Chapter Ten Part I

 Chapter Ten - To Have and to Hold

David enlisted a year after Liza’s funeral, when it became clear to everyone that the McDonalds had ceased seeing themselves as parents the moment they identified the body of their youngest child; their God-given child. Virginia McDonald had never referred to David as her Adopted Child, but soon David found he wasn’t being referred to at all. To say that Shirley didn’t take the news well was an understatement. 

Mrs Mertz was well used to Shirley’s antics by then –  had even, in an odd way, grown accustomed to them – but the temper tantrums of an entitled teenage girl were just one of many things she had built a career on, and the Shirley who left the house that Friday morning, nose in the air as usual, was not the Shirley that returned.

Mrs Mertz was giving Cora a refresher on polishing when she heard the school bus drive up, and went out to the front hall to meet the girls. Stella always gave her a quick hello and a smile – the two of them enjoyed a pleasant, respectful working relationship these days – but when Mrs Mertz looked out the window and saw Stella practically sprinting up the front walk, she knew something was wrong, and that today’s salutations would be furtive at best. Stella threw open the door and climbed three steps without saying a word. 

‘Stella…Stella? What’s the matter?’ 

Stella threw up her hands and broke into a jog. 

‘Oh boy, you do not want to know!’ 

Seconds later, she was in her room with the door shut, and Mrs Mertz was left to deal with the bobbysoxed-bulldozer that was headed straight for her. Eventually, the screaming and the smashing of expensive pottery attracted Cora, who was having difficulty deciding whether to use the quickest escape route or to stay and see what transpired. 

‘WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU STARING AT, HUH?’ 

Down went another vase. 

‘I believe she is staring at you, and at the mayhem you’ve brought in here with you.’ 

Shirley picked up a china vessel that had been in the family for three generations, then dropped it with very little fanfare. 

‘Oh, that’s what you believe, is it? Well I’ll tell you what I believe, you barren old blow fish; I believe that most of this stuff will be mine one day, so I can do whatever the hell I want with it, and if you don’t like it, I believe you can kiss my ass!’ 

This time, Mrs Mertz stayed where she was. She didn’t raise a hand, or even raise her voice; that was exactly what she was expected to do. The only action she took was to clasp her hands behind her back and wait. The girl was obviously in the grip of some kind of temporary madness, brought on no doubt by having to face real defeat for the first time in her life. It would run its course. 

‘Cora, dear, I think we can afford to dismiss you a little early today. Why don’t you run along home?’ 

‘Oh, yes! I mean…that is…if there’s nothing else you need me for, Mrs…’ 

‘For God’s sake, woman, get out of here!’

Left with a small audience and nothing more to smash, Shirley sat down on the bottom step and wept. Mrs Mertz made no move to sooth her; Shirley was not the sort of girl who either required or responded well to consolation, and that was just fine. Crying, Mrs Mertz once said, was a necessary calmative; there was nothing like flushing out your eyes for seeing things as they really were. When the crying stopped, the nanny brushed powdered porcelain and debris off her skirt and ventured over. 

‘Now,’ she said in a not unsympathetic tone, ‘would you like to tell me what’s led to this?’ 

‘Why,’ Shirley sniffed, ‘you can’t do anything about it.’ 

Mrs Mertz sat down next to her, careful to keep a respectful distance. 

‘Probably not, but I often find things seem less dire when you pass them on to someone else.’ 

She handed the girl a tissue. Shirley took it, dabbed her eyes, and shrugged. 

‘Why not?’ she sighed. ‘You know David McDonald?’ 

‘Little Liza’s brother, yes.’ 

‘He’s joined the army, and I’ll probably never see him again.’

‘And how did you come to that conclusion?’ 

‘My father had people praying for him at home when he shipped out, and he died; David’s folks don’t even know he exists. Nobody’s safe!’ 

‘That isn’t always the case…’ 

‘My father had four kids, and my mother loved him more than anything else in the world, but he died anyway. I feel the same way about David, and now I’ll never get to tell him!’ 

Shirley fell into a crying fit in Mrs Mertz’s arms. Mrs Mertz patted her knee. 

‘Would you like to know what I think?’ 

‘I guess.’ 

‘There aren’t a lot of things I believe in in this world, but the one thing that has never failed me is logic. After your father died, he had a house full of people to miss him, but David doesn’t, correct?’ 

‘Yeah.’ 

‘Yes, dear, not yeah.’ 

‘Yes.’ 

‘Well, by your logic, that’s the very reason he will come home.’ 

Shirley sat up straight, dabbed at her cheeks, and nodded. 

‘I didn’t think about it that way.’ 

‘Emotion does have a way of taking the wheel and forcing logic to take a back seat,’ she smoothed Shirley’s hair and smiled, ‘now go upstairs and take a nice hot bath. Dinner will be ready in an hour, assuming Cora remembered to light the oven before she left.’ 

Shirley laughed. 

‘At least she’s not as scary as our last maid. We could never play tricks on her.’ 

‘Tricks?’ 

Shirley kissed her on the cheek and went upstairs. 

‘Tricks?’ she repeated. ‘What in the world?’ 

She got up and went to the kitchen to see to dinner. Mrs Mertz faith in Shirley’s logic, and Shirley’s new found faith in Mrs Mertz, was validated two years later when David rolled back into town on a train full of other passengers who had gone away boys but returned as men. What made David stand out from his fellow soldiers was the fact that he hadn’t changed. Sure, the other men were as happy to be home as he was, but even the least perceptive among the welcoming crowd could easily spot the conflict that still waged on behind their eyes. For all that he had witnessed and, no doubt, taken part in, David was still the sweet, unassuming guy he had always been. 

Although the platform was full of women longing to mother him, the one woman who had initially volunteered for the task was not there to welcome him home. David’s only home town representative was a seventeen year old girl who he almost didn’t recognize. 

‘Shirley? Wow, you grew up!’ 

He held out his arms and swept her up in a brotherly hug, and Shirley accepted it for now; familial affection was better than no affection at all. 

‘You work fast! Just off the train and you’re already…’ 

When the soldier poked his head far enough out of the train window to get a proper look at the girl David was holding, he clearly recognized his mistake, 

‘…oops! Sorry, pal; I didn’t realize you had a sister.’ 

The soldier tipped his hat to Shirley as the train pulled out and sat back down. David looked more adorably sheepish than she’d ever seen him. 

‘Hal Morgan. I’m pretty sure he left his brains back in Korea.’ 

‘You didn’t tell him about Liza?’ 

‘I don’t know the guy all that well, and I figured being away from his own family was sad enough without telling him my sob story,’ David noticed his old bicycle parked next to Shirley’s, ‘What’s this?’ 

Shirley smiled. 

‘I took it down to the garage and got it serviced. I figured we could ride back home together.’ 

David lightly kicked the tyres. Shirley felt a pang of guilt and stifled it. 

‘I’ll take you through town; they finally built the movie house. Got it done pretty quickly, too. Mrs Mertz never lets me go without Stella. She’s afraid I’ll be seduced by a necking no-goodnick.’ 

David laughed. ‘What about Stella?’ 

Shirley shrugged. 

‘Stella’s as bad as she is. Mrs Mertz has got it into her head that all boys only want one thing. It’s like living with two nannies! I caught myself reading Jane Eyre the other day; I think old might be catching.’ 

David put his leg over the bike. 

‘Well then, I guess we’d better get going while you’re still young.’ 

They rode through town like tourist and tour guide, with Shirley mostly pointing out how little the town had changed since David left. This was to further emphasize the newness of the Marquis Theatre, and to entice him into going there; hopefully not alone. 

‘Wow, they really went all out, didn’t they?’ 

Shirley looked forlornly at the clapboard building with the sign that looked like it was made up of Scrabble tiles. 

‘Doesn’t it just scream modern?’ 

A letter M fell from the sign and landed in a tub of red geraniums just as Shirley hit on the word, and cracked them both up. Shirley caught herself staring; she’d never forgotten what a beautiful smile he had, but that didn’t make it any less dazzling to behold. 

‘They do show some good movies, though,’ she said, pointing to the sign, ‘Sunset Boulevarde’s playing tonight.’ 

David furrowed his brow. 

‘But that came out two years ago.’ Shirley nodded. 

‘That’s how long he’s been playing it.’ 

‘I’m guessing the mayor’s wife chooses what plays here?’ 

‘U-huh. Hey, why don’t we go? My treat!’ 

‘Sorry, but they’re throwing a party for all the G.I’s at the dance hall, and I kind of promised I’d go. Rain check?’ 

‘Sure,’ Shirley smiled, wondering how long she could chew on her inner lip before it bled.

Shirley returned to the house that day with a scheme burning a hole in her pocket. She pulled it out when Stella asked what she was smiling about. 

‘It only goes until midnight; the warden should be asleep by then.’ 

Stella pursed her lips as Shirley tried on another dress, her fourth in the space of an hour. 

‘Why do you call her that? I thought you got along well now.’ 

‘We do.’ 

‘So, why not just ask her if you can go to the party?’ 

‘I can just hear that conversation now: Mrs Mertz, can I please go to a party? It’s full of soldiers who haven’t seen a woman in two years. I’d sooner ask Mama; she’s far gone enough to say yes.’ 

Stella looked down. Shirley stopped preening and sat down on the bed. 

‘Sorry Stell; I didn’t mean it. I just want David to see I’ve grown up, that’s all.’ 

She got up and took her secret cache of make up out of a drawer and started applying it. Stella gaped. 

‘Where’d you get that? I thought Mrs Mertz threw all your war paint away.’ 

‘I got it at the drug store, with my allowance money.’ 

‘Why would you want to get all made up for anyway? Boys are nothing but trouble and…’ 

Shirley blotted her lipstick twice and deposited the tissues down the front of her dress. 

‘Not all boys. Not David.’ 

‘How do you know? Maybe he’s changed.’ 

Shirley patted Stella on the head. 

‘David will never change.’ 

Shirley climbed out the window at ten o’clock, a full hour after Stella and Mrs Mertz went to bed. She’d made the descent dozens of times over the past couple of years, practicing for just such an eventuality as the one she was facing tonight. Stella was right about the old woman – she and Shirley got along great, and it was nice having a den mother around to talk to in lieu of a real one, but Mrs Mertz was making Stella grow old before her time, and Shirley wanted to live. 

She parked her bike at the side of the garage and walked to the dance hall, smoothing out the creases the seat had left on the front of her dress. It was lipstick pink, and she’d saved for it for months. It was supposed to be for prom, but Shirley wasn’t about to waste a thing of such beauty. She had no intention of spending her coming out party in the arms of an awkward, sweaty, boy. 

There may only have been one name on her dance card, but that didn’t prevent her from being yanked onto the dance floor by a grinning idiot as soon as she walked in the door. Her first instinct was to stomp on the man’s toes and run, but then she saw David. He was standing by the refreshment table, talking gaily to a bunch of town girls until a laugh got caught in his throat. He was staring! Not just staring; glaring. Shirley couldn’t tell whether or not David knew the moron who was jutting her about all over the place, but he sure as heck knew her, and he didn’t look too happy to see her here. This wasn’t the reaction Shirley had in mind, but it was still a reaction, and it only intensified as each new dance partner took over from the last. David finally interjected when Alistair Leech, a man whose dancing style befit his name, made his move. 

‘Hey pal, mind if I cut in? This lady’s a friend of mine.’ 

‘Oh yeah? Well, she’s my friend, too.’ 

David took Leech’s hand and removed it from Shirley’s waste, 

‘I’d love it if you let us catch up.’ 

Leech stepped back. 

‘What are friends for?’ 

David took Shirley’s hand. 

‘Buzz off…friend.’ 

When David was satisfied that Leech was at a respectable enough distance – at the other end of the hall – he led Shirley over to the door. 

‘How’d you get here at this time of night?’ 

‘I rode my bike, silly!’ 

David shook his head. ‘You rode your…do you know how many accidents you could’ve gotten into?’ 

‘I ride around town all the time. I could do it with my eyes closed.’ 

‘It’s different at night, and you shouldn’t be here.’ 

‘Why? It’s just a dance.’ 

‘For you, maybe.’ 

‘For Pete’s sake, nothing’s gonna happen to me!’ 

‘That’s right, because I’m not gonna let it. I’m taking you home.’ 

Shirley pulled her arm free. ‘You are not!’

‘You can’t be here!’ 

‘Why?’ 

‘Because these guys are looking at you like you’re Christmas dinner, that’s why, and you’re just a…kid!’ 

David opened his car door and gestured for her to get in. Shirley did so, in silence. Neither of them said a word until David stopped the car at the bottom of Shirley’s driveway. 

‘Night.’ 

Temporarily blinded in one eye by a muddy mascara tear, Shirley fiddled angrily with the door handle. David got out of the car, walked around to the passenger side and opened the door for her. Shirley showed her gratitude by making him wait while she opened her purse and searched for keys she didn’t have and didn’t need. When it finally became apparent that there was nothing to be gained in stalling a man with boundless patience, she closed her purse and got out. 

‘Goodnight.’ 

David seized her arm, swung her around, and kissed her. Although later, on her deathbed, Shirley would look back fondly on this night as being their first date, they didn’t officially go out in public together until the following Saturday. 

They had to make it an afternoon date, to appease Mrs Mertz, but Shirley didn’t mind; this way, she got to spend a half a day with the man she had loved since she was a girl, and everyone fortunate enough to be in town that day got to witness it. The best part, for Shirley at least, was when they were standing in line to buy their movie tickets, because the long wait gave her the opportunity to listen to the wild speculation going on behind them. 

‘That is NOT Shirley Thomas!’ 

‘It is, too! How’d SHE land HIM?’ 

‘She is pretty…’ 

‘All these years, and she finally caught him. How’d she manage that?’ 

‘It’s the money. It has to be the money.’ 

Shirley smiled when they reached the box office, and when David gave her her ticket, she took his arm, stepped on one of Susan Jackson’s clod hoppers, and walked right on by. Susan Jackson, whose feet had to be squeezed into the dainty court shoes she was wearing and were aching as it was, hopped up and down on the non-injured foot. 

‘Evil bitch.’ 

The ticket lady, who hadn’t seen the incident and thus thought the insult was directed at her, took umbrage and closed the ticket window. 

‘I’ve told you before: if you don’t like my service, don’t come here!’ 

By the time they were beginning their second month together, Shirley and David could recite Sunset Boulevard by rote, so Shirley spent the bus ride home from school that Friday eagerly anticipating the weekend when she heard that the mayor would finally be changing the play bill. That changed when she walked in the front door and found Norma Desmond sitting in the parlor. 

‘Hello, darling.’ 

Shirley’s satchel dropped to the floor. Cora darted over and collected it, hung it on the coat rack, then darted back into the kitchen. Dahlia was still beautiful, but something was different. The offhand allure she took for granted was gone, replaced with a honed, calculated glamour that had to be constantly monitored, judging by the way she scrutinized herself in her silver compact mirror. Then there was the cigarette. 

‘When did you start smoking?’ 

Dahlia put the mirror down on the coffee table and put her cigarette in the ashtray that hadn’t been used since the day Aunt Emma made her exit. 

‘A while ago, but never mind all that; come over here and give your mother a kiss.’ 

Shirley did as her mother asked, sitting down on the settee next to Stella, who looked like a deer staring down the barrel of a twelve gage. Dahlia patted both their knees and called to the maid, who kept one eye on the door when she did come shuffling in from her hidey hole. 

‘So glad to be at home with my girls again, Cora. I can’t believe how much they’ve changed. Stella looks so earnest! And Shirley, well she’s practically a woman.’ 

Dahlia forced a smile at this last observation. 

‘Yes, Ma’am,’ Cora smiled back, with just as much effort. 

‘We are going to have a very special dinner tonight, in honor of my return. I want four courses, I want the silverware polished, and I want the best wine in the cellar.’ 

‘Even for the…’ Cora stammered, gesturing to the girls. 

‘No,’ Dahlia sighed, ‘I will not be serving alcohol to my minor children. They will have water, and I’ll need you to set an extra place; we’ll be entertaining a guest this evening.’ 

‘Yes Ma’am,’ Cora blushed. 

‘Now go, make the preparations.’ 

Shirley and Stella looked at one another. Both of them were full of questions, but it was Stella who elected herself spokesperson. 

‘Who’s the guest, Mama?’ 

Dahlia smiled. Shirley, old enough to remember her father and the way her mother glowed whenever he entered a room, quietly despaired. 

‘I was wondering which of you would be polite enough to ask; thank you, Stella. His name is Martin, but the two of you will call him Doctor Wagner. He took care of me when I was ill, and I think the least we can do is to show him how hospitable we can be.’ 

Shirley and Stella didn’t know where to look. 

‘And the least you girls can do is to be charming,’ she looked at Shirley, ‘I realize he isn’t a man in uniform, but you’ll just have to do your best.’ 

Shirley’s eyes widened. 

‘How did you know about?’ 

Dahlia re-lit her cigarette. ‘The whole town knows, it seems. I don’t blame you, sweetheart; he always was a lovely boy, but the life of a soldier’s wife isn’t an easy one and, frankly, I don’t think you have the wherewithal to endure it.’ 

Tears welled in Shirley’s eyes. Dahlia was unshaken. 

‘You’ll hate me for a while but, in time, you’ll come to understand I was right. Besides, you’re a very pretty girl with a sizable inheritance; there will be other boys.’ 

‘But I don’t want any other boys!’ 

Dahlia took a drag on her cigarette and hastily exhaled. 

‘The subject is closed.’ 

Shirley ran upstairs to her room and slammed the door. Stella was smart enough not to follow her. She let the dust settle before she broached the other subject that was weighing on her mind. 

‘Mama, will Mrs Mertz be staying here?’ 

Dahlia shook her head and stubbed out her cigarette as if she was putting the lid on her daughter’s curiosity once and for all. 

‘It isn’t as though the woman was suited to the position, and at any rate, you girls are getting too old for a nanny. Mother’s home now.’

Stella accepted Dahlia’s hug, and returned it with internal reservations; Dahlia was back, alright, and she’d brought Aunt Emma with her. The doorbell rang at six, and Dahlia gave the girls a final appraisal. 

‘Stella, you look…very nice. Like a young librarian.’ 

Stella chose to pretend this was a compliment – she liked looking like a librarian. 

‘Shirley, Doctor Wagner is never going to notice how pretty you are if you glower at him like that! This is a very important evening for me.’ 

She stood between the girls and put her arms around their shoulders, then impatiently gave Cora the nod to open the door. Doctor Martin Wagner walked in on a family portrait that Norman Rockwell himself would have struggled to conjure. 

‘Martin!’ Dahlia beamed. ‘I’m so pleased you could come!’ 

‘I wouldn’t have missed it for all the wine in Italy,’ he joked. 

The two of them exchanged social kisses, then an embrace that lasted too long for Shirley and Stella’s liking. 

‘And these must be your girls. You weren’t kidding when you said they were beautiful!’ 

Doctor Wagner was full of compliments, for everything from Cora’s serving skills to the decor, to say nothing of the barrage of praise he lavished on Dahlia. Somewhere around the fiftieth or fifty first gush, he raised his glass. 

‘A toast, to Dahlia, the brilliant, dazzling woman who continues to pleasantly surprise me every single day. I’ve never met anyone like you, and I don’t believe I ever will.’ 

Dahlia raised her glass and mouthed a thank you. The girls were too astonished to move, until Dahlia made a toast of her own. 

‘To Doctor Wagner…Martin, for entering my life at just the right time with your magic mirror, and showing me my true self. It’s due to your dedication that I know who I am, and who I want to be.’ 

Shirley raised her glass along with the others, but waited until their mouths were full before she addressed the guest. 

‘And now we all know who our mother is, why don’t you tell us who you are, and what you’re really doing here?’ 

‘Shirley!’ Dahlia spluttered. ‘Martin, I’m terribly sorry.’ 

‘Don’t be,’ Doctor Wagner chuckled, ‘we couldn’t have done it without her.’ 

He turned to face the girls. 

‘The reason your mother arranged this get together was to have you girls get to know me better because, well,’ he looked at Dahlia, ‘I intend to be a part of all of your lives for a very long time.’ 

Now it was Shirley’s turn to splutter. The doctor chuckled again. 

‘I suppose we did spring it on you rather suddenly.’ 

‘As long as someone’s happy.’ Shirley threw back her chair and left the room. 

Dahlia eventually broke the uncomfortable silence that followed the slight by blurting out praise for the child she wasn’t ashamed of. 

‘It’s nice to know I can count on one of my children to forget she’s a teenager just once and be happy for me.’ 

Doctor Wagner dismissed this with a wave. 

‘It’s all come as rather a shock, I expect. I’m sure Stella and I will be fine down here if you want to check on her.’ 

Dahlia hovered. 

‘Honestly, darling, it’s fine. The sooner you’re gone, the sooner you’ll be back.’ 

Dahlia walked casually until she reached the bottom of the stairs, then broke into a curious half run, half skip until she vanished into Shirley’s room. Stella watched her go, then honed her gaze on the table, hoping that by staring into the wood grain, she’d successfully avoid the good doctor’s attention. It didn’t work. 

‘So tell me, Stella, how’s school?’ 

‘Fine, thank you.’ 

‘I bet you have lots of friends.’ 

Stella started to shrug, then froze. 

‘Not as many as Shirley does.’ 

Doctor Wagner smiled. ‘I find its better to have one or two close friends than a dozen hangers-on.’ 

Stella nodded. 

‘You know,’ said Doctor Wagner, ‘I’d like to be your friend, if that’s alright with you.’ 

Stella nodded again. 

‘Wonderful,’ Doctor Wagner breathed. 

Dahlia flitted downstairs after a brief but loud conversation with her eldest daughter, who didn’t accompany her.