The Lilac Bush Is Blooming Page 16

  Chapter Thirty-One

  It was a grey day when I was called home by the news that Georgie had been drafted. The sky crackled all around with lightning and the thunder resounded through the halls, the classrooms and the secluded offices of campus buildings.

  Richard Anders, who had been hired as assistant professor following his Ph.D. with honors, had agreed to be my advisor for my masters year. We were in conference when the guidance department reached me with the news.

  I raced home, mindful of the wet roads and the tires on the truck that needed replacing. I would need to bolster both Mama and Georgie, despite the fact that I could use some comfort myself.

  The conflict in Vietnam had escalated from a cold war alert, then a conflict, and then escalated again to an all-out war. The boys who had decided to work instead of attend college were all eligible for draft, and many of them were being called.

  Georgie had made our fields sparkle, with wheat that blew when the winds were soft and gentle, and corn that tasted of the freshness of all outdoors. His cabbages, tomatoes, beans and cucumbers consistently won first prize at the county fair, and he outsold everyone at the Mayberry Saturday market.

  As I flew in the door, Georgie was standing in the kitchen holding the draft notice and Mama was sitting in the parlor trying to recover. I hugged Georgie and sat down next to Mama.

  “Anabel May, I’m torn in how I feel. I believe everyone should do their duty by our country, but that conflict in Vietnam, now called a war. I don’t know anyone who understands why we’re even there.”

  “I know, Mama. I think Georgie is just as confused.”

  “Georgie has worked these fields into a model farm. He’s just hitting his stride. And, he’s so young to be going so far away from home. The other side of the world.”

  “We will make sure we send him everything we can to remember home. I will write him every day. And, I know Carrie will as well.”

  “I’m going to pack him some cookies to take along with him but he won’t need any clothes. Everything will be army issue.”

  Georgie, still stunned, remained in the kitchen. I walked in and hugged him once again. “Annie May, will you take care of Mama?”

  “Of course I will. I gave up a bid for an exchange program at King’s College in London to stay here with Mama. I’ll write you every day. I know Mama will as well.”

  “I leave for Fort Dix in ten days for basic training. Then we ship out. It doesn’t say where but it has to be Vietnam.

  “Ethan Taylor and Jeb Oliver left about six months ago and have been stationed in Saigon. Maybe I’ll run into them when I get there.”

  “Maybe you will, Georgie.”

  “I’ll give instructions for the harvest to Uncle John. It has to be done just so to get the most yield.”

  “I know Uncle John will take good care of the farm. He’s slowing down, but I know he doesn’t want to quit. He says you’re the best thing that happened to this farm.”

  “Uncle John taught me everything I know. Farming is in his lineage. I know he’ll never give up.

  I have to get back to the crops, they need dusting and fertilizing, but I’ll come in as soon as the sun is low. I want to spend as much time as I can with Mama.”

  I watched Georgie, a boy on the brink of manhood, through the yellow chintz curtained windows climb up on the tractor he had tinkered with most of his life. I promised myself I would make his next days before departure as normal as I could.

  I called Carrie who drove through the night from her Brooklyn walk-up to arrive by morning, bags under her eyes and sadly in need of a strong cup of coffee. I called Will, who left his lab job a few days later to arrive home and help Georgie dust and spray the crops.

  Will took Georgie fishing, at the same time holding confabs on the future of the farm. Carrie took Georgie to the latest movie in Mayberry, a John Wayne cowboy thriller, complete with cattle rustling and sheep farmers, set against a background of beautiful western mountains. I played board games with him far into the night.

  When the day of Georgie’s departure arrived, we drove him to Rochester where the train was departing for Fort Dix. The station’s grandeur belied the sadness we felt as we got him ready to board. As Georgie climbed aboard, kissing us and hugging us as if he didn’t want to let go, we saw the same scene repeated in knots of families intermingled with business travelers and commuters.

  With Will driving, me in the passenger seat, and Mama and Carrie in the back, we were as silent as could be on the trip back home. Carrie held her arms around Mama the whole way.

  As Will left for school and Carrie for Brooklyn I felt the loneliness pervade what had once been a noisy and lively household. I made a mental note to be strong for Mama. She would need me more than ever now.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Spring brought the blossoms of the many cultivated plants to full bloom on the Syracuse campus. Josie and Jeb, both hearing the news of Georgie, formed a correspondence brigade, sending news of home and clipped cartoons from the campus newspaper, along with occasional care packages of super-sized chocolate chip cookies from Jeremiah’s restaurant, where Jeb still often ate, and which Jeremiah baked himself. Jeb’s upbeat humor was a first class hit with Georgie’s unit, especially after they shipped out to Vietnam.

  Both Jeb and Josie had plans set for after graduation. Jeb was planning to set up an engineering company with his father as CEO and himself as vice president of technical operations. He had already scouted the area in New Jersey and had found a suitable building which his father was bidding on right now.

  Josie was planning to move to Boston to be near Max who had two more years of law school and with whom she was very nearly inseparable since they had met at Carrie’s wedding. As we strolled across campus Josie rambled on about her plans, ignoring the horseplay of most of the students taken by spring fever and a desire for the semester to end. “Annie May, what do you think of my moving to Boston to be near Max?”

  “Max is a good person. I think he’s worth it.”

  “We’re planning a summer wedding a year from now.”

  “I’m so happy for you. Have you met his family?”

  “Max took me home right after we met. His folks were so cordial. Nothing like Jackson’s family, even though they have the wealth to match. His mother took me shopping on Fifth Avenue and his father taught me croquet. They’ve even invited me along on a getaway to their camp in the Adirondacks which is very large with a lot of outbuildings and is staffed by servants but is still far from the hustle bustle of Manhattan and Long Island.

  “We hit it off right away. They were so interested in farm work and what my folks were like. They even mentioned that if they had the time they would stop off to meet them on one of their many company trips.”

  “What will you do in Boston?”

  “I found a cute little apartment near the Charles River not far from the university. I’ll be working for a small farm equipment company designing new models of tractors and spreaders, and anything else I come up with, and in my spare time I’ll be volunteering for the Massachusetts Historical Society. They just got a new bequest and they can’t wait for me to catalogue it. They’re swamped just keeping their vast permanent collection in order.

  “What about you, Annie May?”

  “I’ll be substituting at Baldwinsville High and Mayberry Central until Mrs. Jenkins retires next spring. And, Richard’s keeping me on as his assistant. I’ll be researching his new novel and teaching a freshman class or two when he’s away.”

  “And, what about a social life?”

  “I’ll be pretty busy just handling a work life.”

  “How about visiting Boston? Max has a lot of friends looking for dates who are tired of giddy coeds. There will be plenty of room to stay over in my apartment.”

  “I might just take you up on it. Right now I better get over to Richard’s office. I’m sure he’ll have piles of papers to correct and nowhere to turn. He’s counting on his fir
st novel to get his name out there and forge a career.”

  “You’ve been the strength for all of us, Annie May. I wish you so much luck. You deserve it.”

  As we parted ways, I thought how much Josie had changed since she came to Syracuse fresh from the fields of Iowa, scared of the future but not certain how to cope. I was sure she and Max together would change the world.

  I thought of Georgie as well. I must remember to take some photographs of Jester catching a ball and chasing the barn cats. I would include some writing paper and some ball point pens. Georgie would be missing home.

  The sun was taking its time sinking into the west. It was as if it wanted to stay and light my way. The mauves and pinks behind it were soft but the sun was striking in its brilliance. I picked up my pace and hurried on to Richard’s. A bright student in the Pennsylvania coal mining town of his youth and a compelling and popular professor, he was lost without an assistant.

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Fall brought the most beautiful Indian summer weather along with falling leaves, reds, yellows and oranges, sent to the ground by gentle winds or more stronger ones during a sudden rainstorm. Mama spent a lot of time in the chrysanthemum bed cultivating the lush, dark soil or snipping old blooms.

  I had received my masters without any fanfare except a congratulations from Richard and had said goodbye to both Jeb and Josie. Jeb promised to visit, especially if he was in the area on business which he expected to be, both in Rochester and Syracuse. Josie repeated her offer to visit Boston.

  Carrie was expecting a baby in spring and promised a visit soon. Mama couldn’t wait to pamper her and discuss her plans for a nursery.

  Carrie arrived with most of the leaves still on the trees and weary from the long drive from Brooklyn. She collapsed quickly onto the sofa after hugging Mama and me.

  Mama couldn’t take her eyes off of Carrie, clucking about the remedies for morning sickness and making sure that Carrie ate well. “You’re eating for two now, Carolyn Ann. You can’t afford to eat like a bird.”

  “I know, Mama. The doctor instructed me and the nurse gave me a proper diet to follow. It’s not like seeing old Doc Anderson here. New York offices are huge and are filled with all kinds of people doing all kinds of jobs.”

  “Doc Anderson has delivered hundreds of babies and he hasn’t lost one.”

  “I might have to have him see to this one as well. Jamie is thinking of moving to Pottersville.”

  Mama gasped, and I, despite my cool demeanor, lost my verbal footing.

  “Why so? I thought you and Jamie were doing so well in New York?

  “We are, Mama. Jamie has risen to assistant buyer at Bloomingdale’s in just two years and I have wangled a position part time as an assistant window dresser, along with my responsibilities in millinery.

  “But, Jamie has bigger plans. He has always wanted to have a store of his own. And, with what he has learned at Bloomie’s, he figures he’s ready.

  “When he was ten, he was given a toy department store complete with wooden figures of shoppers by a great-uncle who had risen in the ranks of both Macy’s and Gimbels. He never stopped dreaming of having a store of his own.”

  “But why Pottersville? Hank Peterson already has a dry goods store and he’s not ready to retire.”

  “Jamie has in his head an idea for a department store. It’s a novel idea and lots of experts in the field have tried to talk him out of it. Department stores are built in large cities because that’s where the largest number of buyers live. But, Jamie thinks that with the proper advertising buyers will come from the larger cities around if the store is special, if it has something none of the larger department stores in the cities can supply.

  “And, it would bring up the economy of the town at the same time. He has always wanted to do something for Pottersville because his folks spent so many happy summers here. And, he knows how happy it would make me to move back home.”

  “Well, it might not work. Is Jamie willing to take that risk?”

  “I believe in Jamie, Mama. He’s smart and he’s good. And, he says we are a team so he’s certain it will work. He says if we can pull this off I will have my own fashion line, better than all the French and Italian houses combined.

  “And, he doesn’t intend to put Hank Peterson out of work. He would like to hire him to run a department just like his dry goods store. Jamie says too many companies overlook experience because they get drawn into the struggle of the daily politics that bring down a store.”

  “I think it’s time to tend to the pot roast. Carolyn Ann, you get some sleep. Anabel May and I will fix supper. You need to eat.”

  As Mama bustled about in the kitchen, humming “Down By the Riverside,” one of her favorites from her sing-along days, I pulled out the paring knife and set about to pare and core some of the apples I had pulled from the orchard behind the fields in a final harvest before the trees gave up their leaves to remain dormant for the winter. I would make an apple cobbler and even surprise Mama with a skillet of winter squash and greens, one of Carrie’s favorites.

  Supper went quickly. Carrie kept us enchanted with her window dressing escapades, including the one where the department head, lost in thought over her upcoming wedding, mistakenly put jeans and a tee shirt on a mannequin slated for an invitation only bash of the latest fashions imported directly from the runways of Paris, the gossip of her Brooklyn neighbors and the antics of Bloomingdale’s most important Manhattan shoppers. Mama sent her to bed directly after dessert.

  As Mama and I put the last dishes away Mama headed for her sewing machine to go over the patterns for baby clothes she had just purchased from the latest Sears catalogue. I went outdoors, drawn by the balmy weather and the gentle Indian summer breezes.

  I put away the watering can and the gardening gloves left by the chrysanthemum bed in the rush to welcome Carrie. I looked up at the clear night sky, stars twinkling bright against an ebon background, and wondered which one had been responsible for sending Carrie back home.

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Carrie’s baby was born in early spring when the daisies, the bluebells and the buttercups were beginning to bloom in the meadows. He was as healthy as could be with a tuft of very dark hair and eyes as blue as the sky. Carrie and Jamie had decided to carry on Jamie’s family line with the name Jameson Sloan Taylor, II.

  Mama beamed as she first laid eyes on him, proud as could be. She was certain he was the spitting image of Papa.

  Carrie and Jamie were intent upon calling him Tad, short for tadpole, since they both wanted to save him the distress of his coming second to his proud namesake, Jamie.

  As for me, I couldn’t stop looking at him, his perfect features, his little nose, and his large blue eyes. He looked perfect to spoil already, but I knew I couldn’t let on my intentions.

  Georgie, stationed at an army base just outside of Saigon where he was learning to be a medic, was delighted with the news of Tad’s birth. He sent a set of small chopsticks to be used as pick-up sticks, a game of jacks, several tops carved out of a variety of woods, and a few balloons which he had purchased from a small shop in Saigon where he had gone on a weekend pass with his buddies to get to know the native Vietnamese. He included a very small teddy bear carved by one of his buddies from wood chipped from an old tree trunk not far from the base on a lonely night with only the moon and stars for light.

  Carrie was agog with delight. She bathed Tad and fussed over him, decorating his nursery with the magical objects of childhood. Several mobiles hung from the ceiling, some with airplanes, some with teddy bears, and some with circus clowns. Pictures of Humpty Dumpty and Little Red Riding Hood decorated the walls of the small, old house she and Jamie had purchased on the only side street of Pottersville.

  Jamie was busy turning an old, abandoned warehouse at the edge of town into a department store that would test the powers of the largest major stores in the business. He worked every daylight hour with the help of old Ethan Willia
ms, a carpenter by trade but a plumber and electrician by hobby and a whiz at refurbishing old counters he rescued from the old five and dime he found in an old barn behind his house.

  I helped Carrie as much as I could, bathing and feeding Tad, and walking him down the sidewalk when the weather was nice, especially past Beulah Walker’s place so she could cluck over him and recite tips on bathing and feeding, the proper way to hold him, and how to avoid the perils of colic, spoiling, and diaper rash.

  As we strolled the sidewalks of Pottersville the gentle spring breezes brought color to Carrie’s cheeks and the bright morning sun brought warmth to Tad’s buggy, a huge affair that Jamie had found in the pages of a Saks Fifth Avenue catalogue. As we rounded the corner to Main Street, Carrie turned quiet.

  “A penny for your thoughts, Squirrel.”

  “I was just thinking how I miss the fashion world. The excitement, the shows, the unveiling of the latest designs. I would like to make Pottersville a destination like Paris and Milan.

  “I have so many ideas for dresses and gowns, for skirts that are casual and can go anywhere, for fashion that can be dressed up or down, and for ball gowns that anyone can aspire to.

  “When does Jamie’s store open?”

  “He’s hoping it’ll be ready by June. We’ve planned a grand opening that will have clowns and balloons, giveaways, games and contests. He has started hiring experts in millinery, shoes, and handmade jewelry as well as a few high-priced gems. I can hardly wait. I expect to be sketching by May. I’ll be in charge of women’s fashions.”

  “Sounds great. Who will be caring for Tad?”

  “I’ll be able to work at home a lot. But, when I’m at the store, I have great help in Jessie Larson who lives down the street and would love to watch Tad who she already adores. Her youngest, Daisy, is two and has already decided to adopt him as a playmate.

  “Mama will fill in when she can. She has pulled a crib from the attic and has filled a dresser with blankets and baby clothes. She has knitted Tad several pairs of mittens even though winter is several months away.”