The phone is ringing in the middle of the night, Rilla thinks hazily as it rings her out of her dreams. Ken is not beside her, in the bed, but his spot is still warm. She doesn't bother pulling on her robe as the phone stops ringing. Library, she thinks as she hears his voice. She decides to go pee, and in one swift moment, safeguards herself to remember all the times they sought comfort from wartime nightmares through touch.
He looks at her, ashen and grey, that old familiar haunted look in his eyes that she hadn't seen in a long time.
She knew what this phone call said without even words. She cradles him, pulling his head to rest on her chest.
Canada was at War with Germany.
It's not a shock, they had expected this since the news broke about Poland, but still, it hit a tonne of bricks in their system. Memories of brothers who went, the ones who never came home and never were quite the same flooded to the forefront of her mind.
"Do you have to fix the magazine?" Rilla asks unsure what to say, or if should she say anything at all.
"It can wait until tomorrow," Ken says shaking his head. "Someone from the Globe and Mail got the memo, it's been being passed around to the papers and magazines."
"Maybe it won't last long?" Rilla tries to reassure them both. They both know that most likely isn't true.
"Ollie is sixteen in a few months," Ken says sighing. "Two years…god thank you for making us wait."
"Jimmy though," Rilla frowns.
"He's a copper, he'll be fine, he can be exempt by job alone if he wants to. This was never supposed to happen again Rilla, our children were never supposed to know War as we did." Ken says like a broken child.
"Jem," Rilla frowns. Walter Jr—Walt was as boneheaded as her brother, his father. He would off without a care for his parents.
The shock is radiating off their bodies, making them grapple for any sort of comfort. Rilla finds herself staring at her husband but only seeing the younger version of him like a ghost. Long ago that night in August when the war ruined her first dance.
Fingers entwine, held up just to the side of their faces, as if they are both trying to decide if these ghosts are real or not to the other person.
"Green dress, pink garland flowers," he says. "You were so beautiful, so young but beautiful, I wanted to kiss you so much that night but I couldn't…" he breathes out.
"You can kiss me now," Rilla reminds him.
So he does, he does more than kiss her. He claims every part of her body beyond her lips for his own. It's desperation, it's want to feel something and it makes her feel something beyond the gut-wrenching knowledge that their world, their children's world would change.
They cling to each other as the bed creaks and their bodies refuse to part from one another. They come together, for what is an uncountable time since they've been married, gasping, sighing in all the right moments. Their entwined hand never unlocks above her head.
Visions of trains and goodbyes, no tears, never tears, but there was teasing. Now tears are mixing into their kisses, wet and salty. Just the same the teasing was drawing out the delicate enthralling, intoxicating need from her.
"My heart is yours," he whispers. "It's always been yours since that night, even when I tried to deny it." He whispers, holding himself slightly above her. When he does fall off to the side he still pulls her close, not caring about the fluids leaking from her body, as his leg sneaks between hers.
Neither of them truly sleep, how can one sleep?
War.
Another War to live through, and this time they weren't young enough, they weren't naive to the world to believe it is over within months of its beginning. A feeling an unknowing settle in their stomach, how long? Two years, another four years, could it go beyond the great war?
Cigarettes and smoke loiter on the back porch. Where did they even come from, Rilla thinks to herself as she fills the kettle.
Mrs. Clarke see's her two employers, upon entering the Kitchen from her room. The radio told her all she needed to know.
Canada had declared War.
She remembers them young and nearly married, war is gone and over with but still fresh enough to impact their lives. The drinking and nightmares, it was like the ages years but not at the same time. War still haunts them, but now more than ever.
The phone is ringing off the hook, so much so that Rilla gives up on her earrings. Kens business partners, and other papers and of course family and friends. The children were still sent off to play outside with friends; neighbours dropped by to talk about it and which boys would be heading as soon as they could. Rilla tried to entertain none of it.
She picked up the ringing phone once more. Already having a headache.
"My god, does your phone ever stop being busy?" She hears Jem's voice through the line.
"Not today no," Rilla tells him sitting down. "How are you doing?"
"That was my question for you," Jem says instead of answering her.
"It's not so much of a shock given the past year, but it hit a lot harder at 3 am than I thought it would."
"You found out at 3 am?" Jem asks and Rilla can see his brow wrinkle
"Someone called Ken, being in the business of news," Rilla says simply into the phone.
"Of course," Jem agrees with him.
"Though again how are you? I mean you have children old enough for this shit?"
"Ceci is, but Walt is still only seventeen in the new year. But she's already talking about joining the nurse's corp once her first year is complete." Jem says sighing. "Girls were supposed to be safe from this shit Rilla and yet my baby is racing off like she's a man."
Rilla sighs. "Di is lucky with Beau, being young as he is at fourteen."
"No, they'll just have him in cadets and training for fun," Jem says bitterly. "Jimmy though…I suppose he and the lady of his will get married sooner now?"
"Jimmy a constable which is still needed in Toronto, and if you think Ken and I are against war. He opposes it more than even we do. He will refuse at all costs." Rilla tells him sternly not wanting to even consider such a thing for them.
"Turned him into a pacifist have you like you?" Jem chuckles slightly, despite his voice being understanding.
"I never needed to, his actual father did that for me," Rilla said through her teeth. "And I am not a pacifist."
"You oppose war and spent half of your life trying to help men deal with the aftermath of it," Jem says and she can hear him roll his eyes. "You're a pacifist, and nothing is wrong with that."
"I just don't like my family being torn apart by such things," Rilla counters.
"Same thing, I'll let you, I'm going try Shirley in a few. I'm sure he'll have something interesting to say about this." Jem tells her with a sigh. "Have you heard from him yet?"
"Not not yet," She says shaking his head. "If he does I'll let him know you are meaning to call." And with that, they both hang up the phone and Rilla sighs. She goes back and sits out at the poolside. Kids playing in the neighbourhood, as parents most likely grappled with the news. She doesn't get a phone call from Shirley though, instead, he shows up as she sitting on the patio still in shock. She looks at him for a long moment; before she realizes.
"Don't say it, it's been said one too many times to us already. Aren't you glad you left Paris when you did? France is going to be destroyed again?"
"Are you though?" Rilla asks him.
"Of course I fucking am! We may miss Paris and that life we had but it was never forever and when we visited Germany the last time before we left."
"Didn't you work in Germany?" Rilla looks at him.
"Sure, I did a few contracts over the years, the last was before we moved. The whole place just felt different and who this Frau Hilter is…he was strange from the start and I didn't like him then, and now I can see why. " Shirley says angrily. Before realizing there might be children around, "Sorry."
"It's fine, Clara isn't around," Rilla says. "Also isn't Frau lady?"
"Maybe I don't know?" Shirley says shrugging. "God let this be over before Jasper comes of age, he is way too sensitive for this shit, more than Walter was. I love him of course, he's amazing, but he can't even throw a ball."
"And we're all too old for it now," Rilla says sighing.
"I'm forty-two," Shirley reminds her, looking down at his hands.
"No….no don't you dare," Rilla shakes her head. "You have a wife and children!"
"Well, don't worry Lillian feels the same way, but I need to do something Rilla. I'm sure they aren't going to send an old man like me anywhere. But I can help, I can do something worthwhile and I plan on it. Ken might be fine sitting back, but he did his time, far more than I did."
Rilla glares at him intently. Not even like the idea that Ken could potentially think the same thing.
"You won't keep Oliver back if he wanted to go would you?" Shirley asks. "He's a smart boy, sensitive, wicked sense of humour when he wants to speak but he's much more than the boy you see him as," Shirley asks her.
"I…" Rilla stammers unsure of what to even say. "Mother watch all three of you go and it killed her Shirley. I saw it….I watched watch you all go and Walter….Walter never came back. I am not that strong."
"You're strong enough to do what you did on vacation," Shirley's eyes narrow.
"Don't you dare compare that, to my son enlisting!" Rilla snaps at him. "How do you even?"
"You would have been much more torn up over a loss if it wasn't expected. Plus Lillian, she has helped Faith bring things from France over the years." Shirley says after. "Not that I care about your choice Rilla if you were that sick…I understand it and don't worry no one else knows from what I know."
"I didn't have much of a choice," she reiterates.
"I know, and as I said I understand and not saying a word about it. I doubt it was an easy decision and one neither of you wanted considering I know how Ken can be fairly conservative in his decisions." Shirley says.
"Mummy!" Rilla hears from the gate of the yard, both she and Shirley look at it and eventually and he gets up to open it as he was closer. It revealed Clara crying with scrapes on her knees and ankles.
"Oh come here," she says rushing for her baby. "Let's get you all cleaned up shall we?" She says looking at her brother who waves her off.
"I'll just go raid your kitchen for those biscuits your housekeeper makes," Shirley tells her simply as Rilla brings Clara to the bathroom.
"Want me to get that?" He calls out as the phone rings.
"Please," Rilla calls out as she struggles to clean out the scrapes on her daughter's knees without her crying daughter fighting her. "Clara, if you don't hold still."
"It hurts!" Clara cries.
"I know, but it needs to be cleaned," Rilla says sighing as Shirley comes by.
"Do you want me to try? Di is on the phone," Shirley says from the bathroom doorway.
Rilla sighs pushing back curls from her face. "Please, Uncle Shirley is gonna clean you up, Mummy needs to answer the phone." She said handing over her child to him.
She watches from the hallway, her brother was always a good father, always patient with the kids around and also tended to be fun chasing them around the yard and swimming with them as well.
"I mean Beau is still too young, and Jack lost a leg in the last one, it just seems so surreal that it's happening all again. Nan has never been more thankful that Deena and Mags are girls, I know she and Jerry tried and wanted a boy but that never happened. But my god, all of the kids are so young to be living through this. Like how does one explain this to them?"
"Di I was there age when the war broke out last time, and well, no one sat down and asked if I was okay, hell you all left me at the dance without looking for me and I ended up at Mary Vances for the night. Then I was taking care of Jimmy at fifteen, and living through a war, they'll be okay just don't hide it from them and if they do ask questions just answer them." Rilla says slightly on edge.
"Sure, but fifteen back then was so much more different than fifteen these days. I mean you weren't even in school," Di contradicts her. "They are like babies these days."
"Di, I was a baby. I was dead set on being more than the baby of the family and finding myself a few beaus and having fun, but I was still a child and I survived it." Rilla massages her temple.
"Who spent most of the war secretly engaged to someone," Di reminds her.
"We were barely that," Rilla growls. "Di, really I don't have time for this if this is what this phone call is going to be. If you want to talk about how horrific this is, and not pretend to ask for my thoughts on this only to ignore them. I will hang up because I have other things to do and a husband who is practically wigging out of this. Hell, we both are because they were never supposed to happen again. We were never supposed to see our boys be faced with war as their fathers have been. Or our daughters to wait at home for their fathers and brothers and maybe do their part now because according to Jem wanting to go as well and might have the ability to do so. As he already knows Ceci wants to go be a nurse if she can when she finishes her first year."
"Rilla," Di says sounding almost shocked.
"I know you had another experience of our war while at school, but I was young and I was told to be brave and I was but I also watched Jem, Walter, and Shirley leave and yes I even watched Ken walk away dressed in khaki when no one even knew he came to see me. I never wanted to see it again. I didn't get to grow up and have a carefree fun time going to parties and you barely cared about that twenty-some years ago, but now because it's your children suddenly aware of what it must have been like for me?"
"I didn't mean it like that," Di exclaims.
"But that's how it came across," Rilla reminds her. "I have to go now, someone is trying to get through and I need to check on the kids."
She hangs up before her sister can say anything else. Shirley looks at her after hearing everything.
"Was it that bad?" Shirley asks cautiously. "I know I was at Queens at the time but I was still home on weekends and summers.
"You were around, and you were there until you weren't," Rilla tells him before turning around to the kitchen and going over to the fridge and grabbing the lemonade and pouring herself a drink and offering him some.
"You know that works better when there's liquor in it," Shirley chuckles and Rilla glares at him, "or not apparently."
"You know how I feel about alcohol," she reminds him.
"We all know how you feel about alcohol, and we all feel like if you just had a drink and relaxed a little you might I don't know relax?" Shirley teases her slightly. "But I get it, it's a thing you don't do or like. I was just teasing, I would never push you to drink."
"I know and thank you for that," Rilla says sighing as Clara comes running back towards them, clearly holding something in her hand. "Mummy look what Jasper caught me!" she says as the other kids come through the back gate, covered in various layers of dirt and grime. Elodie was the only one who seemed vaguely clean looks at her aunt, with a giant I am sorry look on her face.
"They were gonna drown him, can we keep him?" Clara asks him.
"Not it!" Shirley exclaims, beginning to herd his children to the car.
"Don't you dare!" Rilla calls after him, and she just looks at the half-drowned kitten and sighs.
"Can we give him a bath Mommy?" Clara asks hopefully, and Rilla shakes her head wondering just how her children have managed to do this to her.