P.S. I Love You

By:  Lara


Cindy yawned and stretched as she turned off her alarm clock. How in the world did morning come so fast. She sat up and rubbed her eyes, then closed them again. "Please, God, keep him safe. Bring him home safe and sound and mine...all mine." She sighed and got out of bed, heading for the shower.
                The children were in an exceptionally good mood that day, as if they knew she was in an extra depressed mood. One of the little girls even brought her an apple. Cindy smiled as she stood inside the classroom and watched them at play. Oh, to be so young and innocent.
               
"I got a letter!" Lara danced on Cindy's doorstep, waving the letter in the
air. "Oh, Cindy, it's a letter from Josh! He's okay!"
               
"Come on in...I'll put some coffee on and you can tell me all about it." Cindy opened the screen door and let her friend come inside. "Does he say anything about Lance?"
               
"Yes," Lara said, smiling coyly.
               
"Then sit down and read it!"
               
"Okay." Lara sat down and lovingly opened the piece of white tablet paper.
               
She sighed. "I miss him, Cindy."
               
"I know. I miss Lance, too. Just read, okay?" Cindy started the coffee and sat down with Lara at the kitchen table.
               
"Dear Lara...I miss you so much. I never thought Navy life would be so unbearable. I know I'm over here serving my country...but it's hard. I miss you...I miss hearing your sweet voice..." Lara blushed and stopped. "I guess you don't want to hear that."
               
Cindy smiled and squeezed Lara's hand. "Go ahead."
               
"I can't really tell you where we are or what we're doing, but we're safe for now. Lance said to tell Cindy that he'll write when he can, and that he loves her. I'm sure a letter is already in the mail to her, so his greetings may beat mine. If so, I told him to tell her to tell you how much I love you." Lara began to sniffle. "And I love you...so much...I can't wait until this damned thing is over so I can make you my wife. Love always, your Joshua." Lara wiped away her tears and smiled at Cindy. "I envy you. You got to marry Lance before he left."
               
"I know...I was one of the lucky ones," she said wistfully. Their wedding had been before that dreadful attack on Pearl Harbor, before the United States had gotten involved in the war across the ocean. Josh, Lance, and their friend Joey had signed up immediately and had been assigned to the same ship. They had been gone for five months.
               
"Well...I just wanted to let you know that as of..." Lara checked the date.
               
"Wow...as of a month ago...they're fine."
               
"Yes...they're fine." Cindy closed her eyes and prayed.
               
"So...my mother is making a meatloaf for dinner. Want to come over? She'd love to have you."
               
"Okay, thanks, Lara. Let me grab a sweater." Cindy pulled on a cardigan and followed Lara out the front door. Lara lived about four blocks away. "So, how's your job?"
               
"Good...interesting." Lara rolled her eyes. "My mother, of course, thinks a woman's place is NOT in a newspaper office, but editing is SO interesting! I may even keep the job once Josh comes back...if...he comes back," Lara faltered.
               
"WHEN he comes back," Cindy said, squeezing her arm. "I swear, all the men leaving has opened all kinds of opportunities for women."
               
"Don't tell my mom you think that way, okay? She thinks my place is at home waiting for Josh to come back and marry me." Lara stopped in front of her house and frowned. "I can't do that. It drives me crazy."
               
"I understand," Cindy whispered.
               

Cindy had a nice evening with Lara and her mother, then slowly walked back to her own home. The night was cool but comfortable. She sighed, remembering the way she and Lance would always walk after dinner.
               
"That star is yours," he would say, pointing up to some random star.
               
"Why?"
               
"Because it's bright and powerful and beautiful...like you..." he would
whisper before kissing her cheek.
               
Cindy sighed as she went into her house and sat down at the table. The phone rang and she jumped to answer it. It was Lance's mother, calling from Mississippi. Cindy chatted with her for a few minutes, then hung up. She stared at the table, then stared at the kitchen sink, where dishes were piled. They could wait. She needed to talk to Lance. She got back up and dug a pad of stationery from her drawer. She thought for a moment, then began to write. Nothing was new, nothing exciting, but just writing to him made her feel better.

What is there to write? What is there to say? Same things happen every day...not a thing to write, not a thing to say...so I take my pen in hand and start the same old way...dear, I thought I'd drop a line...the weather's cool...the folks are fine...I'm in bed each night at nine...p.s. I love you...

 

Cindy carefully maneuvered the car into the parking space, sighing with relief.  It was drizzling slightly, and she hated driving in the rain.  Lance had taught her how to drive a few years earlier, and she was proud of the fact that she could drive when many of her friends could not.

                "Mrs. Bass!"  One of her students ran up to her.  "My daddy said that all the ships in the Navy are gonna get blowed up! Do you think that's true?"

                "I sure hope not, Tommy," Cindy said, her smile faltering.

                "Me either," the little boy said, trotting along beside her. "I told him that, too, because I know Mr. Bass is on a ship, and I don't want anything to happen to him!"

                "Me either," Cindy said with a sigh, holding the door open for the little boy.

 

She was awakened the following Saturday by noise outside her window. Cindy yawned, stretched, and pulled on a robe.  Pulling aside the curtains, she gasped as she saw someone walking through her yard. She relaxed when she realized it was her next door neighbor, Mr. Brown. He was cutting her grass. 

Cindy quickly pulled on some clothes and put a pot of coffee on.  As soon as it was ready, she carried a cup out to the man, who was just finishing her front yard.  "Mr. Brown, this wasn't necessary."

"Oh, Cindy, you know it was no trouble at all," he said, smiling cheerfully. He accepted the coffee with a nod of thanks.

"There you are, Cindy!  Glad to see you awake!"  Mrs. Brown came hustling out of her house.  Cindy hid a sigh.

"Good morning, Mrs. Brown," she said with a smile.  The woman handed her a plate.

"Muffins, fresh out of the oven. I've been up for a few hours, of course."  Mrs. Brown's tone insinuated that she felt that Cindy should have been up for hours as well.  "Have you heard anything from your husband?"

"Not exactly, though a friend whose fiancé is serving with Lance got a letter … he said he's fine," Cindy said.

"That's good.  You tell him we asked about him, okay? And enjoy the muffins!"  Mrs. Brown waved over her shoulder as she returned to her house.

Mr. Brown smiled apologetically. "I know she gets a little annoying, but she means well."

Cindy patted his arm. "I know she does. Thanks again, Mr. Brown.  Just leave the cup on the front porch when you're done."

 

"I know, it's driving ME crazy, too," Cindy said as she lit a candle.  "Lara, we don't even know if they're IN the Pacific."  She dropped the match and cursed. "Oh shit burned a hole in the table."  She rubbed a finger over it, mortified.  Lance had spent a lot of money on this set of furniture for their dining room.

"Where else would they be, Cindy?  They're in the Navy, on a ship.  The fighting is in the Pacific, and it's escalating. I heard it on the radio!"

"Relax, Lara.  For all we know, they're in the Mediterranean or something, or in the Atlantic near Africa. There's fighting there, too …"

"Whatever."  Lara sighed.  "I want him home safe."

"I know, Lara, I know. I'll talk to you later."  Cindy hung up just as someone knocked on the door.  She sighed. It was dinnertime.

When she saw the man in uniform on her front porch, she froze.  Men in uniform on your front porch at dinnertime could only mean one thing. "Mrs. Bass?"

"Y-yes?" She whispered.

"Telegram." The man handed her the piece of paper and she then realized he didn't wear a military uniform, but a Western Union uniform.

"Thank you," she whispered, turning away from him. She sat down hard.  Telegrams weren't much better then men in uniform.  She read the words on the paper, then crumpled the paper in her hand. She needed to call Lara.  Lara wasn't immediate family, therefore she would not be notified.

"Hello?"

"Lara?"

"Hey, Cindy.  I was …"

"Listen to me.  I just … I got a telegram."  Sobs jumped into Cindy's throat.  "Their ship has been hit. There's casualties … and they have no more information than that."

 

Cindy curled up in bed, hugging Lance's pillow tightly against her. She could no longer smell him on it, but she liked to pretend she could.  She cried against it for a long while as she remembered his face, his hands, his kind green eyes.  He wasn't dead. He couldn't be.  She reached into the nightstand and pulled out a notepad.  Wiping her nose on the sleeve of her robe, she began to write.

 

Yesterday we had some rain, but all in all, I can't complain…was it dusty on the train?  P.S. I love you…write to the Browns just as soon as your able, they came around to call…I burned a hole in the dining room table…and let me see, I guess that's all…nothing else for me to say…and so I'll close…but by the way…Everybody's thinking of you…P.S. I Love You…

 

I do my best to obey all your wishes…I put a sign up, "Think."  But I gotta buy us a new set of dishes…or wash the ones that are piled in the sink…

 

Cindy didn't go into work that day…or the next day…or the next day.  She couldn't even pull herself out of bed. Part of her knew that Lance wasn't dead.  She just KNEW. If he was dead, she'd feel it.  She'd know.

Lara came over every night after work. She said the only thing that kept her from tearing her hair out was to keep busy.  Cindy knew that was the right attitude to have, but she couldn't help it.  Nothing motivated her.

A few weeks passed, and then a few more.  They finally heard that yes, Lance and Josh's ship WAS in the Pacific, and yes, it had been hit.  They heard nothing from or about Lance and Josh, however, and they could do nothing but worry.

 

Cindy sat at her kitchen table, pen in hand.  Writing to Lance helped, though she couldn't bring herself to actually send the letters. Her eyes focused on the kitchen sink and she smiled.  Lance knew she hated washing dishes, and he'd tease her by placing one cracker or one cookie on a plate, just to make it dirty for her.  Cindy's eyes filled with tears.  How could she get on without him?

 

Nothing else to tell you dear…except each day…seems like a year…every night I'm dreaming of you…P.S. I Love You…

 

"Cindy…baby."  Lance pulled Cindy into his arms, hugging her tight. "You're the only thing that got me through it."

"Lance."  Cindy burst into tears, kissing his face wherever she could find skin. "I love you."

"I love you, too, baby…I'm so sorry…" Lance took a step back, releasing her. "I'm so sorry…"

"Lance…Lance…" Cindy sobbed.

When she woke up, the tears were still fresh on her cheeks. She turned to her side and sobbed into the pillow.

 

"And so I think he might keep me on after the war," Lara told Cindy as she deftly flipped the dough into the pie pan.  "I mean, as an editor's assistant!  Not a copy girl, not a secretary…an assistant!"  Lara's hands flew as she talked, pressing the dough into a piecrust.  "I almost had a heart attack!"

"I bet," Cindy said, getting the blueberry filling ready.  "This pie is celebratory, then."

"Yes, it is," Lara said, smiling.  "I still am in shock."

"How does your mother feel?"

Lara rolled her eyes.  "Well…"

She was interrupted by the phone ringing and the doorbell ringing simultaneously.  "Can you get the door?" Cindy asked as she answered the phone.

"Sure."  Lara went to the door.  Cindy heard her scream and quickly made excuses to her mother. Hanging up her phone, she poked her head out of the kitchen.

"Lara, what…" Cindy froze.  "OH…my God…" she whispered.  "Am I dreaming?"

"No."  Lance's green eyes were full of emotion as he reached out his one good arm. "I'm here."

"Lance."  Cindy stared at her husband, still unable to believe he was there.  He walked over and embraced her, his left arm in a sling. 

"Baby." 

Cindy began to quietly cry on his shoulder. "You're…you're alive. I KNEW you'd be alive.  I KNEW."

"It takes a lot more than stupid Nazis to get me, Cin…you know that."  Lance kissed her head as he held her close.  He looked over her shoulder at Lara, who was nervously biting her lip.  He released Cindy, and gave Lara a hug.  "You've got flour on your nose," he teased gently.

"Yeah," she said absentmindedly. "I…well…" Tears swam in her blue eyes.  "Josh?"

"Yes?"  A dark head poked its way into the house.  Lara screamed again.  "It takes me longer to get around…and Lance here was pretty hell-bent on getting back to his wife."  Josh struggled with his crutches, his long frame maneuvering in the door. Lara stood back and stared at him.  Her eyes ran over his thin body, ending at the pants leg that was pinned up below his left knee.  "Don't I get a hug?"

"I…yes…" Tears flowed down Lara's cheeks as she carefully hugged him.

"I understand if you want to call things off," Josh murmured in her ear.

"What?" Lara gasped.

"I mean…I know I just play piano in a bar to begin with…and I can still pedal the piano with my right foot…but I'm not…you know…a complete person.  A husband with one leg could be…"

"A husband with one leg could be everything I wished for, if he's you," Lara whispered through her tears.

 

The End

 

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