Chapter Thirteen

Dear Harm,

In the summer of 1941, my life changed . . . and I didn't want it too. I was moving from a city that held culture, and wonder. When I came home from boarding school, I always looked forward to hearing the philharmonic orchestra play during the fourth of July picnic and the poetry readings at the local college. This would the stolen summer.

Francis and I had made plans to go to the museums and take long picnics. When he found out I was to spend the summer in Belleville, he promised to come and visit me. After all, I was the love of his life.

Getting off the train from boarding school, I was greeted by my mother. She was a lovely woman. She had dark brown hair and light green eyes. She said I would be spending a couple of days at home, but then would have to go and stay with Aunt Margaret in Belleville. Who could love a place like Belleville? The town was small and dusty. Everyone knew each other, and it had the unmistakable smell of freshly cut lumber and farm. Very unappealing.

Francis and I spent the two days that I had in Philadelphia whispering sweet nothings to each other and promising each other eternity. Harm, he even gave me his lavaliere from his honor society from Harvard. Francis knew about Father's drinking problem and promised that he would come out whenever he could find the time. I held on to him for dear life until my mother put me in the car to make the dreaded trip to Belleville.

A week after being out on the farm, I hadn't received any letters from Francis. He promised that he would write everyday, so everyday I would greet the postmaster, and he would look at me with sad eyes and tell me that there were no letters from the great love of my life. Everyday I was heartbroken.

The first day Aunt Margaret made me help with the chores, I met your grandfather. He teased me about the overalls. I couldn't take it, so I took an egg and threw it at him. I hit him square in the back of his head and told him he could take his insults and shove it where the sun don't shine. I remember whipping around and my braid swinging from side to side as I marched back inside of the house. I could hear the other farm hands teasing him about how he got bested by a girl, and a city girl none the less. I had triumphed.

I had almost reached the top of the steps when I felt someone pull me down and start tickling me.

"That will teach you to mess with me!" Your grandfather was screaming at the top of his lungs.

"Look what you did, you broke most of the eggs in the breakfast basket!" I cried.

He looked down at the broken eggs and jumped in his truck and told me to stall my aunt. He rode out to his farm and took eggs from their chickens to replace the eggs that had broken. He explained to my aunt that he had left a shovel in the middle of the barn, and I had tripped on it. She scolded him gently and he had to help me make breakfast.

Let me tell you Harm, he could make a mean vegetable omelet. It is still the recipe that I use to this day when you are visiting me out on the farm.

Towards the end of breakfast, I looked at the clock and it was time for the post master to come. I rushed out, and your grandfather was quick on my heels. I was informed again that there were no letters from Philadelphia and I just cried and cried. I don't know why, I wasn't one of the sniveling little girls that depended on my boyfriend all of the time, but I just needed to hear from him. He was my lifeline to the city that I left behind. Francis Rabb put a comforting hand on my back and just let me cry. He suggested that we do something to take my mind off of not having any letters, and so I said yes. I wanted to forget all about Francis Windermere.

Francis Rabb saddled up two horses and packed a light lunch. He took me for a ride down to the lake that you took too like a duck in water. He said that the water had magical appeal, that when you look into the water that you could see your future. I believed him, so I went to the edge of the dock and peered into the water. I saw the reflection of me and Francis. I laughed and said that it only was the two of us, and he laughed at me and said, "You may not know it yet, but you and me are the future."

I looked at the man like he was crazy, and turned and grabbed my lunch. How could Francis Rabb think that I would be with someone who ran a farm for a living? Besides, I was practically engaged to Francis Windermere. Francis hadn't written because something must have happened, right?

I love you.

Grams

Harm put down the letter down and he realized that Francis Rabb had been his grandfather. Then what happened to Francis Windermere, why did Grams get married to Peter instead?

He trotted down the stairs and went for a ride out to the lake. He remembered the summers that he would bring the horses out here and he would dip his feet in the cold water of the lake to cool off. He went down to the dock and peered into the water and saw him and Mac smiling at each other. Harm laughed at himself for the hallucination. Still there was a nagging thought in the back of his head as the hallucination faded into the ripples of the water. What if Francis Rabb had been right? Maybe he and Mac had a future after all.

Turning around on that warm summer day, he saw his Sarah walking up with a picnic basket in hand. He ran up to her and swept her up in a huge hug.

AN – I brought Mac back out a little earlier than I anticipated, for some reason I had the feeling that I needed to build on their friendship. She will be around for a chapter or so.

Upcoming Previews:

"I take it you missed me Flyboy." Mac said smiling.

"I thought you couldn't sneak away." He said still holding on to her.

She took off running, calling behind her she shouted, "You have to catch me first, and by the way Marines don't beg!"

TBC