"Coffee?" Rilla asks Ken as he finds himself in the kitchen, dark circles under his eyes. "You didn't have to sleep in the office you know that?"
"I couldn't sleep, no point disrupting you at the same time," Ken says shrugging.
"Nightmares again?" Rilla asked handing him the cream.
"The more this gets involved the more I find myself back there," Ken says sighing, head into his hands. "Easier to work a bit and distract myself from it than not? He says standing up straight and going into the freezer of the ice box pulling a spare pack from the back and moving towards the backdoor so the smell wouldn't waft through the house.
'Really it's not even 7 am," Rilla looks at him.
"Rills, please don't," Ken warns her. "Just let it go."
"Fine," She says sighing, hands up in the air as Jimmy comes down pulling up his suspenders. He kisses his chosen mother on the cheek and accepts the coffee from her. "I am going to have a bath," she tells them. "While the children are asleep and can't use up the hot water for a change."
Ken merely nods his head, moving towards kiss her but she turns her head on him not liking the smoke on his breath. So he watches Jimmy, eat up some eggs for himself, Ken shaking his head at the offer.
He watched the young man, more jerky than usual, more preoccupied than usual as he almost dropped the salt. His body language was screaming panic, even if he was adversely quiet.
"Constance is pregnant isn't she?" Ken asks simply, he had felt and probably looked that way with Rilla told him she was told him she behind schedule before Clara was born.
"What?" Jimmy asks sputtering slightly, almost dropping the spatula in the process. "How…No!"
"You're thinking loudly and keep having some sort of conversation in your head," Ken says to him. "The house, upcoming marriage which still has no date, by the way, things went awry and you forget some things in the mix of all the good time, and she's pregnant isn't she."
"She's late but we don't know, she says she doesn't feel pregnant if that makes any sense," Jimmy says sighing still stirring his eggs. "Which isn't much of a shock, we knew we were sloppy about it?"
"Makes loads of sense, they know these things. Might be in denial about it sometimes but they always know deep down," Ken tells him, butting out his cigarette and closing the door.
"We're engaged, and yet I feel like I just I don't know got my hand caught in the cookie jar. Mom is gonna kill me." Jimmy says pouring his eggs on the plate, slightly burnt, but he wasn't that picky about it.
"She won't kill you," Ken says shaking his head. "March you to the courthouse and slap the side of your head, but much too valuable to kill." He teases slightly, before yawning.
"We're both asking for the day off on Friday because her work cannot know. I was going to tell you a lot at dinner…well, minus the potential of a baby." Jimmy tells him before taking a bite of food by the sink. "If her work finds out, they'll let her go without a second thought, but if we can play it off for a while…she can just sort of leave and come back to it?"
"And the birth date?"
"Babies come when they want…it was a bit early? At that point what can they say? Or when she shows we can say the doctor thinks it's twins or something?" Jimmy says after a moment of chewing. "If she even is." He adds on stressing that it could all be nothing.
"If you're this worried it's most likely not," Ken says looking at his watch. "Though I am surprised this hasn't happened sooner."
"We were careful," Jimmy says with a slight glare.
"I'm sure you were, but sometimes that is not enough," Ken reminds him. "Though it also sounds like she knows how it feels to be expecting?"
"It was before we met," Jimmy says after a moment. "She was young, it didn't stick?" Jimmy says awkwardly.
"Rilla lost a baby before Rowena, it was unexpected we didn't even realize she was pregnant at the time," Ken says trying to offer something to comfort him.
"I remember," Jimmy says. "She was in bed for a while and sad."
"We both were, I am sure even in those circumstances Constance grieved her loss," Ken says.
"We never really spoke of it," Jimmy says unsure of how to answer. "I have to get to work though, please don't say anything to Mom. Who knows, maybe it will be a false alarm and we won't have to worry about it?"
"One can only hope," Ken says nodding his head.
The rest of the Saturday is business as usual, the kids shortly after breakfast rush out to activities and friends. Rilla checks in on some of her patients and Ken rereads his son's story for the third time over. A call from Shirley came through as well, someone who had been let go, after many hours of promise and explanations and handing over of his work...with a job within a section of the army he couldn't really talk about.
It's after an early dinner and before their fundraiser that night Ken manages to do what he meant to do. Because someone was already around, the magazine had more emergencies as he tried to train a bunch of new women how to work the presses and ink rollers, cameras, and how to carry boxes properly. Most of his brigade were women and older men, if his navigating the depression had been tough, this almost seemed worse.
"Can I ask you a few questions about this?" Ken said from the doorway of his son's room. Already dressed in the black suit he wore on special occasions.
"You have time for it now?" Ollie says a touch sarcastically. "You had it for weeks, I figured you forgot about it?"
"I didn't forget about it, I'm sorry if you felt that way," Ken begins. "I was allowing it to sink in, and then I read it again today and gathered more thoughts about it," Ken says explaining.
Oliver merely nodded and Ken sat down on the edge of the bed, looking at Oliver who was nervous over something.
"First off, your writing is well done," Ken tells him. Oliver knows how this will go down he's watched his father give feedback all his life when it came to writing. He knows exactly how his father does his thing, he's seen it all his life at the office.
"You can capture characters very well and your ideas are something extraordinary in themselves." Ken goes on. "You have a knack for words that even I couldn't manage."
"So what's the problem?" Oliver asked wanting to know what his father had issues with.
"I'm curious about your ideologies and about how you view societies," Ken said simply. "I think it would help me understand you as the writer what you are striving for writing this, and just the same what your teacher may say later upon when handing it in."
"You and mom aren't the societal norms," Oliver replied. "You cook more than mom, and mom is technically a doctor in her way."
"Your mother and I never had pertained to gender norms when it came to household tasks," Ken agreed. "But what you have written is much more than families managing in a way that suits their needs. Frankly, I didn't know you knew about such things, these characters that are attracted to the same sex as they are, and are fighting against being persecuted for their abnormalities unaware of why they are?"
"It's not abnormal," Oliver spoke up. "They don't make a choice, it's just who they are."
"Oliver," Ken said slowly. "Are you trying to tell me something? I won't be angry or mad if you need to talk about…I can just listen."
"Because you used to make fun of boys like me, Kenneth Ford the lady killer and charmer. Football enthusiast, who gave up the game when he broke his ankle, who ends up with a son who they call a sissy because I rather play piano than shoot rifles. I'm not normal, I don't feel normal and nothing makes sense." Oliver says bitterly.
"What do you mean not normal?
"I mean, I like girls. They are pretty and make me feel like I want to puke most of the time if one talks to me. But…then I feel the same way toward my classmates sometimes and I try to bury it, but then these boys tell me not to be afraid of it, that they are that way too and suddenly I have friends again, and then they leave or bullied out of a school…or don't want to be friends when they find out my brother is a copper," Oliver manages to wrangle out all his thoughts.
"Well, I think the first part is this is a conversation one needs to have with your mother?" Ken says unsure of how to even tackle such a thing. Rilla was much more cut out for this, Rilla could explain it and make everything right for Ollie so that any oddity of feelings would be corrected. Surely you could fix this sort of thing? That's why he was telling him about this all?"
"The last part…Jimmy, he would never…he would look the other way for you Oliver he's your brother, he was there when you were born."
"I am not talking to her about this," Ollie exclaims. "I'll be like a lab rat or something, I'll be an odd fascination about everything that's wrong with you."
"Nothing is wrong with you, and frankly your mother doesn't care two hoots about who people find attractive, but she may help you understand yourself more and deal with this in a way that is helpful for you." Ken reiterates, heart pounding.
"You think it's wrong though?" Oliver said looking up at his father.
"I never thought much about it," Ken says after a moment. "I was taught that it wasn't natural, but at the same time that person's private life is their own and not mine to comment on, nor should it be the laws, I don't understand it, but that doesn't make it wrong. Your writing, the persecution, the hunting of men who don't conform to society's standard, you have thoughts about it."
"Would you disown me if I was?" Oliver asked him without hesitating.
"I think that I love you enough, that I would be willing to hold my tongue?" Ken answered truthfully. "Mostly for the reasons you stated in your story. Men as such aren't treated well, you would be living a life that would only bring sorrow or harm."
"How can it bring sorrow if you are with the one you love? And girls can feel the same way," Oliver asked him.
"How will this go down with your teacher?" Ken asked him unsure of what to say anymore.
Oliver shrugged. "It's a fairly liberal-minded man, he encouraged us to write about things we feel are unjustified. Plus it's science fiction, anything goes?"
Ken slowly nods his head.
"Kenneth!" You hear Rilla call out across the hall.
"We'll talk more later," Kenneth says to Ollie. "I promise, I know I'm busy lately, but if you ever need me, I will make and find the time."
"I know, I know," Ollie says grumpy.
"I mean it Ollie, and I also mean it when I say I love you for whoever you are or want to be," Ken says quietly.
He walks back down the hall to his bedroom to find his wife standing in front of the mirror.
"Mummy looks so pretty," Clara sighed as she lay across her parent's bed in her underwear. "Daddy isn't mummy pretty?"
"Mummy is very pretty," Ken said agreeing as he took in Rilla and her antique silver gown of silk that was cut on the bias as is wrapped around her curves like molten metal. He wrapped her arm around her waist and kissed her shoulder she was bare from the wide straps that curved into a cowl neck in the front, while the back went down showing off her back in a fashion that any sort of undergarment would be seen. "I can't wait to get you out of this dress," he whispers.
"Little eyes, and ears," Rilla warned him quietly as he chuckled.
"Where are you going?" Clara asked them for the millionth time.
"We are going to the Magazine War Bond Gala," Rilla told her as she swished over to her daughter. "You will be staying at home with Jimmy."
"Will I ever get to go to a party?" Clara pouted
"One day when you are much-much older," Ken told her as he grabbed his bow tie that matched the fabric of Rilla's gowns.
"Can I tie it!" Clara jumped up so she was standing on the bed,
"Do you know how?" Ken asked her.
"I can tie a bow!" She said with a jerk of her head as she climbed over the footboard onto the trunk down to the floor. Ken pulled at his trousers and sat down on the low ottoman that Rilla kept in the room. Clara took the end of the bow tie with much concentration she tried to make a bow out of it. Rilla took pity on her and helped her with the steps, she would fix it later for Ken.
Rowena had wandered in her parent's doorway. 'Oh, mom!" She gushed as she came over to feel the material of her dress. "Can I have a dress like this one day?"
"Never," Ken said automatically, to which Rilla gave him a look. Ken would have her in a catholic nun habit until she was twenty if he had his way.
"Ignore your father," Rilla told her. "I have a feeling styles will have changed by the time you are old enough for such parties, but you are more than welcome to try it one day," Rilla told her as Rowena felt the silkiness of the satin.
"Can I stay up and wait for you to come home?" Clara asks hopefully.
"It's already almost your bedtime," Ken says looking at the clock on the nightstand. "And we are going to be late if we don't leave soon?"
"Will you come to kiss me goodnight when you come home?" Clara asked Ken.
"It will be late, but I will," Ken told her kissing her forehead "But you need to go brush your teeth and get into your nightgown."
Rilla always loved a good party, but that hadn't changed much, she made the rounds around the room. Greeting and kissing the cheeks of people that she knew, she could always feel the warm hand of her husband at the small of her back.
"How are the children?" She was asked countless times.
'Very good, Oliver and Rowena are very much turning into young adults, while Clara is still very much precocious and curious about everything and school is only making it grow even more,' she would tell them, before asking about theirs in return.
'Do you think Paris will hold?' Rilla hears someone ask Ken, and she sees him gulp down a drink in reply.
'If last time is any answer, then I doubt it,' she hears him say.
"Our boy is gone over, is yours in cadets? He must be old enough?" One woman asks, gaining her attention again.
"Heavens no, he's not great at sports and never held a rifle in his life," Rilla tells her with a wave of her hand. Rather flippantly, she didn't care, it was the third time she heard this question.
"So you don't support our boys?" The woman gasps. "They are boys fighting for our freedom?"
"I support our troops of course, but I don't support the war, there is a fair difference between the two," Rilla says through her teeth. "I supported my brothers—one who never returned, my future husband, my war baby who I took in because his mother died and his father was fighting my friends…only to see this happen all over again? You can only be so patriotic about something when you don't see the horrors of what it tore apart in the process."
Rilla eyes narrow and stalks over to Ken who is still talking and steals the glass from his hands and downs it without a warning, sputtering at the taste and burn of alcohol.
"Excuse me for a moment," Ken says taking his wife's arm gently.
"May I ask about the sudden change of heart about alcohol?" He asks her while his curiosity is peaked.
"He's sixteen, and people are already questioning when he'll enlist. Is he doing cadets, is he doing this or that? I hate it, he's sixteen let him worry about homework and a sweetheart before worrying about having to go off to war!" Rilla seethes quietly.
"So you decided to throw back my whiskey?" Ken says lightly amused.
"It felt like a good idea?" Rilla says sighing. "I'll have a glass of champagne on special occasions that make me light-headed. Why not just knock back your glass, you seem to like it enough?"
"Because it's not you," Ken says frowning. "I don't like these things either but we have to appear supportive for the cause no matter how much we don't want to hear about it."
Rilla sighs, the alcohol burning in her stomach still.
"Come sit for a moment, we can go to my office, and hideaway for a while, no one will miss us?" Ken whispers. "Like old times?"
"Isn't that how Clara was conceived?" Rilla looks at him.
"Possibly?" Ken smirks, before sobering. "But for tonight, we just give you something to soak up the alcohol and let you work through that buzz, or I hold your hair back and keep you from getting sick on your dress."
"I'll be fine," Rilla waves him off, "though I did see something interesting at the hospital today. I saw Constance there…I mean it's a women's clinic could be for anything but she was looking rather worried?"
Ken looks down at her. "I'm sure whatever she was there for is none of our business?" Ken reminds her. "Also, you might be right about Ollie and we may want to speak to him together for his own sake?" Ken tells her quietly.
