New York Homecoming
The cargo plane touched down in New York City. There were no windows where the few passengers were seated across from one another. Normally these rugged seats were occupied by crew or important visitors being shuttled to an urgent meeting. It was a far cry from a commercial or private plane. They couldn't glimpse New York City from the air with the tall buildings that seemed to sprout up overnight or view the Statue of Liberty.
Departing the plane, they grabbed their luggage and boarded two taxis to the Waldorf-Astoria. They would spend the first night in a suite owned by Hitch's father and used for visiting business colleagues, while Hitch was welcomed home by his family. The others would join the Hitchcocks the following afternoon and be their guests for the next several days.
A cab dropped Hitch outside his parents' home. He paused for a few moments and stared up at the magnificent mansion in which he had grown up, home to his father's family for several generations. It wasn't as grandiose as the fabled mansions of the gilded age, but it was quite impressive. Somehow his family had, for the most part, avoided the "over-the-top" grandiosity and pomp of the upper class. They were extremely wealthy, they knew it, everyone else knew it and they felt no compunction of having to prove their worth to anyone. Instead, they focused on a vast variety of charitable endeavors and endowments, giving not only of their money, but their time and talent as well. Their reputation as philanthropists was well respected.
Hitch walked up the stairs and rang the doorbell. He had no idea what had become of his housekey after enlisting almost five years earlier. The door was soon answered by the butler who greeted him warmly,
"Welcome home, Mister Mark," he was genuinely glad to see the young man return unharmed from the war.
"Thanks, Saunders, it's good to be back," Mark replied as the butler took his luggage.
"Your parents are in the drawing room. I'll take your things upstairs," Saunders said, and Mark took a deep breath as he walked towards the designated room. Sliding open the pocket doors, he saw his mother practically leap from her chair, walk quickly towards him, and embrace him in a tight hug.
"Oh, my boy, my boy," she repeated softly over and over, and he could hear the tearfulness of her voice.
"Hello mother," he hugged her back. "It's good to be back," he kissed her cheek.
"We are overjoyed to have you back home, son," his father said, and Mark released his mother, prepared for a handshake. The young man was surprised when his father wrapped loving arms around him and held him tightly.
"Thank God you've returned in one piece," his father was overcome with emotion.
"We've been so worried for you," his mother, Ellanora, agreed. "It's like a dream having you back with us."
"Where's Vi?" Mark asked about his sister.
"I believe she's in the kitchen, working on a surprise for your dinner tonight," his mother answered, and the three adults sat down.
"Oh man, I thought I was done with bad food," Mark joked.
"She's improved quite a bit," his father commented. "She's been in charge of our victory garden and it's amazing what all she's been able to grow."
"She cans a lot of the vegetables and makes jams and jellies as well," his mother added.
"Violet?" Hitch was disbelieving.
"She knitted over 200 socks as part of the war effort as well," his father chimed in. "How about a drink, Mark?"
"Thank you, sir," Hitch replied, "Whiskey, neat." He immediately wondered why he answered thus. Was he trying to goad his father into making a comment that Mark was too young for such a drink? Or was he trying to show his father he was now a man. Knock it off, he said to himself. He didn't have anything to prove, and he was not going to provoke a fight. His father took it all in stride, poured three whiskeys and handed them round.
"To having you home, again," his father raised his glass, his mother joined in, and the three sipped the smooth, amber liquid.
"Any problems with the flight?" his father asked. "I'm sorry I couldn't arrange a passenger plane."
"None at all," Mark assured him. "It was kind of bittersweet seeing all the vehicles in the cargo bay. I swear I saw a jeep that reminded me of Bertha—that's what I called the jeep I drove."
"We know," his father replied. "Your friend Tully called his, Olive."
"That's right," Mark sipped his drink.
"But don't all jeeps look alike?" his mother asked.
"A driver knows his jeep," Hitch assured her.
"Did your teammates get settled in the apartment?" she inquired.
"Yes, they're very grateful for your hospitality," Mark informed her.
"We're looking forward to meeting them tomorrow night," his father was sincere. "I'm very thankful for their part in keeping you alive and reasonably unhurt." Mark grinned sheepishly then grew solemn.
"It's no exaggeration that I wouldn't be here now without them," he stated and then shared, "We stayed with Isla at Granny Mac's house in Scotland for a week. Tully married an army nurse in the parlor. Her name is Mary Ellen and I invited her to be our guest as well. I hope that was okay."
"Of course, darling. Your friends are always welcome. How exciting for Tully and his bride. I'm sure Isla had a part in everything," his mother spoke.
"As always," Hitch grinned again. "We got to see her dance the lead in La Sylphide. She was absolutely amazing and had the audience in the palm of her hand."
"It's too bad she can't be here for the homecoming celebration tomorrow night," his mother said and Mark could have sworn he saw a quick smile.
"So, how big and fancy is this shindig tomorrow?" Hitch asked.
"A number of good friends, the Mackenzie's of course, maybe 35-40 people plus your team. Private dinner followed by cocktails and dancing," his mother continued.
"No business acquaintances," his father assured him, "just people we thought you'd like to see and who have been so supportive to us in our concern for your safety." Mark nodded.
"So, Father, aren't you going to comment?" Mark asked with a twinkle in his eye.
"About what?" his father was confused.
"I thought you'd have something to say about my uniform," Mark suggested.
"No," his father said seriously. "I said far too much when you enlisted and made an ass of myself trying to push my wishes on you and the army. I am so very proud of you and what you did during your service, and it doesn't matter to me if you are a private or a lieutenant," he paused a took a drink. "Although I have to admit I'm glad to see you finally recognized your own worth and accepted the commission."
"Yeah, well, it was a package deal in the last few days of active duty," Mark partially explained. "Troy and Moffitt are now Captains and Tully is a First Sergeant."
"How wonderful!" his mother exclaimed.
"And well-deserved, I'm sure," his father agreed.
"Would it be alright if I excused myself and got cleaned up a bit," Mark stood and turned to leave the room when he was almost knocked over by two arms wrapping themselves around his torso.
"Oh, Mark!" his sister said with a choke in her voice. "I can't believe you're home," she hugged him tightly and he did the same. They kissed each other on both cheeks, and he held her at arm's length.
"Look at you!" he exclaimed. "When I left you were still a little girl and in my absence you've become a young woman. What are you now? Twenty?"
"I'm seventeen and you know it," she said, unable to keep her eyes off the older brother she adored. Like Mark, she was tall, slim, blond-haired, and blue-eyed. After a few minutes of conversation, Mark went to his room.
It was like stepping back in time with the remnants of his childhood on display. He removed his uniform and took a long, hot, shower, letting the water flow over his body for much longer than the usual two minutes they were allotted in Africa. He toweled off and opened the door to his closet. It was strange to see an assortment of shirts and sweaters instead of khaki. He changed into casual slacks and pulled a blue sweater over a white shirt. They fit a little tighter than before he left, and he supposed he had added some muscle during the last four and a half years. He grabbed his car keys from the dish on the bureau and went for a drive in his beloved 1937 Atalanta Sports Car.
The next day he showed his friends around New York City before taking them to meet his parents. If any of them were nervous about the size of his family home or the contents therein, they didn't mention it. Nora and Matthew Hitchcock made them feel completely welcome and they had time for conversation before dinner. Matthew spoke privately with Troy and Moffitt and expressed his appreciation for the care and support they showed his son. At dinner, they met Isla's family, including the infamous Granny Mac who didn't look like anyone's idea of a grandmother. She was like an older, but shorter, version of Isla, well-groomed and fashionably dressed. They loved her immediately and she hugged Mark a long time before letting go.
The party went smoothly, and the guests were very appreciative of the now veterans, service during the war. Most of them were very friendly and welcoming like the Hitchcocks but occasionally they would run into one or two who fit their idea of "snooty rich." Before the dancing began, Matthew got everyone's attention and announced,
"Nora and I wish to thank everyone for joining us this evening as we welcome back our son, Mark, and his team. We couldn't be any prouder of these fine men and it is an honor to host this gathering in recognition of their accomplishments." Everyone applauded and Matthew called Mark to his side.
"Mark, we wanted to do something special for your homecoming and when we considered an appropriate gift for the occasion, there was only one thing we could agree upon." Mark hung his head in embarrassment. "Father," he whispered but Matthew continued, "If you will come with me outside," he led them to the front steps of the house, and they all gathered around. His parents and Violet stood with him on the bottom step with everyone anxious to see what was happening.
"Close your eyes," his mother instructed and Mark obediently, yet reluctantly obeyed. He heard a familiar roar of an engine, and his eyes flew open as a much-loved jeep, minus the mounted gun, came up the circular drive with Isla at the wheel.
"Bertha!" Hitch exclaimed and rushed to her side. He helped Isla from the seat which took some extra assistance since she was in evening dress.
"Welcome home!" she said, kissing him on the cheek.
"You never cease to amaze me," he said, doing the same.
"We couldn't bring Bertha home, without Olive," Matthew continued, and Tully came bounding down the steps as his jeep came up the drive. "Consider it a wedding gift for you and Mary Ellen." Tully's grin was as wide as Hitch's.
"I don't know what to say," Tully was stunned. "Thank you, so much."
"Okay, who wants a ride?" Hitch shouted and for the next hour, he and Tully shuttled guests around the neighborhood. None of them had ever ridden in a jeep and they were thrilled to have the experience.
The days passed quickly, and Hitch realized he was foolish to worry about his friends and his parents together. They were now all included as part of the family. When the week was over, the group prepared to head to Kentucky and Tully's family. They were going by train and Olive had been loaded onto a flatbed car. They gathered together at the train station for goodbyes and Hitch told his parents he would be back soon. Isla was coming along before returning to England where the Royal Ballet was being formed.
"Thanks for everything," Mark hugged his parents and Violet. "Especially for welcoming my friends so warmly."
"They are not your friends," Nora said, "They are the brothers we couldn't give you." Mark nodded and boarded the train to their next destination.