This is just a one-shot for now, but I may be pursuaded to carry it on if anyone wants.
As usual, I do not own it...although I don't actually know who does.
And so we married, Evelyn and I, on a warm April day at the Navy church in Honolulu. After living through all that I had in the past year, in England and France, America and Asia, she was still the most beautiful woman I had ever seen. On that day her pure white gown moulded to her body and did not try to hide the slight swell of her stomach. She was not ashamed of being pregnant on her wedding day, despite what others might think. She was proud to carry Danny's child; that a piece of him might live on, and I was honoured to know that he had entrusted the care of her and the baby to me. His child would grow up with the love and care Danny himself did not receive but which I had always longed that he would get from his parents as I had.
I was honourably discharged from the Navy directly after returning from the Doolittle raid. I had done my duty to my country, and the wound I had received in China never properly healed. And so it was with a mixture of excitement and regret that Evelyn and I moved back to my old home in Tennessee.
My father had died some years ago and I spent the first month of my homecoming returning the farm to its former state. Evelyn soon made friends in the town, the other women readily taking to the pretty young woman who was married to the war hero. We were so carefree and in Love, it never crossed anybody's mind that the child was not mine. And for the most part it did not cross mine. I love Evelyn, with all my heart, and I loved Danny like a brother, more than a brother. I could not find any resentment in my heart for this child. In fact, it being Danny's child made me love it even more. Not only was I having a son, I felt I was also getting a part of my best friend back.
At the end of the days in the field, I would return to the house to have dinner with my wife. Long after we were finished we stayed at the table, talking about our days, reminiscing about Danny and the good times together, laughing, crying. We would wash dishes together and snatch kisses between passed plates and soapy hands. This is what I had missed out on the first time we were together, what I had always dreamt of having with her. As the sun set, sometimes we would go flying, and through her silence I knew these were the times she would think of him, pressing closer into me as I kissed her forehead and whispered, "I miss him too".
But usually as the night fell we would sit on the porch watching the day end through the haze of the setting sun, or slowly dancing to the radio, or walking in the long grass and wild flowers she loves so much. We would end the day making love between cool white sheets under the perfect clear starry nights of that summer. I loved falling asleep in her arms, feeling her body mould to mine as she placed her head on my shoulder and drift to sleep in my arms.
Our love and devotion only grew along with her body. We spent endless hours talking and learning all about each other. We spoke of our friends who died, and those who like us had moved on. I had never realised until that point what love really meant, it was not in the big grand gestures, though they could sometimes be good. Real love, they type that lasted and mattered existed in the little things. As we merged our lives together we learnt everything we could about one another, bolstering that love with a remarkable friendship. She found out just how much I loved lemons, and although they were scarce due to the war, every couple of weeks she would surprise me with my favourite lemon pie. I knew she regretted having to give up nursing when she became pregnant, so talked to the local doctor who was glad to have any help he could, whenever Evelyn had the time. She knew I was secretly afraid of the goose we owned and she took responsibility for wrangling it until we were going to eat it, and I soon learned that she was scared of mice and so bought her a little tabby cat to hunt them down. Our kitten was called Athos, and has been a fabulous mouse-catcher for all these years now!
It was a cool night in July when our son began to make an appearance. The blistering heat of the day had finally subsided and I had been rubbing Evelyn's feet as we sat on the porch and appreciated the cool night air. Her labour was mercifully short, and as the sun was beginning a new day, our son was born: a new life. And boy, did I love this little boy. He had dark hair, like his mother…and his father. I could barely tear my gaze from him, but when I did I was met with the equally shining eyes of my wife. We both stared at the baby for long minutes. We had decided on a name if the baby was a boy, but not told anyone else yet; not until I whispered,
"Hey Danny, I'm your Daddy".
If you read, please review.