Top of the World (War romance story)

Chapter Ten (Part One)

I am so sorry for not posting for so long! I've been caught up in work and school, but here's a long chapter for all my patient readers! Please enjoy, and leave feedback. Thank you. x

FYI: I've decided to separate this chapter into two chunks, since it would be ridiculously long if I were to keep it as a single one, so this is just Part One. Part Two will be posted soon, I promise!

Thanks again! xoxo

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Sunday, June 4, 1939

Abby

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Hudson was at my left, lounging back in the grass with his arms folded behind his head. He looked upwards towards the sky, like he was cloud watching, but his eyes were closed. My eyes roamed over him, and I smiled at how peaceful he looked. Almost like a dream.

A flock of birds landed in the tree to my left, rustling the leaves. They began to sing a song, low and sweet, and Hudson whistled in imitation.

"Barn swallows." He informed me.

"Oh." I said, dumbly. I wasn't educated on birds, nor have I really given it thought, but I liked their songs. They were beautifully melodic.

He sat upright and laughed at my reply. A smile cracked his face, and his eyes glistened. He lazily ran his fingers through his dark hair, making it stand on ends. He looked boyish just then. Utterly adorable, yet handsome.

"I've been thinking about it." I told him, knowing he'd know what I was referring to. He sat with his legs propped up, elbows resting on his knees, and I watched his gaze turn towards the open field before us. The grasses swayed, low and steady, and went on for miles like an ocean of green.

"And?" He asked, returning his soft gaze to my face. I shrugged, "It won't be easy, but you're right. It's time to tell my parents... about us."

He nodded. "How do you think they'll take it?" His question made me sit and think for a while, silently. For some reason, I figured my father would at least feel a little happy for me. After spending ages trying to coax me out of my room, or out of the front porch swing, I wanted to believe that his heart would be open and willing to accept Hudson. I wanted to believe that my parents wanted the best for me, and I know they did, but our ideas on the matter were entirely different. I knew what I wanted, but in their eyes, they figured they knew what I needed.

My mother was a different story. She was a woman of "high standards" as she called it, and she always pictured me on the arm of some handsome millionaire, draped in diamonds with a grand house and a full staff of maids, cooks, servants, and everything else a "proper" girl would need.

I didn't want that. I certainly didn't need it, either.

"I don't know." I finally said, gently biting my bottom lip, "They're a bit... superficial."

"I'm a poor guy." He said, abruptly. I turned towards him, shaking my head.

"No, Hudson. That's not what I meant..."

"No need to sugarcoat it, Abby. It's okay. I'm a poor guy. I know." He shrugged and smiled, and I knew he wasn't offended.

 "Can I be honest?" He added.

I nodded, and he relaxed his posture, lounging back in the grass again, allowing his body to sink into the plush ground, like nature was absorbing him. "I always figured your parents were the type that would force you into an arranged marriage," he met my eyes, squinting from the powerful rays of the sun, "Some oil tycoon, or stockbroker."