Note: A different format of writing this time around. I needed this last 'transition' chapter to not be too predictable and dry so I attempted something new. I will be switching back to the way the chapters are normally written in the next chapter, so if you didn't care for it, don't worry!
Chapter 27 Exchanges
Dearest Belle,
To think I may put that as the opening to all my letters still amazes me, to think that you are my dearest Belle and that we will belong to each other so very soon seems like one of those things where I ought to wake up and find it's all been a very vivid dream really soon.
Speaking of dreams I would like to make a reality, I made myself a list. This is something you'll soon know about me, as someone who very often feels as if I haven't accomplished very much in life, a list that can be feasibly completed can be rather comforting. This particular list feels daunting, but I've been running the numbers over and over since I came back from seeing you and I've determined within myself that I will get this done by the time the summer programs are done at the library and my lease is up here. It may be the most daunting list, however, when I get to the last item, to marry you, I will feel the most accomplished that I have in my entire life.
So I put before me, each day, the classifieds and circle anything of interest. A used car, a small one bedroom house for rent on the outskirts of Portland, and use these numbers to determine how much needs to be saved. I try not to be outrageous in my dreams of a house with you in it, but it has made me wonder, what do you think of when you see a wee house in your dreams (for it can only be small for us for a while, my dearest Belle, as I must reiterate. You say you don't mind and so I will believe you)?
It's only been a night and a day (though I imagine I'll not be able to send it until tomorrow evening, since today is Sunday) since I've last seen you, yet every fiber of my being misses you. I began my letters all those months ago with a quote from Burns, and as I am so full of the love I do not understand, and feel so undeserved to gain, I think of another of his poems every time your bonnie face flashes before me (which as I said already, is quite often). So be patient with your foolish fiance while instead of Haggis, I think of the ode to love-
O my Luve's like a red, red rose
That's newly sprung in June;
O my Luve's like the melodie
That's sweetly play'd in tune.
As fair art thou, my bonnie lass,
So deep in luve am I:
And I will luve thee still, my dear,
Till a' the seas gang dry:
Till a' the seas gang dry, my dear,
And the rocks melt wi' the sun:
I will luve thee still, my dear,
While the sands o' life shall run.
And fare thee well, my only Luve
And fare thee well, a while!
And I will come again, my Luve,
Tho' it were ten thousand mile.
And so, my dearest, bonnie Love, though we are separated for a small time, I will endeavor with my whole being to reunite us shortly during our brief separation knowing that my love for you will be ever blooming, constant, and true.
With all my love,
Roger
…
Dear Roger,
If I thought your letters were sweet and wonderful before (which I did, for they were the very food of the stout love that has continued to bubble since I discovered that the love was there), I was truly unprepared for the romantic nature of your latest missive. The only thing that would make it better would be me faithfully recreating your voice in my mind reading the beautiful poetry. What I can imagine is a poor substitute for the real thing and this means that I will require a daily reading of Burns once we are married, so be ready!
If you are foolish in quoting great poets to express your love, I am foolishly happy you did so. I, in turn, think of the poem by Emily Dickinson, which, if interpreted in certain lights could be a lady waiting on a love that might not return to her-I repeat the poem with assurance that our separation will not be long at all. As much as I enjoy my time working at the library, I would trade all the moments tomorrow if it meant I could sooner be with you. I know it will be soon, for I have every confidence in your ability to manage your list, and so—
If you were coming in the Fall,
I'd brush the Summer by
With half a smile, and half a spurn,
As Housewives do, a Fly.
You will come in the fall, or I shall come in the fall, however we determine that things ought to be done, and I will see you then with half a smile and a heart full of love.
As for dreams, I will not be completely sappy and say I only need you, which I was tempted to say at first, but didn't feel as if it would be particularly helpful (though I will assure you yet again that very little is needed as long as I am promised you!).
I have lived in three very different houses in my life. At my father's there were mechanical trinkets in every nook and cranny that were all both strange and wonderful. My bedroom was the only room where I had free reign, though even there you could find gadgets my Papa had put together.
Morris' house was bland, only functional, nothing of beauty to be found. It was the least of the issues there, of course, but it was not to my taste at all. Lastly, I sit with floral curtains and floral wallpaper and a quilt with more colors than Joseph's coat.
When I dream of my 'wee house' as you put it, I dream of light colors with warm and cozy furniture, but I will take anything that means I get to be with you sooner. How about you? Are you fond of bright colors and loud prints, or are you more fond of the subtle? I promise not to judge, at least not too much.
Yours, with love,
Belle
…
My Dearest Belle,
You asked me what my preferences are for interior design and you have no reason to worry that I will bring in the modern or the loud. I've never been able to put down enough roots or afford enough to make a place look as I please, but I've always had an enjoyment for things of days gone by. I do not know if we will be able to exactly have the place the way we want at first, but I begin to have hopes that perhaps it could somehow become reality.
The main lawyer at the firm I work is an older man who I've come to respect, for he has a bit more integrity than some lawyers and attorneys I've met here. He has given me a few more responsibilities, and I've begun helping to draft the occasional document as well as all the organization I was doing before. There is no monetary benefit to this at present, but I hope it will lead to future advancement. There is talk of a bill that has been put through the congress already and will get signed into law very soon. This bill would pay for me to be educated and though I've worked here for just a little under a month, the thought that I could, in a few years, be making enough money for us to be more than comfortable despite my disability has given me much hope.
I want to give you everything, Belle. I have a confession to make. When I received your first letter, and then the early subsequent ones, I imagined you as a bit of a princess. At first (though this I'm loath to admit this above all) I thought you might be a conceited one, writing to a lonely soldier so that you might feel better on the home front, that you did your perceived duty and then went back to your tea times and community picnics as soon as the last line was written and sent off. As I got to know you through your letters, I came to realize that your heart was much kinder and more generous than I gave it credit, though I forever imagined you as a princess, though perhaps one with a kind heart for all her subjects. So, you can imagine my dilemma when falling in love with said princess and my desire to give you everything your heart desires.
I long to see you, my dearest princess.
I love you,
Roger
…
Dearest Roger,
Ah yes, a princess indeed. And I'm sure I secured that image when I tripped over my own feet and fell from the ladder and right on top of you, correct? I hope you aren't too disappointed in a few of my less than royal inclinations, I shall, however, be your messy, clumsy princess if you think you might be able to put up with me.
I am glad to hear that our government is doing something for the veterans. After all you and your fellow soldiers have done for us, you deserve this, and I am thankful you will receive such an opportunity for education. Although, I will assure you that I've learned that money isn't everything when it comes to happiness and though I feel like I've said it a thousand times, I'll repeat that I require very little at all, despite your insistence that I'm some sort of princess.
I like your ideas for furnishing a home, Mrs. Mildred has a few items of that nature that are more to my liking, there is a little china tea set that I quite like, and if I didn't have to fish out cat hair before pouring my tea it would be pretty much perfect! Mrs. Mildred enjoys drinking tea in the late afternoons when I get off work, and has been very sweet to wait on me to come back before taking her tea (which solidifies for me that she is quite lonely). She asks me so many questions, and many about you and I am to insert here on her request that she says hello, but also that I've been distracted here lately and she thinks it might be your doing. She is right, of course.
I saw David today while he was in town with a group of friends. He sends his congratulations, seemed to think our getting married was an obvious thing, and seemed to be in good spirits. I still worry over him daily, but he assured me he was fine. He is so mature for his age, much more mature than a boy of his age ought to be and my heart breaks for him. I am just glad he seems to have friends and that so far he is able to withstand his father.
I do not want to end this on a melancholy note, so I add here that Mrs. Taylor has decided to teach me to sew so that I can begin having a few things to bring with me when I get married, as she seems to think it not proper for someone not to have a collection of some sort. When I told her I only successfully made an apron in Home Economics, she almost had a fit and now I am being taught pleats and tucks and how to add elastic to clothes. I am now determined you'll get a little seamstress when you marry me if nothing else!
Your future little wife, who indeed loves and misses you so much,
Belle
…
My future wife!
What a notion, that if I can scrimp and save and find the things needed, you will be my wife in just a couple of short months!
You will most likely be surprised to know this, but I am able to help you with your sewing, should you need some help in the future. It might be a strange occupation for a man, but when I moved to live with my aunties, I was taught sewing skills as well as some other very useful things that genuinely helped me survive the years leading up to the war. We lived out in the most rural countryside, sheep farmers my aunties were, and as a lad of 15 I was seen as a great boon to my aging aunties and I was put on the roof to mend it, I learned to tend the sheep and help when they hired the shearers and learned to wash and card the wool, and even to spin the wool into thread, though they did more of that, since it was something they could sit and do. I did enjoy watching them, and I will confess that there are days that I miss the feeling of being outside with God's green earth stretched out for miles in the form of rolling hills and long grass. Not that I would be able to do something so physically exerting anymore, nor do I wish to live in Scotland, I don't think, but sometimes as I sit at my wee desk with metal drawers and the window in the room being on the other side of where I am, I miss it, but mostly I miss the sweet aunties who took me in as a lad and did something of consequence with me. They are all gone now, of course, but I am forever grateful to them for taking me in.
I am glad to hear that wee David is as good as can be expected. I know it's a comfort to him that he has you and the teacher you've made aware of his circumstances to be there for him if he needs it. Sometimes that makes all the difference.
I have made it to the halfway point in my savings for my hypothetical car I hope to buy. I keep looking and circling and hoping that I'll find one cheap but decent. This may be asking too much, as I cannot boast mechanical know-how (when it comes to automobiles) to my list of achievements, nor could I bend down to take a look at the finer workings of a car if I should know anything. However, I have befriended a man at the firm, who works a similar position to mine, who said he has some understanding of cars, and I've asked for him to come along with me on my search when I begin.
Goodnight, sweetheart, I have an early morning and long hours to put in tomorrow, but I am content to carry on with the thought that those hours bring me closer to seeing your face once again.
With love,
Roger
…
Dearest Roger,
My days have now an established rhythm and routine, and I find that it helps the days pass faster that way, and thus, I am quite happy to carry on as well, knowing that each day is one day closer to being with you.
I begin my day with coffee, rising early and enjoying the bit of quiet in the house (for all the cats sleep with Mrs. Mildred!). I walk to the library, which is only a couple of miles away, and work there until the afternoon. Among some of the other programs, I have a children's story time and craft time which are my favorite times of the week. This week I read Sword in the Stone which is all about the enchanted time of knights and castles and magic. Merlyn is in charge of a young boy and turns him into all sorts of animals to teach him lessons about life and the world. Mrs. Smith had a long flowy dress for me to wear and a tall pointy hat, and I wish I had a photograph of me in such a ridiculous ensemble, for your image of me as a princess would have been complete, I think. The children told me what animals they would like to be turned into for a day and then we made paper swords. I love that time with the children, though I have a couple of nephews that can put a damper on such occasions. This time they snuck to the back of the library and upturned an entire row of books I would later have to set right while Cathy perused the front and I was helping a few children finish their crafts and Mrs. Smith was stamping books in the front. I have no proof to say it was my troublesome nephews, but I am almost certain it was them, by the way they smiled and laughed on their way out.
On Tuesdays and Thursdays, I volunteer at the Red Cross, just as I used to so many months ago. Leroy said the place had gone to pieces while I was away, and though I know he was only being nice, it was quite pleasant to know that I was missed.
When I get back to Mrs. Mildred's for the evening, there's always tea and pleasant conversation to be had. I make something small to eat, shoo away more cats than I would like from the counters, and in the evenings I read or write to you and then daydream of the future I look forward to spending with you.
Thank you so much for that small glimpse into your younger life. I have now conjured a picture in my mind of you surrounded by sheep on beautiful Scottish hills, what a pleasant thought! I wish I could have met your aunts, they sound like they were wonderful women. Tell me more as you feel comfortable, as I love learning more about you.
With all my love,
Belle
…
The night Roger received that letter, he had begun to smile as he read it, thankful that his wee princess was back to doing things she enjoyed, despite a few hiccups from cats and nephews. Things were finally beginning to feel right in his life. A steady job, a future that would include Belle, and ideas as far as what he could do with his life to provide a comfortable living for a future family.
He was starting to feel better about his life-about himself. Unfortunately, he received her letter the day before Independence Day.
As soon as it began to get dark the next day, Booms were heard from wherever they were popping off the firecrackers to celebrate. He had continued to have dreams (or nightmares, as the case was) of the explosion. Of Cassidy's face, reliving the terror of the moment. To be awake and relive such scenes every time a firecracker exploded had him sweating, balled up in a corner and trying to cover his ears. He jumped each time, his heart pounded each time, and when he tried to get up to chastise himself and make himself a glass of water making himself be rational and calm down, he jumped at the sudden noise before grasping hold of the particular bit of wall as he normally would and stumbled to the floor, twisting his good leg. It was thankfully not a bad fall, and only hurt for a few hours that night, but each painful throb of his leg reminded him of the absence of the other. Each boom in the night sky reminded him that there was something that had been taken away from him that he would never get back. This was what he would be offering Belle? She didn't know, not really, that she was marrying a broken man. Would she come to regret it? He closed his eyes and tried to ignore his thoughts, tried to ignore the loud explosions, tried to ignore everything but the threads of hope that seemed to unravel in the span of a few hours.
Author's Note:
History Stuff: I did a lot of research into median income (which made more sense once I found the census reports that did not include farmers. There's also things like where Roger is working. For example, average rent in 1944 in a southern state was $15 whereas Maine was almost double that ($27). This means that the pay in those states probably reflected that. I kept Roger's income in the 'median' levels, and I'm just hoping for the best as far as accuracy. I tried to do more specific research, but wasn't coming up with the information I was searching for. The GI Bill has now come into play! It was originally called the Servicemen Readjustment Act of 1944, and much of the things we associate with it (education and housing) were not really put into motion until the 1950s (which makes sense since it was late 1945, early 1946 before the bulk of the soldiers were coming back). I read somewhere that the bill was adjusted later to include education, but while reading the actual bill I couldn't find when and where it was adjusted. So-I just went with it being in there in 1944. I am researching what it took to take the bar exam, the education needed and where he would have gotten it. I ask forgiveness, as always, if I get something out of place. Story Stuff: Fluff and fluff until-BAM! more angst! My apologies, but I imagined he would have a hard time during his first July 4th. I can't remember what all of Roger's backstory I included already, and what, more specifically he's shared with Belle. I tried to scan all the older chapters to make sure I didn't create any plot holes (sometimes I edit certain things from a first draft, imagine it in my mind and think I've typed it when I haven't, etc), but please let me know if you see something I did not! Poetry: A Red, Red Rose is of course from Robert Burns :) If You Were Coming in the Fall is a poem by Emily Dickinson. It's very pretty, and can be interpreted, as Belle states, as a poem of unrequited love, but I felt the first bit fit quite well here. The Sword in the Stone was published in 1939 and written by a man (T.H. Write) who did not agree with WW2. I am not super keen on delving into his politics, and hopefully Roger doesn't get offended either. I just liked the thought of magic, and knights, and people turned into animals as a nod to the show :) The author went on to write a series of books that the story found in Sword in the Stone would get included, called The Once and Future King about King Arthur. Hopefully the letters weren't too sickly sweet or boring. The letters portion of any of the past chapters always takes the longest to do as getting things 'just right' seems harder in letter form. Of course I would make things hard on myself and do a chapter with JUST letters, lol. I would love to know what you think! Thank you so much for reading!
