The Common Thread
Chapter Two
Josephine Bigelow slammed the door to her black Studebaker and the mirror fell off.
She sighed, kicking the car. As far as the former lieutenant saw it, this day couldn't get any worse. She'd started her day off by falling out of bed, pulling the phone down with her.
That reminded her, she still had to call the telephone company to see how early they could be to her place to fix it.
Shaking her head, Josephine took a good look at Campbell High School. It looked like it came straight out of Leave it to Beaver.
"I'm going to go over like a lead balloon," muttered Josephine as she walked up the steps to the wooden double doors. She opened them with a grunt and wiped her feet on the rug that seemed to follow her to every high school she visited. What was the big deal, Josephine wondered, about a scratchy black piece of carpet with rubber on the back? Couldn't they have at least changed the color? Orange, maybe. Or blue. Or...
Red.
Not red, Josephine quickly decided. It made her think of blood.
And Hawkeye's robe.
Josephine leaned against the cold brick wall. This was not the time to remember her former lover.
Unfortunately, she couldn't stop the memories from invading her mind, which was supposed to be focused on describing the experiences at a Mobile Army Surgical Hospital to a group of horomone-infused seniors.
They'd both had the same stopover in Honolulu due to a windstorm, along with B.J. Hunnicutt, Mickey Baker, Julianne Lacey, Sherman Potter, Zelmo Zale, and Kellye Nakahara. Since Kellye lived in Hawaii, she invited the seven to stay at her house for the storm's duration.
Over a few vodkas, they'd talked...and danced...and danced more...
And then it was a blank.
Something must have happened, because Josephine and Hawkeye went back to Crabapple Cove together.
For a grand total of four and three-fourths months, they'd been like newlyweds. Hawkeye had proposed, she'd accepted, and they were living a life straight out of a Harlequin romance novel.
Then (and there's always a then), the other shoe dropped.
Hawkeye had been invited to the annual VFW Thanksgiving banquet in Augusta and he went, grudgingly. When asked to make a short speech, he stood up, cleared his throat, and began.
"I'm not a veteran. I was in Korea because I was forced to be. I was in charge of patching up wounded soldiers, most of which were ripped up beyond identification. If you want a hero to worship, go bow to a picture of MacArthur."
With that, he left the building. Josephine bid everyone a quick goodbye and followed him. They rode home in silence and spent a week and a half like that, until Josephine finally decided that she'd had enough. She left Crabapple Cove, but not before leaving Hawkeye a note.
Hawk--
I'm pregnant. I'm due sometime in May. I'm sorry that it had to end like this but it did. We're not right for each other. At least our union produced one good thing--right?
Please, don't be bitter. You'll find someone that's right for you. It just wasn't me. We were a fling. (A good fling, apparently.)
--Josephine
Josephine cursed her poor writing skills and left on the next bus to Chicago. She didn't know what Hawkeye did when he found her letter, but she imagined that he hadn't taken the news that well. She'd known him for long enough to understand that part of his personality.
On May twenty-first, at four thirty P.M., after a shockingly short labor, Josephine delivered her first daughter. She was blond and looked like no one on either the Pierce or Bigelow side, which Josephine took as a sign from the baby that she had nothing to do with the mess that had been created. Hawkeye came on the twenty-fourth and Josephine told him to take their daughter, that his enviornment for raising a child was better than hers.
"Everyone in the town loves you. They'll love her. Your dad will love her."
"So you want me to deprive her of a mother?"
"No. I'll...I'll come and see her sometime...when she's older."
"What am I supposed to tell her? That you're a lamp genie in Arabia?"
"Who says you have to tell her anything?"
"Oh, just the little voice in the back of my head that's telling me that not having a mother isn't the best way to live a childhood."
"And how would you know?"
That had been the wrong thing to say, because Hawkeye stalked off into the hallway and didn't return until noon the next day. While he was gone, Josephine went over the statement in her head. Finally, she realized how what she'd said had been insensitive, cold, and most of all, stupid. Hawkeye hadn't mentioned much about his growing up, but Josephine remembered him saying, in passing, that his mother had died when he was ten.
On the thirtieth, Josephine was released from the hospital. The moment the nurse pushed the wheelchair into an empty corridor, Josephine turned her head to face her.
"This isn't my baby."
"It isn't?"
"No. It's...well, she's technically mine. But see, the man I'm with...she's really his. Please. Take her."
"You don't want her?"
"It's not that simple. Just...take her."
"I don't know if I'm able to do-"
"You are."
And surprisingly, the nurse had. She wheeled Josephine out of the hospital, taken the girl, and hurried back inside, all without being noticed. When Hawkeye came in that afternoon, he'd taken the girl and went back to Maine.
Or at least that was what Josephine thought.
"Miss Bigelow?"
Josephine jumped. "Yes?"
The brown-haired secretary looked curiously at her. "You've been standing there for at least five minutes. May I get you a drink?"
"Alcoholic, if possible."
Surprisingly, the woman laughed. "According to today's schedule you're giving a lecture in half an hour. I don't think coming in half-crocked would be the best idea."
Josephine smiled. "Speaking of lectures, where am I giving mine?"
"Room three hundred. It's on the third floor next to the art room. Just follow the smell of paste."
"Thanks." Josephine grinned. "I don't think I caught your name."
"I'm Louisa Ferris. You know, we're so honored that you're here. It's not often that we get Korean War surgical nurse to speak to our students."
"Well, Mr. Breagan and I were in college together, and I figured it was the least I could do to come and-"
"MISS FERRIS!" came a shrill squak from the business office.
Louisa sighed. "Yes, Mrs. Vermillion?"
"THE TYPEWRITER JUST GOT JAMMED!"
"Coming," Louisa called. She turned back to Josephine. "I'm sorry, but I have to go deal with our resident airhead. Just ask me if you need anything. I'll be here."
"All right." Josephine headed down the hallway with "MATH, SCIENCE, TYPING, STAIRS" handwritten above it on a piece of cardboard. She shook her head as she marvelled at the simplicity of small-town America.
She didn't know what she was doing in Crabapple Cove.
No.
She didn't know what she was doing in Maine.
Pure curiousity had conviced her to come back. She wanted to see if Hawkeye was still the town's second-most-trusted doctor (Daniel Pierce being the first), and to see if her daughter had become someone other than "the poor little girl with no female influences in her life."
A door banged open and a blonde girl stormed out. "I don't believe this!" she cried. "After every damn thing that I did--they turn around and--DAMNIT!" She slammed her fist against a locker. She glared at Josephine. "And if you tell me to quiet down because there are classes going on, I may have to stuff you into one of these." She gave the locker a final slam.
"No, I wasn't going to tell you to do anything." Josephine shifted uncomfortably. "Um...can I do anything for you?"
"You can write a letter to James Mills Hamburton and tell him what a male chauvinist pig he is to only extend his medical scholarship out to males!"
"What?"
"I applied for this scholarship that could have possibly gotten me into Georgetown. I wrote an entire paper on the treatment of heart failures in a war zone."
"That must have been difficult," said Josephine absently, trying to figure out if she'd seen this girl before. She must have--she looked so familiar.
"Not really. My father was a doctor in Korea, so I had a first-rate reference right at home."
Josephine felt a chill run through her body. "Oh?"
The bell rang just then and the hallway became filled with high schoolers. Victoria sighed and looked over her shoulder. "I've gotta go find Phyl and tell her about this recent injustice. Nice shouting at you."
Before Josephine got time to say anything else, Victoria had joined the flood of students.