As Jonathon crossed the small living room to go to Helen, he was dismayed by what he saw. She was even more pale than she'd been the last time he'd seen her, and there were dark circles under her eyes, as if she wasn't able to sleep. She was wearing the same black dress she wore to the funeral, and he thought it was probably the only one she owned.
"How are you?" he asked, taking her hand.
"I'm okay," she said quietly, but he could see in her eyes she wasn't, and he mentally kicked himself for asking such a stupid question. Helen's aunt appeared, and he dropped Helen's hand.
"I'll make a pot of coffee and we have a nice lemon meringue pie the neighbors brought over," Mrs. Moore said cheerfully.
Helen winced with her eyes closed, but because Mrs. Moore was standing behind her, she didn't notice.
"Please don't go to any bother for me," Jonathon said quickly, and then said more gently, "Helen, do you want coffee?"
"No, but thank you, Aunt Irene," Helen said, turning towards her.
Mrs. Moore's face fell. "Oh, well – alright," she said, clearly disappointed.
"Thank you," Jonathon said, and waited. Thankfully, Mrs. Moore took the hint and left them alone.
"Come, let's sit," he said, taking Helen's hand again. He kept hold of it as he led her to the couch, not wanting to take a chance she'd sit in another chair. "I wanted to see how you were getting along."
"That was nice of you, but – you shouldn't have," she said, not meeting his eyes while she sat beside him.
"Yes, I should," he said forcefully. "You need someone to look out for you." He was tempted to say her relatives didn't care enough about her to do it, but held his tongue.
"I can look out for myself, Johnny," she said, but based on how badly she looked, he wasn't sure she was managing very well.
"I know this has to be hard for you."
"I can't believe he's gone," she said, almost in a whisper as she pulled a wadded handkerchief out of the pocket of her dress. "Every time there's a knock on the door, or the phone rings..." She shook her head. "I keep thinking they made a mistake. Maybe one of the boys who survived is him, but he got hit on the head and has amnesia."
"Helen–"
"I know! I know it's stupid!" she muttered. "They wouldn't make a mistake like that, but all these crazy thoughts keep running through my head. I can't make them stop."
She wiped her eyes, and watching her, his heart ached for her. "When my father died, I had a hard time believing it too," he said. "For days I kept expecting him to walk in the door and take over like he always would. I guess it's the shock when you lose someone unexpectedly."
"I guess," she said miserably to the rumpled handkerchief in her hands.
"If there's anything I can get for you, or anything I can do, just tell me."
She shook her head while she kept her attention on the handkerchief in her hand. "No." Then her shoulder's drooped. "Well..."
When she didn't continue, he prodded, "Anything at all, Helen. I mean it."
"Maybe – you could give a message to Billy for me?"
"Billy?" he said with surprise. It was the last thing he'd expected her to say.
She kept her head down as she began pulling and tugging on the handkerchief. "I was going to write you and Billy, but since you're here... Would you tell him how grateful I am he was so friendly, and I'm grateful for your friendship too, Johnny. Thanks for all the times you invited me to your home. I had a lot of fun back then. I'll never forget it."
He had an ominous feeling in the pit of his stomach. "Why would you need me to tell him that? You'll be seeing him again, you can tell him yourself."
"The thing is – I don't think I'll have a chance to see him – or you, after today."
Jonathon felt the air leave his lungs. "What do you mean?" he gasped, his heart beginning to bang in his chest.
"I'm leaving town," she said quietly, still not looking up from her hands.
His mind reeled, trying to understand what was happening. "When?" he said faintly.
"Friday."
No! She couldn't leave, he thought desperately. Not now. Not when he finally had his chance with her. "Where are you going?" he asked, while he tried to get his jumbled thoughts together.
She lifted her head, but instead of looking at him, she turned her attention to the picture window behind the couch. "Minneapolis – or Chicago. Maybe Milwaukee. I haven't decided yet."
"You're not – going to live with your parents?"
She turned to face him, her eyes filled with anguish. "No." Tears welled up, and she stood and went to the fireplace. "I'm old enough they shouldn't have to take care of me," she said in a shaky voice with her back to him.
"I don't understand this at all! Why are you leaving?" he said, getting up to go to her.
She squared her shoulders, and when she turned around, her eyes flashed with determination. "I want to get a job in a factory. I heard they're hiring women now, and I want to help with the war effort. Maybe a bullet or a bomb I make will kill the person who killed Walt."
It was getting worse by the moment. Helen working with explosives? "I – I can understand why – you would feel like you'd want to – do that," he said, grasping for words. "But – but – are you sure you want to?"
"Yes, I'm sure," she said, lifting her chin.
"I mean, working in a factory, Helen. It's no place for a woman. They're dirty, and loud, and it's dangerous! You could get killed!"
"It's just as dangerous for men, but they do it all the time!" she insisted. Jonathon opened his mouth to argue, but she continued. "I'll be careful, Johnny. I promise I won't let anything happen to me, but this is what I've decided to do."
"We're all supporting the war effort no matter what we do, as long as we're doing something, even working at a bank," he said, trying a different approach. "You don't have to leave town if you want to support the war effort."
"It's not the same thing, Johnny!" she said, going back to the couch. "Working at the bank isn't enough."
"Do your aunt and uncle know you're leaving?" If they were against it too, maybe the three of them could band together and figure out a way to stop her.
"Yes, they know," she said, sinking into the couch.
"What did they say?" he said, going to sit next to her.
She shrugged her shoulders. "Not much. I've paid my uncle back the money I owe him."
Of course they didn't care about what could happen to her, Jonathon thought bitterly, rage boiling white hot through him. They'd never cared about her well-being.
"Where will you live? Those are big cities, Helen. They're dangerous places for girls on their own."
"I know that, Johnny, but I told you already. I'm going to be careful."
As it became clearer she wasn't going to change her mind, the desperation in him grew. "Please don't go!" he pleaded, taking her hand. "I know I don't have the right to ask you to stay, but – I'm worried about what might happen to you. Please don't do this."
She wrenched her hand out of his. "I have to go!"
"But why?"
She jumped off the couch. "I told you already!" she said while he followed behind her. "I have to do it for Walt, and for all the other soldiers."
"I'll give you a job at the mine!" he said as the thought suddenly came to him. "You can work in the office. That way you can work in the war effort and you won't have to leave town!"
"Johnny, please!" she said with a pained expression.
"No, listen to me! Every bit of Blackwell iron we ship to the foundries is going to make bombs and bullets, ships, planes, everything!" he said, spreading his arms out.
"Johnny, stop!" she begged. "I'm not changing my mind!"
"I don't understand why not! It's the perfect solution!"
She wrung her hands while she looked around the room, as if the answer was in the flowered fabrics. Studying her, he had a sinking realization. "Something else is going on, isn't there? There's some other reason why you're leaving."
"That's not true!" she cried, and then looked over her shoulder as if she was afraid her aunt and uncle might appear. When she faced him again, he saw guilt in her expression, and in that moment he knew he'd been right. There was something she wasn't telling him.
Leaning closer to her, he whispered, "Is it your aunt and uncle? Are they making you leave?"
"No, Johnny," she said, and wiped a tear that had escaped.
"Then tell me what's going on!" he begged quietly. "I know there's something else that's making you leave."
"Why can't you let this go?" she pleaded.
"Because I care about you!"
She opened her mouth and then closed it. He waited, watching her struggle, and after a long minute, she let out a sigh. "Let's go for a walk," she said dispiritedly, and headed our of the room without waiting for his reply.
She handed him his fedora with a grim expression, and then pulled a sweater out of the coat closet. Watching her put it on, he got a sick feeling in his stomach. Whatever she was going to tell him, it must be bad, and then the rage towards the Moore's flared up again. This had to be something they'd done to her, or neglected to stop. There was no other explanation for her being unwilling to change her mind about moving out of town.
"You're leaving?" he heard Mrs. Moore say behind him, and he went to open the front door. He was so angry, he didn't dare turn around or speak to her.
"We're just going for a quick walk, Aunt Irene," Helen said.
"Oh, alright."
Helen walked past him, and he closed the door behind them. When James noticed them descending the front steps, he got out of the car.
"I want you to park downtown," Jonathon called out, and James stopped part way around the car. "I'll meet you there later."
"Aye, sir," James said, turning on his heel.
Helen turned to the right, and he followed her. As he walked alongside her, he stole sideways glances at her. She seemed deep in thought, her eyes on the pavement in front of her, and he kept quiet, allowing her time to think. But whatever she was about to tell him, he was determined to find a way to keep her from leaving.
At the end of the block, there was a small park with children and parents playing. Past a swing set, Helen led him to a far corner where there was a stand of trees. They were far enough away from anyone they wouldn't be overheard, but Jonathon stepped closer to her anyway.
"There is a reason why you're insisting on leaving, isn't there?" he said quietly. "One you haven't told me."
She chewed her bottom lip while she watched the children playing.
"It's your aunt and uncle!" he hissed. "I know it! They're the ones making you leave."
"It's not them," she said with a resigned sigh.
"Then what is it?" he demanded.
"I'm going to have Walt's baby."
Jonathon stared at her in shock, feeling like he'd just been kicked in the stomach.
"I found out the week before – before... I wrote to him, but I don't think he got the letter," she said with her voice cracking. "I know if he read it, he'd be worried about me," she said, and then quickly wiped a tear that had escaped. "But at least he'd know. I wish he'd known." She wiped her eyes again, and then straightened, looking up at him. "So that's the reason," she said firmly.
She turned to walk away, but before he was aware of what he was doing, he'd grabbed her hand. "Wait." She looked at him at him uncertainly while he gently pulled her back. "I still – don't – I don't–" he sputtered, trying to make sense of what she'd just said. "How?"
She let out a harsh laugh. "How do you think it happened? I was stupid. I was afraid. I thought he was going to be killed, that I was never going to see him again. I – I wasn't thinking about what might happen. It turned out I was right," she said miserably. "He's gone, and now I'm in trouble."
"What are you going to do?"
"I have to leave, Johnny. I can't bring disgrace on my aunt and uncle."
"But – how will you manage?"
"You forget, I was raised in a poor family," she said with a sad smile. "I'm used to doing without a lot of things. I have a little savings. That will tide me over until I can find a job, and then I'll work for as long as I can before – I have to stop."
"But what about after that? What will you do about the – the–" He couldn't bring himself to say the word.
"I won't give it up, Johnny. I can't do that to Walt. I owe it to him to raise his child. I'll say I'm a war widow. No one will know any differently, and I'll find someone to watch it so I can go back to work."
He struggled to find the right words to say, but it was all so horrible. Helen moving to a big city, pregnant and alone, having to lie about her bastard child and praying people wouldn't find out the truth. Working in some dirty, dangerous factory until she was about to give birth, and then leaving the baby with strangers while she struggled to feed both of them. If he'd tried, he couldn't have thought of a worse life for her.
She stepped closer to him, putting her hand on his arm. "I told you I was the wrong girl for you," she said quietly. "You have to forget about me. Find someone who will make you happy, Johnny, someone who will love you like you deserve."
Blinking back tears, she turned and walked away. Watching her cross the playground with the children running around her, he knew this was the end. There was no way he could have her in his life now, not with her carrying Walt's child. It was the cruelest hand he could have been dealt, because as bad as that was for him, he'd have to live the rest of his life knowing she was suffering.
She disappeared behind a house, heading in the direction of her aunt and uncle's home, and he slumped against a tree with his heart broken, knowing that was the last time he'd ever see her.
****
The truth is finally out, and it's pretty bad. What will happen that will get these two together? You'll find out in the next chapter, but I hope you'll share your thoughts with me. Your comments often spur ideas that make the story better for you!
During the next week or so, I'm going to be writing something for the Wattpad Block Party - Winter Edition. A lot of you have already requested I do something about Jonathon and Annie, which is a wonderful suggestion because I'd never thought to write about them. Unfortunately, I don't think I can right now. I'm still not sure how much of their relationship I'm going to include in this story, and anything I write now and have posted before this story ends may be too spoilerish, or subject to change.
If you have any last minute thoughts of other stories you'd like me to write, any of the couples from my stories or new ideas, let me know now! As soon as I get that piece written, I'll get to work on the next chapter. You can be sure it's going to be a good one! ;)
If you'd like to find out about all of the many (over 100!) giveaways from the Block Party featured authors, go to the hyperlink I've included in this chapter. And be sure to add the Block Party story to your reading list. Wattpad's most loved and popular authors will each be contributing something.
Cheers until next time!
Katherine