The Wind in Our Words

VIII: 1941

I exited the train, waving goodbye to Abigail and all our newfound friends. 

My heart was so full. However, now it was time to return to my reality. Two of the most important people in my life would be sucked away in the vortex of war. 

I felt a tear drip down my cheek. It was so unusual, yet it all felt natural. Soft, like the summer rain we'd danced in. 

Charlie had some loose ends to tie up at the business, so here I was with my portmanteau in my hand that I had taken with me the night before. 

Charlie dropped me off at my home in the company automobile. I opened the door, only to find my father, staring me down. 

"Where on earth have you been?"

"Did you not see my note?"

"Of course I saw your note. That doesn't change the fact that you left and went off for over twenty-four hours without permission."

"I'm sorry..."

"Sorry? Rachel, Charlotte Hill was supposed to help you make good choices? Did you slack off on decision-making day?" 

"No, father! I simply wanted to spend time with the man I love before he may die in the trenches of an abominable war!"

"I would understand. I would get it. I don't get it anymore." 

"It's the same thing! Wouldn't you and mother sneak off?" Hilda turned her head at that remark. 

"Rachel. Don't bring your mother into this."

"Then who shall I bring in? You honeymooned with Hilda for a day and left us with the Kennedy's without a word of warning! Did you think that one through? Did you slack off on parenting day?"

"She has a point," Frank interjected, reading the newspaper and chomping on a bagel from the local market. 

"Alright, you two." Father sat back into his chair. "I admit, my decisions regarding my second marriage were not at all the most reasonable. I should have told you."

"What decisions?" Hilda stared my father down, her hand on a rag, which was firmly planted along the countertop. 

"Maybe even getting married. So soon, too." He sighed. "Well, we should be having dinner. Fix something up, Hilda."

Was my father finally realizing that maybe what he had done was not the best decision? I had waited on this moment for years. 

"Wow. I never thought it would come to this." Hilda scrubbed away at the countertop. 

"Frank, I figure I should spend some time with you, before you go." He nodded. 

December 11th was the last day that Frank would be here. Charlie was leaving on the thirteenth. I decided to take Frank to a play. 

"It's kind of fun, isn't it?" I winced. Plays weren't necessarily my thing. I was quite introverted, with a tough exterior. I had great admiration for the people that had the talent to do it, but I myself shivered at the very thought. 

I couldn't sing well, nor could I dance properly, either. I could never pretend to be someone else. The shimmer and smiling straight in my face was intimidating, but I sat back, watched, and saw as Frank giggled with delight. He found jokes in the dialogue that the audience as a whole didn't get. 

I would truly miss my dear, dear brother. 

My father had helped Frank pack everything he would need. They spent countless hours in the study, talking about Fathers experiences in the war. He even let me in a couple of times.