All She Ever Wanted

  “Don’t, Rick! Come on, that’s morbid,” Eleanor said, but she was laughing along with everyone else. “Come on, get out of there,” she urged.

  Rick waited until she came over to nudge him, then suddenly sat up, shouting, “Boo!” Eleanor shrieked, then clamped her hand over her mouth.

  “I’m getting out of here,” Cynthia said. She closed the refrigerator and hurried up the stairs with the oleomargarine. Steve followed close behind her. The two of them had the popcorn cooked by the time Eleanor and Rick came back a few minutes later. Cynthia could tell by their flushed, happy faces that they had been kissing.

  They all munched popcorn and laughed some more. None of them wanted the evening to end. Cynthia had forgotten her earlier misgivings and had lost all track of the time until she heard Doris and Lucille clomping up the steps.

  “Hey, I smell popcorn!” Doris called.

  “Quick! Hide!” Cynthia gasped. She jumped to her feet, pulling Steve with her, and shoved him into the closet. It wasn’t big enough for both men, so Rick rolled onto his stomach and crawled under Eleanor’s bed. Eleanor leaped on top of the bed and dove beneath the covers.

  “Ouch! That’s my head!” Rick grunted.

  “Shh!” Cynthia hissed. She ran around in circles trying to hide the playing cards and the two extra water glasses.

  “Knock, knock!” Lucille sang. She and Doris walked in the way they always did. “How’s the patient? Up awfully late, aren’t you?”

  “Miserable,” Eleanor moaned from under the covers. “I tried to go to sleep and couldn’t.” She coughed convincingly a few times.

  “Why do you have your coat on, Cynthia?” Doris asked. Cynthia felt the blood rush to her face.

  “I… um… it’s warmer than my bathrobe.” She breathed a sigh of relief when Doris changed the subject. The two neighbors rattled on and on about their evening at the USO, describing all the fellows they’d danced with.

  “Your boyfriend was looking for you, Eleanor. Big-mouth Lucille spilled the beans and told him where you lived. I hope he doesn’t come around and pester you.”

  “He said he wanted to send her a card,” Lucille explained. “I didn’t see the harm in telling him.”

  “I don’t mind,” Eleanor said. “Don’t worry about it. The army keeps him much too busy to become a full-time pest.”

  Cynthia turned out all but one light, hoping their two neighbors would get the hint. They didn’t. Lucille picked up the bowl of leftover popcorn and sat down on the sofa to share it with Doris.

  “You’re breaking the rules, you know,” Doris said. “Mrs. Montgomery told us we weren’t supposed to cook in our rooms.”

  “Making popcorn isn’t considered cooking,” Eleanor said. “It’s no different than boiling water. Hey, I hate to be a spoilsport, but it’s late, and I’d better get some rest or I’ll never make it to work on Monday.”

  A few more minutes passed before they finally finished eating popcorn and left. Cynthia quietly locked the door behind them so they couldn’t barge in again. When she turned around and looked at Eleanor, they both started to giggle. Eleanor leaned over to peer beneath the bed.

  “They’re gone. You can come out, now,” she said. Rick rolled out from under the bed, sneezing. Eleanor brushed dust bunnies from his hair. Steve opened the closet door a crack and stuck his head out.

  “Is it safe? Phew! It smells like mothballs in there. Another minute or two and I would have conked out.” They were all laughing and whispering and shushing each other.

  “You’d better go,” Eleanor said. Rick pulled her into his arms.

  “That really is a terrible cold you have, ma’am. Dr. Rick better give you a kiss to make it better.” Cynthia saw the tender way he looked at Eleanor as he tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, and she wondered if she would ever meet a man who would love her that much. He and Eleanor kissed as if it was their last hour together on earth, and Cynthia and Steve turned away to give them a moment of privacy.

  “Thanks for a fun evening,” Steve whispered.

  “We’ll do it again sometime,” Cynthia promised. “But probably not here. It’s too nerve-wracking.” They both snickered.

  Rick finally tore himself away from Eleanor, and Cynthia herded the men down the pitch-black stairs, the wooden risers groaning and creaking as they went. She breathed a sigh of relief when the door was safely bolted behind them. When she tiptoed back to their room, Eleanor was sitting up in bed with tears streaming down her face.

  “Are you falling in love with Rick?” Cynthia asked.

  “I’m not ‘falling,’” she said miserably. “I already fell… and landed hard.” Eleanor swiped at her eyes, then blew her nose. “I never intended for this to happen, you know—it just did. I’ve never felt this way about anyone before. And neither has Rick.”

  Cynthia hung up her coat and switched off the light, then climbed into her own bed. “Didn’t you tell me that all rich guys are liars?” she asked after she’d snuggled down under the covers.

  “Rick is fed up with that phony life. That’s why he defied his father and enlisted. Now that he’s free from his father’s shadow for the first time and making his own decisions, he doesn’t want to go back to that country club life. He wants a real life, with kids who live at home instead of in fancy boarding schools and who go fishing with their dad on the weekends. Rick’s father worked all the time, and he hardly even knows him. He plans to give the company to Rick so that he’ll have to work hard all the time, too, and be miserable. That’s not a life. Rick is going to chuck it all when the war is over and make it on his own. I respect him for that.”

  “What about all that stuff you said about GIs having a girl in every port?”

  Eleanor laughed softly. “This is Rick’s first assignment. He hasn’t had time to collect a bevy of women.”

  “Didn’t you say you wanted to marry a man who had something in common with you?”

  “We have more in common than you think.”

  Cynthia waited. Eleanor never talked about herself or her family, except for her brother, Leonard. “My father was very wealthy, too,” she finally said. “Very upper class. But he cared more about money than anything else—including Leonard and me and our mother.”

  Cynthia waited for more, but that was all the information that Eleanor was willing to disclose. She was silent for so long that Cynthia wondered if she had fallen asleep.

  “Maybe I’m a fool for falling in love,” she finally said, and Cynthia heard tears in her breaking voice. “But this is more than just physical attraction—although I’ll admit that’s part of it. We spend more time talking than we do kissing, believe it or not.”

  “What do you talk about?”

  “Everything. What we want from life, how we’re looking forward to really living when the war is over. The places we want to visit, the things we want to see. Rick is as excited about seeing the world as I am. I never met a guy like him before. Most guys just want to make piles of money and boss their wives around. As soon as the war is over, we’re going to forget the past and start all over again, together.” She paused for a moment. “I’ll tell you a secret if you promise not to tell anyone.”

  “Of course, Ellie. I promise.”

  “Rick asked me to marry him. I told him yes.”

  “Oh, Eleanor! That’s wonderful! I wish I could meet somebody special— rich or not.”

  “You will, Cynthia. You will. Probably when you least expect it.”

  Chapter

  16

  C ynthia gazed at her reflection in the darkened bus window, the laboring engine droning in her ears as the bus swayed down the now familiar route from Bensenville to Riverside. The rural road was deserted this late at night, and with blackout curtains shrouding the windows of any houses they passed, Cynthia felt as though she traveled beneath the sea. She could see Eleanor’s reflection beside her own, gazing silently into the darkness, and she wondered what was wrong. Eleanor usually came alive at night,
entertaining Cynthia and everyone else with her laughter and witty jokes as they rode back to Riverside after a dance or the movies. But Eleanor and Rick had both been subdued all evening, huddling together at one of the corner tables at the USO. They hadn’t even gotten up to dance.

  “Did you have a fight with Rick or something?” Cynthia asked her. “You’ve been awfully quiet all evening.”

  “No, we didn’t have a fight,” she said with a sigh. “But we’re living on borrowed time.”

  “What do you mean?” Cynthia couldn’t imagine their relationship ending. They seemed so deeply in love, so happy together.

  Eleanor sighed again. “Rick finishes his training in two weeks. We’ll have one more Saturday night together. He’ll get a three-day furlough to go home and see his family, then he’s being shipped out.”

  “Oh, Ellie. You poor girl.” Cynthia turned to give her a hug. Eleanor usually seemed uncomfortable with such emotional displays, but she accepted Cynthia’s embrace with a sniffle. They rode in silence for the remainder of the trip, then hurried through Riverside’s deserted streets to the funeral home. Eleanor still seemed troubled when they reached their room.

  “Cynthia…? Can we talk?” she asked.

  “Of course. I’m your best friend. You can tell me anything.” Cynthia sat down on the sofa and gestured to the place beside her, but Eleanor remained standing, too upset to sit. She hesitated for a long moment, as if afraid of something.

  “Rick wants us to be together on his last weekend,” she finally said. “I don’t know whether I should or not.”

  Cynthia stared at her, not comprehending. “Why wouldn’t you want to be together?”

  “Not together, like we are every weekend,” Eleanor said with an irritated frown. “He wants to sleep with me before he ships off.”

  “Oh.” Cynthia looked away, embarrassed by the subject matter—and by her own nai . “I think that’s a bad idea,” she finally said.

  “I know, I know,” Eleanor said as she paced across the rag rug in front of Cynthia. “I’ve been telling him no because of my—never mind. But I keep worrying that something terrible will happen to Rick and I’ll never get another chance to be with him. I would regret it for the rest of my life.”

  “Listen, I know I’m pretty nai ve,” Cynthia said, choosing her words carefully, “and I’m not nearly as knowledgeable about these things as you are. But the girls in school always said that a boy wouldn’t marry a girl who gave in to him. And what if you get pregnant?”

  “I know, I know. But so many men are dying, and… and I may never see Rick again… and I want to know what it’s like to be with him. I love him so much!” She bit her lip, trying to stop her tears.

  “Everyone can see how much you love each other, Ellie, but it’s still not a good idea. I know this sounds old-fashioned and all that, but the Bible says it’s wrong to do it if you’re not married.”

  Eleanor’s shoulders slumped, and she sank down in the armchair as if the nervous energy that fueled her had abruptly discharged, like a pinpricked balloon. “I know. That’s the main reason why I’ve been saying no. I was brought up in the church, too.” She must have seen Cynthia’s surprise because she added, “Leonard stopped going to Mass when we were in high school, so I eventually stopped, too. But I do believe in right and wrong. And I know that there are always consequences when people break God’s laws. I’ve seen it in real life.” She paused, then added, “But I love Rick so much! I wish we could get married right now.”

  “You’re both so young, Eleanor.”

  “I’m almost twenty. Rick has never been with a girl… that way. He knows he could die, and he wants to know what it’s like. … And he wants it to be with me. I don’t want to make him mad, Cynthia—not now, not right before he leaves.”

  “If he gets mad that’s his problem. Besides, he’s wrong to use anger to talk you into this. Stick to your principles. He’ll respect you for it.”

  “You’re right,” Eleanor said with a sigh. “Thanks for your help.” She braced her hands on the arms of the chair and stood. But she still looked preoccupied as she put on her pajamas and climbed into bed, and Cynthia couldn’t help wondering what she was really thinking.

  The following weekend, as Eleanor was preparing for her last Saturday night date with Rick, Cynthia decided to bring up the subject once again.

  “Please don’t do it, Eleanor,” she urged. “It would be a mistake that you could never undo.”

  “I won’t. I know you’re right.” Eleanor smiled, but it seemed forced. “Listen, don’t wait for me at the bus station. Rick says he’ll bring me home.”

  Cynthia worried about her friend all evening. She rode the bus back to Riverside alone and was in her bathrobe, pacing the floor long after midnight, when she finally heard Eleanor’s key rattling in the downstairs door. A moment later Eleanor burst into the room, dancing with excitement. She grabbed Cynthia’s hands and whirled her around in a circle saying, “Guess what? Guess what? Guess what?”

  Cynthia was afraid to guess, worried that she had given in to Rick after all.

  “Rick and I are getting married!”

  “Married? After the war, you mean?”

  “No! Next weekend. He has a three-day furlough before he ships off, so we’re going to go before a justice of the peace and get married. Rick says we can renew our vows with a priest and get the blessing of the church when he comes home.”

  “Are you sure you want to do that? You’ve only known him a short time.”

  “I’m positive. If the war has taught us anything, it’s that life is very short and time is precious. If something should happen—well, at least I’ll know what it was like to be his wife. And Rick says it will get him through all the rough spots ahead if he knows he has a life with me to look forward to after the war.”

  “And what if you don’t feel the same way about each other after the war?”

  “We will! What a dumb thing to ask! I want to spend the rest of my life with Rick. I can’t imagine living without him.”

  “Is he this certain, too? Are you sure it’s not just a way for him to… you know?”

  “No! For pete’s sake, Cynthia! How could you think that of Rick?”

  “I’m sorry. I’ve never been in love, so you’ll have to excuse me. I don’t know what you’re going through.”

  Tears filled Eleanor’s eyes. “It hurts so much whenever we’re apart; it hurts to breathe and to eat and to sleep. … I feel like I’m only half of a person without him. But when we’re together… oh, the world is such a wonderful place, and I feel like I’m bursting with life! I never imagined that falling in love would be this terrible and this wonderful, did you?”

  “My parents never talked about love very much when I was growing up. They believed that people got married so they could work together and raise kids. I never saw much affection or anything between them.”

  Eleanor gazed into space as if she’d forgotten that Cynthia was there. “My mother told me once how much love hurts, but I didn’t believe her. She was crazy about my father and would have licked his shoes clean for him. I never wanted to be so hung up on a man that I would lose myself that way. And now, here I am—completely lost! Oh, I don’t think I could live without Rick—” She covered her face and wept.

  Cynthia gathered her into her arms. “Hey, there’s no time for tears. We’ve got a wedding to plan—one week from today, right? You’ll need a marriage license and a dress and a place to honeymoon. … I’ll be your maid of honor or your flower girl or your best man or whatever you want me to be. Just name it.”

  Eleanor laughed through her tears and hugged her in return. “Thanks, Cynthia. You’re the best friend I ever had.”

  A week later, Cynthia witnessed Rick and Eleanor’s vows as they stood before a justice of the peace in Bensenville. They looked deliriously happy as they gazed into each other’s eyes and promised to love each other, for richer or for poorer, until death parted them. Three other c
ouples waited in line behind them, and the grooms were all soldiers from Rick’s military base, about to be shipped overseas.

  Mr. Tomacek had grudgingly excused Eleanor from work on Monday and Tuesday—without pay, of course—so she could go on a brief honeymoon, then see her new husband off at the train station. When Cynthia returned home from work on Tuesday afternoon, Eleanor was already there. She wore an apron tied around her waist and a kerchief on her head, and the music of Glenn Miller blared from the radio as she turned the room upside down in a cleaning frenzy.

  “Well, if it isn’t Mrs. Richard Trent,” Cynthia said as she set her empty lunch pail and thermos in the sink. “Married only three days and I see you’ve already become a busy little housewife.”

  Eleanor smiled as she bent to sweep a pile of dust into the dustpan.

  “Rick’s train left this morning. I didn’t know what else to do with myself.”

  “How’s married life, Mrs. Trent? Is it as wonderful as you dreamed it would be?”

  “It’s heaven!” Eleanor said, laughing. “We barely left the hotel room for three whole days. Being with Rick is—” She couldn’t finish. Eleanor’s fac ade crumbled, and she sank to the floor in the pile of dust and wept.

  In the following weeks, Eleanor kept her false front carefully in place in public, but Cynthia knew how thin and brittle her calm, poised veneer really was. Eleanor approached everything she did with a fevered intensity, as if trying to distract herself from thoughts of Rick. Her emotions rose or sank with the daily mail. Eleanor raced home every afternoon after work to see if Mrs. Montgomery had shoved a letter from Rick under their door, then sat at the desk every night, crying her heart out as she wrote back to him. Rick wrote to her nearly as often, and if she didn’t find a letter from him one day, there likely would be two from him the next.