Christmas was soon upon us and Daddy's visit was a distant memory I wanted to forget. While we were wary of his words about war, Hawkeye did not appreciate my father sneaking behind his back and visiting me. I didn't mind. It was normal to me.
"I gave him the respect of asking to marry you," Hawkeye thundered one night. "He can't even tell me when he's coming to town?"
"He's still in the Army," I reminded him. "Leaves are hard to come by."
Love didn't want to listen to reason. Eventually, he calmed down about it and began taking apart his words about Vietnam. Another war made Hawkeye nervous. He did not want to go back to Asia and neither did I. While Greg reassured me time and again that we were safe, our children were still pawns for the slaughter. Women could not go to the Front Lines as fighters, but they can be used in other ways in the military. Our daughters could be career officers and not know it as we do.
Hawkeye would ask me about Vietnam often and how women can be drafted. When I reassured him that woman weren't as susceptible to the draft as men were, he relaxed. But he worried still. With our daughters growing up and developing their skills, he was anxious that one or both will be useful in war.
About Vietnam, he understood more of and could link to Korea. He knew that it was west of Korea and split the same way. He heard the news reports when we were in Korea how the French were being overrun by the "Communist Gorillas". He did not understand the politics behind their rebellion as much as he did with Korea. To be honest, neither did I. I did not want to think about it and often pushed the topic to one side.
Christmas was coming, for God's sake! I wanted to scream that at him over and over again. I didn't want to obsess over another country we have to supposedly police. We had a beautiful home and family. I didn't want to picture our daughters in a foreign country. Worse, I didn't want to think bout our twins. One or both could be a son.
Hawkeye and I had been busy otherwise and I made it that way, to preserve his mind away from war. Radar and his mother were coming to visit us this year for the holidays and staying until before the New Year. We knew that the house had to be a certain way for Mrs. O'Reilly or else she would not be comfortable. Radar wouldn't have minded either way. He was excited to be seeing us.
We were confused though. Radar had married Sandy in a small ceremony the previous year, we heard. Yet, he didn't tell us anything about her or the marriage or mentioned anything in his letters about her except that she existed. It was like she and the marriage was the best-kept secret in Iowa. Even Mrs. O'Reilly didn't mention the girl in her letters to us and only said that "Walter" was a man now. Worse, Sandy was not even showing up for our Christmas gathering. Radar offered no clarification and only said he'd elucidate when he got here.
"Marriage blues?" I asked Hawkeye one day when he got off the telephone with Radar. "It could be that she isn't ready to meet all of us."
"Well, it sure as hell isn't cold feet," Hawkeye replied in a huff. "They did marry. I don't think what I taught Radar made it to the bedroom."
I swatted him. "Don't be hard on him. I am sure there is a logical explanation for this."
Hawkeye was not so sure. He expressed his doubts about his tutelage of Radar. I thought that he did a fine job (Henry and our very own Sherman Potter did as well and a much better job was had). I wanted Hawkeye more focused on Christmas anyway. I was sure that Radar would let us in on Sandy.
I tried getting Hawkeye's attention other ways and luckily succeeded. Little by little, I helped to make the house more festive and counted the days until December 22, when Hawkeye would drive to Portland to pick the pair up from the airport. I was on bedrest for the most part, but I always snuck downstairs when nobody was looking. I could not be left behind while everyone strung the popcorn, retrieved the tree and decorated the house. I was so obnoxious that even my daughters told me to go back to bed. For them, life went on without me and they did not necessarily need me.
One night, I was obnoxious. I threw a temper tantrum about dinner being in the bed again and decided that enough was enough. I went downstairs. All was calm when I arrived. It seemed that nobody noticed my arrival, but I was wrong.
"I wonder why the girls act up?" Hawkeye mused sarcastically once as he sat in the living room, reading a newspaper.
"Independence is usually from the mothers," Dad added. He took a drink from a beer.
"I heard that stubbornness is too."
"Did you know that pride comes with the territory?"
"What? How did we manage to own Independence? I thought Harry was landlord."
I was annoyed, to say the least. "I get it. I get it. Back to bed. The girls are fine."
Despite my illegal trips out of bed, Hawkeye was in a good mood. Cochran was leaving him alone for the moment. The fire was off of his back and the spies grew bored with him. He was able to do whatever he wanted without someone quoting some regulation, moral clause or utter nonsense. We still received some people at the door. Many of them feared Cochran and his cronies and preferred to stay with us.
Mrs. Pettigrew visited to help with the girls for a while too. She also assisted with the visitors at the door. She was annoyed with most of them, to say the least, and sent most of them on their way so that I would not be bothered with trivial matters. However, the one theme she picked up on was the way Crabapple Cove always had to travel for their medical needs. This is why they preferred to see us than to drive or take the bus to Portland, Bathe or Searsport.
I was sitting in the living room, sipping some tea. It was unusual. This pregnancy didn't allow me to drink coffee so easily and it irritated me. The tea was hardly waking me up. The cushions bouncing from Mrs. Pettigrew's seating woke me up and splashed some tea in my lap.
"Haven't you thought about what you are going to do with your life?" she asked me.
"I thought I was living the dream," I replied. I put my cup down.
"Yes, well, being a housewife has its perks," Mrs. Pettigrew said carefully, "but don't you ever want to go back to nursing? I see it is your passion."
"I need peace," I reassured her. "This is the best I am going to get. I don't mind being with my children and having a few people at the door. I will not complain."
There was something in Mrs. Pettigrew's eyes that alarmed me. A quarrel was in there. She had some idea and believed that it was better than what I had right now. She wished to tell me what it is, but decided it was best to hold her tongue. There will be another, better time.
But in that moment, I noted that she did not understand me as much as I thought she did. I found my own self-worth and respect in this town at a high cost. Now, she is questioning what I am doing? I could not stand for it. I fought for what I have now. I begged, bartered and stole in order to be a civilian, marry the love of my life and be with my children. I didn't want to exchange it for anything.
I kept my temper though. I didn't want to start an argument. Mrs. Pettigrew did not need me to scream about West Germany, Flagg and Korea. This was something I can save for a later discussion.
"Someday, Jeanie, you will see that being at home is peaceful, but you will miss something in that old life of yours," Mrs. Pettigrew only told me. "I regret everyday that I did not go back to nursing. It gave me a sense of purpose. Now, I am growing older and taking care of so many people, you included. At least this gives me something to do. Most days, I do not have that."
I didn't contradict her. I smiled and changed the topic. I told her about Radar and his mother coming to Maine. I chatted about how excited I was to see them both and not have any fights about who was the better company clerk.
Mrs. Pettigrew listened cautiously. "I see. Well, I hope the lad has learned his lesson. I will make sure there are more chores for him if he is fresh."
We both laughed. It eased us into talks about what has been happening lately, the new twins and more. Mrs. Pettigrew mostly told me about Larry. He graduated from high school and did not know what to do with his life. He thought about classical music studies, but there wasn't any money. His job at the grocer was supposed to help with the expenses.
"I cannot bear it," Mrs. Pettigrew admitted to me. "He is all that I have, Jeanie. He goes to school outside of Maine, I will not see him again. I want him to fly, but this will be the end."
"It will not," I reassure her. I held her hand. "We will be here. I won't leave Crabapple Cove. You can't make me."
And that was all we had: each other. I knew that I will one day face my children leaving me. But just as long as I taught them well and they talked with me once in a while, I will be content. It was a hard life, to be a mother. Worse, it was one who was scared to be useless.
~00~
December 22 came quickly. Luckily, there was no ice storm that day and Hawkeye had an easy time picking up Radar and Mrs. O'Reilly. By the time he returned though, it was snowing. Wisps of white material covered the sand and twirled around. Gritty footsteps stomped to the front porch and the cold breeze whistled into the house.
"Hi, honey, I'm home!" Hawkeye called from the doorway.
I was in the kitchen, peeling potatoes for dinner. I didn't have time to call back. Quickly, Hawkeye was in the kitchens, bags in his hands and cold lips on mine. I dropped the potato peeler with a giggled gasp. I kissed him back a million times, mumbling about the dozens of things we'd do in the bedroom when we were free of children and chores. When we finished with our silly ministrations, we both were startled to see Mrs. O'Reilly in the doorway.
She was blocking Radar from seeing us. Even at twenty-three, Radar was still being treated like a child. He jumped up and down, yelling at his mother to let up, all the while Shannon and Annabeth were tumbling forth behind him. Mrs. O'Reilly only moved when Hawkeye separated from me and we were at least three feet apart.
"Radar, it's so nice to see you," I said kindly. I picked up the kitchen instrument from the floor and tossed it in the sink.
"It's Walter now," he corrected me weakly.
I raised an eyebrow. "Walter, ok. Well, it's still nice to see you again."
"Walter has been busy," Mrs. O'Reilly recounted excitedly. "He is a police officer now."
"Ma!" Radar yelled, embarrassed. "I was going to tell them."
"You have to follow the rules to be a police officer," I pointed out, thinking back to all of the times Radar broke Army protocol to get what we needed. "I am sure Ottumwa is proud to have you."
"We don't live there anymore," Mrs. O'Reilly announced proudly. "We live in St. Louis now."
"Oh, do you see the Potters and Klingers and Father Mulcahy?" I asked inanely.
"Occasionally," Radar admitted. "I see them when I travel around the county."
There was an awkward silence. It was like everything we knew about each other vanished and we were out of things to say. Even when the girls finally squeezed in and tried to make the kitchen somewhat cheery, it was strained. Everything we knew about Radar was gone. Hawkeye and I both knew that he was going to grow up and be a good man someday. However, we did not expect his mother to tail him and talk for him.
Our chance to talk came later. In the meantime, we had to keep the household as chaste as a nunnery. Mrs. O'Reilly did not appreciate the reunion jokes and playtime and butted in when we did not display a Christian attitude towards her and her son. Hawkeye and I played along.
The girls enjoyed playing with Radar and they got quite rowdy. He got down on their level and always encouraged them to pull pranks. It got to a breaking point, where even Hawkeye was losing his patience. When Annabeth and Shannon spilled some coffee on Mrs. O'Reilly, the games were over. Hawkeye had to order them to calm down. He sent them all outside in the back, to run on the beach.
Until dinner, we all took turns watching Radar and the girls, making dinner and talking. To be honest, it was enchanting eying the scene. It was so tranquil. While they were loud and boisterous and got most of our neighbors sticking their heads out, the three spelled out the perfection of innocence. I could not be more pleased with the contrast against Vietnam.
Dinner was an occasion. Radar made sure that Annabeth and Shannon were washed and dressed. Mrs. O'Reilly insisted on saying her meal prayer before proceeding. Even Dad made way and allowed her to be the head. I would have said something, but he winked at me. He was fine with being second best in the house.
Mrs. O'Reilly was no better after our food was consumed and the concluding prayers were finished. "I'll do the dishes," she announced. "Walter, mind the girls."
"Yes, Ma," Radar replied.
This meant keeping them quiet, Radar explained. So, while Dad and Hawkeye relaxed in the living room with a newspaper and a crossword puzzle each, Radar grew bored. All he did was play with their dollhouse and reorganize the contents. He didn't even get too thrilled when I turned our new television on.
The hour soon grew late. Shannon and Annabeth soon realized that their routine dictated that they had to go to bed. Sullen, they washed and came back to say good night to everyone. Dad opted to read to them while Mrs. O'Reilly said she was ready to go to bed too. Hawkeye, Radar and I remained quiet, daring each other not to talk. If we uttered the wrong word, we will surely be given a tongue lashing by Mrs. O'Reilly.
When Dad returned downstairs from tucking the girls and Mrs. O'Reilly in, he carried three glasses and some of the still's gin in a pitcher. "Outside with all of you," he ordered. "You too, Jeanie. Bundle up."
All three of us had been in the living room, holding our breath. Hearing those words thrilled us. Quickly, we scrambled for our coats. Hawkeye took the illicit goods from Dad. He directed Radar to go to the back porch and to turn the lamp on. I waddled behind the pair.
It was after nine and all was quiet so far. The ocean waves gave us a sense of peace. The warm glow from the lantern above our heads was also comforting. Hawkeye broke out with the gin and passed out full glasses. While previous pregnancies had me off of alcohol or having small sips of red wine, this taste of gin was wonderful. Radar was still hacking it up.
"You still make it this awful?" he asked Hawkeye when he regained his speech.
"Only because mother told me to," he replied, elbowing me. "She always told me this was a good year."
"He prefers it this way," I clarified.
"Geez, you don't change, do you?" Radar rubbed his receding hairline. "It's like we are back in Korea again, doesn't it?"
"No," I quickly corrected. "We're home."
"Yeah, but some things don't change just because you aren't in the Army anymore," Radar pointed out. "Like, you guys are so easy. Your daughters are great. I mean, they're just like you. You're living on."
"Life goes on, Radar," Hawkeye said. "We gotta hold onto some things."
Radar put his drink on the small table to the side. "Like what? Like being husband a wife?"
"Is this about Sandy?" Hawkeye inquired gently as he downed the last of his gin.
"Geez, it's always about her!" Radar stood up, outraged. He paced the small space. "She liked it that I was in the Army. There was easy money. And then, when I wanted to move out of Iowa, she didn't like it."
"What happened to the farm?" Hawkeye poured himself another drink.
"Well, a tornado came through. It killed everything except me and Ma. We hid in the cellar when it came."
"It must have been terrifying."
"Oh, my God." I put my hand to my mouth. It sounded so frightening!
Hawkeye was equally upset. "You couldn't recover anything, could you?"
This didn't get to Radar as much as it did to us. "Well, no. We picked up everything we had and moved to St. Louis. Mom's Aunt Pammie lives there. They've not happy with each other. It gave me the chance to do what I wanted."
"What about Sandy?" I asked. "Didn't she come with you?"
"Not initially," Radar confirmed, "but she went and lived with Ma for a bit. Ma didn't like Sandy living with me in my apartment."
Radar went on with his story. He finished his training and was officially an officer of the law. But he didn't have the job yet and he waited for word if he was accepted into the St. Louis department. Then, he went to visit Sandy one day. They were supposed to have lunch together with his mother. He found her getting dressed. She told him to wait in the kitchen while she put on a nicer dress in her bedroom.
"And that was where I found them," Radar ended.
"Found what?" I was almost afraid to hear the answer.
"Letters," Radar told us. "Sandy had been writing to someone else. Another man, I mean. He's in the Navy."
"That scheming bitch," I swore. "She used you."
"And you married her anyway," Hawkeye added.
"I did," Radar said proudly. "I loved her and she loved me. Or, at least I thought we did. She told me it was nothing and ran away and came back to marry me. We got married. We went to bed and…well, umm…"
"Oh, Radar." Hawkeye wrapped his arm around him.
"She ran away again," Radar told him. "We went to Iowa. I wanted to visit some friends. She went to see her Ma and never came back. Nobody said they had never seen her."
Hawkeye released him. "Is she going to divorce you?"
"I guess so." The former company clerk shuffled his feet on the porch boards and looked down. "It was pretty stupid of me, wasn't it?"
Hawkeye and I tried reassuring him that it wasn't. We both felt that it was wrong to go ahead with the marriage and I knew it. But Radar didn't need to hear that. He had done the right thing for a girl and was still wronged. It was horrible and another aspect of war I didn't want to admit.
"Ma doesn't like to talk about Korea," Radar continued. "She doesn't like that I know things before people know about them. She doesn't like people calling me Radar anymore either. Every time someone does, she has to say something. She forces me to say I'm Walter." He sighed. "Maybe she's wrong? I don't know. I mean, she told me Sandy was a nice girl. She wanted me to marry her."
Hawkeye was suddenly interested. "Was she some girl from Ottumwa?"
"Yeah," Radar confirmed, "and she was unmarried. Her Ma wanted her out of the house and my Ma liked her enough."
"Scheming mothers are always the worst," I told them both. "This is from personal experience."
"You need to live your own life, Radar," Hawkeye added. "You cannot do everything your mother says anymore."
Radar scratched his head. "Why? Do you listen to your Dad?"
"Sometimes," Hawkeye admitted, "but not as much as I should."
"Is that because you're more grown?"
"We all have our own ideas of life, Radar. They can come from our parents. They can come from our own lives and experiences. You just have to remember that you can still love your parents and not like what they say and do."
"Say, that sounds like something Colonel Blake would have said."
"Because he has said it," I told him. "He told me that many times."
"Gee, I miss him. Colonel Blake, I mean."
"I know, Radar. I know. I do too." I took another drink.
For a while, it was quiet. The stars glistened overhead like headlights. The ocean continued to crash onto the shore. And there we were, three war veterans, saddened by recent events. I never felt so sorry for Radar before. Three years away from the war and he was being used again.
It was enough to make me cry. But I knew that Radar was strong. Hawkeye's words will hopefully get through to him. He always listened to Hawkeye, even when they were fighting.
"Hawkeye, can I ask you one more thing?" Radar said out of the blue.
"What?" Hawkeye downed Radar's drink and poured himself another.
"Can we try to get your Dad together with my Ma?" he asked. "I think they get along swell."
