Chapter 22
I let my bike fall onto the Liftons’ front yard, the front wheel still spinning as I ran for the door.
Her yellow car was the only one in the drive, but if I’d seen her husband’s, that wouldn’t have stopped me.
I pushed aside their Christmas wreath to knock, my fingers stiff from gripping the handlebars.
I could hear music through the open windows, something with violins, some symphony she’d know the name of that I didn’t.
I counted to five, then knocked again. I thought, my God.
My God. He’s a prisoner. So not in Japan.
What did I feel? Confusion. And something like hope, rising up, only to be knocked down by what I knew was likely.
He’d been sent back to Korea, then caught.
He might be in danger, and that was serious.
But he didn’t love me, and he didn’t care about the baby. Nothing regarding me had changed.
When I cupped my eyes to the screen of one of the front windows, I could see past the living room into the dining room, where a mug and a plate sat on the table.
I decided to go home and telephone. That would be the right thing to do.
But as I was getting on my bike, I felt the breeze lift my hair, and I threw down my bike again.
She had a sprinkler going in the side yard.
I ran right through its mist to the back.
And there she was, on the little patio off her bedroom, wearing dungarees and an untucked shirt that was too big for her, the sleeves rolled up to her elbows.
They still had all that nice patio furniture, exactly as it had been, but she stood by the sliding glass door with her back to me, her hands on her hips. When I said her name, she spun around.
“Oh my goodness! Nora! I can’t believe it. My goodness. How are you?”
I was still working to catch my breath. I was surprised by how much older she looked, even in the shade of the overhang. I hadn’t seen her in two years. I likely looked older as well.
“Did you know Leonard’s a prisoner in Korea?” I asked. “His name’s on the list, in the paper.”
When she stopped smiling, she looked even older. She was thinner than I remembered, and it showed in her face. I could see, for the first time, what she would look like as an old woman, in twenty, thirty years.
She put her hand to her chest. “Oh you saw the list. Of course. I heard it was out today. We’ve known for some time, though. Leonard was captured in July.” She stepped into the sunlight, shielding her eyes. What she saw in my eyes must have worried her.
“This last July,” she added. A honeybee emerged from a white flower on one of the climbing vines. She reached over to shoo it from my face.
“I thought he was in Japan.”
“He was, Nora. They sent him back to Korea in the spring. Sweetheart. Do you want to sit down?” She gestured at the love seat. “You look like you need to sit down.”
“No ma’am. Thank you.” Her lemon tree was taller than it had been. They had a cover over their swimming pool. Beyond their lawn and the retaining wall, the water in the bayou glinted.
“That was in March,” she said, “that he was sent to the fighting. After…after you were in New Jersey. When we learned he’d been captured, we were actually relieved. I mean, it’s better than the front. You know? He’s not having fun, but he’s safe.”
I told her that I did need to sit down after all.
She took me by the arm and guided me to the love seat, then she told me she’d be right back with some water.
She went inside, locking the screen door behind her.
Even in my distress, I wondered if she was calling my parents, or the police.
Her husband had told me to stay away. They’d paid half the fee.
The baby was gone. Our entanglement was concluded.
She came back out with a glass of water and sat beside me. She was barefoot, her toenails unpainted.
“He’s not hurt?”
“No.” She closed her eyes and put her hand to her chest. “He’s fine.”
“You’re lying,” I said. “You’re lying to me.”
She opened her eyes. We stared at each other. She had to be lying. I wanted her to be lying. On the ride over, I pedaled as hard as I could, weaving through traffic, terrified but also elated because finally, finally, something made sense: Leonard never wrote because he couldn’t.
“Oh Nora,” she said. “I’m so sorry. I see that you got your hopes up. But he’s really okay. He was in Japan, on base, before you left for New Jersey, and he was still there, in Japan, when you came back.” She reached for my arm. “Sweetheart. You’ve got to move on.”
I pulled my arm out of reach. “How do you know he’s okay? He’s a prisoner. How do you know?”
“Well, he writes to us,” she said. “I’m sure his letters go through their censors, but it’s his handwriting. He says he’s fine. He sounds like himself.”
“Meaning?” Bitterness curdled inside me. “What does sounding like himself mean?”
She caught the edge in my voice and hesitated.
“Really,” I said. “I want to know.”
“Okay.” She threw up her hands. “He wrote that he misses my lasagna. He said the food was adequate, but only that. And he wishes he had a book or two, as there isn’t a lot to do.
But he knows how lucky he is, riding out so much of the fighting in Japan, and now as a captive.
He said other men there, you know, other prisoners, came in injured in battle.
But he wasn’t. Thank goodness. He was just caught. ”
“Huh,” I said. I was thinking how unfair that was, all those men getting hurt. Decent men, probably. And he was fine. “Does he ever ask how I’m doing?”
She bit her lip. I saw the pity in her eyes. I didn’t care.
“Mrs. Lifton, did he meet somebody over there? Is that what happened?”
She winced, then nodded.
Okay, I thought. Okay. At least I knew. I told myself it shouldn’t hurt so much. He was no prize. If some other girl didn’t care about character, she could have him. But a sob rose in my throat. He’d fallen in love, was what had happened. He really had moved on.
“This girl. She’s still in Japan, waiting for him?”
She nodded again. “I’m so sorry, Nora.”
I didn’t want her apology. We both knew she’d tried to warn me.
I’d just been the first girl brave enough to talk to him, to see he didn’t have the confidence he should.
Perhaps I’d given him confidence, and he’d taken it to Japan.
I didn’t know if this girl he loved now was a USO girl or Japanese, or anything about her.
And I didn’t want to know. He had the right to fall out of love with me, and to fall in it with someone else.
But he’d had no right to leave my letters, my pleas for help, unanswered. Or to say I was lying about Bradenton.
“Let me ask you something, Mrs. Lifton. Did he ever ask if his child was a boy or a girl? Was he curious at all?”
I knew I was making her uncomfortable. That was okay with me.
I wasn’t going to sit there and act like her son was a decent person.
As if I were the liar and he wasn’t. How tragic that he missed her lasagna.
How devastating that he didn’t have a book to read, and he had to just sit and stare at whatever walls were keeping him safe.
“Just to be clear,” I said. “He knows about the baby?”
She nodded. “He was sorry about it. He was glad you could get a fresh start.”
I stomped my foot so hard she flinched.
“There’s no fresh start! Mrs. Lifton, I’ve got a little baby out in the world, and I didn’t know her name, or if she’s even alive. And for what? Nothing would have made it worth it, giving her away. But I’m still disgraced. My family’s disgraced.”
“Oh Nora. Oh. I’m so sorry.”
Heat rose in my throat. “That was Leonard’s child.
Okay? I know I broke a promise to you when I met him in Bradenton.
But I did meet him in Bradenton. In April, when he was on leave.
If he told you I’m lying about that, he’s lying.
I want you to know that. I’ve never been with anyone but him.
” I wiped my face with the hem of my skirt.
“I get it now. I was a passing thing for him, but he wasn’t that for me. ”
She reached across my lap and took both of my hands. Her fingers were cool, her hold on me gentle. “Of course you’re hurt. Of course. Oh I wish I could undo all of it.” Even her arms looked thin, the skin around her elbows sagging. I leaned back to look at her.
“Mrs. Lifton? Are you okay?”
The question appeared to confuse her. I tried to think of the right words.
“I mean. Are you…ill?”
She blinked and touched her hand to her face. I worried she thought that I’d meant to be mean. But I had no spite for her. Out of the three of them, she’d been the kindest.
She laughed a little. “I’m afraid you caught me without my face on. A little paint can do wonders for a woman my age.”
“I didn’t mean…Mrs. Lifton, you’re so beautiful, still.”
I said it because I believed it. But she turned away like I’d embarrassed her again. When she turned back, she looked at me with frankness.
“I should be honest with you. These last few years have taken a toll on me. First there was all the fighting between Leonard and his father. Leonard joining the army, throwing away his plans. When I knew he was in Korea again, maybe on the front lines, I could hardly eat or sleep I was so worried. I’m feeling better now, knowing where he is, and that he’s more or less safe. But I just want him home.”
Now I had to look away. Everything she’d just listed, everything she’d gone through, could be traced back to me. It seemed a wonder she didn’t hate me. But even as I was thinking this, she reached over and tucked a strand of hair behind my ear.
“What are you up to these days?” she asked. “You must have graduated in May.”
I didn’t want to tell her that I’d dropped out. “I’m just working at the library. Living at home.”