Jim's furlough was to be ten days. Ten glorious days, and he didn't have anywhere else to be - and so, excepting the time he spent with his family, he was all Susanna's.
She supposed she didn't mind sharing him too much; and at least, the night they went out for milkshakes with Steve, she was happy he could gab about boot camp with another fellow. She found it uninteresting and a little sad, but Steve drank in everything Jim said with wide eyes.
"You didn't try to enlist again, did ya, Steve?" Jim asked, slurping the last of his milkshake.
"Uh - yeah. Still no luck."
Jim gave Steve a glare that Susanna could only describe as stern (she'd never seen Jim look stern before), and Steve shrugged his shoulders hopelessly. She looked away, feeling awkward. It had the ring of an old, stale argument, and one that she wasn't a part of.
"Well, don't be going into a decline," Jim said at last. "Susie, do you think you can keep Stevie out of trouble for me while I'm gone?"
Susanna glanced over at Steve, suppressing the urge to smile. "Not really," she said, nudging Jim in the ribs with an elbow. "I'm too busy for a full time job."
She succeeded in making both boys smile. A little of Steve's spark returned.
"Too busy, huh?" James asked, clearly amused. "Doing what?"
"Oh, this and that."
He was leaning towards her in the booth they were sharing, making her blush scarlet. "I'll give you something to do," he muttered under his breath, and Susanna nearly keeled over entirely.
Jim's intention wasn't so bad as he made it seem; the next morning he arrived at her house bright and early, hat under his arm, and immediately whisked her away with Mother's permission.
"Now look here," he told her as she tried to button her gloves with her teeth. It was bad going; at the intersection to cross the street into the heart of Brooklyn Jim paused, and pulled her hands towards her to button the gloves himself. Susanna nearly melted.
"I've gotten some pay for my time at boot camp," James said. "I want you to spend it on the things you'll need for the wedding."
"The - what - Jim, but - "
"And I don't wanna hear any complaints about it, either," he said, pretending to be severe as he tucked her gloved hand in his elbow. But Susanna wasn't one for keeping her complaints to herself.
"Jim, my parents will pay for the wedding," she told him archly. "They did the same for my siblings. Don't be ridiculous."
James thought for a moment, casting her a glare as he shoved his hands in his pockets. They were keeping pace on the sidewalk, dodging other pedestrians as shopfront after shopfront breezed by.
"Fine," he said at last. "Then I want you to pick out some things you'll need for our house."
"Our - " Susanna was, frankly, speechless. She took a moment to compose herself (ignoring Jim's growing amusement), and finally declared, "James Barnes, I cannot and will not take your money."
"You can and you will," Jim said, lips twitching. "It'll be our money, anyway. Consider it practice - you'll be promising to obey me, won't ya?"
"Not on your life," Susanna said tartly. "I'll promise to humor you, though."
He burst into laughter. This drew stares from those passing them on the sidewalk, but Susanna kept her head high. Eventually Jim threw his arm around her shoulder, holding her close. "And what'll the priest have to say to that?" he asked fondly.
"He can change the vows, or we can get married somewhere else. Anyway, I've known Father Rocco long enough that I can persuade him."
They paused at another intersection, and James pressed a kiss to her cheek with an enormous grin. "That's my conniving girl."
Susanna gave him her best innocent smile, and he was laughing again as they crossed the street.
Despite her (mostly half-hearted) protests, Jim did finagle her into a department store. It was a push and pull game then - he suggested one thing or another, Susanna gave an excuse to say no, and he would find something else. She did enjoy daydreaming about living with him after the war was over - but she prided herself on being a tad more practical. Who knew when they would be able to marry - and their wedding guests would surely provide most necessities through gifts.
But she had a weak point. Her lively teasing was silenced when she caught sight of a lovely set of china servingware, and Jim saw her face as she was tracing the pink and yellow rose pattern on the soup tureen.
"Is that gonna fit in your hope chest?" he asked, coming up behind her to wrap his arm around her waist. Susanna scrunched her nose as she glanced back at him.
"No."
"Are you just sayin' that because you don't think I should spend my money on it?"
"Yes."
"Then let's get it."
"James…"
"Sweetheart," he interrupted, spinning her around so that they were facing each other. Susanna gulped; they were very close between the aisles of merchandise. "You may not think we need this, but I do. I need to spoil my girl a little before I leave." And Jim's bright blue eyes were beeseaching, urging her to accept in the most unfair way (and he thought she was the conniving one). She bit her lips, and then sighed.
"Fine. Fine! Buy it if you want."
His cheeky grin was back. "I do want."
"Then we can finally leave."
"It'll just be saving the rest of this discussion for later." And even though there were customers all around, James leaned down to press his lips to hers. Susanna blushed.
That night, after the china was properly admired by her parents, Susanna carefully tucked it away in her hope chest, wrapped in its paper and snuggled in between linens. She was smiling when she closed the lid.
She was not smiling seven days later, when Jim came over one last time before heading to the bus stop to the harbor, where he'd be boarding a ship for Europe. It was late afternoon, and the agonizing wait of the morning for him to stop by had drained Susanna; she welcomed him inside wanly, sniffing through her clogged nose. She must have been a sight, but he evidently didn't care.
"Hey," James said quietly, pulling her into a gentle hug. They were lingering in the entryway; she knew her parents were nearby, and while they probably wouldn't protest a goodbye embrace, she was far more comfortable with Jim alone. She rested her head on his chest, hating the cold brass buttons on her cheeks, but clung to him anyway. They didn't speak for several minutes; she heard Father turning the page of his newspaper twice.
Then suddenly Jim was humming; Susanna caught her breath, recognizing song. Then she gave a hollow laugh, and his hum turned into soft singing.
Don't sit under the apple tree with anyone else but me
I know the apple tree is reserved for you and me…
"And I'll be true to you until you come marching home," Susanna finished bravely, and she stood on her toes to kiss his cheek. James was smiling broadly, but it didn't disguise the look in his eyes. Not quite as jovial as usual, not quite as fearless. But his hands on her arms didn't shake.
"I hope you'll write to me," he teased.
"Every day. I'll probably have to use all my savings just to mail a brick of paper."
Jim laughed. "I look forward to it." He pulled out of the embrace, very gently, and Susanna felt another swoop of dread in her stomach. "You gonna walk me to the bus stop?" he asked with a grin.
"Oh - can I?" A bubble of hope. To put off the inevitable.
"If you like. I wouldn't mind showing you off to all the other fellows."
"Let me get my hat - " Susanna tore herself away to bound upstairs, grabbing her things as she listened to the warbling voices of her parents speaking to James below. Tugging on her gloves, she descended again, striding towards the sitting room where Jim was leaning against the doorway. He turned at her approach, flashing her his crooked smile.
"Come straight home after James is on the bus, dear," Mother said, frowning slightly. "I don't like the thought of you all alone on the platform with those soldiers," she paused. "Shall I go with you?"
"Susanna will be fine, Maria," Father said, flicking his newspaper. "Let the two lovebirds go alone."
Saved by Dad. Susanna took Jim's arm, and after he gave her parents a very polite goodbye, they walked down the entryway and out the front door. The air was warmer than she expected; it was well into April, and winter was over.
James picked up the canvas bag he'd left on the porch, swinging it over his shoulder as he squeezed Susanna's hand. "Thanks for walking me," he said, that teasing glint in his eyes.
"You're welcome," she said primly, keeping up with his long strides.
The three blocks to the bus stop were quiet. Susanna was drawn into her own thoughts, her own dreading of his parting. She didn't know why Jim was quiet; he was usually so talkative...
The platform was crowded. After tossing his bag to a man loading the luggage compartment, Jim turned to hug Susanna one last time. She didn't care that this intimate moment was probably being observed; she wasn't the only woman farwelling her soldier, after all. And she wouldn't see him again for a long time. Hot tears were stinging her eyes, but she managed a watery smile when Jim pulled away. The driver of the bus was honking his horn; soldiers dressed the same as Jim were clamoring aboard.
"See you soon," he said lightly, bending to kiss her cheek. "I'll write as often as I can."
"You'd better," Susanna said fiercely, and kissed him back on the mouth.
Jim laughed, squeezing her arms one last time. Then he picked up her hand, placing a kiss on her engagement ring. "'Bye, Susie."
A hundred things she wanted to say lodged in her throat. So she merely whispered, "Bye, Jim."
He was one of the last on the bus. Susanna stood on the platform, alone, wringing her gloved hands together as she tried to catch sight of him sitting amongst the mass of other soldiers. There were many calls around, many waving arms sticking out of the windows. Then the engine roared to life, and merged into the traffic.
Soon it was out of sight. Sniffling, Susanna wiped a traitorous tear from her cheek, and turned on her heel for home.