed with passion equal to his. They avoided talking about the war and spoke instead of their plans for when Phillip came home. What kind of house they would buy, how many children they would have. Four? Five? Okay, five.

On the final Saturday, Ann fussed endlessly over dinner, wanting everything to be perfect. Precisely at seven o’clock, Kenny and Ruthie arrived, followed by the Coulters. For once there was no tension between Ann and Eva. Ann forced herself to smile as her mother-in-law talked endlessly of how adorable Phillip had been as a child.

Eva insisted on describing the rainy day when four-year-old Phillip had been caught wading in the fish pond without his rubber boots. Eva had thrown open the window, shouting for him to come inside before he caught his death of cold. She had been furious until he had innocently opened his slicker, baring a swimsuit.

“It’s just swimming, Mummy,” he had called and she had burst out laughing.

Now, a hard lump caught in Eva’s throat. What was going to happen to her baby? Where would they send him? Tears welled up in her eyes, but she blinked them back, and even tried to include Ann in the conversation.

Ruthie and Kenny had the most cheerful news of the evening. Ruthie was expecting a baby, and even though Kenny was leaving the following week for England, she could not suppress her excitement. Phillip poured brandy and toasted the infant’s safe birth.

Looking at him laughing and joking with Kenny, Ann’s heart swelled with pride. Her handsome husband was so strong, so good. Surely God would spare him. Forgetting that there was anyone else in the room, she lifted her glass. “To you, darling. No man has ever had a wife who loved him more than I love you.”

He got up and embraced her. Life hadn’t defeated him after all. Tonight he was the victor in destiny’s little charade.

Shortly afterward Ruthie and Kenny left, with Ruthie promising to call every day. Then Eva and Simon got up.

“It was a wonderful dinner, Ann.” For the first time Ann heard genuine warmth in Eva’s voice. She pressed Eva’s hand as Simon once again applauded Phillip’s choice of a wife and then hurried Eva out the door so as not to intrude on the couple’s last night together.

Ann willed herself to forget that anything else existed in the world except these last precious hours with Phillip, and in bed she did everything she could to heighten his joy. They lay in each others arms dozing until Phillip gathered her to him one last time.

At 4:30 she slipped out of bed and prepared breakfast—orange juice, smoked salmon, scrambled eggs, and coffee. When he came into the kitchen, she turned and said, “Look how much I’ve improved since our wedding night.”

“In every way,” he said suggestively.

“I guess I was pretty nervous.”

“You think
you
were nervous!”

They laughed and Phillip said, lifting his orange juice, “Let’s drink to us!”

“And to Karen.”

“Karen?”

“Yes. I thought that that would be a lovely name for our first daughter, since my mother’s name was Kara. What do you think?”

Phillip felt an overwhelming joy. Of course, the timing was terrible, but …

“My God, no!” Ann said. “I’m sorry, I just …” her voice trailed off.

“Karen Coulter is a lovely name,” Phillip said. “We’ll save it for my return.”

And the terrible moment they had been avoiding descended with a crash. It was time for him to leave.

Watching Phillip button his uniform, Ann was no longer able to close her eyes to the fact that he was going to war. She could barely speak as they picked up the Coulters and drove down to the Ferry Building, where rows of olive drab trucks were lined ominously against the curb.

Phillip embraced his mother. She seemed so fragile this morning. Then he turned to his father. “Take care of yourself.” That was not what he wanted to say at all.
I should have been a better son
, he wanted to tell Simon. But the words were left unsaid as he turned at last to Ann. For a lingering moment, he held her close. How could he find the courage to leave? Quickly he kissed her and walked to the waiting bus.

Ann waved courageously although she felt as if her heart were breaking. Then she turned and saw the Coulters desperately clinging to each other. They looked as if they had aged ten years overnight. A wave of compassion swept over her: Phillip was their only child.

“I think it’s time to go home now,” she said gently.

They went back to Ann’s apartment and she suggested a bite to eat. Noting Simon’s drawn face, she added, “Can I get you some brandy?”

“That’s very kind of you, my dear. But could I possibly just lie down for a bit?”

“Of course.” Ann quickly went to the bedroom, turned back the spread, and plumped up the pillows. “Now, are you sure that there isn’t anything I can get for you?”

“No, thank you, no, Ann. All I need is a short rest and I’ll be as good as new.”

Ann doubted that that would be the case, but closed the door behind her softly and went to join her mother-in-law in the living room.

As the two women sat together, Ann felt an urge to reach out to Phillip’s mother. Seeing Eva’s grief as she bid Phillip goodbye had made Ann realize how deeply Eva loved her son. “Mrs. Coulter, now that Phillip is gone, I’ve been hoping that perhaps you and I could become closer to one another. Would you mind if I called you Mother?”

Eva was so touched she had difficulty responding. “I don’t know why you would want to call me Mother,” she said. “I’ve never been that kind to you.”

“Today, that really doesn’t matter. The truth is, I need a mother. More important, I would feel so much closer to Phillip if we were a family in the true sense of the word. I know how much he loves you.”

Eva reached into her purse, took out a lace-edged handkerchief, and dabbed her eyes. “I don’t quite know what to say. I feel very guilty for having treated you the way I did.”