Entangled Hearts

Chapter 36

Even by the time John had been home six months, his presence did not make Laura Mae feel that she was no longer needed in the Chatterton home. It would not be long now until she might be asked to keep her promise of letting her hostess adopt her baby girl to be joint heir with John. How could she possibly keep that promise? She was sure she would rather die than part with her child!

John had been watching the beautiful young woman with growing admiration though those six months. Many nights Celia had taken care of little Laura Gene while Mrs. Chatterton and John and "May" attended the operas and the theaters. The Chatterton's were proud to have the girl accompany them for her manners were charming.

One evening, they drove to the Royal Theatre and stopped the car. The bright lights that were flickering and flashing still fascinated Laura Mae. A few minutes later, she began dreaming; it was Gene, not John, who was buying the tickets and guiding her across the soft carpets toward the usher then down the aisle to the plush-backed seats just as he had done on their wedding day. Mrs. Chatterton and John were out of her life for the moment. Everything was the same, the boxes, the dome, the shaded lights, and the orchestra playing down in front. The only thing that was different was the new curtain that was being slowly drawn back on the stage. The show was starting. In the darkness of the theater, John's hand sought hers gave it a friendly squeeze. That awakened her to reality, it was not Gene's had that had touched hers. Gene's hand had been warmer and the squeeze, it had given her that night, was more tender and loving. She dropped her glove for an excuse to get her hand away from John's. It was Gene she wanted, only Gene! She wiped away a tear without John noticing her do it and smiled, pretending that she was enjoying the show. How long must she go on like this in a world of make-believe?

Mrs. Chatterton was a prominent welfare worker in the city. She had grown to love all of the poor people with whom she came in her work. The numerous welfare committee meetings took her away from home many hours each week and John and Laura Mae found themselves alone with little Laura Gene, much of the time. Laura Mae respected John and admired him, for he was cultured and showed such splendid manhood, but she did not dream that he was falling in love with her and that was why he managed to be near her so much of the time.

Wednesday morning, just after breakfast, "May" and Laura Gene went out for their usual walk in the fresh air and sunshine, leaving John and his mother alone together for a while.

"What do you think of her, Mother?" John asked.

"Why, John, I have told you over and over that I think that she is lovely! What do you think of her, that is what I have been wondering?"

"I cannot just exactly analyze my feelings toward her, but I know that I miss her when she even leaves the house to take her morning walk."

"You must be learning to love her, too, but just what kind of love is it? The kind that you might have for a sister?" the mother asked with just a hint of teasing in her eyes.

"I don't know," John answered, half aloud as if he were lost in deep thought.

"John, have you ever been in love with any girl?" The mother asked the question frankly.

"I had never thought of loving anyone but you, Mother." He looked tenderly at the lovely lady by his side. "Until over in France, after I was hurt, there came a nurse to wait on me. She is the one who wrote the first letter to you for me because I could not have written with my left hand. Her name was Martha and I never learned her last name. She was so sweet and kind to me! I did not have a chance to ever see her again after they transferred her to the front. Nobody knew how I missed her after that! Mother, I would give a lot to know where she is if she lived through that racket over there, so I could find her and learn to know her better.

"That was likely just a fancy that you had, you surely could not have been in love with her. You may never see her again in the whole wide world if you know so little about her. What kind of a family does she come from?"

"I do not know, but that does not make the least speck of difference to me since the war!" John said with emphasis.

"Why doesn't it, son?" Mrs. Chatterton looked squarely at her boy.

"Rich and poor were all alike of over there. We all fought side by side for the same cause and we learned to love each other. Social barriers were all washed out, and they all always be washed out for me. I judge the person not by his financial standing."

"You dear boy, you are just your father over and over. I was just a poor girl and he loved me anyway. I am so glad money has not affected you, John." The mother was filled with pride as she spoke.

"Has May ever told you about her family?" he asked.

"I have never urged her to tell me about them. I feel that she will tell me what she wants me to know. I am sure she is quite common or June would have told me." Mrs. Chatterton explained. "But what difference does it make you just now told me yourself that it is the person that counts."

"You mentioned June. She looked me up after the Armistice was signed. It sure did me good to see her over there. She must have liked France better than I did to want and stay over there as she has."

"I had a letter from her mother yesterday. She says that June is sailing from France next week so we will soon see her again."

"I love to dance with Cousin June. She glides about as nearly perfect as anyone I have ever taken to the dance floor. I wish she could be here to attend the Charity Ball tomorrow night," John said.

"I have asked May to go with us to the ball tomorrow night, but she does not seem to be very interested in it. I wish she would go out to more of our social entertainments. It would help her to forget."

"I will coax her to go, Mother. I have not had a chance to find out whether she can dance at all or not," he said good-naturedly.

"John, I have not asked you about the promise she made to me the day she came, have I?" the lady asked.

"No?" John gave his mother a questioning glance.

"She promised that if the baby, which was then unborn, was a girl, and if she and it were not climbed by the father within two years after the close of the war, I was to have the privilege of adopting it."

"That is quite a promise, Mother. If you make her keep it, her heart will be completely broken, the way she loves the child."

"I know, John, but a promise is a promise. I have done a great deal for her. The easiest way out of it, as far as I can see, is for you to marry her. Then the baby will have our name and still belong to her.

"What if she should marry me and the husband should come back for her, after all?" John had thought of that very thing before.

"I would never have suggested such a thing, my boy if I were not sure that her husband s dead. She told me that she has gone to his bank and found that she is joint owner of quite a large sum of money. He has not touched a cent of it neither during the war nor since. If he were alive, he would surely find need for his money. Don't you think he would?"

"It does look funny, all right," John agreed.

"She wanted to pay the money back to me that I paid to the doctor and the hospital when the baby came but I would not even listen to that, the dear sweet girl," the mother said with tenderness in her voice. "John, promise me that you will try and win her love, for my sake, and the sake of the baby, will you?"

"I will try, mother, but I am afraid it would take a long time to do that, she loves her husband so much and I am sure she has hoped that he is alive somewhere and will come back to her."