Re-encounter in the Vortex, by Mercurio

[domniki]

REENCOUNTER IN THE VORTEX

CHAPTER ONE

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Winds of War

by Mercurio

 




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Two years had passed since that wonderful reunion at Pony's home. Many things had changed but still some others had remained the same. The small orphanage in the green valley, the diligent work of the two women who were the soul of the place, the always-growing fortune of the Audreys and the everlasting noise of the streets of Chicago had not varied a bit. However, the life of our friends had gone through some important changes.




William Albert had taken full possession of his fortune and was leading the Audreys' businesses with all the wisdom and success that Mrs. Aylo Audrey always desired. Archie had decided to enter University and was majoring in Law, much to the great pleasure of Annie's parents who were very happy with their future son in law. Annie herself had also made her own improvements. She was without a question, the lady her mother always dreamt of for her. Sweet by nature and refined in manners thanks to the careful education she had received, she had become a graceful creature with beautiful eyes and astonishing figure. More than one young man of the Chicago high society would have loved to try his chances with her, but unfortunately, Annie and Archie had been an issue for so long that nobody doubted that they would marry as soon as he finished his studies.

 


Patty was still living in Florida with her grandmother but every summer she would travel all the way to Chicago to spend a few weeks with the friends who had come to be the closest she had ever had. She had never been beautiful, but God had graced her with a sweet temper and a special kindness that made her attractive to everyone and men were not the exception. However, no man had taken the place that Stear had left empty, and she was not in a hurry to find a substitute for she had learnt that such things should never be forced.

 


Liza Loka, was now a well known and active member of the Chicago jet-set. Tall and slender with killing eyes and daring smile she spent her time in balls, soirees, teas, and all sort of useless social events. Men were always after her not only for her beauty or money but especially because she had become a bimbo of reputation. She had decided to live it up without restrictions to make up for the two boys she never had... Anthony and Terry, of course. And nobody was going to stop her from enjoying herself the way she wanted. Only one thing bothered her very deeply in her obscure soul and it was her impossibility to take revenge on the one her heart had hated with all her forces, for that person had a very powerful protector she did not dare to defy.

 


On the contrary, Neil had made of himself a shameless alcoholic who despite all the attempts Albert had made, kept himself lost in the bottom of a bottle of whisky. He had never got over the rejection he had suffered and perhaps never would, especially when the object of his affections was totally out of his reach.

 


For, my friends, now, more than ever before Candice White Audrey was the personification of freedom and independence. She accepted to keep the name of her foster family as a graceful act of sympathy towards the man she loved as the older brother she never had. Occasionally, she would go with him to social meetings or great galas in which it was chic and necessary to be seen for the wellbeing of the Audrey's business and reputation. But besides those rare occasions she was still the humble and sweet girl she had always been.

 


She had decided to keep her old apartment and live there on her own despite all the fuss Mrs. Audrey had made about a lady living by herself. But not happy with only that she had insisted in keeping her job as a nurse. Now, after long time of working hard to help her boss to conquer alcoholism, she had managed to rehabilitate the man and they both were working in a large hospital in which they had been accepted without Alberts help. Despite all the sincere desires the young man had to help his protegee and the good old doctor, Candy insisted in finding a way out on her own; and she had, once more, got the things she wanted by herself.

 


Candy was now 18 years old and the naive beauty that had captivated the three young Audreys, back in the days of the Lakewood mansion, had matured into a breathtaking woman with soft voluptuous curves, dazzling smile and eyes to die for. The freckles in her nose had almost totally disappeared leaving just a few pinky spots that graced her face with a candid look. Her manners had softened but kept the firm moves of a person who had practiced sports regularly, something that was not common in the women of her time. But then again many things were not common in the most famous and eccentric heiress of one of the richest families in the United States.

 


Grandmother Aylo Audrey was particularly worried about Candy's single status and without a formal fiancee. She was afraid the girl could choose someone not deserving of the family's prestige and fortune. For her it was a terrible thing that William Albert had allowed her to break her so called engagement with Neil. It would have been, after all, so convenient for both families, but Albert had made up his mind so firmly on that issue that she had lost total hope on the match.

 


Albert, on his own, was kind of worried for Candy's loneliness but she looked so sure of what she wanted for her life, that he could not deny her desire to live on her own. Inside his heart Albert hoped that his little one would someday find the love she had lost twice... for she, more than any of them- he thought - deserved such blessing.

 


As the year of 1917 began, Albert's worries were drawn to other issues. The situation between the United States and Germany had reached a very dangerous point. Two years had passed since the sinking of the Lusitania by the German Navy, which resulted in the death of 128 American citizens. Since then things had gone even worse and just a couple of month before, on February 1917, President Wilson had broken off diplomatic relationships with Germany. Therefore, the scene was ready for an unavoidable event and the fear of eminent war was in the air As a rich banker he knew his fortune could play an important role in the conflict. However, he never dared to think how the historical events were going to affect the life of his family until it was to late.

 


It was a sunshiny spring morning when Katherine Johnson entered the nurses' lounge in a rush that was quite unusual in her. Her cheeks were bright red and she was nearly out of breath. Candy was sitting there chatting cheerfully with another nurse when Katherine interrupted their talk with her unexpected arrival.

 


The blond girl did not have to ask anything for every detail was written in her colleague's face: United States had finally declared war on Germany. Candy knew very well that solemn look in Katherine's face and also could figure out what the event meant for the country and for her. . . .

 


"Candy..." Katherine said for the third time . "Are you listening to me? Aren't you going to say anything about?"

 


"Oh sorry, " answered Candy, coming back from her own thoughts. "I was just... kind of, " she doubted for a second. "I' m afraid I have something to do girls, would you excuse me?" And immediately she abandoned the room leaving two puzzled nurses behind.

 


"What came over her? She did not even comment on the bad news?"said Katherine.

 


"Well, I think she really got upset with the news, in fact. She was quite well before you came, "replied the second nurse.

 


"Does she have someone to fear for with this war,"said Katherine with a curious look in her eyes.

 


"A love thing, you mean? No I don't really think so. She is a very sweet girl and everything but very hermetic when it comes to her private life. I' m afraid she is not quite interested in guys right now."

 


The conversation continued while a blond in a very nervous state, continued to run along the nearby park. She ran to the newspaper stand to buy a real testimony of the event she was sure was going to bring a new twist to her life...could it be?

 


It was clearly printed on the first page. . . The morning of April the 6, 1917 the President Woodrow Wilson had declared war and was already asking for volunteers to defend the Nation. Candy's fingers crushed the paper with a strange mixed of fear, courage, excitement and even a weird sensation she could not name at that moment. It was as if her own destiny was calling her loudly... calling her for an appointment agreed in advanced long time ago. She had been given special training for such a moment and now it might be the time when her training will have to prove worthy. The memory of Flammy, who was still working as a volunteer in the fronts along with the unforgettable remembrance of Stear came to her mind. Was she going to be able to leave her peaceful life in Chicago where she had the love and company of her closest friends, where she could always go back to Pony's Home for support and strength? Was she going to be brave enough to face the horrors of war?

 


A young couple with a toddler passed by in front of her. The woman was radiant with one hand clutching her husband's arm while the man used his other arm to carry the little boy. Candy saw how they walked along the park paths until they disappeared from her sight. They seemed so happy and unaware of the eminent danger the country was going through. She then thought that the young mother had two powerful reasons to stay safe and well in America while the whole Army was already preparing to defend the country. She had a family to look after... but her?. . . Who is waiting for you back home, Candice White?

 


"What are you saying?"Screamed Albert in disbelief. "She left her apartment without saying a word to anybody...Not even me?"

 


"I'm afraid that is right Sir," answered a very ashamed George Johnson. "This morning the guard in turn realized she had not gone out of her apartment since the day before. As it was a normal working-day he wondered if something was going wrong, so he went down to ask the landlord, and it was then when they both found out this letter she left, Sir."

 


Long time ago, since Candy had decided that she would continue living in her apartment in downtown Chicago Albert set up guards that took care of the young woman without letting her know of this precaution. William Albert knew very well that Candy would have been annoyed, had she known she was watched in that way, but the town was becoming a violent and dangerous city and a wealthy heiress was always a temptation for kidnappers and all sort of vicious people. Therefore, as the head of the family, Albert did not want to take any risk.

 


However, despite of all these measures, his secretary was now informing him that the girl had somehow disappeared just right on her guard's nose.

"Give me the note,"said Albert huskily and was visibly angry.

 


What his eyes read then was beyond any of his most dreadful dreams:

 


Dear Albert, Annie and Archie,

I'm really sorry to leave you all without saying a word but I know you will forgive me sooner or later. I have my reasons to do such a thing. There's a part of me that wants to stay with you and all the ones I love but the other part is pulling me to accomplish a duty I cannot neglect. I want you to know that I've meditated on this decision for a long time and it is by no means just a result of a vane impulse. Some years ago when I was in the NurseSchool I received a special training to prepare myself as a military nurse. In those years the war had just started and it only seemed a far away ghost; back then we were not very sure if it could ever reach us. But it did indeed, and it already took away one of our dearest, to whom our family will always remember with the deepest love. It is for his undying memory that I must not mishear the calling of my duty. Our country needs my services and I' m not going to dishonor Stear's example. I know that my departure will leave you in sorrow and worry. You have alway been very kind and caring. However, I have to go, but I trust that the Lord will be with me all the way to Europe and he will also protect me during the trials that are waiting for me over there. Please Albert, do not be mad at me. I know you disapprove all this war affair for you have always been a pacifist, but think that I'm not going as a soldier to kill but as a nurse to save lives. Archie do not be afraid because I'm going to return well and safe and if you do not take care good care of Annie you will hear of me dandy boy. Annie, promise me you';ll be a strong girl. Miss Pony and Sister Lyn will need you more than ever. Pray for me and explain these things to those two dear women.

Love you all,


Candice W. Audrey

 


P.S. Albert I'm really sorry to tell you that you just waste your money on those guards of yours. They normally fall asleep after midnight.


Two thick tears ran down Albert's cheeks when he finished the letter. If he were to judge when Candy when had actually been seen last by the guards, it would already have bee too late for any attempts to stop her. By then she would already have been in a boat on her way to France with the first platoon sent by the USA government. Albert felt that part of his life was again broken into pieces. It seemed he had lost his beloved sister, the one destiny had given him in a way to make for the other sister he had lost when he was just a child. Will he be able to recover her? If only she weren't so stubborn and at least for once in her life, she would think of herself instead of thinking of others.

 


"Miss Flammy Hamilton is the head nurse in charge, you will have to follow her orders faithfully,"said the director of the Hospital Saint Jaques with a slight French accent to the newcomers . He then turned to address Flammy, "Hamilton, these are the new girls that just arrived from the USA. I hope you can help them to adapt and start work as soon as possible."

 


Then man left the room leaving the nurses with the tall brunette. Flammy's cold eyes inspected the new nurses and her heart stopped when she managed to see a familiar face with deep green eyes that smiled at her with a kindness she just couldn't understand.

 


"It's nice to see you again Flammy,"said Candy with low voice when Flammy came near her.

 


"I'm afraid I cannot say the same," replied the brunette with dry voice and without any further comment continued inspecting the group. "I really hope you are all sure about the decision you made when you set your minds on coming here. You will soon find out that all the negative things you've heard about the experiences of military nurses are not quite true. In fact, the reality goes beyond anything you could have imagined there, in your safe and dull jobs in the States. The reality is, ladies, a lot worse."

 


And Flammy went on and on with a long list of duties, rules and recommendations. All the new girls looked at each other amazed with the coldness of such a reception. Flammy's words were clear, distant and freezing, not a hint of sympathy or care, just a quite articulated talk that left no doubts on who was in charge and how she expected the job to be done. The expression in her face did not change, nor the tone of her voice. If any nurse in the crew was hoping that this whole war thing was not going to be so hard after all, then Flammy's welcoming talk killed the last remains of that weak hope. However, one only heart among the group was not impressed or really affected by Flammy's attitude. Candy knew very well all that was merely a performance. Behind that apparent cold-hearted woman there was a shy and lonely child and this time she was not going to fall in the trap of her faked toughness.

 


"This time my dear colleague,"said Candy to herself, "I will find the way to go through those walls you have taken so long to build up around your soul. I will not take for granted this new opportunity that life gives me now." A light of determination crossed her green eyes at the same time Flammy ended her speech.

 


That night Candy sat down by the window of the room that she was going to share with an older nurse named Julienne. There was nothing around that could be considered a luxury. Actually, the room was rather dull and its inhabitants could have been depressed easily just by its looks. Had Candy not gone through even more difficult days before, she would have been blue and home sick by this time. But she had made up her mind on keeping a high spirit and she was full of hopes in this new undertaken she had started. Neither the rudeness of Flammy's words nor the poverty of the room could take away the excitement she felt in her heart and the beauty of the full moon that appeared in the evening sky. As long as should could appreciate the beauty of God's creation, despite the size of her problems, Sister Lyn had once told her, there was hope to keep on.

 


A truck full of soldiers with the USA flag passed by the street just under her window. Inside the truck a pair of dark blue eyes were lost in the mist of the night. The man with the blue eyes felt a sudden pain in his heart when the truck went past the hospital. The pain vanished in a couple of seconds, but left him with a weird sensation of loss he could not understand.

Candy then close the window wondering what that sudden pain in her own heart could had been.

 


Days went by very fast in Saint Jaques, but as Flammy promised, none of them was easy or quiet. Wounded people flooded the pavilions, surgery rooms and even the corridors. Pain and despair were in the air for each human to breathe, whereas very little comfort could be found within the confusion.

 


Candy sometimes had to believe that she had used her last drop of strength giving stitches, cleaning beds or working long endless hours in surgery. Nevertheless, when she felt almost faint, the strong and determined figured of Flammy appeared around as an incredible reminder of the spirit both women had been taught back in the old days of their training with Mary Jane. Then, Candy would recover her usual cheerful mood and keep with her work enlightening those surroundings with a warm smile. There, where Flammy's efficiency was only able to help bodies to recover from illness, Candy's charms could bring back hope to those whose hearts were even sicker than their own bodies.

 


"Together, they could make the perfect nurse," Mary Jane had once said to herself. And if she had seen her old pupils in action she would have congratulated herself for the good results. For indeed the work of the two young women complimented so well that, despite the limitations the hospital was suffering. Everything managed to work satisfactorily even in the confusion that very often reigned around.

 


Candy realized it and so she tried to work with Flammy as much as possible, doing her best to ignore the infamous temper of her old classmate. Unfortunately, Flammy did not see the fact and that made things much harder for Candy who had to endure Flammy's rudeness.

 


"Are you new in this business?"said Flammy with an angry voice. "This bandage is too tight that way. You'd better loosen it right now or you will cause this poor man more troubles than he already has."

 


"Yes Flammy, I'll do it right now," replied Candy with soft tone.

 


"Don't talk that much and work faster! You still have tons of things to finish before the end of your turn," Flammy managed to add while she was leaving to continue with her daily checking.

 


"How can you stand her? " asked the man to whom Candy was fixing the bandages when Flammy left.

 


Candy shrunk her shoulders and gave him one of those sweet smiles a million dollars worth. "Well, the secret is never to take her personally and accept her the way she is."

 


"Yeah, a bitter pain in . . . the neck," finished the man holding his bad language... for how could a reasonable man swear so badly in the presence of the blond angel in front of him?

 


"Oh sergeant O'Connor, my pal is not a bad person. You' d appreciate her value if you got to know her better. Deep in her heart she's got a noble soul. Maybe it is too deep for people to see it, I think," she insisted with a giggle.

 


"I only tell you something... if that friend of yours does not manage to soften her ways she'll end up as a lonely spinster."

 


"You're an impossible man , Mr. O'Connor,"answered Candy with a laugh.

"I agree with him ," said the voice of a younger man.

 


Candy was now next to this third man cleaning an awful wound he had in the arm.

 


"On the contrary," continued the young one. "I don't think you'll lack of guys going after a sweet cute girl as you,"he added with a smirk in his lips.

"Oh, you're a flirt Francois,"replied Candy, "I won't allow you guys to be so hard on Flammy. You both should be worrying about yourselves. If you don't sweeten your temper no girl would want to go out with you... and that includes nurses,"concluded Candy with a giggle as she left the room.

 


At that moment a young doctor came into the room. He had been witnessing the whole scene. His gray eyes had followed every movement of the blond while his ears had registered every single word that her lips had uttered.

 


"Bad luck this time," joked O'Connor addressing Francois Girard.

 


"Yeah, but one always tries, you know, especially with a girl so lovely, huh?"

 


"But this one is special, Mr. Girard. She's not a fish that's easy to catch," said the doctor joining the conversation . "... and a very rare one to find."

 


"Yes indeed Dr. Bonnot,"accepted Francois and the conversation died at this point leaving the three men alone with their own thoughts.


Yves Bonnot had met Candy since the very first day she arrived in the hospital. He was having a brief brake in the doctors lounge and was going out of the restroom when the director of the hospital came in with the group of new nurses. Hidden behind the restroom door he heard Flammy' speech --- something he had already heard a few times before --- and with careful eyes he examined the reaction of the newcomers as the dry brunette spoke. One face out of the group caught his attention immediately. At first it was the exquisite beauty of a creamy face with a snub little nose and incredibly big eyes that captivated him, but just a few minutes after the first impression he could see something else beyond the fair looks. As Flammy continued talking Yves had fun looking at the consternation that took place in the new nurses' faces. Yet, in the blond girl's face not a trace of fear or hesitation could be seen. Instead, Yves was able to read an unusual determination in those deep green windows of her eyes.

 


"Cela c'est courager," (that's courage in French) he said to himself pleased to find in one single woman two things that rarely go together, beauty and character.

 


Since that moment he had followed the girl's movements with interest. He was, of course, willing to know her better, but he soon found that the way to her heart, despite her usual kindness, was a very difficult one.

 


Yves had had a couple of not too pleasant experiences with women along his life, so despite his first undeniable attraction to the girl he kept himself anonymous without knowing how to approach the young woman. In that time he observed her carefully. Always hiding from somewhere he could see a thousand little details. He learnt by heart every single feature of her face, the line of her fine nose, the soft pink in her cheeks sparkled with almost invisible freckles, every little twist of her curly mane and the million sparks that seemed to cover her hair when the sun shone on it, all her amazing repertoire of dazzling smiles and the different inflections of her voice. He also learnt that she was without a question a human being graced with the kindest heart and a very dare spirit that rarely gave up. He found himself so fascinated in this almost sick tendency to stare in awe behind anything that could hide him from her sight, that spent entire weeks trying to find out how to actually meet the girl. But the occasion came almost by accident and a lot sooner than Yves could have planned.

 


It was not what can be called a beautiful day. In fact, it had rained the whole morning leaving ponds all over the sidewalks. The city had a melancholic look under the gray summer sky that matched well with its inhabitants' mood. More than three years had passed since the war had started and the country was already tired of enduring pain and constant loss. Nevertheless, despite the gloomy sight, Yves was enjoying his free day and had gone out to walk his dog, a young large German Shepherd that walked restlessly by its master's side.

 


Yves sat down on one of the park benches thinking about the changes the city had gone through since the beginning of the war. Paris was still the queen of the big metropolises but even when its buildings were safe and well the atmosphere had changed dramatically. Soldiers could be seen everywhere, people walked along the streets with a silent and worried expression in their faces and even in the Quartier Latin, the neighborhood of students and artists, the usual air of effervescent agitation seemed to had lost its energy. In other words, the possibility of the German Army invading the beautiful and cherished city, pride of the whole nation, was a ghost that haunted everybody' s mind.

 


The dog stood up with a sudden move that brought the young man back from his reveries. Before he could react the big animal was out of his reach running after a yellow cat that was already rushing with all the strength of its four legs to flee from a fight that the poor cat would surely lose.

 


Yves had loosed the leash so he had not other choice but running after his dog, which did not pay attention to its master's angry calls. In a few seconds the three of them were running out of the park and towards the nearby street in front of the amused pedestrians. On the other side of the same street a young woman had stopped her walk to buy an ice cream to a street vendor. The cat in its despair saw a good shelter under the vendor's stand, and before the girl could notice what was happening, the dog and the cat were running in circles around her legs making her fall down all tangled with the big dog and the leash. Meanwhile the cat, seeing a good chance to save its life, ran away.

 


Yves saw the scene from a distance and sped up to help the poor victim of his own carelessness. When he arrived the girl was still on the floor trying to untangle herself from the dog's leash, the ice cream was already melting on the pavement and the dog was waving its tail with an innocent expression in its face.

 


"Mon Dieu, oh mon Dieu ,"( Oh my God) he said as he approached the girl. Je suis desole Mademoiselle. Je ( I' m so sorry Miss)....." . But then, he froze unable to utter another word, in any language, when he realized that the pair of greenest eyes he had ever seen were looking at him with sympathy, not a shade of annoyance in their watery depths.

 


"C'est bien Monsieur, ( that' s O.K. Sir)," she answered in a hesitant French.

 


"Are you fine Miss?" he finally managed to say while offering his hand to the young woman.

 


"Oh, you speak English," she remarked with a gasp.

 


"Yes madam, but please, are you fine I would never forgive myself. I mean this was all my fault, the dog, you see...it's mine I' m afraid."

 


"I guessed it by the way it looks at you, but do not worry I am quite well sir. However I can not say the same about my poor ice cream," she giggled.

 


"If you allow it, I would be very pleased to get you another one. I think it is the least thing I can do for all the annoyance you went through because of this stupid dog," he added with a severe look at the German Shepherd.

"Well, but only if you promise me not to be mad at the poor boy," she said smiling widely and he returned the smile trying to remain collected.

 


Oh my God, he thought. It is she, it can't be, it can't be... I had imagined that it would be different...something more....romantic?...What am I saying?... I must be crazy...Anyway, I have to think clearly. What's my next move...Come on silly, think fast...

 


Yves paid the vendor for the ice cream and the man smiled to the young man when he realized how nervous Yves was by the shake of his hands.

 


"Tenez Monsieur ( here you are, Sir)," said the vendor and then added in a whisper, "Vous avez de la chance aujourd' hui ( you are lucky today)."

 


"Merci," Ives said not knowing what to answer at the man' s comment.

 


"Here you are Mademoiselle," he finally said, turning to the girl besides him, who, the reader surely already knows, was Candy herself.


"Thank you Mr...."

 


"Bonnot, Yves Bonnot, Mademoiselle," he added.

 


"I'm Candice White Audrey, but everyone calls me Candy ,"she said, giving her free hand to the man and thinking that he had a cute smile.

 


"Enchante."

 


Soon the couple and the infamous dog were walking together along the narrow street. Yves mentioned he was a doctor in Saint Jacques hospital and pretended to be surprised when Candy told him she was a nurse in the same place. Once they reached that point the conversation became more fluent and Yves learned that she was from a place in the North of the United States, that she had graduated as a nurse the year the war started and was, thank God, single. On his own he told her that he had always lived in Paris. He had studied Medicine in the Sorbone and finished MedicalSchool just the year before. Candy also learned that he lived with his parents, being the youngest of a family of four children. By then all of them were married, his only brother being a lieutenant in the French Navy.

 


"I would like to make it up for today's incident ," he said after a while of thinking in a way to ask her out. "Why don't you let me show you the city? I' m sure you hadn't had any time to see it yet, and it is a pity because we have the most beautiful one in the whole world."

 


"I'd really love to but ..."she looked then at her watch , "Good Heavens! I'm already late you know. But. . . well, the truth is that one of my fellow nurses invited me to meet her family today. I was on my way to her place when your dog.... " she laughed, "Well, you already know."

 


"I see, then maybe another time,"he said disappointed.

 


"Sure, thanks anyway for the nice conversation. I guess I will see you at the hospital one of these days,"she said at the same time she offered him her hand.

 


"Of course,"he replied, and then to himself--Make no mistake on that, girl.


The girl walked away in a hurry leaving a man in cloud nine, with a big dog by his side.

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Dear Candy lovers you have just read the first chapter of a fanfiction piece that has be in my head for 15 years since I first saw the last episode of the T.V. series. Finally, thanks to Nila and Elaine, I'm able to actually write it. Even when I had tried to do it before I left the project aside. After all, who cares to write something that nobody is going to read? Now, thanks to INTERNET I finally found a public for it.

 


The story will include the major characters and some new ones. So far you had already met Yves Bonnot, who will play an important role in the story. By this time you must be wondering: What about Terri? Do not worry, it will take long to actually reencounter our beloved actor in this story, but you will find hints of his presence all along the first five chapters... Have you detected anyone in this one? . . . And, of course the so longed reencounter will soon of later take place. . . when we get to the real vortex.

 


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NB. I first read this story at http://www.candyterry.com

 

[domniki]

CHAPTER TWO

 




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Letters from Candy

 




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In the following days to Candy’s departure Albert had to face the hard job of telling the family the bad news. After a lot of thinking he made up his mind and called his closest relatives, including the Lokas, and Annie to let them know what had happened.

 


When he entered his office in the immense mansion of Chicago everyone was already waiting for him. Grandmother Aylo was sitting in a refined-leathered armchair, which was her favorite one in that room. Next to her, Archie and Annie were together in a luxurious dark blue loveseat. Liza and her mother were sitting one next to the other on a matching sofa near the large window covered with heavy silky curtains. Mr. Loka and Neil were standing near the two women, impatience drawn in the oldest man’s face while the latter had his sight lost in the nothingness of the window’s glass. Liza was busy in fixing her hair looking at herself in her compact’s mirror with great concern; after all, a girl should not waste the opportunity of impressing the most powerful Audrey, who was by the way a very good looking man too.

 


"I’m glad to see you all," began Albert saying for himself a secret prayer.

 


"Well, let me tell you that I canceled an important appointment, so I expect this meeting to be worthy," said Mr. Loka.

 


"I’ll try to be brief, then," replied Albert to his uncle.

 


"But first I’d like to know why Candy was not included," asked Archie with a slight irritation in his voice, "you know she’s part of the family."

 


"Only legally," remarked Liza nonchalantly.

 


"Well," said Albert ignoring the girl’s comment, "I did have a very powerful reason. In fact, this meeting is to inform you all about something with relation to Candy."

 


At that moment Neil suddenly came back from wherever his mind was wondering and focused his clear eyes on the older man with special attention. Albert sat down in his own armchair behind the large wooden desk and invited the two standing men to take seats. Then, he paused for a few seconds asking God for courage to start.

 


"The fact is that," he finally began, "Candy will not be living in Chicago for a while."

 


"What?!!" asked Annie, opening her mouth for the first time in the evening.

 


"She never told me anything about moving."

 


"Oh my, oh my, it seems that our Candy is full of surprises," added Liza with a smirk.

 


Again Albert ignored the irony of her voice and continued his talk.

 


"The truth is that she did not say a word to anyone, including me."

 


"But why would she do that?" asked Archie, preoccupation reflected in his face.

 


"I would appreciate that you all keep calm with all the things I’m about to tell you," said Albert.

 


"Why do we have to stay calm William Albert?" Asked Mrs. Loka talking for the first time. "Is it so serious that she moved?"

 


"Well aunt, everybody ... Candy left Chicago because she decided to volunteer as a nurse in the U.S.A. Army."

 


A mute gasp came out of Annie’s mouth and Albert paused again to regain strength.

 


"She must be on her way to France by now."

 


Albert stopped to see everybody’s reaction, secretly thankful he had already managed to say the worst part of the terrible news.

 


"What do you mean by that?" said Neil with angry tone and clenching fist.

 


"You are telling us that she is in her way to her own death just like Stear?"

 


"Stop that Neil," interrupted Mr. Loka when he realized his son’s anger.

 


"No father I’m not going to stop," he said to his father and then turned again to address Albert. "How come you did not do anything to stop such foolishness? Weren’t you supposed to be her tutor and protector?"

 


"I am indeed," answered Albert in the most collected way he could. "But she did not mention her plans to anyone. She moves very fast when she wants."

 


"You are such a failure, William Albert. I don’t know how can you be in charge of the family!" Answered Neil in great frustration almost ready to hit Albert and he would have surely done so if his father and his being a little drunk had not stopped him.

 


Silence reigned in the room for a few seconds that seemed endless. Only Annie’s quiet sobs could be heard. She had hidden her face in her hands while Archie, oblivious to everyone, was motionless and dumbfounded at not being able to comfort his girlfriend.

 


‘This girl is a burden to our family," said grandmother Aylo, breaking the silence.

 


"No, that is not true, grandmother," replied Albert firmly. "I’m not ashamed of her decision, but utterly proud of her courage and selflessness. She has acted as the great woman she already is and even when it hurts us very deeply we have to accept it. I called you here because I thought you all had the right to know about this and because I wanted to set things clearly. Candy is on her way to France for the wellbeing of our men, and if the press or anyone asks me about the matter I will talk about it only with pride. If you do feel ashamed for that it only tells me how blind you are to real virtue."

 


"I will not hear you anymore," said Neil. "If you do not try to stop her I will."

The young man, moving as fast as his state of intoxication allowed him, left the room slamming the door.

 


"Neil" Mrs. Loka called angrily. "Come back here right now!"

 


"It is too late aunt, he will not be able to do anything. I already tried myself," said Albert. "He will soon find out that we are all helpless in this matter, let him go."

 


Mrs. Loka sighed in resignation and looked for her husband’s eyes for support.

 


"Now I would appreciate if you left me alone with Archie and Annie," asked Albert addressing to grandmother Aylo and the Lokas.

 


"Of course dear, no problem," replied Liza with a strange expression in her face.

 


"Is she...kind of… happy?" asked Albert to himself. For indeed the girl’s face had gained a new light since the moment she learned her old rival was gone far and away.

 


In her obscure heart Liza Loka was merry.

 


"I’m so fortunate today," she thought. "With a little bit of luck a lost bullet will release me from the burden of her presence for ever."

 


The Lokas and Mrs. Audrey came out of the room silently. Then, when the three friends remaining in the room were completely alone, only then did Archie finally discharged what he had kept in his heart.

 


"What are we going to do Albert?" He said with an angry voice, despair evident in every word. "Do you realize what this could mean? Don’t you know the terrible things people can suffer in a war? Things that make me shake in fear by only thinking of . . . "

 


"I know all that very well. I’ve been there. Did you forget it?" answered Albert vehemently, not able to control himself anymore.

 


"But she is a woman. Have you realized that she could be..."

 


"Stop, Archie, please," cried Annie letting her full sobs go out her throat with all the sorrow in her heart. "Oh Albert, this is my entire fault, my fault."

 


"What do you mean Annie?" asked Albert, his heart full of compassion in front of the evident pain in the fragile girl’s soul.

 


"I’m her closest friend and.. . . I failed to know her intentions, I should have read it in her eyes, in the way she looked at me and hugged me tightly the last time I saw her...But I was too blind...I...I could have stopped her then."

 


"Nonsense Annie!" Shouted Archie addressing Annie with an unusual angry tone, "Nothing has ever stopped that silly girl. Nothing and nobody. Tell me, were you able to stop her when she left St. Paul’s? Did she say anything about it? No, of course not, she did not, and even if she had done so, it wouldn’t have been of any help, because none of us has ever had the power to persuade her."

 


"Archie!" Cried Annie with louder sobs.

 


"That’s enough Archie"’ said Albert firmly and amazed of Archie’s reactions.

 


"It is obvious none of us could ever do that," continued Archie, frenetic and oblivious to Albert’s pleas. "You know why Annie? Well, because on this damn world only two people have ever been able to stop her from doing this kind of stupid things, but unfortunately my dear, one of those two has been dead for over seven years and the other, God knows, if that bastard is well and safe in New York and if he doesn’t give a damn for her, while others. . ."

 


"Enough, I said!" shouted Albert.

 


Archie stopped, frightened of his own words and left the room without saying more. Annie, who had stood up for awhile, threw herself on the sofa weeping with the most bitter sobs Albert had ever heard.

 


The blond man then came close to the brunette and put a warm hand on her shoulder.

 


"Please Annie do not cry anymore," he whispered. "He did not mean anything he said, he’s just too upset with this. I’m sure he is thinking about Stear. Archie must be imagining that the same thing is going to happen to Candy, but I do not agree with him. Candy’s situation is different, she is a nurse, not a soldier."

 


"But military nurses also die," managed Annie to say still crying softly.

 


"I’ve already taken my precautions for her protection," said Albert.

 


"You have? What do you mean?" she asked.

 


"I’ll tell you in a minute when Archie comes back. Now let me go and find him."

 


And Albert went out of the room leaving the weeping girl alone. He found Archie in the balcony next room. The young man had his sight lost in the far away horizon.

 


"Archie?"

 


"Albert," said the younger man. He looked visibly ashamed of his behavior.

 


"I.... am ... so sorry. I do not know what came over me. It is just that this is so difficult to take," mumbled Archie bitterly.

 


"Don’t you think that it is also difficult for me?" Asked Albert letting out a bit of his own despair. "Candy is my protegee and I love her deeply. She has become the closest person to me through the years. Since my sister died I don’t remember anyone being so important to me."

 


"I’m sure it is so. I know well what Candy means for you . . . But, Albert, what I feel is different . . . I . . ."

 


"Hush!" Said Albert touching his lips with one of his fingers and lowering his voice until it became a whisper that only Archie could hear. "I know. There are feelings that a man of honor has to keep deep in his hearts and never let them out, not even confess them to himself for they would only make his life more difficult. Those things that you told Annie and me back in that room should never have been said."

 


"Do you think that Annie...?" Asked Archie.

 


"No, do not worry. She is too busy blaming herself to realize what is going on with you. Now get in there and come back to be the loving and caring fiancé you have always been. Annie needs you more than ever. That is the way Candy would like the things to be."

 


The two young men came back to the room silently, all the fears of their hearts hanging on their shoulders heavily. Once they got there Albert explained to his friends what the new precautions were that he had taken to protect Candy, even in the distance.

 


During his time in Africa, Albert had met a young French officer about his age. They had become very good friends then, having lots of things in common. Years after, when Albert had recovered his memory, he tried to contact his old friend again and had succeeded in his attempt. In fact, they still kept in touch regularly. That young officer happened to be the nephew of a very important person in France, Marshal Ferdinand Foch, a man that would play a decisive role in the war. So, Albert had already contacted his friend to ask him to use his uncle’s influence to prevent Candy’s participation in medical staff to be sent to the Front Line. Albert’s friend had replied him ASAP with the formal promise that Miss. Candice White Audrey would always be kept as part of the medical personnel in a hospital in Paris, but would never be sent to any kind of field expeditions. With this hope Annie and Archie felt a little released and found courage to read Candy’s goodbye letter.

 


They could not imagine then that neither Albert’s relationships nor Marshal Foch’s influences were going to stop Candy from meeting with her destiny.

Two months after the scene we have just witnessed Albert received the first letter from Candy.

 


June 29th 1917

 


Dear Albert,

 


We have finally arrived in Paris. This is the first letter I can send since I left America. I’m sure you have gone through lots of problems because of me. It must not have been easy to tell everyone about my decision. I’m sorry to have left all this responsibility on your shoulders but I could not find anyone else that could do that difficult job any better.

 


I hope that you understand my motives though I know well that you’ll miss me as much I am missing you and all my beloved friends. Do you remember when you went to Africa? It was something you had always dreamt. Something you had to do in order to continue with your life. The decision of coming to France is a thing of the same nature. I had to be here. It is as if I’ve just been born for such a time as this. I mean, not that I’m doing extraordinary things here but this is the place I have to be. I’ve just arrived and I’ve already seen many reasons for being here, you know.

 


On the other hand, it is not as terrible as people say. People have all been very nice with me here. Yes, the job is tough but everyone is so touched by pain in this hospital that most good feelings come out easily from everyone’s heart. We work very hard because the personnel is never enough to take care of all the wounded men that arrive everyday from the Western Front, but we are also rewarded when we realize that we have managed to save a life.

 


There is only something that bothers me really deeply, and that is how often amputations take place here. Sometimes I think that doctors decide to cut a leg or an arm way too soon. It is so sad to see those men, some of them really young, to suffer utterly when they realize that one of their members has been cut off. I remember last year when I went to a medical convention in the JohnsHopkinsHospital, some doctors there where trying a new process called irrigation to save a member from an eminent amputation. They had some very good results there and I am just waiting a chance to suggest its use here. But it is not going to be very easy because doctors never rely on nurses to diagnose treatments.

On a lighter note I most tell you that I reencountered an old pal here. Do you remember Flammy, my classmate in the NurseSchool? She’s here, and guess what? She is the head nurse here! Can you believe it? I know I once told you that we never got along pretty well, but I’m sure our relationship will go a lot better now. I know that she is a very lonely soul and I would love to be friends with her. Keep your fingers crossed for me.

 


Please tell Annie that Paris really is all the things that she once told me. The city is absolutely beautiful, breathtaking. Of course I do not have much time to sightsee but every two weeks I have a free day, well only for 10 hours. I’ll use most of that time to see everything and as things are going here, it seems that this war will still take a while to end. So I have some chances to see Paris very well.

 


As I am really busy here I do not think that I will be able to write very often. My next letter will be for Annie, then I’ll write to Archie, after that to Miss Pony and Sister Lyn and finally to you again. So be patient and all of you tell each other what I say in my letters. But please do not let Annie know about the amputations that I told you. I do not want her to feel sad for that.

 


Love,


Candy

 


P.S. I’ve just turned 19 last month during the trip. So, do not forget to get me something as a birthday present and keep it well wrapped for my return.

 


August 6th 1917

 


My Dear Annie,

 


This is a letter I do not know how to begin. Albert told me how you felt when you learnt about my departure. Annie! There are not any motives for you to feel guilty because of that !!!

 


It was a decision you could have not changed by no means of reason or force. It is something I had to do and I do not regret it a bit, though I wouldn’t like you to suffer because of it.

 


There are so many good things around here, more than you can imagine, believe me. I’m meeting lots of nice people everywhere. There’s a nice lady called Julienne, she is sharing the same room with me. She’s older than us, maybe 9 or 10 years, and already married, imagine it. Her husband is fighting in the front and she decided to cooperate volunteering as a nurse, and she is indeed a very good one. She is being really sweet with me all this time, she’s got a great sense of humor and she is doing her best to learn English just to talk to me. Isn’t she sweet? I’m learning some French too but I’m not very good at the pronunciation, I’m afraid.

There is also a nice guy I met a few days ago, a young doctor at the hospital. His name is Yves. He’s quite a sweet boy, you know. I met him by accident in the streets, his dog was running after a cat and it made me fall. It was a very comical situation now that I remembered it. It is strange that I haven’t seen him before that moment, even when we worked at the same hospital. After the incident I’ve seen him very often. We have already worked together taking care of a couple of patients. He is a really good doctor. ...Ahh, by the way, just in case that little head of yours is thinking about any sort of match-making I have to tell you that Yves is very nice and all, but I am NOT INTERESTED, so just forget everything that could have come to your mind.

 


I’ll have to go now because my turn starts soon and Flammy will get mad at me if I do not arrive on time. I’ll post this letter tomorrow. Please read the next letter I’ll write to Archie.

 


Love you much,


Candy

 


September 24th 1917

 


Dear Archie,

 


Nurse Candice White Audrey, proud member of the AEF - this is the American Expeditionary Force - is very pleased to inform you, Sir, that she is well and kicking. Did that sound formal? I hope not because I have never been formal and that just wouldn’t fit my personality. The fact is that something seems to go better for the Allied forces recently. But you should know better by the papers. When I had just arrived here a great offensive to recover Flanders, or Flandres as they say in French, started. Thousands of wounded men had been brought to our hospital, since then. Even part of the hospital personnel has been designated in an expedition to look for the wounded in the battlefields. Despite the British and the French efforts the region isstill under the German control, but lots of people believe that the Allies are joining forces to attempt a major attack in the same point. We all hope that this could push the German Army back and free the whole region. Our boys, I mean our soldiers, have not really entered in the scene yet but only gave a kind of support in Belfort. However, as time goes by more and more of our men are arriving and training here. So Paris, where I am, is well kept. With God’s help this will end up sooner than I think and I will be back home, you see. Therefore, there are not reasons to worry for me. On the contrary, you should concentrate all your strength in supporting Annie. She does have a delicate spirit and needs you by her side more than ever. When I get back we’ll all joke about these days and I’ll tell you all the funny things that are happening to me here. Just one thing, remember that Christmas is in three months. Please, ask Albert for money to buy Annie something in my behalf. Get something beautiful and luxurious, but always elegant... Well, I trust your good taste.

 


Love,


Candy

 


October 1st 1917

 


Dear Miss Pony and Sister Lyn,

 


This is my first letter to you since I left America 6 months ago. I know it is not fair to write so little but my duties here do not allow me to do it more often. You both taught me that the service to those in need should always go first, and there are so many people here that need comfort and help that I just can’t stop.

 


I do not want you to be worried about me. I am really fine here, but please pray for all these people that die everyday in my arms. Sometimes I can not do anything for them but say the prayers you once taught me, and cry silently in frustration. You, who have always been so close to God, ask Him to stop this madness. I just can not understand how people can hurt each other in such an awful way. It is outrageous!

 


Sometimes I feel like running away, back home, to America, to you. But I understand this is my place now. People need me the same way the kids at home need you both. I have not told anyone how I feel about the pain that grows and grows around me with every wounded patient that I meet. Then again, do not worry for me, and do not tell anyone about these sad things, but pray, pray for them.

 


Most people believe that a large attack is just about to take place in the North, many trucks with young soldiers have been passing by the city in direction to the northern border with Belgium. When you think of me, think also about those young men, who might never come back home. But I promise I will. Something inside me is quite sure about it.

 


I heard that Patty is back in Chicago since the summer. Please tell Annie to give her a bear hug on my behalf. The thoughtful girl is there just to support Annie, I’m sure. She’s got a wonderful heart. Could you please invite them to your Christmas dinner and celebrate with Annie as in the good old days? That would cheer them up a lot, especially Annie. I have already sent instructions to Albert to help you to provide everything for the party and toys for the kids.

 


Lots of love,


Candy

"My sweet child, "said Miss Pony wiping away her tears after finishing the letter. "She’s out there working day and night, suffering I do not know what scarcities that she does not confess, but she just can’t help thinking about the others. About Christmas dinners and presents for others."

 


"It is the same old Candy, but each time better, stronger and more caring," replied the nun besides Miss Pony with pride mixed with sadness.

 


"Yes, we all should be very proud of her."

 


"Miss Pony," asked Sister Lyn, a shadow crossing her clear eyes, "Don’t you feel something weird in the air?"

 


"What do you mean, Lyn?"

 


Miss Pony and Sister Lyn had spent so many years working as a team and had gone through so many trails together that they both knew every change in the other’s mood. The tone in the nun’s voice was charged of fear and Miss Pony did not like it at all.

 


"It might just be my imagination, but when you were reading the part of the letter where Candy asks us to pray for her patients. I. . ." began the Nun and then her voice reduced almost into a whisper, "I felt something in my heart telling me that we really should pray, but especially pray for her."

 


"Sister Lyn!"

 


"Our Candy is in great danger Miss Pony. I can feel it as only a mother could do it," said the good woman weeping in silence.

 


The chilling autumn wind came into the room moving the sheets of the calendar. It was November the 1st. On Miss Pony’s desk the pages of a magazine moved also with the sudden gust. On one of the pages a headline could be read: " A Star goes to fight for his country in the French Front."

 

[domniki]

CHAPTER THREE

​

​

Running on the Cliff's Edge

​

​

Renouncement

​

I must not think of thee: and, tired yet strong,


I shun the love that lurks in all delight-


The love of thee- and in the blue heaven’s height,


And in the dearest passage of a song.


Oh, just beyond the sweetest thoughts that throng


This breast, the thought of thee waits hidden yet bright;


But it must never, never come in sight;


I must stop short of thee the whole day long.


But when sleep comes to close each difficult day,


When night gives pause to the long watch I keep,


And all my bonds I need must loose apart,


Must doff my will as raiment laid away,


With the first dream that comes with the first sleep


I run, I run, I am gather’d to thy heart.

​

Alice Meynell

​

As Miss Pony and Sister Lyn suspected, Candy did not say in her letters even the half of all the horror she was witnessing.

The war in France had been since the very beginning a trenched warfare. From the South to the North of the country trenches were built along the borders with Luxembourg, Belgium, and Austria. Both, Germany and France had fought fiercely during years, the first one attempting to occupy the enemy’s territory, and the latter to defend its land. Despite the bloody battles in which thousands and thousands of men were killed, by 1917 not many advances had been made. Both sides, the Allied Forces and the Central Powers had kept more or less the same positions for long time and the hostilities had not ceased there since 1914. That large area was known as the Western Front, one of the most horrifying scenes of World War I.

The Germans had easily occupied Belgium during the first year of the war. From that position they have tried to invade France and take control of the North Sea. A very strategic spot for a future invasion to the United Kingdom, the most powerful enemy the Germans had, before the United States entered the war. The region of Flanders, a large area between France and Belgium, had been practically devastated in this attempt. When Candy arrived in Paris by the end of May 1917 a large campaign was about to start in the same area again.

The point in dispute was an important Belgian city called Ypres. In fact, the place had already been fought in two other occasions but the results had always been disastrous to the Allied cause. By June, the first attacks of the British forces succeeded in gaining Messines, a major village near Ypres. Then, the Allies started a full attack in the zone. In despite of the general optimism the battle resulted extremely long and became a real tragedy that lasted for months.

From Paris and other major French cities, medical personnel were sent to the field hospitals in the North, in order to take care of thousands of wounded people in the battlefields. The dramatic procedure was more or less like this; the field ambulances and the first aid teams collected the wounded among the death bodies in the front, after an attack. Then, they sent the wounded to the rear in specially designed trains, to real hospitals where they could be looked after thoroughly. Sometimes the transportation took days, meanwhile the people of the field hospital, which was only a tent or an improvised spot in the ruins of a devastated building, had to take care of the wounded and even perform surgery with very little resources. Many people died before they could ever received any effective medical attention.

As Flammy Hamilton had been in France since the very first year of the war she was already an experienced field-nurse. She had worked in major battles in the Western Front, including Verdun and the first battle of the Marne. Lately, she had been promoted as head nurse in Saint Jacques hospital, but in such days of distress nobody was totally excepted from being sent into the field hospital whenever the situation required it. There was a shortage of medical aid and any help was always welcomed.

Since Candy arrived at the hospital her superiors could see she had the strength and courage to be an excellent field-nurse. But two things kept her away from that responsibility. The first one was a strong opposition from Flammy, who did not believe that Candy could be suitable for the job, and the second one was a letter received by the Hospital Director, Major André Legarde. In that letter it was highly recommended by someone very important to keep Miss Audrey excluded of any in-field expedition.

Therefore, Candy stayed in Paris along with Flammy during the first months of the third battle of Ypres. Though, her life was not really easy in the hospital either. Wounded people arrived everyday, in the trains from the region of Flanders. Many of them would tell their nurses about the horrors they have lived in the fields where Ypres was being attacked. And even when those tales horrified Candy’s sensitive heart she would listen to all her patients attentively. Maybe she had not read any of the books that Dr. Freud had already published in those times, but her feminine intuition told her what the well known physician had discovered on his own. This is, that the best way to heal a soul was to show interest in whatever a person had to say.

"Have I told you the time I saw my mirror just right in the eyes?" Asked a young British man while Candy was covering his eyes with a bandage around his eyes.

"Your mirror?" Inquired Candy with interest.

"Yes, every man in the trench is in charge of keeping an eye over a specific soldier on the enemy side. That is your mirror," explained the young man.

"Oh, I understand now. You are supposed to watch over every move he does. Huh?"

"Yeah ...but,"’ the young man’s voice took a sad tone. "I’m afraid I ‘m not going to be able to see anything at all from now on," he said bitterly.

Candy’s heart broke again as it always did with that sort of situations. The young man had been reached by mustard gas, a chemical weapon invented by the Germans, which in the luckiest of the cases caused blindness. In fact, the boy had been certainly fortunate because if he had been exposed to the gas for longer it would had damaged his lungs and killed him.

"Come on Clark," said Candy putting her hand in his shoulder. "Do not let yourself fall into despair. You have told me about your mother. Imagine how happy she will be as soon as they send you back home."

"But I can’t see. I’m a useless handicapped," cried the man.

"That’s not true. Weren’t you studying to be a lawyer?" Asked Candy softly.

"Lawyers do not have to see to defend their clients. They just need wisdom and sense of justice."

"Maybe you’re right," he whispered.

"Of course, I am. I am your nurse. Don’t you forget about that."

"I’ll never do that Miss Audrey. Never!" He said smiling for the first time.

Candy took the tray she was using and left the young man to continue with her endless tasks. Scenes like this one were seen everyday, but in many occasions the results were not as optimistic. Once a man’s life was safe from the menace of fever, infections or gangrene, depression was the greatest enemy to defeat, and that was certainly not an easy job in a place where dejection seemed to be a current companion.

"Well done, petite lapine (little rabbit)," said a middle age doctor who had witnessed the scene. "It is necessary to take care of their hearts too. After all, it might be the only thing they have left when this war ends."

"I agree Dr. Duvall," replied Candy smiling sadly.

Marius Duvall was already a doctor when the century had started. He was in his early fifties and had seen quite a bit of the world. As far as the war was concerned he was also quite experienced because he had done all sort of jobs since it had started. Along with Flammy, he had been in the most terrible battles and during that time he had learnt to admire the young woman’s courage, but was totally convinced that her work was not everything a doctor could desired because she lacked of compassion.

On the contrary, the young blond girl he had renamed as petite lapine, a regular pet name among French people, was a continuous blessing for everyone around. He was really pleased to work with the young woman because she had the gift of enlightening the darkest day, and in war times, such days are very common.

Doctor Duvall had also had a daughter who would have been just three years younger than Candy if she hadn’t died the year before along with her mother in a tragic accident. So, he felt a sort of father like affection for the American girl that somehow reminded him of his very own daughter.

Duvall was tall and still fit. His large figure could fill in a whole doorway without problem. As a matter of fact, he was known as "Le Grand Marius" for that reason. Despite the impressive size of the man, his dark black eyes revealed a special kindness quite unexpected in a man of his appearance. He always had a smile or a word of comfort for his patients no matter how busy or tired he was. He also had the gift of a good sense of humor and even when he always performed his work skillfully, he could very well make fun of himself, his size or his getting bald.

Therefore, it was a logical consequence that he soon found Candy the perfect partner for surgery. "If you have to do a job so tough," he used to say. "Then you need a nurse that does not take herself as seriously as she takes her work."

Duvall was also a wonderful storyteller. He could spend hours telling all sort of jokes or funny tales without stopping. In fact, the little French that Candy could learn on those days was mostly picked up from hearing Dr. Duvall during the terrible surgery sessions.

Despite the difference of ages, Marius Duvall and Yves Bonnot had become very close friends and often spent time together, whenever their frenzied schedule allowed it. They made quite a funny couple. The older man was always cheerful and the younger one was mostly serious and even shy.

Duvall had already noticed the obvious interest that Yves had in Candy and he approved the match enthusiastically. So, he would use any opportunity he found to advise Yves on the delicate issue of approaching a girl who was so nice but also so distant.

"I just don’t understand her," Yves had once told Marius. "She is always so sweet with everybody, including me, but she’s at the same time so . . . impersonal . . . I don’t know if you can understand."

"Kind of..." replied Duvall with a chuckle. "The problem is not her being nice to you but that she is the same way with everybody. You would like her, somehow, to give you a ‘special treatment,’ those little signs that tell a guy that he is special for the girl he likes, am I right?"

"Yeah! You’ve got it!" Answered Yves. "But she uses that dazzling smile of hers with every person around. Even the dull Flammy has her own share of Candy’s attentions. That isn’t fair."

"Umm, I would say that she’s got the virtue of being . . . democratic, I think," joked Duvall, but as he saw that his remark was not funny for his friend he added immediately.

"I’m sure she’s got a heart to give in a special way. But maybe she’s ... I don’t know, afraid of opening her heart to someone. You must be patient. Do something special. Surprise her, make things happen."

"You think?" Said Yves as if he were just talking to himself.

Yves was so busy thinking of ways to catch the blonde’s attention that he was absolutely unaware of other women’s admiration. He was, after all, a young good-looking man in his early twenties, and more than one girl would have given anything to attract him. A short mane of raven hair crowned his head and under the shade of his thick black eyebrows a pair of light gray eyes watched over the world discreetly. Tall, lean but muscular, suave of manners and firm of movements, he was a real gift to the female eye, yet he was not too conscious of his looks and did not trust in them for gaining women’s attentions.

While he was investing most of the energies he had left after a hard working day in finding ways to please Candy, another pair of dark eyes followed his movements, wishing secretly to be in Candy’s place. In this way one of the oldest stories of mankind was being played again within the walls of that hospital. Ah! Stubborn human hearts that rarely put their hopes in places too easy to reach, as though we all needed a little of despair and defeat in our lives to find some sense in our sometimes senseless existence.




Yves tried all the usual resources without much luck. He invited Candy to sightsee the city and she had insisted in taking Julienne, her roommate, with them. Then again he tried with flowers with some slight success at the beginning, because receiving flowers from a young handsome man is always flattering for any woman. Candy was surprised when she first received an exquisite bouquet of pink roses tied with a white silk ribbon, but when her fellow nurses began to tease her about her relationship with Yves she simply decided to stop the roses parade. Therefore, she asked Yves, in the politest way she could, not to send her more flowers. She argued that in those days people should not waste their money in such luxuries. Especially when it could be better used in buying medicines or food for those who were homeless because of the attacks in the North. After that incident Yves had joined all the courage he had to ask Candy out another time and she might had accepted that occasion due to his timid insistence, but then a new train with more wounded men arrived from the Front and Yves plans had to be postponed. In a few words it seemed that things did not go quite well for the poor young man.

On the other hand, despite Yves’ fears and bad luck, he had managed to start a cordial friendship with the girl and perhaps that was the weak hope that kept him fighting to gain Candy’s heart. Julienne, Yves and Candy would normally have lunch together, and sometimes Duvall joined the group. In those occasions Bonnot made his best to find out as much as possible about Candy’s life, avid as any lover, to know every single detail about the object of his affection. The strong energy channels that ran from Yves’ intensive gaze towards Candy were so evident that sometimes Julienne felt as an intruder and she would surely have left them alone if Candy had not asked her to stay.

Candy had obviously noticed Yves’ intentions but she pretended to ignore them. She believed that the young doctor had only a transitory crush on her, which would fade away as days went by. At the same time, she also wanted to keep Julienne close to her because she was aware of the difficult times the older woman was going through, knowing that her husband was fighting in the front. In that way the two nurses and the young doctor became a well-known trio in the hospital.

"You said that this Albert is your tutor, isn’t he?" Asked Yves for the third time and secretly wishing that the man whose name was always in Candy’s lips, meant nothing but a kind of older brother.

"That’s right but," Candy interrupted herself. "How is it that we always end up talking about me but we never talk about your life, huh?" She giggled playfully.

"Well, my life has not been as exciting as yours, I think," Yves answered trying to change subject but internally thinking, ‘Maybe we do not talk about me because you are not as interested in me as I’m in you, my sweet girl.’

As time went by such conversations, full of Yves’ dreaming gazes and Candy’s nonchalant smiles, became common scenes in the hospital. Curiously, these scenes amused Duvall and Julienne, shocked Flammy and left Yves himself exhausted. By the end of October and after five months of persistent adoration Yves was getting totally clueless and as if that weren’t enough, new events would make him fall into an even deeper confusion.

Among all the new patients that had arrived from the Western Front those days, there was a young man, perhaps still in his teen years, who had been wounded on one of his legs by a gun machine, another new invention the enemies were using. Though the wound was serious Candy thought that the irrigation treatment could be a great help in an attempt to keep the boy’s leg. However, Candy’s plans found big obstacles in the way.

The treatment was totally unknown by French physicians, who would rather cut a member off than risking the patient to become affected with gangrene, a quite feared illness in that time. Candy knew the risk but her intuition was calling her so loudly that this time she could not remain silent when she realized that the amputation was imminent.

"Please Dr. Duvall," she had pleaded. "I’ll take all the responsibility on my shoulders. I know that this boy’s legs is still in good conditions to be treated by irrigation as I’ve told you."

"Petite lapine," began Duvall with an unusual serious look. "I do not think that it is a good idea to risk the kid’s life to see if he can keep his leg. What if the treatment does not work in the conditions we have here and gangrene appears? Then we would probably lose the kid."

"I’m sure he’ll be fine, please," continued Candy with firm conviction. "If we do not take this risk he will be a handicapped . . . Think a little bit, he is a farmer’s son. How would he earn his living if he couldn’t work in the fields?"

"He’ll find another way," answered Duvall slightly irritated with the girls’ insistence.

"Enough!" Said Flammy who had been listening to the conversation. "You’ll never learn, will you? Don’t you understand which is your place as a nurse, Audrey? You’re not allowed to diagnose any sort of treatment. How do you dare?" Ended the irritated brunette.

"I dare because I know how hard it would be for this patient to endure the fact of loosing one of his legs," replied Candy loosing her temper with Flammy for the first time in months. "After the amputation you will just go on with your normal life Flammy; perhaps you’ll only give him a little bit of your attention during his stay here. But when he goes out of this hospital he will have to face harsh reality and you will not be there to help, Flammy!" She pointed out vehemently.

"That is the kind of cheap sentimentalism we can’t afford here," sentenced Flammy with cold eye. "That’s why I will always be against your presence here. You’re not suitable for the job, Candy. You’re still a rich brat playing the nurse!"

"The argument is over," Duvall said interrupting Flammy before she could go any further, and then with a collected but firm tone added, "Candy, we are going to practice the amputation and I do not want to hear more comments about this matter. Now get in there and prepare everything for the surgery."

Candy recognized the look of determination in Duvall’s eyes and voice. It was a clear sign that she had again lost the opportunity to save a man from a personal tragedy.

Flammy’s face lit up with victory when she saw her old classmate low her golden head in defeat. Candy, realizing that she did not had any option, began to prepare the instruments.

After three hours of hideous butchery the surgery had finished with success but all the while it lasted Candy’s heart had torn in countless shreds, helplessness and despair invading her sensitive soul. She thought about her old friend Tom, who was also a farmer. She knew well what a tragedy the loss of one’s member could be when one has to live from the work of the own hands.

When the patient was already out of the surgery room and only Candy had been left there in charge of cleaning the bloody scene, she finally burst into bitter tears. Bonnot, who had learnt about the incident by Julienne, arrived at that precise moment to discover the girl he was already in love with crying silently.

"Candy," he gasped opening his arms to comfort the young woman.

Candy, at loss of words and energies, threw herself into the inviting young man’s arms where she cried her frustration freely.

A few seconds passed before the reality of the moment plunged into Yves’ mind. When realization finally hit him he perceived a sweet soft feeling inside of his heart while his arms enclosed the woman he loved.

"C’est bien, c’est bien ma chérie ( It’s fine, my dearest one)," he said unable to use any other language but his mother tongue in such an intimate moment.

"She is in my arms!" He thought in disbelief. "I’ve been waiting for a moment like this for months but I hardly can believe it is real now. If this is a dream I don’t want to wake up."

Candy continued sobbing silently on Yves’ shirt for a while more, his tender care sweeping away the pain. For a moment she thought of Albert, she even felt the same sort of warm protection he had always provided to her. However, as she regained her self-control a disturbing sensation of inappropriateness invaded her. Candy realized she was uneasy in such position and understanding how compromissary the situation was she tried to part from Yves’ arms slowly. But then, becoming amazingly bold for his natural ways, the man dared to resist the girl’s intentions taking Candy’s face within his hand and pulling her so close that the young woman could feel his breath on her skin.

"You’ve got eyes in which I would drown gladly, Candy. Tears should never cloud their light," he murmured while he lowed his head to get what could have been a full kiss on the girl’s lips, if she had not reacted rapidly.

"What are you doing Yves?" she shouted jerking back with all her strength and taking one hand to her mouth in an instinctive movement. "Please, never, never tried that again!" She ended with energy.

The young man went bright red by then, not knowing what to say to apologize.

"Ca.. Candy," he stuttered. "I’m so sorry, I just don’t know....I don’t....know ...what came over...me, please."

Candy was too upset with the situation to fully realize how painful the rejection in her voice was for Yves. Inside her, turmoil of feelings she had fought to keep silent were waking up and making too much noise in her spinning head.

"I do not want to talk about this," she said fleeing from the place while Yves, totally perplexed and hurt, remained there blaming himself acridly.

When Candy was going out of the room she bumped into Julienne, and the blonde thanked her good luck for sending the person she needed the most in the moment.

"Oh Julienne," she pleaded with gasping voice. "Would you finish fixing the surgery room for me? I just. . . I just can’t do it now."

"Yes, Candy," replied the woman alarmed to see her partner in such restless state quite unusual in her. "But..."

Julienne could not finish her sentence because Candy was already running down the aisle until she disappeared from the brunette’s sight. When Julienne got into the surgery room and saw Yves sitting on the floor and holding his head on his own hands, she suddenly realized what had happened. Julienne bowed her head and without saying a word to the young doctor she began her task silently. Finally, when the man got the courage to stand up, he looked at the woman directly and said.

"Je suis foutu, Julie, tellement foutu (I’m ruined)!" And he left the room.

"Chagrin d’amour," whispered Julienne to herself. At her thirty years and after nine of marriage she knew very well the deep pains and joys love can bring to human hearts. Everyday, she experimented on herself the same slow agony. Knowing her husband was away in battle she had not other choice but waiting, always waiting while a silent prayer for her man’s safety was continuously chanting in the bottom of her soul. It was too hard to love in war times.

Candy ran away to the only place in the hospital where she could enjoy of a bit of privacy, the small room she shared with Julienne. She held the tears in her way hoping not to run into Flammy. The uproar of her thoughts overwhelmed her from top to bottom as if her most unconfessed feelings were protesting against her constant control over them. Her hands were shaking when she finally reached the door handle and came into the room, sighing in relief. Her tears began to fall freely over her cheeks as she leaned over the closed door. She could hear a soft noise, it was the weeping noise of her own sobs she let escape without restrains.

"It’s been so long," she thought. " It’s been so long and you still hurt me so deeply. Will I ever stop being haunted by your memory? Why is it so difficult?"

Candy moved towards the window of her room. It was getting really cold that night, it was the end of October then and she knew that the freezing winter days were already getting close.

"It was a cold night like this one," she said to herself, "That frigid feeling in my heart has never disappeared since then. I still can sense the blood hardening in my veins."

Candy’s mind played again the same scene, same words, and same feelings bursting from her wounded chest. It was still fresh in her memory:

She was running down the stairs, her mind dimmed and confused. For a moment she had thought she was living one of her nightmares, but the loud pounding or her pulse, so clear and painful, had told her that she was not asleep. Hectic masculine steps were following her . . . It was him, she knew well.

"I have to speed up," she had though., " If I face him I will not have the strength to do what I must."

The stairs seemed endless, and she had wished she could never reach downstairs, always feeling him chasing her . . . always near him.

His legs, being larger and stronger, had closed the gap easily until she did not have any way to escape from the firm hold of his grip. She had thought her body was going to faint when he grasped her waist pulling her back until his arms were all around her. She could felt then how each of his muscles was tensed as rock against her back while his lavender essence invaded her nostrils.

"Don’t say anything," he whispered huskily in her ear. "If only time can stand still," he had added, almost pleading.

He had leaned over her burying his face on her unruly curls in a way that she could felt his feverish cheeks against her skin. A thick drop of a warm liquid fell on the bare skin of her neck and she knew it had been a tear he had shed. He was crying silently! His characteristic pride had all gone away in a second and he was there with the soul exposed and naked, crying shamelessly.

"Terry! My Terri is crying!" She thought, her heart breaking in a thousand pieces. "If I turned back now," she said to herself, "I would wipe away his tears with my kisses and once his lips reached mine only God could know how far we might go . . . If I faced him now I would never be able to renounce. I do not have the courage to look into his eyes and leave him like this. Oh Lord! I will have to go away without looking at him another time!"

Then his grip lost strength on her waist and she knew he had finally given up. He loosened her to hold her shoulders lightly.

"Be happy Candy," he finally said with anguished accent. "Or else, I won’t forgive you."

"We have already lost each other," she thought then and immediately gathered courage to say loudly, " You too, Terri, be happy."

She had turned her head slightly to address to him for the last time but kept her gaze fixed on the stairs carpet not able to face his eyes for a last time. Finally, with a timid sigh she parted from his arms forever towards the dark gelid night outside . . .

Candy rubbed her eyes trying to fade the memory away, but she knew too well that it was impossible to erase. Every single detail was engraved in her heart and all her past efforts to forget had always been in vain. With the time she had learn to hide the feeling, to keep it secretly in the depths of her spirit, as a cherished and concealed memory.

She had shrouded her intimate pain from everyone close to her. After all, she thought, there was not use to sadden those who loved her with the pitiful scene of her unmended heart. Following the lesson life had given to her since her childhood she had found a way out of her loneliness in a personal crusade to serve the others.

She had compensated her torn dreams with a life totally dedicated to everyone she met. Candy would spend her days working endless hours and in her free time she would do all sort of little tasks to please the ones she loved. She would go with Albert to those boring social events only to help him face the responsibilities he hated the most or she would listen patiently to Annie’s chat no matter how vain fashion and gossip could be for her taste. She spent her holidays at Pony’s Home helping with the kids and sometimes she would even give some of her time to Archie who was becoming kind of interested in politics lately and wouldn’t talk about anything else. The young man knew that Candy did not care much about the topic but for a reason Candy did not understand he would insist in telling her everything he was interested in. The memory of Stear and Anthony was deeply rooted in Candy, and as she knew it was the same for Archie she could not avoid feeling kind of bound to him and therefore willing to show interest for everything about him.

Now in France, she was trying to do her best to offer a little bit of comfort to those who were suffering more than her. These activities gave her joy and peace, a real meaning for a life that otherwise would had been empty. However, she knew well that a part of her own self was missing and always would.

She had not trust the secret of her internal pain to anybody, not even Albert or Miss Pony. She was determined to conceal her feelings forever, because what else can a woman of honor do when she loves another woman’s man?

Sometimes she almost believed she had already conquered her demons, but then something always occurred that reminded her of "that" old bruise. And now, Yves passionate impulse had moved in her inner being all those denied needs, all the secret longing she did not confess to herself. All of a sudden she had seen how repressed her deepest feminine drives were. Having a young man so close to her had awakened the natural urges of the young woman she was. However, her hidden fires could not respond any further but to one name, one voice, one pair of deep blue, blue, eyes . . . Unfortunately, the eyes that had looked at her with earnest love, back in the surgery room, were gray.

"Why can’t I forget?" She asked herself. "Why can’t I feel the same way with anyone else? When Yves got so close to me I only could think of you, the warmth of your arms, the light of your eyes, your burning kiss, that single kiss, on my lips . . ."

"This is wrong," she said with a loud cry. "This is all wrong. You’re not mine anymore, I cannot keep on thinking of you this way. Oh my, this is a sin!" She cried.

Candy fell into her bed, not able to think or do anything else but weep. It was then when Julienne came and sat down quietly by Candy’s side. The older woman put a hand on the blonde’s back rubbing her with tenderness.

"Candy, Candy," she whispered, understanding her roommate’s sorrow as only a woman can understand the ones of her own kind. "What heartless man could have ever hurt you this way, my dear?" Asked Julienne in her sweet French accent. "I’m sure he does not deserve any or those tears you cry because of him."

"I don’t know Julie," Candy finally said between her sobs. "I only know that I can not get over, I don’t know how to do it."

Finally after almost three years of silence Candy had admitted in front of someone what she felt.

Candy hanged her arms around Julienne’s neck and cried on her shoulder. The older woman received her friend with all the compassion she had in her chest but not really knowing what to say to help the poor girl. So, they both hugged each other silently for long time until the pounding in Candy’s heart began to slow down.

In 1917, General Ferdinand Foch had been promoted as chief of the general staff of the French army. As all the great man of human history, Foch recognized that this was the moment that would bring true meaning to his whole life. He knew he had been born for such a difficult time and he had not intentions to fail in his vital task. Therefore, since his promotion, he started moving his pieces in the huge chessboard of the Western Front, getting prepared for the offensive that would free the country from the German menace.

One day he would move a whole platoon; another, he would promote or demote a key man as the chess player moves his pawns and horses. One of these single pieces was Major André Legarde, who had been in charge of SaintJacquesHospital for over a year. Foch had been Legarde’s professor in the military Academy, and the general knew well that Legarde’s military talents were being wasted directing a hospital. So, by the end of October, he decided to promote his former pupil to a prominent position in the Western Front. Then, he designated someone else to manage the hospital with very precise orders to send a new medical team to help in Flanders, where the French, British and Canadian armies had laid siege to Ypres for months.

The morning of October the 31st, André Legarde received his orders and left Paris immediately. For that night, his substitute was already in Saint Jacques giving orders to send a group of 20 nurses and 5 doctors to the North. His instructions were clear, he had to make sure the group was on the way that very night. There was not much time to lose.

"Give me a list with the nurses names," ordered Major Louis de Salle, the new director, when he entered his office for the first time that night.

"Here you are, Sir," answered a middle age sergeant who was apparently his secretary.

"That’s fine," said de Salle giving a quick look at the list. "Send all the nurses from A to H, without restriction."

"But sir," objected the secretary. "Don’t you want to read their files before designating any of them?"

"There’s no time for that," he said coldly. "Send also the five most experimented doctor you have left. Is Marius Duvall still here?"

"Yes, sir, since last April he has not gone into any field expedition."

"So, make sure he is included. I know him well and I’m sure he will be more helpful there. Now go and let these people know about their designation. I want to see them all in my office as soon as possible. You are dismissed."

"Yes, Sir!" Answered the secretary and after the usual salutation he went out of the room.

If de Salle had given himself the time to read the files he would had learnt that, in one of them, there was a letter that could have prevented him from sending in the mission one of the nurses he had just assigned randomly. But war times are like a race on a hazardous cliff, and none is safe when running at its edge.

After the embarrassing scene Candy had experience with Yves in the surgery room a few days before, the poor man hadn’t find courage to apologize. Instead, he limited himself to send her a white lily everyday, always with a little card saying ‘pardon’. He did not have the bravery to talk to her or even look at her eyes directly so he waited silently; hoping secretly that she would some day forgive him. It was clear the young man was living in misery and the realization of his sad condition made Candy’s heart felt ashamed of her violent reaction that night.

After lots of hesitation she finally took the initiative and talked to him to clear things up.

"Could I have a word with you, Yves?" She asked him one evening when they were finishing their shift.

"Oh,..y,..yes, Candy," he said shyly.

They went out of the hospital to a nearby park, walking in silence for a while that seemed endless for both. One, fearing the words that were going to be said, the other not quite sure how to start.

"Yves," Candy finally said. "I would like to apologize for my rudeness the other day."

"You? Oh no, not at all, it was all my fault," he mumbled nervously. "I. . . . I . . .forgot how to behave as a gentleman. That was wrong," he finished in a whisper lowering his eyes.

"Anyway," she continued. "I was too hard with you, I must have understood the way you felt then."

"Do you understand now?" He asked with a bit of hope in his voice. "Candy, I . . .’

"Don’t say it, please," said Candy softly. "I know it already."

Candy paused for a second to find the way to hurt the young man the least as possible. A cold gust moved the trees leaves as she was trying to find the correct words.

"Yves," she finally said. "I’m afraid I cannot correspond your feelings. It is not you, please do not feel that it is something in you. In fact, in the short time I’ve known you I have been able to see the great man you are. It is rather . . .me, something in me," she explained.

The man’s face reflected all sort of different emotions as she spoke. First hope, then despair and finally deep pain.

"Is there . . . Is there someone, back in America?" He finally asked narrowing his gray eyes.

Candy did not look into his gaze, instead she would try to focus on the countless grass leaves of the nearby lawn, but finally answered.

"No, not really. I do not have anyone waiting for me if that is what you mean. But," she paused again looking for the exact words. "I have had some bad experiences before, and I’m afraid I am not ready for a relationship, I think," she mumbled.

"I have also had my own bad days though, we might just need time," he suggested timidly. And, as she smiled slightly to his remark he gained strength to continue. "Perhaps if we just try, I mean, to be friends . . . perhaps with time."

Candy turned her eyes away from Yves’ pleading sight. It was clear that her feelings and common sense were fighting a battle inside her.

"Could this be a new chance life gives me?" she thought. "Could I learn to love this man? What if I just end up hurting him? Should I make him hope for a love that might never grow in my heart?"

"I don’t know Yves," she finally said. "I do not want to hurt you."

"Do not worry about that," he replied with new vigor in his voice. "I understand how you feel Candy and I promise I’ll be patient. Just let me be your friend . . . again," he said giving her his hand as a friendly sign.

"I can not promise anything but my sincere friendship," she said, still doubting. "Is that fine for you?"

"More than enough," he concluded smiling as they both shook hands.

Yves promised himself to be patient and careful with every one of his moves, but also persistent. He knew the girl was worthy enough to give his best try and since it didn’t seem to be anyone around to set obstacles on their way, he grew new hopes in his heart. Unfortunately, fate was just about to play again one of its unexpected turns.

That night Candy was designated along with Flammy, Julienne, Duvall and other 21 people to work in a mission in the North. The decision was taken without any previous announcement and the personnel had to move immediately. Candy did not even have time to say good bye to Yves, who had not been assigned to the mission. The morning of November the 1st, same day Miss Pony and Sister Lyn received Candy’s letter, the young woman was on her way to Flanders.

 

[domniki]

CHAPTER FOUR

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In the Western Front

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The way to Ypres was long and cold, cold and sinister, sinister and gloomy, all at the same time. As the train left Paris behind, Candy could see with her own eyes what she had only heard through her patients’ tales. The closest to the North they reached the more desolated the landscape looked. Whole crops abandoned or devastated, large areas still burning after an airplane attack, silence where there used to be the laborious noise of peasants working under the sun of Pas-de-Calais.

Many people had been evacuated to the South and center of the country, fleeing away from the destruction, running desperately to find shelter; but always knowing that life could never be the same being away from the only home some of them had ever know. As the train passed by and Candy could notice the many abandoned houses along the railway, her heart shrunk in front of the sad view of empty cottages and lonely estates. But it was only the beginning.

When the train arrived in Arras, the capital of Pas-de-Calais, the group had to continue the trip by truck. The Allied trenches raised along the countryside not many miles away from there. At the other side of no-man’s land, the Germans struggled to keep their position in the invaded region. Some railways had been partially destroyed in the attacks and the few lines that had been left intact were reserved for the wounded to be transported from the front to Paris and other cities. The train left the group and the equipment they had brought with them in the ruins of something that should had been a train station. They had been told that they would have to wait for three hours before the trucks came to pick them up. So, they had time to swallow little by little what the ravages of war had done to that city, once beautiful and full of life.

Candy decided to stretch her legs a bit and asked Julienne to go with her. For a reason the blonde did not understand Flammy volunteered to take the walk with them. As they ventured a few steps away from the station they could reach a paving-stone road that led to a small square. The ruins of a church could be seen a few meters from the spot they were standing on. A shell had burst in one of the walls revealing one of the paintings in the inside dome. The roof of the building had fallen on the benches and a few planks of wood were still hanging in mid-air. Outside the church a group of Scottish soldiers, sat on the sidewalk, were talking softly totally absent-minded to the pathetic scene. They had already seen so many of these pictures that had grown accustomed to them. It was the only way to cope with the horrors of a real life nightmare.

One of the soldiers let go a gasp as he realized the presence of the three young women in white uniforms and black long capes. The girls just bowed their heads crowned with flat straw boaters and continued their walk while Candy did the sign of the cross instinctively as they passed in front of the devastated place.

Arras had already been attacked furiously three times since the war had started. What had been left were just dreadful ruins, black burned wooden buildings, mute streets where only the mournful sound of autumn wind could be heard along with the echo of the three women’s steps.

A lonely figure partially blurred in the mist of the evening came closer to the group and Candy narrowed her green eyes to focus in it. With a bit of effort she finally could see that it was a female shape walking towards them. The woman approached them with slow pace. In her arms she was carrying a shapeless lump.

"Mesdemoiselles," she said. "Ayez la bonté de me donner un peu d’argent pour nourrir mon enfant. Je vous prie (Young ladies, would you be so kind to give me a little money to feed my baby? I beg you)."

Candy stepped forward to close the gap between her and the woman. Then she realized that she was dressed in shreds and quivering under the evening chill. In her arms there was a motionless baby and by the characteristic grayish tone of the kid’s cheeks Candy knew it was already dead. The woman looked at her with pleading eyes while Candy tried to cover the poor lady with her cape.

"S’il vous plaît, Mademoiselle (Please, Miss )," she said again with her sight lost in the fog.

Candy hugged the woman softly while a single tear rolled down her rosy cheek. Julienne and Flammy approached silently without noticing a man that had been watching the scene from a distance.

"Mesdemoiselles." Finally said the man coming out from mist.

Julienne turned to face him and talked to him in French for a while. It seemed that they were talking about the woman still in Candy’s arms. When they had finished their talk the nurse addressed her Americans colleagues, her eyes were full of tears.

"He says that the child died two days ago," Julienne began. "But she still does not want to let him go. She’s lost contact with reality since then. He is her husband and they are both waiting for a friend of theirs who will take them in his truck to the South, where they have some relatives."

"Tell him that his wife can keep my cape," Candy said helping the woman to walk until they were close to the man who received his wife in his arms.

The man bowed his head thanking the beautiful stranger in front of him and walked away with the poor woman, who could not clearly understand what was going on around, her mind blurred in her pain as the November evening. The three women came back to the station in absolute silence. In all the while Flammy had not uttered a single word but the nervousness of her blinking eyes gave away what she was feeling, at least that was clear to Candy.

"She pretends to be too tough to be impressed by this tragedy," she thought, "though I know her well enough to notice she is as shocked as Julienne and I. That look in her eyes…I remember it clearly, the way she’s moving her iris and blinking rapidly is the same sign of nervousness she always fought to hide during exam times, when we were students. After all, your heart can not remain cold in front of this senseless havoc, old Flammy."

The three nurses joined the group. An hour later the trucks arrived and the medical team continued the journey to the front line. Julienne remained speechless the rest of the trip, her eyes lost in the darkness of the frigid night. Candy wanted to say something to cheer her up, but understood she needed some privacy, so she let her friend alone with her own thoughts and she tried to get some sleep. In few hours they would be arriving to their destination.

The U.S. second division was already training not too far from Cambrai in North France by the beginning of November. They still did not have any idea of where they were going to be assigned. Their orders were simple, they had to train, adjust to the weather conditions and get to know the terrain as much as possible. Even though the Americans had mobilized amazingly fast, especially for an entire Army that came from the other side of the Atlantic, some months would pass before the American troops were all set in strategic points, and ready to help the Allies. General John J. Pershing, chief commander of the AEF, had very clear orders from President Wilson: wait patiently and get prepared for the proper time.

Meanwhile, the expectation was difficult to endure for the young soldiers, some of them anxious of facing real action whereas others, the least naive and more realistic, were secretly scared of what was going to come soon or later. Waiting for an uncertain future is always a hard burden for human souls.

The division was spread in a large area among the woods, each regiment and battalion had been assigned a room where they could both, work and wait, coordinating actions with the other battalions and keeping constant communication.

In the morning, came hell or high water they had to train for hours. In the afternoon they looked after their camp. So, the whole day the troops had a busy and well-organized routine, but the evenings, . . . Ahh, the evenings were a space to rest and forget about the harsh reality they were living away from their families. They would entertain themselves the best they could. Some would gathered around the fire to tell stories, play all sort of card games, share the news they received from home, talk about how the AEF was going to kick those German butts or engulf in men’s favorite topic: women.

"I met the most beautiful girl I have ever seen just a few days before we came here," said one private sat next to the fire. "Unfortunately I did not have a chance to try my luck. But I will as soon as we get back home."

"She will be married and with three children by then," mocked a second private with a smirk. "You’d better find a French baby when you get your first leave," he finished.

"Of course I will," chuckled the first private. "That’s the only thing I can think of since we arrived here, but is not very likely we can do that soon."

"I think I’ll forget what it feels like to have a woman in my arms by the time this war ends," added a third voice.

"Same here," said a fourth young voice and the other three men interchanged an amused look among them at the young man’s remark.

"Come on, kid," said the first private. "You can’t remember ‘cause you’ve never had one," ended the man and the whole group burst into laughter.

From a reasonable distance another man observed his companions in reserved silence. His face and upper part of his body were partially covered by the darkness. The light and shadows dancing in the fire reflected mysterious shapes over his polished boots and on his deep big eyes, single brilliant spots in his dark figure. He was sitting nonchalantly over a dried trunk resting his head and broad back on a pile of wooden boxes full of munitions behind him. Though he was obviously looking at the men talking and joking, it seemed that his mind was not really into the conversation but wandering in some far away reveries, but none could have said if they were pleasant or sad because his face did not reveal any sort of emotion.

Another man came out from a nearby tent. His only presence was enough to make all the men, including the solitary thinker in the darkness, stand up and salute the officer who had emerged unexpectedly to mingle with the commoners. Captain Duncan Jackson was over 40, a square jaw and large nose were his personal trade mark. From his scrutinizing dark eyes he looked at the world and kept control over every man in his battalion without loosing detail. His broad shoulders filled the space wherever he stood and none dared to question the issue of who was in charge.

"Gentlemen," he began. "Lieutenant Harris has proved to be quite pathetic at playing chess, and honestly his game style is absolutely boring for me. I’m sick of beating his weak movements." He concluded looking at the eyes of every single man he was addressing to.

"So, I wonder," Jackson continued. "If anyone of you thinks that he makes a better opponent for me. I would appreciate if you told me so," he finished dryly.

For a brief moment the privates looked at each other totally clueless in front of the unusual situation. In a world where hierarchies are such a big deal, sometimes a matter of death or life, it is not a common thing that an officer of high rank abases himself to talk to men of the lowest category in the Army and even asks them to play with him.

"I can beat you, Sir," said a deep voice that the privates around the fire had certain difficulty to recognize, but after a second they finally understood it had come from the man who was standing in the shadows.

Jackson looked at the man in amusement and with a little mockery drawn in his sight.

"Don’t you think that is a too strong claim, sergeant?" asked the Captain not able to contain a smile full of contempt.

‘Try me, Sir," said the young sergeant without hesitation, or a hint of fear in his voice.

"You’d better had a good game to show me or you won’t be able to go on leave until you turn 70, young man," warned the Captain.

Jackson did not say more and did not expect any answer from the young sergeant either. He limited himself to make a sign with his hand indicating the younger man to come into his tent and begin the game.

"I thought a cat had got his tongue forever," remarked one of the privates once the sergeant and Jackson had got into the tent. "This is actually the first time I listened to him talking, I think."

"Well, now we know that he’s not mute and he plays chess. So what?" asked the second private. "Let’s play some poker," he suggested with great success and the four men got into the game keeping silence for a while.

When the young sergeant got into the tent the first thing his stormy eyes could see was a large chessboard with beautiful ivory handmade pieces. He could recognize the delicate work of Hindu craftsmen and then realized that Captain Duncan Jackson was a man who had traveled and known a lot of the world. The sergeant thought that was a good thing because worldly men usually have interesting conversation which is an essential element when playing chess. Although the sergeant was not willing to talk much himself, he was kind of pleased to find someone who might be worthy to be listened.

"Anything could be better than listening to all that crap outside," he said to himself. "On second thoughts, almost anything could be better than this hopeless misery inside me."

"A cigarette?" Offered the older man handing a small package to the young sergeant.

"No thanks, I don’t smoke, Sir," replied the man coldly.

"Too bad then," said the captain shrinking his wide shoulders. "I hope you don’t mind because I always smoke while I play."

"I must confess that the odor is not quite pleasant for me now since I used to be a heavy smoker. But I can cope with that, Sir," replied the sergeant casually.

"How did you do it?" Inquired Jackson with a frown of curiosity.

"Do what, sir?" Asked the sergeant coolly.

"Quit the cigarette, of course."

The young man’s eyes were swept for a second by a strange light that disappeared way too soon for Jackson to notice it. He then, lifted and bowed his head as though he was trying to fight a thought, after the movement he focused his absent glance on the officer to answer simply:

"I found other things to do, I think," he finished, giving to his reply the characteristic tone people use when they want to make clear that they are not interested in talking about certain matter.

Both men sat at the table with the black and white board and began the game solemnly. As the young sergeant anticipated, Captain Jackson was not a common man and had a lively conversation, which did not need any stimulation. He talked extensively about the Army’s present situation, the possible strategic measures that could be taken and the most likely responses they might expect from the enemy. However, as the game advanced Jackson became less talkative for he could see that his opponent was truly skilled and not easy to beat. The captain had lost a lot more pieces than he was used to and that made him feel dangerously uncomfortable in front of that silent young man who did not say much but played like the devil himself.

"Tell me sergeant," began again Captain Jackson trying to find a subject to distract his opponent’s attention from the game. "How do you feel living as a soldier? I’m sure it is a shocking experience for a man who usually does something else for a living."

"I manage, Sir," was the only answer from the young man as he made another move on the board that scared Jackson utterly.

"His accent . . . it’s really weird," thought Jackson, who was an amateur linguist. In fact, in his early youth he had been so attracted to languages that he had planned to study Linguistics in Harvard but his father, being a high rank U.S. officer, did not leave Duncan any choice but going to West Point. However, he had continued studying English on his own and was especially fascinated with the incredibly complicated issue of phonetics. He had a sort of obsession with the amazingly wide variety of accents among English speakers and was proud of his ability to recognize a person’s origin just by listening to his or her speech.

"I could say that it is almost . . . British?" Continued Jackson thinking. "But at times it sounds with slight American inflections. American, yes, that’s it, but from where in the States exactly. I can’t say. I definitely need him to talk more to really find out."

"Don’t you miss home sergeant?" Tried again Jackson once that he had made his own move on the board.

The young sergeant, with his left hand rubbing lightly his chin, looked into Captain Jackson’s dark brown eyes. There was a stiff gambler expression on the younger man’s face, or rather there was not any expression on it that could be actually read by Jackson. The kerosene lamp on one table behind them lightened the delicate features of the sergeant’s visage. His lips were drawn exquisitely, a perfect match for a straight fine nose with an arrogant air. A couple of thick dark brows shadowed his mysterious eyes.

"Every single man is always looking for a place to call home, Sir," replied the young man with a coldness that froze Jackson’s blood. "But some of them never find it,: he ended making another unexpected move. Jackson’s king was now perilously defenseless.

Jackson looked at the board and tried to hide his fears. He had to do something soon or the kid would end up winning the game.

"I agree," continued Jackson reclining his back on the canvas chair. "But I guess that a man with your looks must not have problems to find a place in women’s hearts’ added the older man making a last desperate attempt to distract the young man. "Women’s subject never fails,"he thought.

"You might be surprised, but good looks have no power to make a man’s happiness…if such a thing really exists, Sir," sentenced the young sergeant seriously. Then with a look of satisfaction in his deep blue eyes, the first trace of emotion in the whole evening that he allowed himself to reveal, he finally said, "Checkmate, Sir."

Close to the front, the terrain was uneven and especially muddy. The autumn rain had not stopped falling since they had got on the truck. The many wounds that the constant fight had done to the soil along with the merciless rain had turned the whole region into a real swamp. The trip that should have lasted just a few hours have taken ages due to this problem.

By midnight the truck had crossed the border and the medical team was already in Belgian territory. It did not take long for them to hear the loud noises of cannons and bombs. They were really close to the fire line where British and German Armies were fighting over Passendale, a small village near Ypres.

Candy woke up abruptly at the sound of far away machineguns. That way she knew they had reached their destination. She could not avoid a strike of fear in her chest, but an instant later a powerful force within her swept away the apprehension. "I’m here to do a job, and I will not fail," she said to herself while fastening the coat she had left after giving away her cape to the woman in Arras.

The truck stopped in front of a long line of white tents that the dust and mud had given a grayish tone. All sort of voices and screams filled the midnight cold air while the rain drops kept falling without rest. The group was still getting off the truck when a man dressed in a white surgeon costume all stained with blood approached them breathing heavily.

"Thank God you came!" Said the old doctor with a British accent. "We need your help immediately. Two surgeons and four nurses please, hurry up, follow me," pleaded the man already running back towards the tents.

Duvall, who was in charge of the group, gave his orders while running after his nervous colleague.

"Girard, Hamilton, Audrey, Bousseniers and Smith, come with me!" He shouted. "The others hurry up to download the equipment," he last said.

The small group ran frantically towards the tent taking off their coats and capes on the way and putting on the surgical robes that they took from a pile, which was on a big box casually left at the entrance of the tent. The view Candy was about to see she would never forget in her whole life:

There were three long lines of badly improvised operating beds in which exhausted doctors and nurses would try to perform one surgery after another in the worst conditions she had ever seen. Soiled dressings and cotton wool were spread all over the floor and on one side an old metal basin was overflowing with reddish water. The place was pitifully lightened by pale lanterns that the nurses had to hold at the same time they handed the instruments to the physicians.

All sort of painful cries could be heard from everywhere. Sometimes the hysterical shout of a doctor desperately trying to save someone’s life was perceived in the confusion.

"Ether, where’s the ether for Christ’s sake?! I can’t operate on him without an anesthetic!" A voice said in despair here, whereas over there, a man without his two legs was crying dreadfully, "Kill me, please! I can’t bare this pain!" He begged in a horrifying pitch.

Candy froze for a second. Everything she believed in seemed to collapse for that fraction. "Oh God," she thought, "where are you, my Lord?" But then an internal voice answered back in a reassuring way. "I’m here, and it was me who brought you here to do something for me."

Candy needed no more. In an extraordinary display of will power she got rid of her fears and began her work with an amazing control and efficiency. A case of five bullets near the pancreas, two amputations, two cases of mustard gas, one of phosphorus shot, three broken legs, and four cases of serious burns caused by shell explosions.

From time to time Flammy would eye on Candy expecting any mistake or sign of exhaustion to appear but the young woman remained working steadily, all her concentration focused in the work she was doing. It was not until November the 3rd when the sinister parade reduced its pace and finally Candy and her partners, all worn out and dumbfounded finished their shift and were set on leave for 12 hours. It had been over 24 hours of non-stop weary duty.

Candy sat down on an available chair outside the tent, without paying attention to the perennial rain falling lightly on her face. Her curly her was in chaotic disarray beneath the net she used to hold her hair during surgery, the unruly strands would poke out from here and there under her nurse’s cap. The surgical white apron was stained in red all over and an acute headache began to plunge its claws in her temples. She had not eaten but pieces of bread and drunk some tea in all that time. Flammy approached silently and stood up near her for a moment. Again, her eyes irises were moving fast as though intense internal fights were taking place in the brunette’s mind.

"I was wrong, Candy," she said calmly after some time of struggle with herself. "You do suit the job," she admitted and turned away, walking slowly under the morning rain.

Candy was speechless, it seemed that what she had heard was a compliment from Flammy. Candy could not believe her ears, but the figure of Flammy, who was already walking towards the nurses’ tents, made her realize that she had actually received a compliment from Flammy. It was a pity that she was too tired to fully enjoy this little victory in her persistent personal battle to gain Flammy’s trust.

It was not until three days later that Candy really had the time to talk to Julienne at her ease. Since they had arrived things had been just hectic and they hadn’t had any chance to do anything but work. Candy was worried about Julienne’s mood since they met the poor mad woman in Arras. The incident had shocked her with a special intensity that had changed her whole behavior in those days.

It was already late at night when Candy entered the tent she shared with other twelve nurses. There was none but Julienne absent-mindedly sat on her folding bed. Her eyes were lost staring at a locket she had enclosed in her hands. She had her long dark brown hair falling in waving strands on her shoulders. Her amber eyes were locked in incredible fixation looking at the object she had in her hands. It was a photo of a man in his early thirties with sad dark eyes and opened smile. Julienne’s husband.

Candy approached Julienne silently as if she did not want to interrupt her friend’s private moment. Then she noticed Julienne’s shoulders were shaking lightly, swept by hidden sobs. Candy placed herself right in front of Julienne and hugged her tenderly, just the same way the older woman had done with her back in Paris, the night Yves had tried to kiss Candy. Julienne lifted her honey eyes to see her partner’s face.

"Oh Candy," she finally said. "Since that night at Arras, I can’t stop thinking of my husband, you see, he wanted to have a baby so badly."

"You’ll have all the babies you dream of when this stupid war ends, Julienne," replied Candy reassuring her companion.

"You don’t understand Candy," she said sobbing. "I . . . I . . . can’t have children . . . my womb is too stretched . . . there’s nothing Medicine can do," she ended and her voice melted into her bitter cries.

This was Candy’s turn to feel speechless, she just did not know what to say in front of such a deep pain. Although she was aware of similar problems, she had seen just one of two cases in her nurse career. It was always sad to see the anguish and frustration of those couples that wanted to fulfill their desires to build a family but were incapable of making that dream come true. In some cases those things were even a cause for divorce, a terrible word on those days, and still even in our times, because of the dreadful pain it leaves in human hearts that have to endure the struggles of a sentimental failure.

Candy also thought of herself for a brief second. Will she ever have the joy of carrying in her arms a piece of life of her own? She loved children indeed, and she knew she would feel overwhelmed having a child she could call hers. But children are not born out of thin air . . . "Come on Candy," she told herself, " This is not the moment to be thinking of yourself, Julienne needs you now," she reacted.

"It’s fine, it’s fine Julie," whispered Candy motherly. "I was an orphan who never had the chance to have a mother of her own. I’m sure I would have loved to have a mother like you and a father like your husband. Have you ever thought of adopting a kid?"

"Gerard told me so," mumbled Julienne shyly. "But I refused then. . . Now, I do not know."

"You’ll have time to think about it Julie," said Candy smiling sweetly. "Just pray for this war to end soon. When you have him back, you’ll both be able to give a second thought to the idea, but if you keep on so depressed when he sees you again he will not be able to recognize you, so thin and pale you’re gonna be. Thus, cheer up my friend, someone told me once that I look prettier when I laugh, I think that goes with you too."

"Thank you Candy," said Julienne hugging the young woman gratefully.

Still in Julienne’s arms another disturbing thought hit her soul: "Does she already have a child with him?. . . His child . . . their child, not mine." The stroke of jealousy was still so strong within her that she hated herself.

He took off his felt hat, the dark brown wool overcoat and the fine-leathered gloves leaving all at the entrance of the large building. Everything was quiet though the place was actually packed with people. He pushed his silky sandy strands away from his forehead in a sign of annoyance. It was going to be difficult to find a place now that everyone was here preparing for the finals. In exam periods coming to the library was a real hassle.

With the corner of his eyes he perceived someone moving on the left side of the aisle. A young woman with chubby cheeks was about to leave the place she was using. "Lucky me," he thought at the same time he made his way towards the already empty chair. In an almost automatic swing of the arm he took one book and then another from one of the shelves while still walking in direction of the available seat. He took the top rail of the chair with a possessive movement and sat down quickly but without loosing his characteristic composure and elegance.

He unbuttoned his single-breasted jacket to reveal an impeccable white shirt beneath a silk vest with elegant masculine patterns in yellowish, chestnut and sepia colors. Pleaded brown pants matching the jacket and a bow tie finished the careful outfit that must have cost a fortune by itself. He took a golden pen from his jacket interior pocket and began his task. His stormy light brown eyes focused in the book pages as he nervously scratched some notes on the pieces of paper he had with him. Over two hours must have passed and he was still concentrated in the same title: Philosophical Principles of the US Constitution.

However, he was getting tired of the tiny little print and the intricate discourse of the author. All of a sudden, the Aristotle’s quotations seemed to jump out of the pages and danced around his weary mind. The letters melted in front of his eyes and in his imagination they got together to form a name, a female name repeated over and over along the pages.

He rubbed his eyes and leaning back on the chair took his hand to his shirt pocket. He got out a light pink envelope and took it to his mouth and nose. The soft rose essence of the paper filled his nostrils and overwhelmed him with prohibited thoughts. "She smells just the same," he thought with dreamy eyes not able to control his unruly mind. He had tried before hundreds of times, but he had always being defeated in that fight against well-rooted feelings, too old and true to be erased by the effect of time and rejection.

"I miss her so," he continued in his head. "Even if I can never have her, just knowing that she’s around overflows my heart with joy."

He opened the envelope and then the rose bouquet, even stronger, intoxicated him with the fragrance. "I wonder how it feels," he adventured to inquire, " how it feels to hug her tightly and plunge the face in those golden locks . . . My God!" he recriminated himself, "This way I will never get over."

He addressed his honey eyes to the feminine writing and indulged in the salutation:"Dear Archie,"...

True it was just a formality, something people write in all kinds of letters, but he couldn’t help feeling happy and savoring the words. After all, this was the first letter that she had ever addressed to him only. In the past, during his first days in Saint Paul’s Academy it had always been: "My dearest Stear and Archie." A year later, when she had left London to go back to America, they only knew about her through the letters she sent to the girls, always with a little note mentioning them: "Say hello to the guys" or "Tell Stear and Archie that I think of them too".

"I always think of you, Candy," said Archie for himself. "And now that you’re away I cannot stop this feelings longing for your company . . I’m also so worried because of you."

Archie was now scratching "c" all over a blank sheet of paper he had left. He had tried so hard all over the years. He had even managed to develop caring feelings towards Annie, who was a sweet and astonishing beauty he was proud of. He could even say that he had learnt to love her in a soft and tender way, but what he felt for Candy was different. Albert had insinuated that he should conceal those unrequited feelings even to his own mind. But he had surrendered and accepted he was hopelessly vanquished when it came to thinking about Candy. That was stronger than his will.

Yes, it was so different what he felt for Candy. It was an unrestrained passion inside him, something he could not control no matter how many attempts he made. In his crazy daydreaming he had already taken her countless times. When had this sick unspeakable habit begun? Perhaps during their days in London . . .

"Those gone days," he remembered. "Stear would never talk about it, but I know he felt the same about Candy. Maybe he accepted his defeat long time before I realized mine… maybe he did not want to see me as his rival; he was always so protective towards me. I don’t know . . . this has always been so difficult, the only thing Stear and I could never discuss. Then he had to appear. Damn you, Terrance Grandchester! My heart will never stop despising you acridly. If only you had made her happy I might have forgiven you for stealing her heart. But you stupidly screwed it up. When you broke-up with her I thought I would go crazy. It would have been so easy to end up my relationship with Annie then and try again to gain Candy’s heart . . . but it wouldn’t have helped at all. Candy would have rejected me immediately, not only because she has never felt anything for me beyond friendship, but also because she would never do anything to hurt Annie. I’m doomed to be passionately in love with a loyal and kind woman whose best friend loves me in the same way."

"I really hope you are living in a misery worse than my own, Terrance," whispered Archie as though casting a curse. "Yes, you must, because I at least have the gift of her close friendship and you do not have anything, despicable bastard!"

Archie had no idea how accurate his speculations were.

On November the 10th the Canadian army, that had just arrived to support the British at Passendale finally managed to weaken the German defenses and crossed the enemy’s front line. The Canadian infantrymen claimed the village, or what has been left of it, mostly ruins. The offensive of the allies was partially successful and the Germans were pushed back for 5 miles. A little gain compared to the 250 000 casualties that the whole battle had cost. As the hostilities ceased by the end of November in that point, the personnel of the field-hospital was reduced and the exceeding nurses and doctors were sent to another area where another battle was taking place: Cambrai.

Candy and her team were sent to that new location. Some miles from there, the USA Second Division was training in a safest area, away from the trenches where the British fought the Germans, waiting for the moment of its own heroic destiny. Such moment would not come until the following spring.

The field hospital where Candy was working was located less than a mile away from the reserve trench. In order to protect the troops from the deadly steady attack or the enemy’s machine-guns and artillery fire, both sides had build a series of trenches in which the soldiers fought and watched day and night. Both sides had at least four main trenches, each one about 6 to 8 ft deep. In the firing trench on-duty troops resisted the enemy’s attack or headed the offensive if the situation demanded so.

Behind this front line there were other three trenches. The cover trench, which was meant to support the firing trench and defend the position in case the first one was overrun by the enemy. The support trench, where the soldier off-duty lived in dugouts; and the reserve trench where supplies, food and fresh men arrived to be sent to the others through a communication network, in other words, tunnels between the trenches known as communication trenches.

Beyond the firing trench laid a barrier of barbed wire. If any man trespassed it he would find himself in no-man’s-land the territory between both enemies, death was easy to encounter there where one was exposed to open fire and far away from any sort of medical attention.

When the enemy ventured to go out of the trench and attack thoroughly it almost seemed a matter of luck for every single man. Sometimes the Central Powers would succeed in the attack and then take the other side’s trenches, sometimes the victory was for the Allies and the Germans were pushed back a few miles. That way both enemies gained and lost terrain in a fight that for over three years had not given many good results but caused countless tragedies.

If someone was hurt in the trenches his companions would take him to the reserve trench through the communication tunnels, the first aid teams, mostly composed by male nurses and military providers would help in the task. Later, the wounded were taken to the field hospital in the rear. However, when the fight increased dangerously, it was necessary to have complete medical teams in the reserve trench, so many were the wounded and so quickly the number of them got larger. This was a very feared job because the danger in the trenches was eminent. At any time the enemy could be there, assaulting surprisingly with bombs, gases or guns.

The battle of Cambrai was extraordinarily bloody and tragic. By November 25th the fight got harder and harder and from the field hospital a surgical team was sent to the trench. Three names we know were included: Marius Duvall, Flammy Hamilton and Candice White Audrey.

When Duvall learnt that two female nurses, including his ‘petite lapine,’ had been assigned in the team he protested firmly arguing that women were not normally sent in such missions. Unfortunately, his complaints were not heard because the situation was a real emergency and all the male nurses were already on duty in the trenches. More experimented surgical assistants were needed and Hamilton and Audrey had been pointed out as the best ones they had.

Despite the great peril, when Candy saw her name in the list she was amazed of not feeling anything in front of the duty she was going to face, the most dangerous she had ever faced in her career so far. With a serenity that she did not know she had Candy put one hand on her chest, beneath her chambray uniform she could feel the crucifix Miss Pony had given to her when she had first left Pony’s Home. "I’m in your hands, Lord," she prayed. "I’ll go wherever you take me. It might not be casual that Flammy is going with me."

The morning of November the 28th, at 5:00 am Candy was sent to the reserve trench where British soldiers were waiting desperately for the arrival of a new weapon and trying to resist as much as possible. In the fog of the cold morning the tired soldiers in the trench thought for a while that an angel in bluish uniform, white apron and metal helmet had descended to the hell they were living. But she knew it was just a young woman from a little corner in America.

"Miss Pony, Miss Pony," whispered Sister Lyn in Miss Pony’s ear. "Wake up Miss Pony, it’s an emergency."

"What happened, Sister Lyn?" Asked the good old woman waking up abruptly. "Is anything wrong with the kids?"

"No, Miss Pony," said the woman. "It is about Candy, we must pray NOW! She is in danger," she ended with trembling voice.

Miss Pony was used to this kind of premonitions Sister Lyn had from time to time. Experience had proved her that they all were accurate. So, when Sister Lyn said that it was time to pray for someone because he or she was surely going through great troubles at that moment, Miss Pony would not argue. On the contrary, she would join in prayer faithfully, no matter if it had to be done during the time of her nap, as it was then.

Miss Pony stood up from her rocking chair following the nun to the little altar they had in the room. Both women kneeled down in front of the crucifix and began their prayers in silence. Years later they would understand why they were doing that.

The surprised men did not give credit to their wide-opened eyes. The world must have been going nuts to risk the life of such an exquisite child in a job like that. But even when none of them agreed with the fact of sending a girl like Candy to a trench, their eyes would swell in gratitude for the heavenly view they were enjoying. Some of them had not seen a woman in months. Duvall was aware of this and kept a close protective eye on the girl, as much as Albert would have done if he could have been there. The good doctor did not know how much he would have to risk protecting the young girl that reminded him of his dead daughter.

The hours in the trench were long and heavy, more and more wounded were brought all the time. If Candy thought that the conditions of work were difficult in the field hospital, there in the trench were unspeakable. The place was narrow and dark. "How did they expect one could give stitches when everything is in almost complete darkness?" She wondered but since she did not have another choice she continued her job silently under the lurking glances of the British soldiers and the desperate cries of the wounded.

Then, the night of November 30th the terrible incident happened:

Candy, Duvall and Flammy were working in one sector of the reserve trench when a soldier came out breathing heavily from one of the communication tunnels.

"Please doc," said the man huskily. "There has been an explosion in one of the communication tunnels there are five men trapped there, we need your help. My young brother is in there."

Duvall remained doubtful for a second…it was risky enough to be in the reserve trench to adventure himself into the communication trenches, even closer to the front fire. He also was afraid for Candy and Flammy, if something happened to him. . . But then a small hand touched his back.

"We have to go, doctor Duvall," said Candy softly.

"I agree with Candy, we are here to safe lives," added Flammy, for the first time in her life supporting something Candy had said, "We’ll go with you doctor."

Encouraged by the ladies’ bravery Duvall took his instruments and ran behind the soldier followed by the two young women. The communication trenches were particularly dark and silent. Candy could hear her heart pounding as she ran behind Flammy. For a while there was nothing more, just the silence and the persistent beat of her heart through the black tunnel. Just a lantern in Duvall’s hand. Just the white laces of Flammy’s apron flowing in the air. They walked and walked for endless black corridors, at each step the sound of the front fire could be heard closer and closer. Duvall felt how dreadful waves of fear began to assault his mind. They were getting too close to the Fire trench.

As they approached the place of the explosion terrible cries of men shouting for help could be heard. A few men who had survived were trying to remove the pieces of wood that had fallen on some of the wounded. There was a man lying on one side. The explosion had reached him burning his back and braking his spine. He was asking for help in pitiful screams with his mouth spattering blood. Duvall got closer to him but immediately realized that there was nothing to be done. Candy observed that the man was wearing a kilt. He was a Scottish soldier. She kneeled next to the men and said quietly in his ear.

"It’s gonna be all right, Sir. We’re with you. You’re gonna be fine." Then she paused for a second. All of a sudden an idea came to her mind. "Do you know that small square down town Edinburgh?" She asked trying to bring a pleasant memory in the last minutes of a man’s life.

"Do you know Edinburgh, miss?" He asked forgetting for a while of his terrible agony.

"Yes, sir," she whispered. "I spent there the most beautiful summer I ever had."

"I believe you. My wife is from there. There’s a great view of the mountains from that square," he replied fighting the terrible trembling that assaulted his body.

"Now close your eyes and think of that blue sky and the green, green meadows," she said while a tear was rolling in her cheek, her hands reaching the man’s hand.

"I can see them clearly," he muttered. "Rose, my Rose," he last said as his head fell lifeless. The man had finally died.

In other circumstances she would have stay there to say a prayer before leaving aside what has just turned into another dead body, but the situation forced her to say her prayers while helping the other four wounded men. She could always cry for the horrors she was seeing some another time, in that moment it was vital to focus.

"I didn’t know you had been in Scotland," said Duvall while working madly on one man with a leg bleeding as a fountain pouring red water.

"Only once," she mumbled quietly.

The pounding of the detonations was getting louder and louder. At times Candy thought that her ears would explode. "Even if I live one hundred years, I will never forget this night," she thought while her hands moved rapidly. Ten meters from her spot Flammy was working with a man that had lost his left arm in the detonation. The brunette lifted her head and then she saw with horrified eyes a sudden light in the nocturnal sky. Another detonation, . . . the trench partially falling down . . . a mountain of dirt and mud over her . . . the pain in her leg . . . absolute darkness.

Duvall had also seen the light and the only thing his confused mind could think of in that moment was the young woman who was working by his side. It all happened in a second, before Candy could do anything Duvall was falling over her shouting in French words that she could not understand.

"Down!!! Candy Down!!!" He just managed to say in English before she could hear the shell’s detonation a few meters from their position. Candy felt how the big body of the man covered hers falling to the floor heavily. A second after, there was just the silence. A deadly silence in the Western Front.

It took a while. How long? She would never know, but after that imprecise fraction of time, a minute, an hour or perhaps a second, she opened her eyes but could see nothing but darkness, could hear nothing but silence. Then she perceived a heavy weight all over her.

She tried hard to free herself from that thing that was crushing her against the muddy soil of the trench. It was almost impossible, whatever the thing could be. It was way too big for her to push it away.

"Oh God," she thought. "I’m trapped"

Surprisingly, a few minutes later she felt how the weight over her body was removed at the same time a terrible groaned escaped from a male throat. It was not until that moment when she realized that what had been covering her was Duvall himself.

"Doctor Duvall!" She cried desperately when she finally understood what had happened.

"DOCTOR DUVALL!!" She shouted to the silence.

"Petite Lapine," mumbled a weak voice near her.

Candy moved nervously in the darkness, blindly padding the mud till her hands found Duvall lying near her.

"Doctor Duval?"

"Yes dear, I’m here but not for long," he said with a chuckle.

Candy reached a lantern with one of her hands and managed to light it up. With the help of the light she finally could see the man by her side. The blood was bursting wildly from his back. Candy had seen many awfully wounded men during the six months she had in France, but the view of Marius Duvall bleeding without remedy in the dark trench was beyond her professional resistance.

"My God!" She thought. "He is dying! He is dying because he shielded me with his body!!"

It was good that the light was so poor in that moment. Otherwise Duvall would had seen how pale Candy had turned. However, doing a supernatural effort she controlled her tears using all the strength she had left. She had realized that those were the last moments of that wonderful man on this Earth. It was not with tears that she would say farewell to Marius Duvall, the most cheerful and kindhearted physician she had ever met.

"Candy," said the man with weak voice. "Take the chain around my neck. It has my wife’s engagement and wedding rings. I want you to have them."

"Doctor Duvall," she mumbled. "That must be your treasure. If you give it away you will regret it when we get out of here," she said in denial.

The man laughed with difficulty.

"Have anyone ever told you that you. . .you are not a good liar, petite lapine?" He asked.

Candy lowered her eyes and smiled sadly.

"I’m afraid someone has already told me that," she muttered.

The eyes of the good man almost smiled in amusement. Not even in front of his own death he lost his sense of humor. But after that brief moment he got serious again.

"Petite lapine," he began. "Listen well, what I’m going to tell you. You have to get out of here soon. But please, take the rings with you. Keep them as a souvenir, if you want, and when you get married I would be very honored if your future husband, whoever that lucky man might be, accepted them as a present from this old man."

"I promise I’ll cherish your treasures, Dr. Duvall, just as your daughter would have done," she finally said taking the gold wedding band and the solitary diamond ring from the chain in Duvall’s neck. "I don’t know if I’ll ever get married, but I’ll keep these rings with love," she ended.

"Put them on, girl, you might lose them in your way to the rear."

Candy tried the rings on her left hand and wondered how they fitted perfectly in her finger. She looked again to the doctor. The shadow of death was already dancing in his eyes. She knew that look quite well because she had seen it too often in the past days.

"You’ll get married, petite lapine, and have beautiful children with freckles on the nose like you," he said and expired.

A lonely tear ran on Candy’s cheek as she closed the eyes of the man that she had learnt to respect and admire in the last months. "Why do all the good people I meet have to die in this way?" She asked herself but she did not have more time to indulge in bitter thoughts. The sound of far away detonations made her realized that now she was alone and she had to run for her life. It seemed that everyone else in the trench had died.

She gave herself a brief inspection. She was perfectly well. Just a couple of scratches in her right knee, but nothing she had never got before in her adventures climbing trees. She stood up giving a last look at Duvall’s dead body and with the lantern in her hand she tried to adjust her eyes to find a way out of the trench. It was then when she heard a moan. A feminine voice groaning in pain.

"Flammy!" she said. "Oh God she’s alive!"

Candy tried to move in direction of the voice, stepping from time to time on a dead body or stumbling with a piece of wood on the way. It was so dark!

"FLAMMY!" She shouted. "It’s me, Candy, hold on girl, I’m finding you in no time."

Finally, after endless minutes of search Candy could see the spot where Flammy was. She was sitting on the mud. She had lost her glasses and nurse cap and her leg was bleeding badly. Apparently the explosion had not reached her but pieces of wood and metal had fallen on her leg. Candy could see it was a compound fracture.

"Flammy!!" Candy cried running towards the girl. "Oh Flammy, do not worry. I’ll get both of us out of here. Let me help you." And saying this, Candy tried to spot the first aid kid that Flammy had with her before the explosion.

"Are you nuts, Candy?" Flammy said in a whisper. "You’ll never make it taking me with you. Go away, run for your life. Leave me here. Anyway, noone cares about me."

Candy couldn’t avoid feeling moved for the pain that she could feel in Flammy’s last words but nothing the brunette could have said was going to make her change her mind. She was going to get Flammy out of that damn trench, even if she did not want to be saved.

"I won’t take that nonsense, Flammy," Candy said firmly desperately looking around for the lost kid. Just behind a large machine gun she finally spotted the white box and run towards it as a stranded man in the desert would run when reaching an oasis in his way.

"I have to stop the bleeding," she thought. "She obviously has not looked at her wound, but she must know well how bad it is. I have to distract her."

"Flammy," she said, trying to start a conversation. "Do you remember when Mary Jane was showing us how to put a tourniquet? Do you remember that we had to practice it on ourselves and that I had to do it with you?"

"Yes, I think I remember," answered Flammy weakly. "I remembered that you sucked at doing that," she said and for the first time in months Candy saw something that looked a little like a smile in Flammy’s face.

"Well, then," Candy continued smiling. "I really hope to have improved in all this time, cause now this is exactly what I’m going to do to you, and after that I’ll put a split on that leg."

Candy moved her hands frenziedly at the same time she kept talking. At times the evening sky was lightened by a detonation coming from no-man’s land. She was conscious that another explosion could take place at any moment.

"Well, Flammy… I think I broke Mary Jane’s record," she said when she had finished her job.

"Perhaps," Flammy muttered.

It was not common to see Flammy so quiet, thought Candy, but given the circumstances and all the blood she had lost Candy thanked God that the girl was still alive.

"That was the easy part," said Candy to herself. "Now I’ll have to find the strength to carry her out of here. Oh God, lend me you hand."

Flammy was almost unconscious by then, but still felt when Candy placed her arm around her neck.

"What are you doing?" She asked. "We’ll never make it. Don’t you see I’m bigger than you are? Leave me here!!" She shouted.

"NO I WON’T!"’ replied Candy in the same tone. "If you die… I’ll die. If I live…you live. We’re a team and I won’t let you die here, stupid Flammy! Now shut up, try to cooperate and do what I say for once in your life, stubborn woman!"

Flammy was shocked to see and hear Candy’s reaction. In the years she had known the blonde she had never imagined that the girl could get in such a rage. Not in her wildest dreams had Flammy ever fancied that Candy would risk her life to save hers, in such a way, so stubbornly, so courageously. At loss of words for the first time in her life, maybe, Flammy Hamilton limited herself to follow Candy’s orders.

Candy helped Flammy to stand up with the only leg she could use in that moment. The brunette put her arm around the blonde’s shoulders and together they began a long journey towards the rear, along the dark corridors of the communication trench, guided only by Candy’s natural sense of orientation and a weak lantern. Candy began to seek in the depth of her soul for strength in that moment of distress.

"It is so dark," she thought. "I do not really know where I’m heading. Lord, guide my steps."

She remembered that when she was a child Miss Pony had taught her different portions of the Scriptures. The good woman had told her that those portions would go with her no matter how far from Pony’s home she could go.

"Even if we are not with you, Candy," the woman had said. "Even if you are terribly afraid, alone or lost, the Scriptures will be in your heart and so will the Lord."

"I will say of the Lord, he is my refuge and my fortress," Candy began to pray internally. "My God; in him will I trust. Surely he shall deliver thee from the snare of the fowler, and from the noisome pestilence."

Another detonation not too far away. . .

"He shall cover thee with his feathers, and under his wings shalt thou trust. His truth shall be thy shield and buckler."

The lights of explosions in the sky, a deaf noise from the darkest corner of the tunnel. . . .

"Thou shalt not be afraid for the terror by night; nor for the arrow that flieth by day; nor for the pestilence that walketh in darkness; nor for the destruction that wasteth at noonday."

Death bodies in one corner of the trench. . . .

"A thousand shall fall at thy side, and ten thousand at thy right hand; but it shall not come nigh thee. . . ."

It was dark and it was cold. Flammy was indeed so heavy. . .

"For he shall give his angels charge over thee, to keep thee in all thy ways. . ."

Was that a light at the bottom of the tunnel?

"Because he hath set his love upon me, therefore will I deliver him. I will set him on high, because he hath known my name."

"HELP!!" She cried. "I need someone help me here with my friend!"

 

[domniki]

CHAPTER FIVE

 




​

​

A woman for such a time as this

​

​

Destiny,


with its mysterious and fatal patience,


slowly drew together these beings,


all charged and all languishing with the stormy


electricity of passion,


these two souls which were laden with love


as tow clouds are laden with lightning,


and which were bound


to overflow and mingle in a look


like the clouds in a flash of fire.

Victor Hugo in "Les Miserables"

​

The first shy rays of dawn entered on tiptoes in the luxurious bedroom. Creeping on the hairy carpet, they had reached the large bed in which he was lying nonchalantly. Outside, the frozen night seemed to have yielded its obscure fleets to the blond light reflected on the white blanket of snow, all over the immense lawn in the Audrey’s estate. The room was dimmed and still but he was already awake, his light blue eyes lost in the depth of his own thoughts.

All of a sudden, he stood up putting on a silk robe with capricious brocaded patterns over a dark green background. His golden hair fell over his broad shoulder in careless disarray and his eyes looked slightly swollen because of the lack of sleep. He had not closed his eyes in all that night.

He approached the window and opened it to receive on his tanned face the gelid cold of the light snowflakes, tiny white dots melted on his skin. It was as if the morning chill could efface his internal turbulence. But he knew well that it would stay with him until he made up his mind and took the decision he was fighting.

The previous night he had attended one of those endless balls that he hated immensely, but without Candy to shield him from the dozens of frivolous women that were always chasing him, the situation had been almost unbearable. Fortunately, Archie and Annie had gone with him and had helped him a bit to cope with the continuous flirt of all those girls who dreamt about being the lucky woman to marry one of the most coveted bachelors in America. However, during those moments in which Annie and Archie would dance and leave him alone, the persistent assault of single, and sometimes even married women, did not cease making him more and more uneasy, restless and upset with a society he did not approve.

But the worst part had been when Liza Loka had managed to find him in the lonely chamber in which he had discovered a shelter from his aggressive admirers.

"Why so alone?" She had asked giving him the most seductive of her smiles.

"Uncle, you should not deprive us from your presence."

"Leave me alone," was his only answer, visibly annoyed by the young woman whom, he knew well, had caused the suffering of the person he cared the most in countless occasions. He had always regretted that he had not being able to save Candy from all the humiliations she had undergone in her childhood and teenage years because of the Lokas’ unexplainable hatred.

"You shouldn’t be so shy," she murmured ignoring his words and getting closer to the man with well-studied movements.

"He is so handsome," she thought, "I wonder the forbidden pleasures a woman can experience in the bed of a man like him, so strong and mysterious. If only I could make him fall for my charms. Then, I would be the lucky Mrs. William Albert Audrey, wife of one of the richest men in the country; and I could also take sweet revenge on Candy for all the things she had done to my brother and me. That would be just wonderful!"

"I could keep you company the way Candy used to do," she murmured enticingly and after a brief pause she added with a meaningful tone. "I could even provide company in a way she would never be able, the way only a true woman can."

Albert turned his face to see the young woman in front of him. In his cerulean eyes a mixture of disbelief and disdain could be read.

"I will pretend that I did not understand your insinuating words," he said with disgust. "You have no idea, Liza, how my heart despises your kind."

Liza’s face darkened as Albert’s words sunk in her ears. She did not expect such a frank rejection, so accustomed she was to succeed in seduction.

"People like you," added Albert as he moved towards the door, "are the shame of the human race, perhaps the only mistake nature had ever made. I’m really sorry for you. Now, if you excuse me. I have to leave," he ended as he walked passed Liza, while giving her a gaze full of scorn.

After that unpleasant incident Albert had come back to his mansion and concealed himself in his bedroom. Though his thoughts had not ceased taunting him during the rest of the night, always caught in a dilemma between his family duties and his own rebellious spirit.

Albert shook his head to clear up his mind. He was so upset, but the truth was that his uneasiness was caused neither by Liza, nor by all the long list of appointments he always had in his agenda.

"I’m just fooling myself. I know perfectly well that this kind of life will never satisfy me. I feel that I’m betraying everything I believed in when I was younger. Where are my past dreams gone, my convictions? Did I forget them in that train in Italy, or did it happen before when I decided to leave Africa? Oh Candy! Even when we are all terribly worried because of you I feel happy that at least you can follow your own dreams in France, doing what you feel is right, something meaningful, really worthy and noble. Whereas me . . . What am I doing? I’m just increasing the fortune of my family to help them keep their privileges, while other people die of starvation because of our unfair social system. What is this senseless life in which I have to surrender my ideals to my responsibilities as the head of the Audreys?"

Albert closed the window and walked slowly towards the rattan chair he had in his room. He sat on it as he sighed deeply. In the loneliness of his chamber he could always close his eyes and see the golden plains of Africa under the merciless summer heat. There, where nature was so close to men, where life was simple and humans could feel the touch of God, he had realized that only in those wild golden plains his heart could rest, it was the place he really belonged to. In those small communities away from the madness of occidental society, hierarchies were not so important, and every man was the lord of his own destiny. How he longed for that freedom!

"I admire those who live freely, only following the beat of their hearts, going wherever it takes them. That’s why I admire you Candice White. That’s why I respect you Terrance Grandchester. Why can’t I dance to my own rhythm then?"

A quiet knock at the door woke him up from his reveries.

"Mr. Audrey," called a deep voice that Albert recognized as Johnson’s.

"There’s a telegram for you I think you would want to read, sir."

"Come in," replied the young man with certain nervousness.

Johnson, always in his impeccable black tailored suit, came into the room and narrowed his eyes to distinguish his boss in the dim chamber.

"Is it from France?" Albert asked anxiously.

"Yes, Sir," replied the man in his characteristic phlegmatic tone handing in the white envelope to the young man.

Albert opened it as fast as he could. Candy had never sent a telegram in all the time she had been away. Always a letter every month as she had promised. But a telegram could mean so many things, none of them good.

Albert adjusted his eyes to read what the laconic message said:

Dear friends,


Leaving in a mission, Western Front. Not able to write in some time.


Take care,


Candy.

Albert’s eyes opened so widely that Johnson thought they would go out of their orbs. The young man’s tanned face had gone pale from the moment he had read the words Western Front, perfectly written in bold prints. His hands shook as he sat on the chair heavily. It took him a few seconds to recover his usual collected manners, but Johnson, who knew his boss very well, was aware of the great effort Albert was doing to stay calm and think clearly.

"Johnson, I’ll dictate to you a telegram that you will send to France at once," he said after some minutes of silence.

Always the efficient assistant, Johnson got a pen out of his pocket and taking one of the blank papers on the nearby desk he began to write what Albert dictated.

‘To Colonel Louis Martin Foch,


Dear friend,


It is with much concern that I learnt . . . ’

As he had already done in the past, Albert was about to alter the direction of Candy’s life as the marionette artist moves the wires of his beloved puppets, unaware of the dramatic consequences this new movement would have.

In the middle of the absolute darkness around her Candy realized that Flammy was falling asleep against her own will. Back in the trench where Duvall died, Candy had given Flammy an analgesic in order to help her to cope with the pain, now it was taking effect.

"Oh Lord!" Candy said. "What am I going to do if she cannot move? She is too heavy for me to carry her."

It was then when she saw a weak light moving in the obscure background.

"Please, help me!" She screamed urgently. "Help me save my friend!"

Nothing, nobody, just the silence responded.

"Please, help!" She cried again, the hopes shrinking inside her.

The pale light began to move slowly towards her jumping from time to time as if someone would be holding it and rushing at the same time. Seconds after Candy perceived the noise of male steps on the trench mud. At last, a voice answered:

"Hold on, I’ll get there," said a man with the hoarse voice of someone beyond his forties.

Little by little the surrounding darkness allowed the dim light of a lantern to brake its black cape. With narrowed eyes Candy saw a large man with chubby face gasping towards her.

As the soldier saw the owner of the fine voice he had heard, his eyes went wide in surprise. For a brief second he thought that he was finally having hallucinations after his long and awful shift in the Front Trench. But immediately, he understood that even when no one would expect to find two young women in the middle of such obnoxious corner of the world, he was watching them for real as a matter of fact.

"What are you doing here, young lady?!" Asked the man still astonished, at the same time he helped Candy with the already sleeping Flammy.

"We are nurses, sir," Candy replied gasping. "We were attending some wounded men in the tunnel but I’m afraid there was an explosion that killed everybody around except my friend and I, but she is injured as you can see."

"Yes," said the man trying to lift Flammy.

"Be careful!" Begged Candy alarmed. "She’s got a bad fracture."

"Do not worry, miss," said the man with a smile that Candy could barely perceived in the dimness. "An old soldier as me knows how to handle a wounded, man, or woman. You just hold this lantern."

Candy helped the man with the light still worried for Flammy’s leg. She was aware of the infectious conditions around and the disastrous consequence they could bring if Flammy continued being exposed. It was necessary to take her out of the place and get complete medical attention, the sooner the better.

The man asked Candy to follow him brandishing the lantern to light their way back to the reserve trench. So they began their walk along the sinister corridors, as the artillery thundered in the distance again.

How long did they walk and walk almost aimless? In the years that followed Candy asked herself the same question, but always concluded that her nervousness had not allowed her memory to keep records of those moments. They continued in the same fashion for almost a century, the man walking with the unconscious Flammy in his arms and Candy chasing them closely with the weak lantern in her right hand.

As they advanced more and more in the communication trench they reached a better-lit area, the absolute darkness surrendering to the man-made light. Another soldier saw them and ran to help the group, also amazed of the bizarre and ironic contrast between Candy's beauty and the trench horrific sight. Finally, they had reached the reserve trench.

The terrain had actually become a swamp. The Allies and the Central Powers had been fighting, opening fire, blowing, exploding, digging trenches and covering the fields with mines, all under the persistent autumn rain, until the soil was nothing but an incredible mass of mud. Both armies were exhausted but still the fight over Cambrai continued. Men killing men they had never met, assassinating people they did not hate, without any reason, for nobody, for nothing, but the ambition of a few powerful leaders, who would remain safe and untouched in their comfortable domains. For politicians know well how to stay away from the hell they create; whilst thousand other men keep the insane game of war alive by killing each other.

During the last week of November the secret weapon the British were waiting for, finally arrived. It was a complete army of threatening vehicles that Candy had never seen in her life. They were huge and armored monsters, armed with cannons and machine guns that would move on a caterpillar tread. In the battle of Cambrai men would attack using tanks in a massive raid for the first time in human history. Almost four hundred of those horrific machines were used by the British to attack the enemy and drive a five mile salient in the German’s line. On December the 3rd, the battle of Cambrai ended, with positive results for the Allied cause.

During the days that followed Candy could see the tragic view of those men from the enemy side that had been captured as prisoners. A long line of German young men, many of them under 20, would march along the British camp towards the train station where they would be sent to the rear. Fear and hatred could be clearly read in their faces, knowing that they had encountered a destiny that might be even worse than death itself, this is, being a war prisoner.

Candy’s mind struggled fruitlessly to understand the things she was witnessing, such a display of evil was beyond her understanding. What sort of bloody orgy was that thing called war? What kind of insane permission did men gain in such black days that allowed them to destroy, hurt and kill each other? How could human nature descend so lowly, to the depth of an earthly hell?

Stear’s memory was always in Candy’s mind during those days. In every young man she attended she tried desperately to save her old friend’s life. In every young man who died in her arms she cried again his death, mourning over the limitations of science to repair what the uncontrolled anger of war had destroyed in its senseless turmoil. Yet, she was wise enough to not blame God for the mankind’s mistakes, knowing well that we are but victims of our own weaknesses and ambitions.

However, there was a slight and perhaps a little selfish feeling that kept her soul bright and strong in front of all that destruction and pain. "At least," she secretly said to herself, "those young men I care for so much are away and safe . . . Albert, Archie, Tom, they have stayed at home and will go on with their lives without having to face these horrors . . . At least, thanks God, he is fine," and she repeated that again and again as a prayer to chaste her fears away . . . "He is fine, he is safe, he’s away."

Soon, her tiny hopes would crash in a thousand pieces against the vortex of war. Winter was then really close. During the first week of December it snowed continuously for several days.

Candy and Flammy had successfully came out of the trench and returned to the field hospital. The British army had received orders to stop the offensive and keep the newly gained positions until the arrival of the American reinforcements, which was planned until the following spring. Therefore, the medical personnel were again reassigned either to stay in the place or to help in other areas along the Western Front with much more need of capable nurses and doctors.

As Flammy was injured, she had received orders to return to Paris along with Julienne who was having a very bad cough, which could possibly degenerate in pneumonia if she did not get due rest in a warmer place. Candy was worried for her two friends, especially for Flammy, because recently she had perceived a characteristic odor in her wound. The ghost of gangrene appeared in her mind immediately, but she did not tell anyone about it, afraid of a very possible amputation. Instead, she began to irrigate the wound with dakrin acid without the doctor’s authorization and in front of Flammy’s scared eyes.

"What are you doing?" Flammy asked the morning that Candy practiced the irrigation on her leg for the first time. Her face was throbbed with panic, knowing perfectly well the possible reasons Candy could have to do such thing.

Candy looked at Flammy with motherly tenderness. After the terrible moments they had lived in the trench, Flammy had changed dramatically. When she had wakened up and found out that she was back in the field hospital, lying on a folding bed she had screamed Candy’s name, calling her partner with anxiety. A pair of caring arms had laid on her shoulder and answered softly.

"I’m here Flammy," Candy said. "It’s all over dear, we are safe here, now."

Flammy flung her arms around Candy’s neck and cried loudly. The blonde, astonished of her pal’s reaction, but always sensitive to human pain, received the brunette with warm acceptation.

"Oh, Candy! Why didn’t you leave me down there?" Asked Flammy weeping convulsively. "Nobody would have missed me in this world!"

Candy, who had already noticed Flammy’s poor self-esteem, pushed her friend lightly to face her and looking at her dark brown eyes full of tears, said in a soft but firm tone:

"Listen well, Flammy," she began. "I know you had a difficult childhood, those who should have been your support and shelter did not know how to do it. None of us can judge them, but you must have this straight, girl, whoever made you feel meaningless or insignificant was wrong, because you aren’t."

Flammy opened widely her big dark eyes, still not believing Candy’s words.

"Flammy, along all these years I have always regretted that we did not get along with each other back in the nursing school," continued Candy taking Flammy’s hands in hers. "I did not understand you then, perhaps I was not prepared to deal with someone like you. However, in all that time we shared room and studied together I grew a great deal of admiration for you, Flammy. You should be proud of the strong and courageous woman you are."

"Candy!" Gasped Flammy, not being able to produce any other word.

"I . . . I. . ." Stuttered Candy, not knowing how to confess her own admiration for Flammy’s courage and efficiency. "I wanted to be like you . . ." She finally said.

"Like me?!" Inquired Flammy confused. "It was me who was envious of you because of your popularity and charm!"

This was Candy’s turn to open her eyes in amazement. She had never imagined that Flammy could feel any kind of admiration towards her. She had always thought that Flammy considered her a weak and incompetent nurse.

The two girls stared at each other in great bewilderment for a few seconds. Candy looked at Flammy’s brown eyes, Flammy looked back at the blonde’s emerald pupils, none of the two women really knowing what to do. Then, after a long silence, they both burst into laughter hugging each other like two little girls sharing their favorite toy.

"I wanted so badly you to accept me and be your friend,"said Candy still hugging the brunette. "When you left, I felt frustrated because I had never got to reach your heart, Flammy."

"I told myself that I did not need the friendship of a girl so popular and cheerful," confessed Flammy on her own. "I was just trying to deny that your sweet ways were affecting me as much as they affect everyone around you, Candy."

"We both were really silly, then," replied Candy facing again her old classmate. "But this time, Flammy," she continued with a bright smile. "We can start all over again, and be friends. Would you like that?"

Flammy nodded and hugged the blonde again, saying the only words she knew were missing between them.

"Thank you Candy . . . for saving my life."

"It’s fine Flammy. It’s fine..." was Candy’s single response.

Since that moment Candy and Flammy moved into a friendly relationship, that was much more heartfelt and opened, though Candy could not compare it to any other female friendship she had had before. Flammy was still Flammy, and would always fight to keep most of her feelings hidden inside. But now, she allowed herself to be nice and even sweet with Candy, and from time to time she would even dare to trust Candy her ideas and fears, just as she did the day Candy began her irrigation treatment.

The blonde was now giving Flammy that caring look she always gave her patients in troubles and that made the brunette even more nervous.

"Candy, please," she demanded. "I’m not one of your patients to whom you can lie."

"I won’t lie to you Flammy," answered Candy in a serious tone. "There is a slight possibility of gangrene, Flammy, but I haven’t told the doctor because I have my reasons."

"Which reasons?" Inquired Flammy, even more nervous.

"You know well that the hospital is packing now," explained Candy. "So it would be impossible to practice any surgery right now, except those extremely urgent ones. If I tell the doctor about your problem now, he wouldn’t be able to do anything, but he might not allow me to do the irrigation. I want to give a try . . . because I think there is still a way," she paused finding it hard to finish her explanation. "There is a way to avoid an amputation."

Flammy’s face went pale. In her internal eyes she saw again all the appalling scenes of amputation she had seen. The idea of becoming a handicapped scared her to death.

"I will irrigate your wound," whispered Candy in the most reassuring tone she could used, seeing that her friend was petrified. "I’ll do it every hour until you leave for Paris tomorrow, then I will ask Julienne to keep on doing during the trip until you both get there. Once you see Yves, he will decide what’s best for you. I’m sure your wound would be fine and clean by the time you arrive to Paris, you’ll see," she ended smiling sweetly.

Flammy was not quite sure about the effects of an irrigation treatment in a possible case of gangrene, but now that she was beginning to believe that life could be more than dull work, she was not willing to reject the only possibility she had left to keep her leg. Therefore, she gave her approval for the experiment and promise not to tell her doctor about it.

"O.K. Candy," she said. "I’ll be your guinea pig."

In that moment someone entered the tent and Candy thought for a second that the doctor had arrived just to discover what she was doing without his permission. Fortunately, it was not a physician who entered, but Julienne with an envelope in her hands.

"Candy," Julienne said. "There is a letter from the hospital for you. It seems there are orders from the director of the hospital," she concluded handing the letter wrapped in an official envelope.

Candy took the message and opening the envelope quickly she read the few lines with startled eyes.

"Bad news?" Asked Julienne curious and worried.

Candy lifted her eyes from the paper and looked at her friends still confused and troubled.

"Come on, Candy," Flammy said, also intrigued.

"They send me back to Paris!" Answered Candy opening her arms in a gesture of incomprehension. "There is no reason for me to be sent back," she added. "This morning I was told that they were planning to send me to Verdun to help in the field hospital over there, and now they order me to go back to Paris, I just can’t understand this."

"Who cares, Candy!" Said Julienne smiling. "Don’t you see that means you’ll go back with us, far away from all this frenzy life?" She asked with happy inflections in her voice.

"Yes, girls, it is not that I’m complaining," admitted the blonde in front of her two friends. "But it is still strange. I wonder what could this mean?"

Candy shrunk her shoulders trying to forget about the weirdness of the situation, while she worked irrigating Flammy’s wound. Julienne stayed with them watching how the treatment was supposed to be applied and babbling all the while to ease Flammy’s pain in the process, as well as Candy’s troubled suspicious towards the new orders that would turn her life upside down.

Captain Jackson was again in troubles. The enemy was not only beating him on the black and white battlefield but also in the linguistic war they sustained. Since that evening in which Jackson had invited the young blue-eyed sergeant to play with him they had repeated the "friendly" encounter a great deal of times. But the game between the two men went beyond a simple pastime to kill those long autumn nights away. It became a sort of challenge for the older man who insisted in conquering two very difficult aims, one of them was to defeat the best chess player he had ever known and the other, to discover the origin of such an enigmatic character.

The very first time Jackson had heard the young sergeant’s speech he almost could swear that the man was British, but the following time he talked to the man his accent had changed in such an astounding way that he doubted of his own memory and phonetic knowledge. The second time they played, the few words the young man said were spoken in a southerner accent so clear and distinctive that Jackson felt he had been transported to Dixie Land. The following occasion the inflections in the sergeant’ words changed to a rhythmic chant that Jackson identified as the typical accent of Welsh peasants. At this point Jackson realized the young man was teasing him and in a tacit agreement both men engaged in a guessing game that Jackson was losing so far.

The point was to find out the young man’s origin without asking directly, discover all those details about his life that he was unwilling to share. Different questions came to Jackson’s mind but three of them were especially bothering him. One was about the man’s origin, the other about the kind of occupation the guy normally had at home - for Jackson knew the man had volunteered in the Army - and the third one, perhaps the most troubling question, was whether Jackson had seen his face somewhere before or not. He had the strange sensation he had met the guy somewhere, but could not recall where. He had tried different tricks to make the young man lose his iron self-control and give himself away, but none of them had worked despite the Captain’s efforts.

"Anything to drink?" Jackson had offered once.

"No thanks, sir. I don’t drink," was the laconic answer.

"How come? A man’s reputation is measure by his drinking skills!" Jackson had suggested with a grin.

"Then my reputation is screwed, sir. But I must insist, I don’t drink." And with that dry statement the young man closed the alcohol topic with a determined silence.

For a regular soldier the company of a man, who did not smoke, drink or talk about women, could be a real boredom. However, for the well-educated Duncan Jackson all those rare attributes were reasons to increase his curiosity and renew his interest in unveiling the mystery behind the blue pupils that regarded the chessboard with inhuman callous fixation.

"There must be something that makes him lose the guard he keeps over himself," Jackson thought. "There must be something, . . . but what?"

One of those nights, while Jackson’s eyes wandered across the dimmed details of his tent, his sight bumped into a bright object in the sergeant’s left hand. It was a gold ring with a single emerald that defied the beauty of spring with its green rays. The jewel had a simple and masculine design that emphasized even more the beaming stone under the timid kerosene lamplight.

Jackson wondered why he had not noticed such a beautiful object on his opponent’s finger before, but after the first impression he began to infer things from the fact. It was clear for Jackson that the man in front of him was not a commoner; the language he used, his manners and even his gestures were clear proof of a careful education. And now the detail of the ring, which was obviously an expensive jewel, told him that the young man did not starve precisely.

"Nice ring you’ve got," said Jackson casually. "An emerald I suppose."

The young man gave a brief look to his third finger, a sudden sparkle crossing by his eyes too fast for Jackson’s inquisitive sight. After, he just replied, "That’s right."

"May I see it, sergeant?" asked Jackson not willing to let the topic die and hoping it might bring him new clues to understand the human puzzle he had in front of him.

The young man got the jewel from his finger and gave it to his superior letting show certain annoyance with the Captain’s insistence. Jackson took the ring and exposed the stone to the lamp so that its light broke in a thousand rays within the dazzling green facets.

"It is a beauty," Jackson commented genuinely impressed by the gem’s perfection.

While the older man was still concentrated in admiring the jewel the young sergeant allowed himself to wander away, in time and space, far and apart from that spot of the world where they were stranded.

"The light bursting in a thousand green rays over the meadows," he thought. "Green were the woods, green the fresh leaves of summer grass. Deep green of the ivy over the humid walls, dark green on the mountains, soft green of the valley. In those times hopes were fresh and young, love filled my heart with green sparkles everywhere . . . Will I ever meet such joys again? Even the richest emerald pales in front of them . . . There is no use fooling myself . . . The green light of those eyes is lost for me."

"Here you are, sergeant," Captain Jackson’s voice said interrupting the young man’s trail of thoughts.

Jackson extended his hand to give the jewel back to its owner. A second before the man could have read interesting revelations in the sergeant’s expression, but when the older man had taken his eyes off from the hypnotizing gem the sergeant had recovered his usual composure concealing his emotions, so well-trained he was in the art of faking.

The young man put the ring back on his finger as both men engaged in the game. One of them tried again to find a way to win in his speech charade, the other experimenting in a bizarre mixture of feelings. He was amused with Jackson and saddened with himself.

"Jackson is not a bad player," thought the young man, "but he is just so interested in finding out the place where I come from that he loses concentration, makes very elemental mistakes and eventually loses . . . His obsession with language is quite funny, at least that is something we both share somehow. Since I started to play this sort of double game I’ve managed to overcome my boredom. Though my heart never rests, as if the load of my regrets were heavier and heavier as time goes by."

The sergeant felt a sudden ache on his chest that forced him to take his right hand to his chest. Jackson noticed the gesture, which was accompanied by a light frown that appeared on the young man’s face.

"Are you O.k. sergeant?" asked Jackson intrigued.

"I’m fine, sir," replied the young man as he made a new move on the chessboard that caught Jackson’s attention immediately and made him forget about the rest of the world.

"What’s this pain again?" thought the blue-eyed man. "It has come and gone from time to time since I arrived. Why is it getting worse tonight?"

Both men continued playing silently while the first frost of the year covered the woods outside with a thick white blanket.

The field hospital was moving in a chaotic order. Trains would arrive almost every hour taking the wounded men towards large hospitals in the South, carrying medical personnel to Verdun, or loading and downloading equipment. Just half of the people who were working in the hospital during the month of November remained on duty in Cambrai to take care of any casualty, in case the Germans decided to counterattack, but that was considered very unlikely.

In few days the Allies would learn that they had made the wrong movement. In December, the Germans fought back in a furious display of courage and the British Army lost almost all the terrain they had gained with their tank raid. Then, the trains began to bring back more and more personnel, not only medical, but especially military. French troops arrived to support the British. The railway was congested and some of the wounded people that were supposed to be sent to Paris had to be transported by trucks, which were much slower, but given the circumstances, it was the only option left for emergency cases.

Candy, Julienne and Flammy were sent back in one of those trucks the cold morning of December the 15th. Candy had wanted to stay in Cambrai but even when she protested against the orders she had received, her superiors insisted so energetically that the young woman had not any choice but following her orders. She could not understand why she was sent back when she was perfectly healthy and had proved more than once that she was capable enough to do the toughest work in the field hospital. She knew that with the unexpected German counterattack the hospital was suffering a shortage of hands, therefore it was absurd to send her to Paris. However, part of her was happy to know that she would travel with Flammy, and this fact would allow her to continue with the irrigation treatment the entire trip until they reach the French capital.

The three nurses along with five wounded men left Cambrai very early in the morning. An old soldier had been assigned to drive them all to Paris as soon as possible. The trip was considered a little risky because it had been snowing heavily during the previous days, so they were supposed to travel steadily to avoid major complications with the weather.

Julienne traveled in the passenger seat with the old driver while Candy and all the wounded were in the back of the truck, which unfortunately was not meant to transport so many people. Candy tried to attend everyone as best as possible and distract them with a cheerful chat; after all, the journey was going to be long and uncomfortable given the conditions of the transport.

Several hours had passed since they had left the field hospital and Cambrai when a tiny cape of flakes began to fall. Candy looked how the delicate white spots danced in the air with gracious movement and felt scared. She had seen heavy and dangerous frosts in Pony hill since her childhood and for some reason she did not get to comprehend, she felt that a similar one was going to take place soon. They had to hurry up to get to Paris.

"It’s a lovely view, don’t you think Flammy?"Asked Candy to sweep away her black presentiment.

"You could find beauty even in a old broken pot, Candy," said Flammy with a giggle.

"Come on, Flammy," replied Candy looking at the landscape through the narrow back window of the truck. "This place, the snow on the big pine trees, the woods and the silence, all that reminds me home." Candy closed her eyes to see the beloved house of her childhood and soft warmth filled her heart for a second. "I’m so far away from home," she thought. A shy ache in her heart appeared then and Candy wondered what it could be.

The trip continued under the snow that started to fall more and more violently. By the afternoon what had begun as a light fall of thin flakes had became a thick frost. Candy was trying to catch some sleep before the next time she had to irrigate Flammy’s leg when a rough jolt woke her up abruptly. Candy was still opening her eyes when a female cry coming from the truck cab made her stood up and opened the door in one single jerk. The truck had stopped and that was Julienne’s voice crying for help.

Candy jumped out of the truck as her boots stuck in the thick cape of snow, she ran with all her forces to the driver’s cab striding as fast as she could. There, Julienne was desperately trying to help the driver who was bent over the steering wheel.

Candy opened the driver’s door with a quick move of her right arm."What’s going on, Julienne?" She got to ask, but the man’s condition was soon clear enough for her. The man was having a heart attack.

Without saying more the two women started to do whatever they could to help the man that had fallen unconscious. Candy tried again and again to reanimate the man in a frenetic effort to save his life. It was as if the whole world had stopped in that cold spot of the world. All of a sudden, the sounds around disappeared as though Candy were trapped in a bubble. She did not listen to Julienne’s voice, or even to the sound of her own breath. There was nothing but silence and the basic need of saving a life.

"Candy!" Said a far away voice. "Candy!"

She did not answer but kept on pressing the man’s chest.

"Candy!" Said again Julienne reaching Candy’s shoulder with her hand. "It’s over Candy."

Then the sounds came back to Candy’s ears. The wind, Julienne’s voice, Flammy screaming in the truck.

"He’s gone, Candy," murmured Julienne softly.

Candy looked at her partner not knowing what to feel. If frustration because they hadn’t been able to help the old man or despair for they had been left stranded in the middle of the gelid woods still miles away from Paris. Julienne read Candy’s thoughts in her worried eyes.

"What are we going to do, Candy?" She asked, fear reflected in her voice.

"I . . . I think I could drive," answered Candy trying to keep calm though she was also scared. "You know I had this cousin of mine, he, he, he let me drive his car a couple of times. . . I think I could try with the truck . . . But first we have to decide what we are going to do with the body, Julie."

"What’s going on, you two?" Cried Flammy again, from the truck.

Candy left Julienne for a second and went to talk to Flammy to calm her down. Flammy was trying to stand up when Candy jumped on the truck. The other patients had also awakened and were addressing her an intrigued glance.

"Candy, why did we stop?"Demanded a very worried Flammy.

"It is just that Corporal Martin was not feeling well, Flammy," Candy lied not wanting to alarm the patients and Flammy. "You stay here and Julienne will be back with you in a minute, is that O.K. everyone?"

Not quite convinced Flammy accepted Candy’s explanation, partly because we always want to believe the best and also because she did not want to alarm the patients with her suspicion.

After a brief discussion on the matter Candy and Julienne decided to leave the body aside, not having any shovel to bury him or time to waste. The frost was getting worse and worse and it was not good for Julienne to stay longer under the freezing cold. When they had said a prayer before leaving the body alone, Julienne got on the back of the truck and Candy got in the driver’s cab.

She looked at the map and tried to figure out where they were, the road was almost invisible under the white blanket. In those days trains were still a more popular transport and roads were not as good as they are nowadays. Moreover, the war had swept away so many things in its mad havoc . . . there were not any signals around that Candy could follow. Once again she would have to follow her instincts.

The young woman breathed deeply as she turned the truck’s keys to start the engine.

"Stear," she thought. "Please, help me through this."

The truth was that she had never driven before but trusted that the many times she had seen Stear doing it would help her in that moment. She stepped on the accelerator and the truck began to move.

"O.K. God," Candy thought as she drove fearfully. "If you got Flammy and I out of that trench, you are not going to leave us here to die under the snow."

She again began her prayer not knowing that miles and miles away, at the other side of the Ocean, two more prayers were lifted to ask for her protection. The truck made headway for a couple of hours, while the wind and the frost increased merciless. The rhythm of the slow move, as a silent lullaby, made the passengers at the back of the truck fall asleep. Julienne only remained awakened; bothered by her continuous coughing and her multiple preoccupations, knowing that Candy was there, in the cab, trying to find the way out of the freezing woods. More than ever the place was full of beauty under the white snow cape and so mortal at the same time. The afternoon faded as the evening shadows started to fall over the vast horizon.

It was 7 o’clock in the evening, the same day, December 15th, Julienne will never forget it in her whole life, when the truck stopped for ever. In the darkness of the truck, Julienne listened as Candy tried to restart the engine once . . . twice . . . three times . . . many times. It was dead . . . Julienne thought for a while that she was just having a nightmare, but the noise of the truck door opening slowly and made her realize that she was living a harsh reality.

"Julie," said a female whisper. "Julie."

Julienne approached the door to see Candy standing outside. The frost had ended but the snow was incredibly thick. There, standing in the middle of nowhere, with the snow almost to her knees, Candice White looked at Julienne with a solemn glance the older woman had never seen in any human being on this Earth. For a moment Julienne thought she was looking at the image of an angel painted on the walls of her hometown church. She remembered that when she was a child she had admired the painting thousands of times, attracted by the image’s beauty but also terribly scared of the strong determination in the avenger angel that the artist had depicted. The young and naive girl from America that she had met 6 months before had the same expression on her face.

"What happened, Candy?" Asked Julienne already knowing the answer.

"The truck will not take us to Paris, Julie," said Candy in plain tone, unusual in her.

"Candy!" Julienne whispered, not daring to ask more.

Candy laid her hands on Julienne’s shoulder closing-up until both women’s faces almost touched each other.

"Julie, listen well to what I’m going to tell you," murmured Candy slowly, articulating each one of her words. "This truck is dead and stuck in the snow. We are not going anywhere on it, and if we stay here the whole night we’ll die frozen. It is clear we need help and the only person who can attempt to find it is me, so do not object or say a word. Just get in there, take care of everyone and pray, you just pray."

"Candy," gasped Julienne not knowing what to say or do.

"Do what I told you Julie," replied the blonde loosing Julienne’s shoulders.

"Come on,"she commanded with resolved tone. "Close that door now!"

Feeling as a little girl scared of her mother’s anger, Julienne obeyed Candy’s voice, dumbfounded in front of the blonde’s courage. Through the narrowed window Julienne saw Candy’s figured in her black coat disappear into the woods. The brunette did the sign of the cross and murmured:

"Pére! que ton nom soit sanctifié; que ton régne vienne! . . ."

"It is cold," Candy thought as her legs strode in the snow. "I’ve been this cold before, lots of times before . . . the winter in Pony Hill can be even worse. I remember that Annie was scared of snow when she was little, the silly girl . . . I wonder how she is doing now. Are they preparing for Christmas as I recommended? Next year, when this war ends, I’m going to ask Ms. Pony to prepare my favorite fruit pie and have it all for me, just as I dreamt when I was a little child and saw her preparing her pie the night before Christmas."

"My God it is so cold!!! Tom would always fight for the pie with me, that stubborn boy. Are Albert and Archie also getting ready for the occasion? They’d better be . . . I don’t want to hear them talk about business and college for a good while when I come back . . . I want to talk about how much I love them all, tell them how lucky I am for having their friendship . . . When I come back . . . Please Lord, if you brought me up to here, I’m sure you did it, let me live now to find help . . . It’s again dark, it is freezing cold, but I have to live. . . for them. . . Lord, there are seven people back in that truck, please! It is not for me that I have to live."

Candy moved as fast as her legs allowed it. Fighting mentally to keep her spirit high, talking with God from time to time and trying desperately to evoke her best memories for strength. She knew she had to keep on the move, awaken, focused and alive. Good memories were the only warmth she could get there in the middle of a lonely forest on the freezing European soil.

"These trees, are so alike our woods in America," she continued in her monologue, raising her eyes to look at the enormous pine trees, quite witnesses of her suicide walk. "Nothing like the freedom of the wind blowing on my face, while I sat on a tree top, the warm breeze of May. . . . The roses in Lakewood mansion, . . . the little house on the tree . . . Stear used to be so original, yes so original . . .Anthony had such a dazzling smile . . . I met someone else as dazzling as him . . . Where is he now?" Candy stopped herself, ashamed of her own thoughts. "How is it that even now I can’t stop thinking of you? . . . This pain in the chest . . . When I get to Paris I’m going to see a doctor."

Duncan Jackson had told his men that he did not want to be interrupted while playing chess, unless it was a real emergency. But stranded as they were, waiting patiently for the winter to pass by before entering in action, they did not expect any sort of emergency that night. The big man looked at the calendar on his desk.

"December 15th," he commented with a groan. "It is not winter yet, but it is incredibly cold out there. I think we have had all the snow the world can produce, tonight."

The man sitting in front of Jackson did not answer to his comments. Jackson bent slightly over the board, looking with mute concentration at the ivory pieces. After considering all the options he moved the pawn and saw his opponent’s face in a weak attempt to read his reaction. He knew too well that nothing could be read on the young face. It was then when Jackson lifted his eyes to see Private Stewart who had just entered in the tent.

"Sorry, sir," said the man timidly. "I’m afraid there’s an emergency."

Jackson devoured the poor man with his furious glance until Private Stewart blushed like a fresh beet.

"An emergency, private," replied Jackson. "This had better be an emergency, for your own sake, idiot, or I will make you work until you drop dead tomorrow morning!"

"Sir," stammered the man. "It is an emergency, indeed."

"So spit out, I’m losing my patience!" Shouted Jackson on a rage.

Private Stewart looked around the place, his sergeant was sitting at the chessboard so concentrated on the game as if Jackson and himself were not there. From his position at the entrance Stewart could only see the sergeant’s back, his dark hair and wide shoulders among the shadows in the place. For a second he thought that the young man was made out of stone to ignore the scene around him. Stewart was struggling to find the words to explain Captain Jackson what the emergency was about and the indifferent sergeant did not even notice.

"Sir," began Stewart. "There … there’s a…a woman in the camp!" He finally finished.

Jackson’s eyes narrowed at Stewart. It was clear that the Captain was about to explode.

"That was a good try, private," said Jackson ironically. "Now tell me what is going on, for real."

"This is for real sir," said Stewart bluntly. "There’s a woman outside, a young girl . . . she is asking for help."

"We are in the middle of no where private, miles away from any village inhabited," shouted Jackson. "And you are here to tell me that there is someone outside asking for help, and a woman of all people, huh?"

"I . . . I . . . I know it is not quite easy to believe sir," replied Stewart lowering his eyes not able to sustain the sight in Jackson’s eyes. "The lady is outside."

"Let her in," said Jackson, still not believing the private.

Indifferent to whatever was happening around him, the young sergeant did not move from his chair when Private Stewart said that there was a woman in the camp. He neither uttered a word nor made a movement when the woman finally came in. It seemed that the remarkably unusual event was not making any impression on him. His blue eyes were lost on the black and white board while his mind struggled to concentrate in the game. The strange ache in his chest was stronger than ever. Coping with the game and the pain was far enough to keep his attention away from the reality around. Looking at the absorbed expression in the young man’s face Captain Jackson was amazed at his absentmindedness. In that moment the woman came in.

"My God, young lady!" Said Jackson, forgetting about the sergeant for the first time in a couple of months when he saw a young woman with a large black overcoat soaked up to the hips. "What is a girl like you doing here, for Christ’s sake!??"

"I’m Candice White Audrey, surgical assistant of the American Expeditionary Force, sir," said the girl. "I’m in a mission taking some wounded military and medical personnel to Paris, but our driver died in the way and the truck’s engine died as well, maybe because of the cold. I left my partners – all of them sick, sir – in the truck, to look for some help."

If Captain Jackson had been looking at the young sergeant in that moment he would have noticed how his face had been transfigured just after the woman had pronounced the first word. His blue eyes went wide, his heart stopped, his hand loosened the ivory piece that he was holding as it fell lifelessly on the board, his face experimented a turmoil of countless emotions running wild, bursting, and exploding as a boiling volcano.

"That voice! Her voice! The voice that lingers in my heart! Is this another illusion? Have I heard her beloved name pronounced by herself? My heart aches so deeply …Candy!"

Jackson saw the girl and was not quite sure if he should believe such a fantastic tale of a fragile girl running in the snow to look for help.

"How can I be sure that you say the truth, young lady?" He asked.

"You can be sure about that, sir," the young sergeant replied standing up and turning to face the woman. "I know this young lady and I can guarantee that she’s saying the truth," he finished.

In front of Candy’s astonished eyes there was a man in his early twenties, tall, with slender waist and broad shoulders, brown chestnut short hair in a military style. His face was composed by a delicate nose, thin but sensual lips, strong jaw and the pair of the deepest intense blue eyes she had ever seen, shaded by thick dark eyebrows. At the first inflection of his deep and velvety voice she had recognized the owner even before he had stood up to face her. In front of her, in an impeccable green uniform of the American Army and black boots, stood up Terrance G. Grandchester.

"It is him!" She thought, astounded.

"It is her !" He said to himself, still unbelieving.

If we could measure the speed of thoughts that human minds can produce in a second, or rate the intensity of feelings we can sense in the time a sigh lasts, then Candy and Terri would have reached the highest score in that brief moment while Captain Jackson was still shocked with the events.

"It is you," he thought, dizzy and drunk in her presence. "It is not an illusion this time! It is really you, the same . . . but not, you’re not the same . . . you’re even more beautiful than last time, more seductive. I can barely contain myself from taking you in my arms right here and now! Your hair, Oh God I never thought it could be so long. It’s like a cascade of sunny curls, impossibly, wildly twisted, from your head to your waist! Your eyes are even greener, like a pair of tiny aquariums; your lips, those rosy petals.


Enchantress! You are even more charming now my darling!"

"It is you," she thought amazed, intoxicated with the sight of him. "You’re taller! You’ve also gained some weight, since the last time . . . that time you were so pale and thin that my heart twisted in pain . . . but now. . . Your shoulders are wider, your arms stronger, every inch of you even more manly that I remembered . . . You look so handsome in that uniform, love. I’ve been so afraid out there, Terri! How I wish I could run to you now for you to encircle me with those arms of yours! Yet . . . I cannot even move!"

 

[domniki]

CHAPTER SIX

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The end of the myth

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As any woman, Candy would have loved to be smartly dressed for such an encounter . . . Yet, nothing could be farther from the reality. The net that she wore to tie her long curly hair in a neat bun had been lost somewhere in her way through the woods, perhaps caught and torn by a branch. So her hair had fallen in disarray over her back and chest and, as it was wet, it had acquired a dark golden tone like polished bronze. Instead of one of the fine dresses she had back in the Audrey’s mansion, she was wearing her plain chambray bluish uniform with a straight skirt up to her ankles, and a black woolen overcoat on top of it. Her white leathered boots were drenched form her long walk in the snow and so was her coat. "I must be quite a pathetic view," she thought of herself, but she would have been thrilled if she could have read Terri’s mind then. For the young man’s eyes she was the most fascinating vision of beauty he had seen in his entire life.

"So sergeant," said Captain Jackson breaking the silence. "Since you are a man of few words I’ll grant that you say the truth about this lady.


Therefore we must find a way to help her along with the wounded people she left back."

Terri nodded in silence but could not give an audible answer because his attention had been suddenly drawn to the state of Candy’s clothes. She was totally soaked and trembling.

"She is shivering because of the cold, my God!" he thought.

"I think we should first give the lady some dry clothes, sir," suggested Terri with preoccupation reflected in his voice, as he grabbed his own coat resting on a nearby chair, and moved bluntly towards Candy.

"Get some dry clothes for her then, and once she’s ready we’ll talk about what we can do for the wounded," remarked Jackson. His eyes opened in wide amazement at the delicate care displayed by the man he believed to be cold hearted, who was now approaching the girl and putting his coat over her shoulders.

"I’ll show you a place where you can change that wet uniform, Candy," he said softly lowering his head towards hers.

Too dazed at Terri’s proximity Candy could only nod to Captain Jackson while Terri possessively set an arm around her shoulders to lead her to another tent. Outside and away from Captain Jackson’s portable heater Candy felt the temperature even colder than before. The snow was still falling persistently and Terri closed his grip around Candy’s shoulders to protect her from the chilling wind but there was no need for such a measure. They both felt so warm inside that the freezing gust was no match for their joyous heartbeats; the internal pain had mysteriously disappeared.

Terri led Candy to a large tent. Inside it, ten privates who inhabited the place stood up immediately as the couple entered, partly because an officer had appeared but also because of the unexpected presence of a woman in the camp. The men looked at each other in disbelief, unable to produce a single word.

Terri simply nodded to his men directing his steps towards a corner of the tent to take a shirt, a pair of socks and pants from a large backpack. He hesitated for a second but a second look at Candy’s feet allowed him to make up his mind. He also added a pair of black boots that were left on the floor under one of the folding beds.

"I know this will be kind of large," he said a little embarrassed. "But it is better than nothing."

"It’ll do," she replied addressing to him for the first time in the evening.

"We’ll leave you alone," said the young man trying desperately to keep his control. He then turned to see the astonished men behind him.

"Everyone out!" He ordered plainly leaving the place before the rest of them, but waiting outside to check that every single man left the lady alone.

Candy looked with fixation at the clothes that Terri had left for her over the folding bed. She began to undress with an incomprehensible nervousness . . . It was not the effect of the chilling night, or the great danger she had undergone during her almost aimless walk in the snowed forest, not even the precarious situation in which the wounded men and her friends had been left . . . This was a nervousness of other kind and Candy knew well what was causing it. It was that unique sensation in her heart, that pleasant uneasiness, that melting of her every muscle, that crazy rhythm of her pulse, which only one man on Earth could provoke in her, and now she had to undress and wear his clothes.

She stood motionless for a while, holding Terri’s shirt against her naked breasts letting his lavender essence invade her nostrils . . . but the following second the image of Flammy and Julienne plagued her mind and she had to interrupt her galloping heart as she began to put on the uniform. Then, the teasing waves of lavender inflamed all her skin and Candy felt that he was holding her body in his arms as he had done in the past.

"My goodness, Candy!" she scolded herself as she put on a pair of boots too big for her small feet, " You have to pull yourself together, girl! . . . remember, remember your position . . . his position!"

The last thought bathed her soul as a gelid shower over the heart.

Outside the tent another flame was burning in desperate sparkles. Guarding the place that had suddenly become a sanctuary, Terri waited at the entrance. His heart’s beats were tempting the medical laws, speeding up in a wild race. Even when the sole idea was impossible he was almost sure he could hear every single piece of clothe falling to the floor as she undressed inside the tent. Was it only his imagination playing with him a cruel game? The soft noise was a slow torture, sweet and unnerving at the same time. Terri’s mind had left aside any consideration about Candy but the fact that she was near him after so long time. Nothing else on the planet mattered for him as if the immense obstacles that kept them apart had been erased in an instant; so dizzy he was, still drunk by the effect of seeing her again. How tempting it was to think that with a single twist he could regale his eyes with a heavenly view. Yet, he did not move an inch until Candy appeared outside wearing his uniform and coat.

"I’m ready," she said without looking directly to his eyes.

Something had changed in her, he could notice, as if she had built a trench between the two of them while she changed clothes. They walked slowly towards Jackson’s tent fighting their personal demons alone, not knowing they shared the same torment.

Jackson had decided that the best thing to do, given the weather conditions, was to bring the wounded people to the camp where they could warm themselves and wait until the frost allowed them to continue their trip to Paris. So, he immediately ordered Terri to set a pair of trucks to find the stranded group. Candy, obviously, had to join the rescue team to show them the way.

All the while the short journey lasted Terri glued his eyes to Candy’s features under the moonlight, he felt tremendously lucky for not being the one driving the truck so he could enjoy a mental stroll over every line of her face. He thought that he had almost forgotten the immense pleasure he took staring at that little turned-up nose, those green eyes surrounded by large dark lashes, those lips that taunted his heart every time they moved to talk. He was at total bliss, an alien feeling for his soul that had been covered by shadows for almost three years. Suddenly, the furtive moon rays reflected on a polished surface caught his attention making him awake from his unconscious dream. It was a sparkle on Candy’s left hand that pointed out to indicate the way to the driver. It was a diamond ring spreading its white light under the black night. Then, the bitter truth – or what Terri believed was the truth – slapped his face violently forcing him to see his foolishness.

"A ring, a diamond ring on her third finger, accompanied by a band . . . a wedding band!" He told himself. " ave you forgotten that, you moron? She’s married, she’s forbidden. How easily you ignored that little detail! Didn’t you? Stupid heart beating savagely, daydreaming of those lips that belong to another!"

"Are you O.K.?" Candy asked interrupting his mental torture. "You paled all of a sudden!" She added with great concern.

"I’m fine," he mumbled turning his face to cover his internal turmoil.

From that moment Candy felt that Terri had built his own wall against the one she had built herself since she had come out of the tent wearing his clothes. However, she had to admit it, those boundaries she had set, had stood up precariously, and had almost fallen, under the intense scrutiny of his gaze during the trip.

"It’s better this way," she thought sadly. "I cannot stand his eyes on me without giving away what I feel, soon or later."

It only took them a few minutes more till they finally saw the truck over the snowed surface. As soon as their truck stopped Candy jumped off before than anybody running fiercely towards her friends.

The stranded truck’s back door opened to reveal a young woman on a black cape running towards Candy as she also cried out the blonde’s name. The two women intercepted each other half of the way to hug joyfully.

"J’ai pensé que je ne te reverrais plus, mon amie! ( I thought I wouldn’t see you again)" Said Julienne too excited to speak in English.

"Your prayers must have been more faithful than your thoughts, then," Candy replied, laughing.

Terri observed the two women with delight despite the heaviness that had gained his heart after he realized the presence of the wedding band on Candy’s hand.

"Everyone loves my sweet freckled girl," he told himself, but an internal voice argued. "She is not your girl, do not forget it."

"Yes, I know," he responded to himself. "But. . . that man . . .!"

A pungent poison filled Terri’s heart with unexpected, obscure passion. For the first time in the evening his eyes opened to see the brutal reality he was witnessing and its dramatic implications. His mind had at last realized in a sudden insight that the woman he loved was there, in the middle of the mortal vortex of war, when he had believed she was miles and miles away, safe and protected. She had been walking in the midnight freezing cold, risking her life, and even worse, she was coming back from the Front line! She had been working close to the enemy’s fire! What kind of man was that husband of hers that allowed such an aberrant thing? Should an angel wander in hell? What kind of undeserving, miserable, bloody idiot was that man?

An insane mixture of jealousy and indignation possessed Terri setting him in such a bad mood that if Candy’s supposed husband had been there, the young man would had strangled him until the imaginary rival exhaled. However, knowing well that it was impossible to kill the "despicable moron", he limited himself to satisfy his anger ordering his men with an incredible rudeness that amazed Candy and Julienne.

Thanks to Terri’s abrupt display of "energy" it did not take them long to transport the wounded to the camp, where they were checked-up by the troop doctor, who gave his total approval to the treatment Candy was applying on Flammy. The blonde felt a great release when she heard the physician’s diagnose, assuring her that Flammy was surely going to heal without needing an amputation.

When they were all installed in a tent properly heated, and everybody had fallen asleep, surrendering to the extreme emotions they had experimented during the journey, Candy went out of the tent, hoping that the chilling dawn would help her to silent the uproar in her head. How could she possibly sleep still wearing Terri’s clothes? Nevertheless, she did not dare to change into her own uniform now that she had her light luggage with her . . . reluctantly holding the sweet sensation of his closeness, despite the principles that prevented her to feel such things about a man she supposed married.

The shy beams of the sunrise caressed with their warmth Candy’s cheeks coloring them with a pink blush. The purple light dyed rosy and golden tones on the white cover between the trees’ foliage. The wind between the branches seemed to repeat the name she wanted to forget, teasing her with its whistle. Candy took a large bite of the morning freezing air. Inside, her throat began to suffer an unpleasant irritation, undeniable proof of the cold she had caught from her walk in the forest. Then, as if she had been shaken by an internal earthquake, her heart felt a well-known presence behind her back.

"What are you doing here?" Asked Terri with an inexplicable annoyance in his voice.

Despite her enormous fear, Candy turned her head to face the coldest eyes, which under the playful light of dawn, were changing from blue to green and back to blue in an icy iridescence. She remembered that expression in his sight before, long time before . . . Terri was suddenly mad at her, and she could not understand the reason he could have to be so upset.

"I could not sleep, and came here to watch the sun rise," she replied lowering her eyes, not able to sustain his intense gaze.

"That’s not the answer I want," he blurted acrimoniously. This time his tone hurt her especially. She was there, fighting against her unbearable desires to fling her arms around his neck and cry out her love for him, and he treated her as though she had committed a crime. Her heart ached more than ever. But Candy had gone through so many difficult times before that somehow her character had developed a sort of defensive set of reactions that would be turned on almost automatically. It was that self-defense mechanism that was immediately activated and gave her the courage to respond with equal force to Terri’s provocation.

"So, what kind of answer do you expect?" She replied abruptly.

This time it was Terri’s turn to feel again that old pain inside his chest. However, he was determined to find the answer he needed.

"What are you doing here, Candy, among this war, so far away from home? Don’t you see that this is not a place for a woman? Couldn’t you just stay home where you belong?" He burst in bitter inflections.

Candy’s eyes opened widely. So that was it, she thought, just a sexist attack within him! Her woman’s pride swelled inside her. She was, after all, a woman from the suffragettes’ age and the slightest insinuation that certain places and tasks could not be reached by women enraged her in indignation. If someone dared to express a negative opinion about women Candy would always brandish a large set of arguments in defense of the female race and despite her love for Terri, that was not going to be an exception.

"I didn’t know you were so old fashion, Terrence!" She replied visibly angry, not knowing that in the whole sentence she had uttered one single word had been enough to tear Terri’s heart into pieces. Since their unexpected reencounter the night before Candy had never addressed to the young man using his name, and then she had burst with irritation his first name instead of the more informal one that only his intimate friends used to call him.

" Terrence!" He thought. "Now you call me Terrence! Has life taken us so far away and apart that you don’t even remember the way you used to call me, love?"

Candy was so angry that she did not notice the gleam of pain that crossed his eyes. Instead, she went on with her rebel speech.

"Maybe you hadn’t noticed, but we are in the 20th century. Women had proven themselves to be capable enough to perform any kind of work, given the training, and let me tell you that I am an efficient and well trained nurse!" She said in a rain of arguments.

Every word sunk in Terri as a cold shower. That was not his point at all. What he wanted, needed urgently to know was why the undeserving bastard that Candy had married had allowed her to risk her precious life coming to France as a war nurse.

"That’s not what I meant!" He cried desperately, and then he regretted his angry response.

"Ah really?" She asked ironically. "What other reason could you have to ask me for explanations to justify my presence here Terrence?"

"Then again she called me Terrence," he thought frustrated turning his face aside in annoyance, a gesture that Candy also misunderstood.

"Perhaps I should also ask you the same question," she continued, this time exposing her own fears for his security. "What are you doing here Terrence? For Christ sake! You are not a soldier, you . . . you are an actor, an artist! Why would you risk your life in this senseless fight? This is not your place either."

"That’s a different thing!" Answered Terri also hurt in his manly pride. "I came here to defend our country. It is a matter of honor a girl could not understand."

"A matter of honor! Our country!" She laughed scornfully. "Nonsense! This is not a matter of patriotism, this is just a devilish, mad and stupid nightmare created just to satisfy the ambitions of politicians and business men without scruples!" Said Candy vehemently increasing her voice pitch and with her face blushed by the indignation, ‘Naive young men like you, enrolling in this madness just sacrifice their most important treasure, which is life, for the sake of those rich fools!"

"I can see that you can turn quite visceral about this matter," replied Terri with an air of mockery in the voice. By that time of the argument his combative self was already trapped in the verbal fight and did not want to relinquish the excitement of it. "Though you are also supporting this madness, as you call this war, by being here. Have you realized that my dear feminist leader?"

He had forgotten how pleasant a good fight with Candy could be. She had always been the only person with whom he could argue and enjoy the feeling of it in a sort of flirtatious game he found almost erotic.

"Even a blind man could see the difference!’ she retorted with equal fervor. "You asked me what I am doing here, well, I’ll explain it to you as if you were a five-year old, since you seem not to understand it quite well. I am here because I AM A NURSE. I received training to serve as a surgery assistant. I am here in an attempt to repair what those weapons from hell do to men. I am here to save lives, whereas you are here just to kill and I do not see any honor in that!" She ended, her cheeks had flushed bright red, her eyes were shining as green swords under the new day light. Terri loved her even more in that second, overwhelmed by the natural display of her untamed spirit. This was the woman that had charmed him since his school years!

His eyes suddenly changed from his mocking expression to an intimate tenderness she also had known before in him. Even when it had hurt her to see him mad a few minutes before she had to recognize that it was a lot much easier to deal with his anger; his sweetness, on the contrary, was awfully difficult to bear. She lowered her eyes and stepped back froze for a second, but then the enchantment broke into a thousand multicolor lights and she had not option but running away back to the tent, fleeing from the intense force that as a magnet, pushed her into his arms. A place she believed forbidden!

Terri saw her as she ran away from his presence, still paralyzed by the overpowering waves of her voice. Saint Paul’s Academy freckly mutineer had evolved into a splendid and rebellious woman with ideas in her head that could excommunicate her very easily but also made her absolutely seductive to his eyes.

"God!" He thought regretful. "That is the woman I stupidly lost! One of a kind!"

His mind flew back to the past, towards other time, other life, other fate; a couple of years before. He was driving his car along New York’s streets, his long chestnut strands floating with the summer air. His eyes were absentmindedly lost in the traffic while a quiet figure sat in the passenger’s seat looked at him adoringly. It was a woman with fair features and long blond hair that fell in straight silky strands over her back. She was tastefully dressed with a blue chiffon gown that fitted well with her eyes of a turquoise tone. It was his fiancée, Suzanna Marlow.

On the back seat Mrs. Marlow, was looking to his future son in law from time to time with an air of mistrust, when she did not get distracted with the lights of the city or the luxurious neighborhood they were driving through. The conversation had died leaving the three of them in an uncomfortable silence that Terri seemed not to mind.

"Look what a beautiful house Suzie," commented Mrs. Marlow casually pointing to a huge residence with a large garden in the front yard.

"That is exactly the place where we are heading," said Terry dryly while twisting his wrist to move the steering wheel towards the mansion. They parked behind a large line of cars in front of the residence. The sound of an orchestra, voices and laughter came from the house. The party they had been invited was at its highest point.

Terri came out of the car to open the trunk and get Suzanna’s wheel chair. His every move in an automatic mode, his mind in blank, his heart paralyzed. His life had turned into an endless list of appointments, social obligations, rehearsals, performances, long nights at a hospital waiting lounge, and emptiness. This was just another one of those long evenings in which his head would have to block the annoyance that Susanna’s senseless babbling caused him, by locking himself in his interior world.

The sound of the wheel chair preceded them announcing the arrival of one of the most famous couples in Broadway. The show was on and Terri had to perform again the role he had chosen. He knew that people were anxious to see them together since Suzanna had been in hospital for over a month in one of her regular stays because of her precarious health. Now that she was feeling better everyone was expecting her appearance by the arrogant actor’s side.

This party at Mr. Charles Spencer’s, well-known banker and Shakespeare’s fanatic, was not different from any other Terri regularly attended; boring, frivolous, and full of intrigues that made Terri feel sick. Suzanna would mingle with the people around chatting with other females but always stuck to Terri’s side or glancing at him in the distance, when he left her to have a guy talk with Mr. Hathaway and other actors of their company.

That night they were together in a group and the conversation moved into an unexpected topic: should women vote?

"I really think that is absolutely out of our league," said a skinny lady with spectacles. "We do not have any interest in politics. Why should we vote, then?"

"Well, madam, history has proved that women can also get involved into politics with success’ commented Mr. Hathaway, sipping his cognac slowly. "Take Elizabeth I and Queen Victoria, for instance."

"Those were fortuitous and exceptional cases," commented another woman in the group.

 


"But most women are totally unaware of our political situation, we could not take part in such an important decision as choosing the United States President. For example, I don’t even know the differences between the Republican and Democratic parties."

"Not all women are like that," suggested with a smirk, a young lady with smart look and long nose. "There are many of us that are really concerned about our country’s affairs and want the right to express our opinion by choosing our leaders, just as men do."

"That is one of the biggest foolishness I’ve ever heard, if the ladies here excuse my honesty," said Mr. Spencer, the host of the party. "If we allow this nonsense of women’s vote go on the world will soon or later collapse. What would go next? Women taking all sort of jobs, not wanting to get married, or having children, female lawyers, mechanics, engineers, and who knows, we might even end by having a woman in the White House."

"Would that be so bad?" Asked Terri taking part in the conversation for the first time, kind of seduced by the possibility of shocking the audience. "We have never tried it before, but we might even like to have a feminine touch in the Oval Office."

Susanna’s gave a flashing glance to Terri, reproaching him with her eyes the bold comment that somehow dared the host’s ideas.

"Well, let me tell you my dear Mr. Grandchester that I would strongly be against such an aberrant fact," replied the old man with certain air of irritation. "Women are meant to be gracious creatures to enlighten men’s lives. Gentle and feminine occupations such as art, charity, the household chores and the raising of children should be their world."

"I agree with you, Mr. Spencer," said Mrs. Marlow with a faked smile. "That is why I encouraged my Suzie to become an actress, despite what some people believe, I think it is an honorable profession according to woman’s nature. Something related with art, you know."

"That is so, Mrs. Marlow," said Mr. Spencer, knowing that he would have to lie politely and pretend that he approved the show business as a career, when the truth was that he, as most high society members, was still reluctant to accept such a profession as an honorable one. "I am not against women’s work, but there are certain extremes I just cannot bare. During the last business trip I made, I met a very fine and extremely rich family that suffers a real tragedy. One of the women in the family, a real black sheep, is indecent enough to live alone in an apartment of her own, and not happy with that, insists in working to pay her bills when her family is one of the wealthiest in the country!"

"I don’t see the reason to be shocked with that," remarked Terri again, despite Suzanna’s tightened grip on his hand.

"I can see that you tend to be very liberal, Mr. Grandchester," responded the old banker, and then addressing to Suzanna who had remained silent since the conversation had turned so difficult. "But what does your fiancée think of all this? Would you like to vote Miss Marlow?"

"I don’t really care about those matters, Mr. Spencer," responded Suzanne with lowering eyes and shy tone. "I think we can leave those issues in men’s hands. Instead of exposing ourselves to the public scorn, chaining our hands to street lampposts or marching in front of the White House, we should devote our lives to our families and husbands. We can leave them the thinking."

"That’s the way a real woman talks, Miss Marlow," said Mr. Spencer with an approving smile. "You’ve chosen the right woman, Grandchester, yes you have indeed."

Terri nodded in silence to indicate that he accepted the compliment.

"Yeap, sure," he thought. "The most aired headed girl I could have found."

Terri came back to his present, over the French snowed landscape, under the freezing cold of that December morning, he understood with the most absolute clarity that he loved every single inch in Candy’s soul just as much as his heart rejected Suzanna’s dull and conventional ways. Why had he let Candy go when he knew perfectly well that she was the woman in his life? He had never forgiven himself ever since.

It was a wonderful winter day. It had snowed over Pony Hill and the lake was covered with a thick ice layer that invited to skate and have that kind of fun children love. Albert and Archie had gone out to try the ice resistance and see if it was safe for the kids while Annie and Patty had stayed in the house. Sister Lyn and Miss Ponny were busy with the kids breakfast and the two young women were in the living room fixing the Christmas tree.

Annie was looking with admiration mixed with fear at the large tree that Albert had bought for the children. It was a really nice thing but the idea of decorating the huge pine up to the top scared her to death. They had bought a small ladder to help themselves in the task and a thousand ornaments were spread on the floor waiting for their turn to be placed on the green foliage.

Patty looked at Annie with hesitant eye. Who of the two of them was going to climb the ladder and how they were going to place the golden garlands around the tree, those were the questions written in her face, which had gained a sweet air of distinction with the arrival of her ninetieth anniversary.

"Don’t look at me that way, Patty," cried Annie with frightened eyes. "I am not going to jump on that."

"Neither am I, then," Patty replied laughing at their silliness. "Didn’t you tell me that you used to help Miss Ponny and Sister Lyn to decorate the Christmas tree when you lived here?"

Annie opened her arms in an excusing gesture.

"Well, first of all the tree was never this big then, and…" the girl paused and a shadow crossed her face.

"And?" Insisted Patty who had not noticed the sudden change in Annie’s expression because she was lost staring at the pine tree.

"It was always Candy who jumped on whatever was near the tree to place the star on the top," said Annie with tearful face and weak voice.

Patty looked at her friend and not able to stop her own tears hugged her with tenderness.

"Oh Annie, I miss her so much too," murmured Patty as she caressed Annie’s silky hair.

 


"Though we should keep the spirit high. Don’t you think that is how she would like us to behave?"

"Yes, Patty, I know," replied Annie still locked in her friend’s embrace. "But it has been over a month since her last letter. I’m terribly worried," she said and continued to cry with louder sobs.

Patty felt as if a poisoned knife had stabbed her heart when the last words Annie had said finally sunk in her ears. When Stear’s letters suddenly stopped arriving at their regular pace, it was the first announce of his tragic death. Patty could not avoid an acute fear expanding across her spine as her mind made a pessimist association between Stear’s case and Candy’s present situation. It was just a brief thought that flashed and then disappeared in her head. Though, the hard lesson life had given her, had eventually made her strong enough to control those inner fears, and knowing that her friend needed comfort she put aside her own consternation.

"Oh Annie," she said not loosing her grip on the brunette’s shoulders. "Candy must be too busy to write during these days. Besides, you know well that mail does not always arrive to its destination. Her letters could have got lost."

"You think?" Annie asked trying to seize the shy flame of hope in Patty’s words.

"Of course, dear!" Replied Patty reassuring. "Now wipe those tears away and stop being so blue. Candy would be very sad if she saw you like this," she added handing a handkerchief to her friend.

Annie took the white and embroidered piece of clothe and sat on Miss Ponny’s rocking chair whilst Patty sat down on the floor taking Annie’s free hand into hers. Annie looked absentmindedly at the window glass with her tearful brown eyes. In the distance, the top of an old tree covered with snow could be spotted easily. For a while it seemed that the constant children’s noise had disappeared to be replaced by a solemn silence not quite usual in the house. It was as though the oddness of the moment had claimed the two friends’ hearts filling them with an unexpected uneasiness.

"You know, Patty…" whispered Annie with plain voice.

"Yes?"

"Sometimes. . . sometimes I hate myself," Annie blurted finally hiding her face in her hands and allowing her sobs run freely from her throat.

Patty saw her friend not believing what she had heard. In all the four years she had known Annie, Patty had never heard such bitter words from the brunette.

"What are you saying Annie?" Asked Patty still astonished

Annie raised her eyes to face Patty’s. In their depths, waves of regret and pain could be read.

"I hate myself, Patty," she repeated sadly. "I’m not what everybody believes."

"But Annie, what do you mean with all that?" Wondered Patty alarmed and holding Annie’s hands with a tight grip.

"I’m just a selfish and spoiled brat, Patty," Annie cried out. "A brat who betrayed the person that has loved me the most!"

"Annie!" Gasped Patty shocked by the unexpected confession. "Where do you get those ideas? You are one of the kindest persons I have ever met."

"You think that because you don’t really know me well, Patty," replied Annie standing up and moving towards the window. "You see this beautiful dress?" She asked taking her fine tartan skirt that Archie had given her as a birthday present. "Well, I shouldn’t be wearing it. The house I lived in, the education I received, my parents, my boyfriend and even my future, all that I have does not belong to me. I stole every single thing I have!" She ended with shaking voice.

"Stolen?" Asked Patty. "Annie! I don’t understand why you are tormenting yourself saying all those things."

"I stole this life Patty! I stole it from Candy!" Annie exclaimed among sobs.

Patty, still clueless hugged Annie offering her an unconditional acceptance despite the incomprehensible guilt Annie was unveiling.

"It’s all right, Annie," Patty murmured.

"Oh Patty! All the sorrows that Candy has suffered should have been mine. I. . . I… was adopted because she refused my father’s offer first." Annie confessed. "My father wanted to adopt her, but I begged Candy to stay with me, here at Pony’s Home. She wanted to have parents just as much as I did, though she did not hesitate to renounce to the chance of her life for me. On the contrary, when they asked me if I wanted to be their daughter . . . I . . . I didn’t refuse. Oh Patty! I usurped her place in life!"

Patty, who was then facing Annie and holding her by the shoulders, did not believe her ears at the beginning, but after the first shock caused by Annie’s guilty revelations, Patty managed to articulate some words of comfort.

"Annie! You were just a kid then. How old were you then, five or six?"

 


"That doesn’t count, Patty. Candy was the same age and that wasn’t all. After my adoption, I obeyed my mother when she ordered me to stop writing letters to Candy. And later, when I found Candy at Elisa and Neil’s state in Lakewood, I pretended not to know her and even when she was in troubles then, I didn’t do anything to help her. Finally, at St. Paul’s, you know that story, don’t you?"

"Annie! All what you talk about is in the past and I’m sure Candy does not ever think about that," retorted Patty. "You shouldn’t be blaming yourself because your mistakes. They are over now. Why don’t you just face the present and enjoy what Candy’s sacrifices allowed you to have?"

"I can’t, Patty!" Said Annie turning her face not able to sustain Patty’s dark look. "As long as Candy does not find her own happiness I will always feel guilty!"

Annie moved again towards the window until her hands were wiping the windowpane so that they both could see well the hill and the ancient tree on its top.

"Who tells you that Candy is not happy with her life, Annie?" Patty demanded. "She does not live in a big and nice house but that is her decision, she likes her independence more than money or luxury. She does what she wants, has the profession she chose and enjoys life more than you and I together."

"And a family?" Annie asked as if she were just talking to herself. "Where are the mother and the father she always dreamt of? And what about love? What about the young men she’s loved? One is dead and the other . . . Is she had accepted Archie instead of pushing him into my arms…"

"Stop that Annie!" Cried Patty deeply shocked at Annie’s trail of thoughts. "Don’t you see those things are not your fault? Blame destiny or God if you want to find a responsible, but do not set guilt over your shoulder that does not correspond to you. Candy was never interested in Archie, and you know it well. It is true that she played sort of a matchmaker between you both and ignored his flirting with her, but that was not a sacrifice for her because she already loved Terri then . . . Whatever happened between the two of them after that was not under your control. That separation was Candy and Terri’s decision and you can’t blame yourself for every unfortunate thing that happens to Candy."

"But why her?" Wondered Annie lifting her eyes searching for an answer in the blue sky outside. "Why do all the saddest things happen to her? She only deserves the best because of the great woman she is!"

"In that you’re right, Annie," said Patty nodding slightly with tears in her eyes. "But once I heard that God only allows us to undergo the trials we can bear, not more nor less. That is why she is in Europe helping the wounded whereas you and I are here, in this peaceful place. Neither you nor I would be of any help in France, but we can try to be useful right here."

"Candy!" Sighed Annie. "She is always doing the boldest things while I just stay aside to look passively how she enlightens everywhere she goes. She’s grown strong, protective, fearless and noble as our father tree," she added with her eyes glued to the nearby hill.

 


"You don’t know how much I pray every single day that she finds true love and gets to have her own family, just as she always dreamt. I will not feel at ease until that happens."

 


"Annie!" Patty gasped not knowing what to say for she also wanted the best for their mutual friend.

The two girls stood there looking through the narrow window towards the white hill, not saying a word. The Christmas tree had been forgotten behind the two of them . . . After all, Candy was not there to put the star on the top.

 


Candy entered the tent in an outraged rush. She flashed towards her suitcase, which was innocently resting on an empty folding bed. With angry moves she opened the baggage getting out a white uniform and her second and last pair of boots. With the same violence of gestures she undressed the green uniform she was wearing not even caring about the fact that her male patients were sleeping in the same tent and could awake at any time. However, it was only Julienne who woke up with the little noises of Candy’s enraged dressing and her upset talking to herself.

"What am I doing here?! What ARE you doing here, silly boy?" Candy asked herself loudly.

 


"A matter of honor, ha! What an idiocy!"

Julienne saw with amazed amber eyes how Candy’s fingers trembled nervously as she tried to button up her uniform and tie her bootlaces. With every move, her lips uttered an incomprehensible complaint addressed to an imaginary interlocutor, but when she was finally done with her outfit, her eyes froze on the masculine clothing that were lying on the bed. She sat abruptly on the bed and took the shirt with her hands, plunging her face on the material and staying in the same position, almost motionless for a while. When she finally uncovered her fair features her eyes were full of tears.

 


The group stayed in the American camp for over 48 hours. During all that time Candy concealed herself in the tent they had been assigned taking care of Flammy’s leg, and fighting desperately against her desires to see Terri again. But as she was sure that it was a lot safer for her honor and hurt heart to stay away form him, she resisted the temptation.

On his own, Terri tried by different means to see her again but after Julienne gave him back his uniform and boots, he believed that Candy was still mad at him and thus never dared to pay her a visit in the tent she shared with her patients. One of her opened displays of rejection had been painful enough for him. The third day after Candy’s unexpected arrival at the camp Captain Jackson ordered to set a truck to transport the medical team to Paris. The weather was a lot milder and it was not wise to lose more time. Jackson decided that, since the medical truck was totally ruined, it was necessary to provide a new one as well as a driver who could, at the same time, drive and escort the ladies in their way.

For Candy’s great dismay the man who had been assigned to take them to Paris was no other than Terri. Such a choice had not been casual. Terri himself had asked to be assigned and Jackson had not denied him the petition because he was particularly amused by the abrupt change in the young men’s attitude. "It is amazing what a woman can do to a man," he would say to himself. He was obviously too old to not have seen what was evident.

The morning of December 18th, the wounded were already settled in the back of the truck but there was still the question of who of the two nurses would go on the passenger’s seat. However, Julienne’s state did not give Candy any other choice. The blonde was not feeling well either. In fact, her cold had turned into the flu and she was beginning to experiment the effects of slightly abnormal temperature, but Julienne’s cough was not getting any better, and as the back of the truck had a small heater the doctor had advised her to travel at the back.

All that resulted in Candy and Terri traveling together and by themselves for the rest of the journey. The sole idea made them both shiver, but for different reasons.

At the beginning it was awfully uneasy to bare the tense silence between the two of them. But Candy knew that starting a conversation could lead to even more dangerous situations. The last thing that she wanted was Terri talking about his life. She did not want to hear how he had married Suzanna, or even worse, when they had had their first child. So, although she was deeply curious about the reason he could have had to enroll in the army, she closed her mouth and simply maintained her eyes fixed in the horizon.

On the contrary, Terri wanted to ask for every single detail, even those that he knew would hurt the most, and especially that issue that was itching in his soul and had not been answered yet. Unfortunately, after he had finally gathered the courage to break the silence he turned to see Candy and noticed that she had fallen asleep like an angel.

It was then when Terri could give himself the little luxury to stop the truck for a while and regale his eyes with the free sight of the woman that had haunted his nights and days since he had been a teenager. Her hair was slightly loose from the lace that held it in a ponytail and her thick dark eyelashes marked soft shadows over her cheeks. Terri thought of the deep green irises that those eyelids covered and concluded that the emerald of his ring was just a poor fake of Candy’s iridescent eyes. He had dreamt so long to see into those watery pools to quench the thirst of his heart, but now that she was so close to him he could not share the feelings that flooded his soul.

Candy’s head was resting on her black coat over the truck’s window, and her arms were crossed one over the other as if she were embracing herself. Terri leaned his torso slowly, not paying attention to the thousand bells that began to ring in his head, as a clear warning of his bold moves. He got close enough to see a delicate blue vein that crossed smoothly on her neck, close enough to inhale the roses fragrance that he knew well she always wore, close enough to rub her shoulder with his woolen coat. He even raised his hand to search for a touch, just a soft, light touch of her flushed cheeks. But a few inches before his fingers could reach the soft skin, his internal voice cried louder than his desire and he aborted the caress before it could receive that name.

"It is not honorable," he sentenced, and starting the engine again he continued the long way towards Paris. If he had dared to touch Candy’s cheeks he would have found out that the fever was beginning to rise in the young woman’s body.

It was not until a couple of hours later that Candy woke up feeling an unquenchable thirst along with a slight irritation in her eyes. The woods had been left behind and being replaced by a vast plain. Above their heads the sun was beginning to set in the white horizon. The atmosphere was so quiet and overwhelmingly beautiful that Candy forgot her anger and gained new forces to talk to the man by her side.

"When do you think we’ll arrive in Paris, Terri?" She asked softly ignoring the effects of her words.

The young man turned his head slowly to see her. Inside his stomach a butterfly army seemed to fly up and down. "She called me Terri!" chanted an internal voice with unexpected joy he barely controlled.

"We’ll be there this evening," he managed to say huskily. "Are you anxious to be back?" He asked casually.

"Actually, yes," she replied looking through the window as the snowed landscape began to reflect the sunlight. "I’m worried for Julienne, she needs rest and medicine for her cough, the sooner the better."

"Always worrying for the others, huh?" He said smiling for the first occasion in long time.

Candy lowered her eyes shyly, partly because of Terri’s words but also because she knew that Terri’s smiles were rare jewels he only offered to his dearest ones.

"I still remember how you were always taking care of those friends of yours," added Terri daring to talk about their common past. "The shy girl with large eyes and chubby one with glasses."

"Patty is not chubby," defended Candy, knowing that Terri was playing with her. This time the game turned to be pleasant for her as well. "She’s now a distinguished and charming young lady."

"And I guess Annie is very refined too," he said with mocking chuckles. ‘This if she ever dares to go out of her house without dying of fear."

"You would be surprised how she has grown up and matured, Mr. Self-confidence," she answered back lifting an eyebrow.

"Pheewwe!," he whistled faking surprise. "I supposed she has not lost her Dandy-boy, either. How is he, by the way?" He asked with a slight change of tone in his voice. Very deep, in the back of his mind, Terri still kept a feeling of mistrust towards Archie that had not faded with years and distance.

"He is studying law, now," she replied proudly. "He’ll graduate next year."

 


"I read about his brother’s death some years ago," Terri mentioned in a more serious tone. "I really felt sorry about that. He was quite a guy."

"Yes indeed," Candy answered with a saddened voice that Terri did not like. For that reason he hurried to bring up a merrier issue.

"I also read about Albert in the newspaper," he added softly. "It was a shocking piece of news to realize that the man I once had met was Mr. William A. Audrey."

"It was shocking for me, too," Candy replied with a giggle. "But I’ve got used to it by now. Hey!" She gasped in realization. "It seems that you’ve learnt a lot about our family by the papers."

"Well, not exactly," Terri mumbled suddenly saddened. "What I’ve told you is all that I know… In fact, that was some years ago, I don’t read the papers anymore."

"That’s funny! I don’t read the papers either," Candy said absentmindedly, a little disturbed by the certainty that she did have a good reason to avoid any kind of newspaper or magazine, always afraid to find out news about her famous interlocutor and the woman she thought was his wife by then.

 


"How are you?" Asked Terri in a whispered that caressed her ears with a warm breeze. "I mean, how have you been all this time Candy?" Terri asked again, almost pleading.

"I’ve been fine, Terri, really fine," she lied, and the conversation died for a while because she did not dare to ask back the same question.

The truck turned a curve and just after it they could see, in the distance, a large mass of water moving slowly in a huge current. It was the river Seine, a clear sign that they were getting really close to Paris.

The sunset was then at its most beautiful moment. The pink, yellow, purple, orange and peach lights of the evening colored the whitened land and Candy’s lovely face with multicolor accents. In the horizon, the blue sky, almost in fire because of the sun farewell, melted with the cerulean depths of the Seine.

The two passengers were trapped by the magic of the moment in a furtive rapture they could not fight. They both knew they had lived together similar moments in the past, and for a second they believed they were still sharing the same feelings they had before.

"Amazingly beautiful," Terri thought and by a strange magical effect his thoughts flied towards Candy’s ears within the winter air.

"Yes, it is really beautiful," Candy replied aloud with a smile.

Terri’s heart jumped within him when he realized that in a psychic experience she had reached his thoughts for a second without noticing it. That had happened to them before, or at least he believed it had happened one quiet evening in Scotland. He had almost forgotten the event, but now it was clearer than ever before.

"The constant gaze, the perfect smile, the precise word," Terri thought. "Why does everything have to be so perfect when I am with her? Does she feel the same? Does she feel the same…when she is with him?" Then again his mind played rude games with him taking Terri back to the same black hollow he wanted to avoid.

The sun finally disappeared in the horizon but the distant lights of Paris replaced it soon. Terri and Candy sighed internally when they saw the twinkling glitter of the city. They knew that their farewell was getting closer. Will this time be good-bye forever?

Terri’s heart was beating so fast that he was afraid that she would notice it. But with a cunning look at her, he could understand that she was too absorbed in her own thoughts to realize the hubbub within him. "Ask her, now!" An internal voice cried out inside him.

 


"Do it now or you will never know… and you need to know."

"Candy," he finally said with shaking voice. "I . . . I want to apologize for my being rude the other morning. I think I didn’t manage to mean what I really wanted," he began while Candy opened her eyes widely, completely astonished at Terri’s words. The last thing she expected was that his apology for his behavior. This was not quite typical in the arrogant Terri she knew.

"It’s all right, Terri," she replied. "I was not quite kind either."

"Candy, I wasn’t meaning that women are not capable enough to be useful in this war," he kept on with his heart trembling. "I was just . . . wondering . . . please do not take me wrong . . . I was wondering how your husband let you come to France, I mean if I were him I . . . "

"HUSBAND?!" Candy exclaimed in shock, not letting Terri finish his sentence. "Where did you get that idea Terri? I am not married!"

Terri stopped the truck abruptly, stepping on the brakes with all his forces.

 


"You are not married!" He said with renewed fury in his eyes. "Please Candy, do not play games with me about that. Do you think I am stupid enough to not realize the rings on your finger?" And saying that, Terri grabbed Candy’s hand pulling her close to him dangerously. "Could you please, Mrs. I don’t know who, tell me what this diamond ring and wedding band mean?" He burst, letting go all his frustration.

Candy suddenly realized that Terri had noticed the rings that Dr. Duvall had given to her before he died. Somehow the young man had mistakenly supposed they were her own engagement and wedding rings. But what she did not understand were the reasons he had to be so upset. She had seen that expression on his face before… When had that been?

"Terri, you’re wrong," she hurried to clear up. "These rings are not mine, they were given to me by a respectable man who died in my arms in the Front," she said taking the rings off her fingers. "Look at the inscription inside!"

Terri, still wary, took the band Candy was giving to him and looked at the engraved letters and numbers: ‘Marius et Lucille. Avril 14, 1893’

 


His head began to feel awfully dizzy when he took his eyes off the ring.

 


"How could this be?" He asked dumbfounded. "I was sure that you had been married for over a year, I read it!" He said, giving the ring back to its owner.

 


"You said you read it?" Candy asked astonished. "How come?"

"I . . . I . . ." Stuttered Terri. "I read on the papers that you were getting married. It was just a brief note saying that Miss Candice White Audrey had got engaged with a young millionaire and would surely get married soon. They didn’t mention his name though. Then when I saw you wearing the rings I supposed that you had actually got married."

"Well, that was a mistake, obviously, because I’ve never been engaged . . . " She interrupted herself abruptly. "Wait a minute, I think I understand where you got that idea," she said, snapping her fingers. Then she began a silly laugh, leaving Terri in a greater confusion.

"What’s so funny?" Asked Terri kind of annoyed.

"You see, Terri, you remember Neil?" She asked.

"Unfortunately," he replied, already upset by the mere mention of the man he believed to be one of the most obnoxious human beings he had ever known.

"Then you will find it funny too," she said still laughing. "Can you imagine, that the moron had the stupid idea of falling in love with me, of all people!" She burst in laughter.

Many emotions crossed over Terri’s face, but no one of them could be qualified as amusement. Imagining Neil going after Candy was not a funny view for him.

"That tells us that he was not as stupid as I once believed,’ he remarked without realizing the compliment that was implicit in his words. "But I don’t see it as funny as you seem to take it."

"It is true that I didn’t find it funny either when it all happened, especially when he and his sister tried to force me into an arranged marriage with him. Can you imagine that?" She said in a more serious tone.

"Do you mean that bloody bastard tried to lay his dirty hands on you?" He asked visibly angry.

Candy saw again that furious glint in Terri’s eyes and finally identified the moment she had first seen the same expression in his eyes. It had been at the Blue River Zoo, the day he asked her about Anthony.

"Well, they could never get it their way," she replied immediately to calm him down.

 


"Albert would never allow them to force me to do something I don’t want. But they managed to publish an article in the local papers about the so-called engagement. That is the note you should had seen," she concluded. "I have never been engaged or married to anyone, that I can swear, and there was no need for such a bad language in front of a lady, Mr. Grandchester," she ended up retorting.

Terri looked at her, still too astonished to apologize for his calling Neil a bloody bastard in his British vulgar language. In fact he couldn’t care less about a thousand Neils or a million bastards this world could carry. The truth is that the whole Earth could have collapsed right there and then and he had not noticed or felt it a bit. She was not tied to any man! She was free! After all those years, and she was still free! Terri didn’t know if he should cry or laugh at that moment.

"Terri!" Said Candy for the third time.

"Yes?" He finally replied.

"I said that we should keep going," she suggested, really confused at Terri’s moody behavior.

"What’s going on with him?" she wondered internally. "He had always been unpredictable, but this is too much. H is talkative and playful for a while, then he is upset, and later he doesn’t even notice that I’m here. I don’t know how long my heart can go on in these conditions."

Terri restarted the engine once more and they continued their way under the nocturnal Parisian sky. Once again the most profound silence invaded them, along with a deep sadness. The two of them knew well that the end of their journey together was about to take place. Once they reached the city Candy began to indicate Terri the way to the hospital and somehow the involvement on the task brought some easiness to the atmosphere. Candy was beginning to feel giddy as the fever claimed her body, but the responsibility she still had on her shoulders kept her awakened and alert. She was determined to take her patients and friends to a safe place, as soon as they were resting on warm and clean beds and with other doctors and nurses to look after them she could take the rest she needed.

 


"Take this street now," she said. "We’ll be there in no time."

They took a wide street and went past a quiet park, the same in which Candy and Yves had had their last conversation before Candy left for the Front. Finally, a couple of blocks after they spotted the large building they were heading to. Candy did not know whether feel happy for her odyssey had ended at last, or terribly hurt for the cruel separation she was going to face.

They parked the truck and while Terri got off to tell the passengers that they had finally arrived at their destination, Candy ran towards the hospital to get the help they needed to carry the wounded. After that moment everything happened so fast and in confusion. Terri felt almost useless among the army of male and female nurses that appeared out of nowhere taking the patients from the truck. Among the confusion he could see that Candy was leaning over the truck as if she were going to faint.

"Are you O.K. Candy," he asked with concern.

"I’m fine," she said in a whisper, not really knowing if she was going to have the strength to say the words she knew she had to say. "I. . . I really appreciate your help in all this matter, Terri . . . "

"You don’t have to," he said feeling that the tears were beginning to creep their ways to his eyes.

"I really, hope that this war . . . " She continued with weak voice. "Can end soon, and that you…you…can go back home…with …your wife, Suzanna, " she ended not able to hide her sadness.

"My wife, Suzanna?" he asked frowning. "Candy, I’ve never married Suzanna. She died a year ago!" He said plainly.

"She died!" Candy managed to say before her head began to twirl so violently until she fainted in Terri’s arms.

"CANDY! CANDY!" He called her name desperately as he lifted her body into his arms.

Terri ran with a fainted Candy in the direction of the hospital, but there was no need to cry for help for long because he was unexpectedly intercepted by a young doctor than rushed to encounter them in the hall.

"Candy!" The doctor shouted with a mixture of happiness and worry in his voice. "My God what has happened to you?" He wondered, not even looking at Terri. It only took him a second to grab the young woman away from Terri’s arms, who despite his reluctance had to let her go knowing that the stranger in front of him could help her in a way he couldn’t.

The man in white robe disappeared in the white labyrinth of the hospital taking Candy in his arms, while Terri remained in the hall not knowing what to do with his restless heart.

Terri waited in the lounge for about an hour, after that time a familiar face appeared in front of him. Terri recognized one of the nurses that traveled with Candy, the same that had given his clothes back to him. It was Julienne.

"She will be fine, sergeant," she began shyly. "She still has fever, but she is strong and will receive all the attention she needs. The time she spent under the snow was not good at all."

"I understand," said Terri huskily. "Do you . . . think, I can see her. . . I mean, see her before I leave?"

Julienne could not avoid feeling moved by the young man’s concerned look and gave him a smile of sympathy.

"Of course, sergeant," she replied. "I suppose that you have to join your battalion, as soon as possible."

"That’s right, Madam," he stated. "I’ll leave just right after I can see Miss Audrey."

"Then follow me," she said starting to move through the corridor.

They walked along the immense white passages for a while, the most complete silence seemed to reign all around, but from time to time a masculine moan from somewhere broke the night stillness. They finally arrived to a narrowed corridor that led to the nurses’ dormitory. Julienne stopped to point out to a door, indicating that Candy was in that room.

 


"She might be sleeping because of the medicine the doctor gave to her, but you can stay with her as long as you want," Julienne said kindly. "Now, if you excuse me I have to submit a report about our wounded men," she nodded and disappeared into the corridors.

Terri approached the door and found out that it was half opened. He could perceive a soft, manly voice coming from the room speaking in French. Terri pushed the door slowly to see clearly a scene that stabbed him on the back. The same young doctor that had taken care of Candy was by her bed holding the hand of the sleeping blonde.

"Mon amour," the man said with tender whisper. "Tu iras bien, je vais the soigner avec mon cœur, et puis tu vas sourire comme toujours. "




Terri wished not to have understood the words and not to have seen the pure love in the man’s eyes, who was none other but Yves. But his father had made him take French classes for long years and his heart recognized very well that itching feeling when a potential rival appeared, to not understand what was happening in front of him.

Terri knocked at the door to make Yves know about his presence. Both men’s eyes encountered and within a second they read the clear message written in the other’s sight.

"Excuse me, sir, " said Terri with his coldest look. "I’d like to know how Miss Audrey doing. "

Yves felt his skin shiver as Terri’s deep voice sunk in his ears. Suddenly, the arrogant man in front of him seemed to be the most unpleasant creature on Earth, someone he had to keep away from Candy, come hell or high water.

"She will be fine," he said, standing up from the chair he had been sitting on. "She is under the care of professional hands, sir," he finished blocking the entrance for Terri.

"I see," murmured Terri looking at Yves with frank scorn. "I really hope, you guys do your job well around here, because that lady over there deserves the best, especially after all the things she had gone through, lately."

"Be sure about that," replied Yves closing the door.

Terri felt an irresistable desire to push the man that was denying him the right to be by Candy’s side at least for a few minutes before his departure. But then his internal voice made him realize that even when he once had owned rights over Candy, it was quite probable that the man in front of him could be the present owner of such privileges.

"I am not got engaged to anyone," Candy had said during their trip, but she had never mentioned the words ‘date’, ‘go out’ or even ‘love’. Why would a man address a girl the way this doctor had done unless he had thought that he was alone with the sleeping beauty in the small room?

Could this man in front of him mean something for Candy ? That question hammered Terri’s head with such merciless hits that he did not articulate anyother word and just turned back toking his dark way towards the building’s exit.

When he was still walking through the endless corridor Julienne ran back to reach him.

"Sir," she called him. "How did you find her?" She asked innocently

"Very well cared, I think, madam," he said sadly.

"I see," she murmured understanding that Yves had been with Candy when the sergeant had entered the room.

"Would you do me a favor, madam?" He asked, his voice melancholly.

"Yes sure."

"When she wakes up tell her . . ." He began but then stopped hesitating.

"On second thoughts . . . do not tell her anything," he ended nodding and walking away into the cold night.

 

[domniki]

CHAPTER SEVEN


More faithful than I intended to be

 

"Weather ‘tis nobler in the mind to suffer the slings and arrows or outrageous fortune, or to take arms against a sea of troubles,


and by opposing end them? To die, to sleep. No more; and by a sleep to say we end the heartache and the thousand natural shocks


that flesh in heir to, ‘tis a consummation devoutly to be wish’d. To die, to sleep. To sleep! Perchance to dream: ay, ther’s the rub.


For in that sleep of death what dreams may come when we have shuffled off this mortal coil, must give us pause:


there’s the respect that makes calamity of so long life . . .."

​

William Shakespeare in Hamlet.

 




​

A dark figure came out of the Hospital covered by the evening shadows. Even in the murky mist and from the distance it was clear for the casual observer that it was a man walking decisively with pressed and nervous gait. Had the observer being a little bit more precise, it could have been seen that the man was tall and moved with arrogant pace charged with a clear air or annoyance in every stride. A very perceptive observer could have even noticed that the man’s face was seized by a profound sorrow and the exceptionally sagacious witness could have even seen a glitter or fury in the depth of his eyes.

 


The man, who was no other but Terri himself, moved energetically towards the truck parked a few meters away and in a single impulse of his body opened the truck’s cab, jumped on the driver’s seat and started the engine, driving away as fast as he could, as if the freezing wind blowing over his face could efface the turbulence in his soul.

The truck devoured the streets at a high speed whilst the driver inside it mumbled an amazingly rich list of profane oaths and insults directed to the whole French race, which in that moment seemed to be the most contemptible of all. The face of the man he had just met appeared in his mind scratching his British pride to the core. In that very minute he felt absolutely sure that the historical rivalry between France and Britain was the most logical thing over the Earth, since no one could ever be friends with the obnoxious neighbors, who dared to look at the Anglo-Saxon women with such deep devotion.

"A French man!" he repeated to himself, "Of all people! Couldn’t she have found any other man in America?"

 


Notwithstanding his enraged moves the traces of pain and wrath gained terrain in his heart as the truck ran over the city and finally made him stopped on Quai de Célestins just in front of Marie Bridge, ( Quai de Célestins is a section of the boulevard over the river Seine, the well-know church of Notre Dame can be spotted easily from that point).

The young man bent his body over the steering wheel showing clear signals of great exhaustion. He buried his face on his arms and remained there in absolute silence for a while. When he raised his forehead again, the trace of thick tears could be distinguished over the tanned cheeks.

 


He leaned on the back of the seat and sighing in frustration ended up opening the door to face the gelid breeze that swept the ancient River. He got off and moved towards the bridge, sitting with tired air, staring at the black horizon over Notre Dame. His thoughts went up and down in his mind, clenching their claws over old injuries that had never healed.

 


How do I continue living this pitiful existence? Why can’t my heart stop its beats when it has to bare such bitterness? It’s been an immense dark night…ever since that night. How miserable a single decision can make a man! Two lifetimes I could live would not be enough to atone my guilt.

 


Even when I have reviewed over and over the sequence of the events and my own thoughts that night I still can not understand the things that happened. Why did I lose courage? Why did I stand up there, totally paralyzed while my happiness ran away forever? Why did I damn myself for the rest of my life?

 


After that moment, it was just hell. I stayed with Susanna for a brief time, I don’t really know how long exactly, so dimmed my mind was. I remember that when I finally arrived home it was past midnight. I did not turn on the lights for no matter how many flames could be lightened around me I was sure my heart would remain in darkness. I sat down on the chair she had been, imagining she was still there with me . . .If everything had gone the way I had planned it months before, she would have been there by my side . . . But it seems that those things can never happen to a man like me. I’m doomed since the day of my conception to be a lonely soul.

 


I recall how the warmth of my own tears claimed my cheeks then, invading me with its salty taste. I cried, I sobbed, I hit and kicked the furniture. I even tried to burn her letters, but once I had thrown the first one to the fire, I rushed to rescue it from the hungry flames. I had given up her love, but I was not going to renounce to her memory. At least that was still mine.

 


That determination of my heart, totally opposed to the most reasonable measures my mind dictated, surely made things more difficult with Susanna the days that followed. Every time I was with her, I could only think of the one I loved . . . the one I love and always will.

 


Everything in Susanna seemed dull and plain in front of the dazzling memories I cherished. Susanna’s smiles were shy, hers were always bright and frank; Susanna’s conversation was soft and calm, hers was lively, sparkling; Susanna’s beauty was sweet as a quiet morning, but it did not make me shake in either love . . . or passion; hers . . . hers is intoxicating. I still keep having those bold dreams in which I make her my own, only to wake up in a major frustration.

 


It was during a night after having one of those dreams that always end up in nightmares that I began drinking. In the beginning, the alcohol eased the pain for ephemeral moments; later, it just increased my misery. Unfortunately, by that time I just could not stop.

 


It was then that I left New York. When I went to see Susanna before my departure I wanted to tell her that I could not keep my promise of marriage, but the instant I got to be in front of her I was not able to confess what my heart concealed again. I lied to her and myself once more; I only told her I would go on a long trip and she did not even ask me how long I would be away. She gave me an adoringly woeful look but smiled stoically despite the pain that was clear in her eyes. Her words were enough to increase my guilt in a way I couldn’t erase: "I’ll wait for you", she had said without realizing how that single statement would hurt my conscience along the days of my downfall.

 


How long I wondered! How low I fell! Whenever I remember those days, I spent letting myself go into my darkest shadows, I feel dreadfully ashamed. I see my personal hell in which I was victim and victimizer and feel disgusted. I sunk in and sunk deeply until I reached the very bottom of my own abyss.

 


What had it happened with my dreams? My art? The impelling energy that made me leave England full of hopes and plans? What of the warm sweetness my soul and mind experimented when reciting Shakespeare’s wonderful lines? Were his verses less sublime then? Had they lost its brilliance? Everything seemed aimless, fruitless, dreary . . . To excel on stage? What for? To keep virtue? There was no use . . .

 


I reached an extreme in which I did not recognize myself, working in an indecent theatre, mingling with fifth class performers; reciting my part without really sensing it. How could you fake others’ feelings when my own ones cried so loudly within me in pure pain? The sorrow of the separation from the one my soul longed for was too strong to leave space for any other kind of feeling, faked of real.

 


I worked with that pitiful troop for some months, drinking more and more everyday until I would only perform in a state of perennial drunkenness. I must have made quiet a sad view . . . After all I was only 18 back then.

 


It was then when I had the vision. We had arrived in Chicago a few days before, inside of me my guts trembled to think that I was in the same city she lived. When I first stepped on the station I couldn’t help remembering that day we desperately tried to see each other without success. If I had succeeded in seeing her the night before, I might have more than the memory of a couple of kisses . . . but it is fine this way because I don’t even deserve the memories I actually have. How could I live if I had been graced with more? If damned souls in hell had ever seen the glory of heaven, their torment would be even worse when descending to the eternal fire.

 


Feeling so close and so far away from her made me more miserable. I had the temptation to see her, talk to her . . . But how could I do such a thing? I wouldn’t bear the pain of her looking at me like that . . .so vile and shameful. If she kept any memories of me, I wanted them to stay clean, dignified.

 


These considerations kept my spirit so down that I drank even more during those days. I wanted to sleep, to sleep eternally…and never wake up . . .But there was always the possibility of having dreams. And I had mine.

 


I was on stage, I’ll never forget how it was, my lines had been lost in the oblivion, my voice faltered, the actress with me babbled senselessly and I could not understand her words due to my intoxication as the crowd’s booed at my shameful performance. Then, out of the mocking throng around I saw her face!

 


For a second I could not even move, think of breath. She was there, my golden angel with freckles! My heart stopped at the brightness of her beauty among the darkened place! What kind of material are you made of that your single presence lightens up my heavily loaded heart in a second? What chord of my soul do you play so skillfully that I can reach my height this way?

 


As a work of magic the alcohol surrendered in front of my will and it was I again saying my lines the way they deserved to be said. I came back to my own self and the feeling of it was absolutely pleasant! The crowd might have felt it because it stopped its roar and listened to my words not paying attention to the poor stage, the old fat woman that was supposed to be my partner or the unsuitable customs we were wearing.

 


As I ended my part the rough public applauded and I bowed to thank for their praise. When I lifted my eyes I searched for her in the multitude but the vision had disappeared. However, the effect of her presence did not. Realization sunk in me as I could see the lowness of my downfall under the light she had brought to me.

 


What was I doing with myself? Why was she giving me such an intense gaze? Was it disapproval or sadness? Either one, coming from her, I could not stand. I felt I was making her suffer with my behavior, for once she had loved me, that I knew it, and she would certainly be saddened by my condition or perhaps she felt ashamed of me, and that was even worse!

 


I looked at myself in an internal mirror and was horrified by my own reflect, for I had ended up being even worse than my father to whom I despised deeply. "Love’s no love when it is mingled with regards that stand aloof from the entire point." I knew that line so well since the beginning of my career, but the knowledge of Shakespeare’s words had not been of any help in my decision making. My father had betrayed that principle when he married a woman he did not love, doing so he built the misery of my childhood and doomed my mother into an eternal loneliness, for she had never married or loved again. I had condemned my father in the past because all that, but at the end I had just repeated his same mistakes.

 


Had I done better letting the woman in my life go and causing her pain? Or was it noble to make Susanna suffer because of my absence and silence? I was just a miserable weakhearted man who could not make up his mind, trapped in a dilemma between the woman I loved, and the one I owed my life to. What my morals dictated to do, my heart resisted and in this battle my soul was consumed, none of the part winning or losing. However, back in New York, that night, I had made a decision, I had chosen my duty over love! Thus, I proved no better than the man I hated so deeply! I had followed the same choices.

 


I had dreamt of making Candy happy and only brought her pain, as if she had not had enough before meeting me. Maybe Archibald was right after all and he should have killed me with his fists back in the Academy. I had been such an idiot and the worst thing was that I could not go back. Six months had passed then, since our break-up, but they seemed to me as six centuries. It was too long time. I told myself that it was just too late. During those months, I had worked very hard and successfully on making a real fool out of myself . . . I was not the man she deserved, not anymore.

 


Back in that empty ambulant theatre I sat down feeling utterly unworthy. In that moment my heavy load of regrets made me decide again for duty and not for love. If I could not deserve Candy’s love, then at least I was going to dedicate my life to make Susanna happy… That way I would do something honorable with my senseless existence. Senseless because I had a heart full of love and passion for someone I would not ever reach.

 


I decided to start all over again, leave the past aside, cigarette and alcohol would never touch my lips again, at least I could give myself some dignity. Thus, I went back to New York, begged Mr. Hathaway to give me a new chance in his company, and asked Susanna for her forgiveness. I got both things quite easily.

 


Notwithstanding my efforts, the love engraved on my heart did not disappear with the beginning of my new life. Ironically, what I felt and still feel for Candy only matured into a deeper love, almost an obsession that I cannot fight. I’ve decided that I had to learn to live with such a feeling as I had done with my alcoholism, by accepting it and constraining my inner drives. Therefore I only disguised my love for Candy and began to play the greatest role I have ever performed.

 


As if my absence on the stage had been a well planned commercial strategy to promote my popularity things began to work outstandingly well. The theatre was always packed every night I performed, new contracts to work all over the country rained all the time and Mr. Hathaway was more than pleased with the excellent profits we were obtaining. We dared to experiment with different sorts of plays and tried a few ones by Oscar Wilde and George Bernard Shaw. It was a total success.

 


The excitement of every new role consumed most of my time and energies and I divided what I had left between Susanna and the a new project I began those days: the building of the house where Susanna and I would live when we got married the following year, as we had decided.

 


Playing again the game of a double life, a social façade on the one side, the image of the public Grandchester, and the real self I hid from everyone on the other side, I invested money and efforts in creating a place that would be the secret shelter of my disguised true feelings . . . a place I filled with traces of her brief passage through my life, knowing well that those constant reminders of my frustrated love were not going to be of any help to heal my broken heart. But something in me refused to forget her and needed to be fed by her memory to ease the pain of the immense loss. It was during those days when I began writing.

 


At the beginning it was just a sort of release but with the time it became a habit I enjoyed and the idea of writing a play inspired in the woman I loved assaulted my mind unexpectedly. I began the project working on it during the long nights of insomnia that plagued my life but it soon demanded all of my might. During those lonely evenings I usually divided my writing time between the dialogues and endless letters full of longing and earnest love addressed to the woman, whom, I knew, would never read them.

In this sort of charade my life continued for almost a year. I had not attained happiness, that I knew was out of my reach, but I could at least find a sort of equilibrium to cope with my existence for the rest of my life. My relationship with Susanna was steady and the plans for our wedding were already on the move. Of course, I tried my best to share time with her for I was sure it was my duty to make things up for her, after all she had done for me. But every time I was alone with her, my mind never ceased to taunt me because of the uncontrollable rejection my heart felt.

 


The physical issue was the worst part of it. Even a simple touch of our hands seemed to burn my skin in disgust. Therefore, I avoided increasing the intimacy beyond what was socially accepted and it was pretty convenient for me that our society was euphemistic enough to condemn almost any kind of physical closeness between an engaged couple. The time a chaste kiss on the forehead was practically an obligated protocol I could sense how Susanna shivered under my touch and I felt even guiltier because of my inability to requite her love. In the back of my mind I dreaded the day I would have to face my husband’s duties.

 


Nevertheless, that day would never arrive. By the end of 1915 during the cold days of December, Susanna’s health began to decline. A sudden and unexplainable faint began the sad story of her farewell to life. She became weaker and lost interest in almost everything, always surrounded by doctors who could not explain the cause of her amazingly fast physical deterioration. It took almost three month for the physicians to understand the nature of her illness but such finding was not an encouraging piece of news. Susanna had leukemia, thus she was condemned to die sooner or later, and the medical science could not do anything to avoid it. We only had to wait for the fatal day.

Her mother decided that only herself, and I would share the fatidic secret of her imminent death so we both got involved in taking care of Susanna during her long stays in the hospital whenever her body needed another transfusion to cope with her increasing loss of blood cells. As time went by the poor girl suffered the continuous assault of a large list of infections due to her impaired blood. The poor Ms. Marlow was so miserable that I had not other option but understanding her sorrow. I think I forgot her during those days, just by looking at her immense pain.

 


My life was then divided between the stage and the hospital, long days and long nights of a pathetic existence. It was during that time, when Susanna’s health problems were beginning to take a space in the press, that I received the news which stabbed me with merciless cruelty.

 


It had been a cold day and in the sky, the gray clouds above were a clear signal of the impending storm. I arrived home very late in the evening after a long journey at the hospital, followed by a weary general rehearsal just the night before of a premiere. The following day I would perform Hamlet for the first time and the expectation was great among the critics and the public as well. People said that the role would establish my reputation as one of the most important theatrical actors in the country.

 


I was already living in the house I had planned and had hired a few people to take care of it. So when I arrived that night, Edward, the butler, was waiting for me with a light dinner and the mail of the day. I casually had a look at the small pile of letters and bills on the desk of my studio and a large yellow envelope without the sender’s address on it and no postal seal caught my attention. I opened it to find a note written with typewriter that said with laconic words:

 


Dear Mr. Grandchester,

I believe my duty to inform you about the event that would soon take place in Chicago. As you will be able to see with your own eyes, there is no use to live in the past.

Yours,


An old friend.

 


Totally clueless but immediately worried by the mention of Chicago, I plunged my hand into the envelope to find another piece of paper. This was something that made my eyes swell with joy and pain at the same time. It was a newspaper note with a photo that caught my attention at first sight. It was her, smartly dressed and getting out of a carriage. A man whose face was not visible in the photo was offering her a hand to help her out.

 


I just stared at the photo for a while without looking at the heading. My eyes devoured with eagerness every line of the face in the photo. She was simply stunningly beautiful and I wondered how she could perform the amazing marvel of joining beauty with the noble spirit I love in her . . . " Could beauty, have better commerce than with honesty?" . . . Then my eyes bumped into the message in the heading, crashing my soul against the cruel words and killing what was left in my poor heart.

 


"Miss Candice W. Audrey, one of the most important heiress in our country will soon formally announce her engagement with a distinguished millionaire from Chicago."

 


My beats paralyzed for a moment that seemed endless. The words I had read pierced my soul with slow and tormenting thrust before I could really comprehend the implications of their meaning. When the lunge finally reached the bottom of my heart I lost my mind and attacked every object that my hands found in their way.

 


As a mad man I pushed and kicked anything that stood on my way towards the bedroom. The noise of the falling pieces of furniture and braking crystals along with my yelling, must have dreadfully scared my servants because the four of them came to the leaving room to find their insane boss shouting incomprehensible words of betrayal and abandonment. Edward and the gardener tried to stop me while the cleaning lady and the cook looked at me with horrified eyes.

 


When they finally managed to make me quit my destructive rage, I stood there paralyzed by the two men, not able to understand their words. I remembered that after a while I began to feel an urgent need to fill my body with alcohol and I would had followed my demons if the vision I had back in Chicago had not appeared in my head. Realizing the great danger I was facing I asked my butler to lock me in my chamber and not open the room till the following day by the time I would have to leave home in order to go to the theatre.

 


The butler and the gardener, amazed by my petition and also afraid that in my mad state I could hurt myself, hesitated for a while, but as I insisted they finally obeyed my petition and let me alone in my room.

 


There I continued with my enraged attack until my arms were tired of tearing down the objects around and my tears found their way out of my eyes. I fell on the floor as a thousand arguments and counterarguments were spinning in my head.

 


On the one hand, I felt betrayed and offended as a long chain of reproaches came to my mind: How could she have forgotten me so soon? Have I meant so little that she had found a replacement so easily? Did she love this man? Did she love him as much as she once had loved me … or perhaps even more? Could it be possible that I had just become a bad memory of her past? Would she think of me whenever she was in that man’s arms? How had she dared to do this to me!

 


On the other hand the same reproaches, with a boomerang effect, hit me back with equal force as I realized that the only one to blame was no other than myself: Was I expecting that she would become a spinster just because she had broken with me? Wasn’t she beautiful? Wasn’t she worthy? What right did I have to blame her for finding a new love when I myself was planning my wedding with another woman? Had I not been the one who had lost heart to fight for the love we once shared? How could I blame her for being happy? Hadn’t that been my desire?

 


Never before had jealousy been so poisonous and tormenting and from then on my nightmares would be plagued by the dreadful visions of the woman I loved in someone else’s arms. If I deserved a punishment for my mistakes that was a very suitable one for nothing could have been more painful. A part of me died that night.

 


The following evening a desperate pounding at my door made me open it after almost 20 hours of complete isolation. When I saw the face of the one knocking at my room with such insistence I recognized my mother’s worried features. The servants, still stunned by my incomprehensible behavior the previous night, had called her. She might have expected a different thing because when she saw that I was already dressed up with a tuxedo her face reflected surprise. Her alarm increased when she saw the terrible mess that I had in the room and even when she knew I do not like being questioned, she dared to ask me what had happened. I looked at her with cold eye and only said that I did not want to talk about it, what really mattered was that the show had to go on.

 


And effectively, the show went on and on successfully. Hamlet’s words had never been so suitable as they were that night, because more than ever before, I desired to cut off my life by my own hand. But knew well I had to choose life to accomplish my mission, just as the Prince of Denmark solved his dilemma between life and death. "Never before pain had been better depicted" said the critics the following day referring to my performance, they did not know that my work had no merit since I had only let my own feelings reveal their bitterness as I said my lines.

 


I had promised I would take care of Susanna until the end and that I did despite the internal sorrows I kept inside. As the time went by her stays at the hospital became longer and more difficult, she fell into deep depression periods, and only my presence could diminish her suffering. Her agony was slow and painful, she lost weight and her beauty faded as those da Vinci’s paintings that time did not spare. Witnessing the end of a life that could have been happy and productive was an excruciating process that made me even more miserable and dark.

 


The memory of the night she died will always hunt me with piercing grief. I had been with her for the whole afternoon because it was Thanksgiving Day and I had not worked. She had been sick for almost a year by then and the doctors had told her mother and I that the end was close. Unlike the previous days she had been exceptionally cheerful and had even dared to adventure some new plans for our wedding, a ceremony that had been postponed so many times because of her health and that, I knew by then, would never take place.

 


Susanna kept holding my hand in silence for hours. Her pale face marked by dark circles around her eyes, once beautiful and lightened had a calm expression, which I could notice, even among the evening shadows. Then, all of a sudden, she opened her eyes that were filled with fear. She looked at me and with weak voice tried to tell me something, I had difficulty at understanding. I approached my ear to her lips and in soft whispers heard her last words.

 


"Before I leave," she told me, "I want to receive your forgiveness."

 


I looked at her with puzzled eyes because in that moment I did not understand why she would have to ask me such a thing. She surely read my confusion and hurried to explain.

 


"I caused you pain," she said with tears in her eyes, "I need your forgiveness before I face the one that would judge my deeds."

 


She turned her head and pointed to the night table beside her bed.

 


"There’s a letter for you in there," she added and I could see a mortal shadow crossing her blue irises, " Read it when I had gone, but now tell me that you forgive me. That I need."

 


"There is nothing to forgive," I said lowering my eyes.

 


"There is," she insisted, "and you know it well."

 


Her eyes were so determined and honest that I understood she was right.

 


"I forgive you," I finally said and just right after I had uttered the words she closed her eyes and expired, leaving behind just a fragile mutilated body without life that her mother and I buried among the most profound of the sorrows.

 


Two days after her funerals I read her letter and discovered the personal hell that she lived in during months. I read the letter only once, but the words glued to my mind and still remain there.

 


"My beloved Terri,

 


How do I express in words the deep gratitude for your endless kindness? How do I put on ink the great shame and guilt my soul dwells in because of the pain I had caused to you? For I know well, I have only brought you sadness. And that knowledge condemns me with even greater force.

 


Now that my death is close and I see the day of my judgment coming so soon I need to confess my sins before the one I offended. My faults are heavy because I committed them knowing I was doing wrong but did not have the courage to stop and correct my destiny.

 


I knew you did not love me when you first decided to marry me and I also knew well I was hurting a third person as I hurt you. But I kept on holding you, my love stopped being love and became a selfish obsession that does not allow me to free you from a promise you should have never made.

 


When you came back to me after your long absence, I lied to myself trying to convince me that you had finally learnt to love me. In that lie I lived for sometime until one wrong movement revealed me the truth I refused to see.

 


One evening you were working I decided to drop by the house you had just bought for us and have a look at it for the first time. Helped by your butler I checked every room in the house until I reached one that was locked. Then, Edward told me it was your studio and that you had given strict orders to keep it locked in your absence. Despite your disposition I insisted to see the place and finally got my way with your kind servant, who ended up by leaving me inside the room so that I could check it up on my own. Had I not done so I would not be writing this letter.

 


Feeling an immense pleasure at being in your most intimate place I looked at your desk and discovered a pile of papers that I should have never read. They brought me back to reality in the cruelest way that was possible. The pages were written with a passionate style I never imagined you could have, every word filled with earnest affection towards someone that was not me. Through those pages, I understood many things, I interpreted the thousand details that filled your house with her memory and comprehend that your love for her would never die. In the story of rivalry I share with her I had ended up by being the true looser, because I might have you by my side but she took your heart away to a place I cannot reach no matter how hard I try. That knowledge has been my hardest punishment because jealousy has tormented me with slow and acrimonious pain ever since.

 


That evening I should have decided to release you from the promises you had made. But my coward heart refused and the knowledge I had acquired in my indiscrete intromission in your place served only to increase my guilt. I knew, I knew what I should do but I refused to do it. That is the sin I confess. That is the sin that does not let my soul find peace.

 


This is the sorrow I carry, that I could have done something noble for you and did not move a finger. Even now when I write these lines I do not dare to let you go knowing that my selfishness is not love but I just cannot, would not, by any means find the strength she showed when she turned her back that cold night. She has proved to be a better woman. No wonder why you still love her so.

 


Please, I beg you, forgive me for my lack of love and excess of egoism, forgive me and forget the pain I caused.

 


If you are reading these lines, it is because I have already passed away. Please, Terri, make my mistakes less damaging by going back to the woman you truly love now that the Lord has freed you for the burden I have been for you. Please, be happy with her and forgive this woman that did not know how to love you selflessly.

 


Yours,


Susanna.

 


When I finished reading the lines my heart was full of the saddest sensation of uselessness. After all, I had failed to make her happy and she had died in pain. It suddenly seemed that my sacrifice had been in vain and now that she was gone, my life had lost direction and purpose. I laughed sardonically at her last wish for my happiness by Candy’s side, chimerical, impossible dream of a life with the woman I loved, a woman that back then I believed married and banned for ever.

 


Two dreams I had had in my 20 years of life and the two of them had ended up by being impossible. After proving undeserving and incapable to make Candy happy I had been unable to love the woman that had saved my life. This new revelation of my failure would have surely made me sink in another of my depressions if the very same day I had not received a visit that forced me to face a new trial.

 


I was still in the studio when Edward opened the door with fearful gesture. He had worked for me for over a year and in that time he had learnt the hard way, to endure my sudden infuriating explosions. The poor man was still dreadfully afraid since my last rage a couple of months before and since I had told him I did not want to be disturb by anyone, no matter who could that be, I supposed it was really difficult for him to make up his mind and interrupt me in that moment.

 


"Excuse me, sir," he whispered, "I know that you warned me I should not disturb you, but I’m afraid that someone you really would like to see is waiting for you outside."

 


"I think you should take some English lessons since you don’t seem to understand the language quite well Edward," I said mockingly as I began to get mad at his interruption.

"There’s a gentleman outside sir," he insisted, " He says that he is here on behalf of your father, who is sick."

 


My first impulse was to yell out "I have no father" sending my father’s messenger and my butler to hell but then, an inner voice stopped me with two arguments. I stood motionless for a moment struggling with myself.

 


If my father, despite all his pride, was now sending me a messenger after four years of silence between the two of us, shouldn’t I listen to whatever he had to tell me, at least? Wasn’t he my father after all? That was the first set of questions that prevented me from another display of arrogance.

 


The second argument was based on my own guilt. Was I able to judge this man, who was my father, when I knew I had not proved any better? Therefore, after yielding to my own considerations I told Edward to let the visitor come into my studio. A few seconds later a tall middle aged man elegantly dressed entered the room. I recognized his characteristic fair short mane and the gold spectacles that had always been part of his outfit. It was Marvin Stewart, my father’s lawyer.

 


"It is a pleasure to see you again, my Lord," he said ceremoniously.

 


"I’m not anybody’s Lord, as far as I know, Mr. Stewart," I replied with a smirk, "But anyway is nice to see you again. My name is Terrence, and I like to be addressed that way."

 


"I’m sorry for not being able to please you, but I could not address to you in other way, my Lord," he insisted.

 


"Well, let’s not beat around the bushes," I suggested shrinking my shoulders, "I suppose that you are not here just by chance, please have a seat."

 


The man sat down on a nearby chair and with solemn look began his explanation. He told me straightforwardly that my father was seriously ill, in fact, the doctors did not give him more than a couple of month, perhaps less. Apparently, his kidneys were not working well and there was no way back. When he had learnt about his eminent death, he had wanted to see me for the last time and, despite his wife’s complaints; he had ordered Stewart to come to America in order to let me know about the situation. My father hoped that I could travel to England with Stewart.

 


"I’m really sorry to bring this unfortunate news to you, especially now that you are in mourning for your fiancée," he ended with his same punctilious tone.

 


If Marvin Stewart had come to visit me two years before when I believed that I was a better man than I am, I might have sent him back to the U.K. without a word of sympathy towards Richard Grandchester. But my own mistakes have made me a little less haughty thus I accepted my father’s invitation, notwithstanding the dangerous journey to Europe in those days of war, when the German navy threatened the free transit in the area.

 


That trip to London, precisely in those winter days was the last thing I wanted to do, I knew that the season was not going to be of any help when coping with the memories that would surely assault me since the very beginning of the journey. The luxurious ship, the farewells on the docks, the arrival to Southampton, the street I have strolled along with her, the old building with their severe look, all that feeling of déjà vu, made the reencounter with my past even more difficult and torturing.

 


Fortunately, my stepmother and her children had decided to leave London for the time I was supposed to be there. I thanked God that had granted the Duchesse with a little bit of common sense to avoid the embarrassing meeting. Stewart said that she was so upset with my father’s decision of sending someone to look for me that, once she had realized she could not persuade her husband, had finally told herself that she was not to abase herself by being under the same roof with me.

 


When I arrived at my father’s manor house my heart was even more restless than I had ever imagined it could be. I have tried so hard to convince myself that I did not care a damn about Richard Grandchester, that it was hard to realize I could still have other feelings different from hatred towards him. When I finally saw him lying on his bed, stunningly thin and pale, his vigor and haughtiness lost, the shine of his eyes faded away, I could not avoid feeling a sudden sadness. The man my mother had once loved was dying.

 


"Lord Grandchester," said Stewart when we came into his room which still kept that renaissance style with the same spotless disposition, "Your son Terrence, is here."

My father opened his eyes and tried to sit up, but since he lacked of strength, the servant by his side had to help him out. He narrowed his eyes to spot me in the dimness of his room and as he realized the light was not enough he ordered a second servant to open the curtains. When the afternoon light penetrated the chamber, I discovered that my father had grown older at an amazing pace in the previous years. Being only in his late forties, he looked as though he was over sixty.

 


He finally looked at me and I could see how his face was transfigured taking an expression I did not know he could ever have.

 


"Leave me alone with my son," he asked and I found out that his voice still had traces of his characteristic lordly disdain.

 


When everyone, including Stewart had let us alone, he again focused on me. I did not move, not really knowing what to say or do.

 


"It’s being a long time, Terrence," he started.

 


"Yes, indeed, sir," I said dryly.

 


"You’ve grown up," he continued with low voice. "You must be twenty by now."

 


"I thought that you wouldn’t remember, sir," I replied.

 


"I remember more things that you can imagine, son," he added with a sudden light in his eyes. " And I also hear things. I know that you’ve been successful in your show business," he said with a little mockery in his last words that began to ignite my old resentments.

 


"I’m not as rich as you are, sir, but I live well and independently. What I have is the fruit of my own work," I replied proudly leaving a hint of reproach in my voice that he understood clearly and that I regretted when his eyes were swept by sadness.

 


"I understand that I have not being quite a father for you Terrence," he said striking me with his sudden honesty.

 


"Well, I don’t think that I can judge that," I mumbled lowering the eyes.

 


"You’ve changed somehow," he said looking at me, surprised by my reaction, " but you still look so much like your mother." He paused for a while, hesitating. "How…how is she?" he finally dared to ask.

 


Now it was my turn to be surprised. The last person I thought he would ask for was my mother. I was sure that he hated her.

 


"She is fine, thanks," I answered as soon as I recover my collectedness. "She is on a tour She must be in San Francisco, right now."

 


Then a thick heavy silence reigned for a while. None of us knowing what should follow. It was my father again who broke the silence.

 


"I learnt that you were engaged," he said casually, his voice even weaker.

 


"Yes, that’s right, sir," I responded, "but she died a few weeks ago."

 


My father arched his left eyebrow in a sign of surprise.

 


"I’m sorry to hear that," he said bowing his head.

 


"It’s fine, sir. I’ll get over," I replied coolly.

 


My cold response shocked my father a bit, but as he was used to be a man who knew how to keep control over his own emotions, he somehow understood, or believed to have understood my apparent insensibility.

 


"Sit down, Terrence," he invited me pointing to a large wooden charge with the family’s coat of arms engraved on the back. "My energy is fading and there are some things I must tell you," he ended sighing.

 


I pulled the chair next to his bed and faced the man buried among the dark blue silken covers.

 


"Son," he began, "I made you come all this way to England…because," he paused and I could see that he was having a hard time putting his thoughts into words, "because I’m aware our relationship was never what it should have been, and . . . and I feel responsible for that." He admitted lowering his eyes. I was astonished at his words because I had never imagined I would live to hear my father talking like that.

 


"I made a mistake, Terrence," he continued with a sigh, "a mistake I have regretted all my life. I betrayed my true feelings towards your mother to obey my father’s desires and keep the family’s honor. I hurt the only woman I ever loved and then I added another mistake even worse than the former taking you away from your mother. I should have never done that."

 


At this point, a thick single tear ran over my father’s cheek as a clear proof of his true feelings, finally released after years of useless denial.

 


"I . . . I made you miserable by bringing you here," stuttered my father. "You were a daily reminder of Eleanor, and in my obsessed efforts to forget her I tried to push you away. I . . . I . . . just did not know how to deal with you . . . when every one of your gestures accused me of my illegitimate deeds. Every time I looked into your eyes I would look at her eyes and I just could not resist it. That is why I kept you away, in the Academy, that is why I always refused to show you my love for you . . . But, but I loved you, son . . . I always did."

 


"Father!" I only managed to say.

 


"And the worst of all," he continued huskily, " The most stupidly tragic thing of all this is that . . .no matter how hard I tried, how much I plunged into work, how many women I had, how many places I traveled to, or all the pleasures I regaled myself with, I never…never forgot your mother. . . I just made a fool of myself and now that I finally realized it, now that I could have the courage to repair my mistakes, now it is too late, son," he ended crying silently.

 


"My worst punishment is that I will neither see your mother nor receive her forgiveness," he continued bitterly, "But you son, you, would you ever forgive me?" he asked me or rather pleaded, something I never dreamt Richard Grandchester could do. What was I going to say to this man, at the end of his life, when I, on my own, had fallen in his same errors?

 


" I forgive you . . . father," I answered hoarsely, "I do not judge you father."

 


"Thank you, Terri," he said with a relieved accent, using the name he used to give me when I was a child. I lifted my arm and we hold each other’s hands for a while. Then, we remained in silence for an endless moment, for the first time in my life my father and I were in piece with each other and there was no need of words to feel at ease.

 


The sun set in the horizon while we were there and the shadows covered the large chamber. The fire dancing in the chimney lit the room with timid reflects. My father’s breathing was turning heavier and in the evening silence, only the pace of his damaged lungs could be heard. In that moment, a sudden question erupted in my mind.

 


"Father," I said braking the silence this time.

 


"Yes?" he said tiredly.

 


"Why didn’t you ever attempt to force me to come back to England . . . I mean, you could have done it then, I was only sixteen and still under your custody."

 


"I guess she never told you," answered my father with an enigmatic smile.

 


"She?"

 


"Yes, your school girl, the one you were so much in love with"

 


That was the last straw. I turned my face towards the fire unable to hide my bewilderment. At the end, everything in my life was reduced to a single name.

 


"Candy," I said in a whispered.

 


"Yes, that was the name," my father remarked. "You know son, I have never met anyone as convincing as that young lady."

 


"How…how did you meet her?" I asked hesitantly.

 


"Well," said the old man with weak voice, "When you left I went to the Academy to talk with the Principal . . .she . . .she called the girl . . . this Candy . . . to question her about you, because she thought Candy could know where you had gone."

 


"She didn’t know that much," I immediately said with the same eagerness I would have used if I had known then that my father was kind of implying Candy in our family-dispute.

"Yes, she couldn’t tell me that much about where you were . . .but . . . she talked to me so insistently about letting you free . . . I . . . I don’t know . . . I just could not resist her arguments . . . It is amazing how persuasive that little woman can be. After the years, I think that following this young lady’s advice was the best thing I ever did," he concluded with an even weaker voice.

 


"Candy!" I just repeated absentmindedly, lost in my own memories. At every new twist of my existence, I always end up finding out that the best things of my life are always related to you, Candice White.

 


"Did you . . . did you ever see her again?" my father ventured to ask. Perhaps my expression then gave away more than I wanted.

 


"Yes." I said not able to hide my melancholy.

 


Again, a long silence reigned between the two of us in the chamber. The night shadows mingled with the playful glitter in the fireplace, projecting ghost-like shapes on the ancient walls. My father fell asleep and I remained by his side for hours that I could not count. I had seen in his eyes the same mortal shadow that Susanna had the day of her death. That way I knew my father’s end was coming and since I had never been close to him in his life, I felt the need to stay with him in his death.

 


After a time that seemed incredibly long, my father woke up with a painful look in his face. At his order, a real squad of doctors and nurses came into the room in a useless attempt to retain the life of a man that had already been claimed by God. These people could only give my father more medication that would keep him asleep, painkillers to make the last moments less difficult. When they had abandoned the room leaving my father and I alone, he addressed his eyes to me in the most honest glance he ever gave me.

 


"Thanks, Terri . . . for being here," he mumbled, "I would like your life to be better than mine, son."

 


"I’m fine . . . dad," I lied.

 


"I know . . ." he coughed, "I know that you are lying to me . . . because you never call me dad . . ." he smiled sadly and I returned the smile. After that his face became serious and with great difficulty he added:

 


"Son, do not betray your own feelings. Follow your heart and please . . . for God’s sake . . . do not commit the worst of my sins . . . to have never been happy." Then he stopped for a brief while, as if he were not sure if he should continue or not. Finally, he decided to say the words he was holding. Words I will never forget. "You don’t judge me, and by St. George, I’m the last man on earth to judge you, son . . . but it is clear to me that there is a passion in your heart that you . . .you . . .can not fight . . .don’t do it . . . follow your heart . . .and find your school girl." He ended surrendering at the effect of the drugs that forced him to fall into a dream that would never end. During his sleep, he called my mother three or four times and finally, when the dawn was tearing the night veil my father died holding my hand in peaceful sleep. I could never tell him that I was not going to be able to find "my school girl" because she was already another man’s own. At least, that was what I foolishly believed in that time.

 


After my father’s death, I had to face the difficult legal process that the division of his wealth, political responsibilities, and aristocratic privileges required. If Steward had not been the honorable and efficient lawyer he was, I would not have been able to cope with the extremely complex conflicts that followed. I was surprised to discovered that, even when my father’s main title was inherited to my oldest half-brother and most of his wealth was destined to his wife and her children, my mother and I had also been considered in his will.

 


Needless to say that the Duchess was more than upset, but my father had arranged his business in a way that it was impossible for her to start a legal process to claim for her what my father had left for my mother and me.

 


It was that way that overnight I found myself as the possessor of a modest fortune, the title of Earl, and the villa of Edinburgh, an estate my father insisted in me to have, because as he had bluntly stated in his will, I had been conceived there and he had thought that the fact gave me natural rights to have the land and the house as my own. My first impulse was to decline all those privileges and possessions, but Steward convinced me that I should keep them because that would have pleased my father. The lawyer guaranteed me that I would not have to take part in the Parliament if I did not want, the money could be easily transferred to a bank in America and I could keep the house under his care and use it as a summer dwelling for eventual holidays. Everything he said sounded very sensible but I still struggled a bit with the idea of keeping the villa. I was not sure if I could face the memories that those walls enclosed. For that reason, and before I had made up my mind, I traveled to Scotland in order to test myself and see if I could resist the encounter with the past, but also with the secret intention of giving myself some time to think and reorder my life after Susanna’s death. I was hoping that the ancient building had still locked within its large wooden doors a little bit of the magic Candy spreads everywhere she goes.

 


In those days, there I decided that, since Susanna had died and it was impossible for me to be with the woman I really love, I would never marry anyone. Instead, I would have to find a new crusade to give sense to my life, something that I could feel proud of doing. After those days in Edinburgh, I decided to accept my father’s posthumous gift and leave the villa in Stewart’s hands. The cause I was looking for was waiting for me at my return to America. A couple of months after my father’s death the United States entered the war and I felt the need to join the army in a romantic impulse I did not suspect that would take me to this reencounter with Candy.

 


Then . . . I had to see her again. I had to confirm that she has indeed left the cocoon of her childish frame and become an astonishing woman. I had to live with her this spiritual intimacy in those brief seconds inside the truck. I had to see her fainted in my arms again and taste the soft heat of her unconscious body. I had discovered that I had an opportunity to recover her love, but did not realize it when there was still time, that someone worked a way to separate us again. Finally, I had to live to meet the man who may already have the place I did not appreciate. Now my nightmares will have a face and I can not even allow myself to hate it because I have not proved to be more deserving.

Oh, Candy, Candy . . ! I thought that time would extinguish this fire within me, but as it goes by I only feel how it increases its flames finding no way to control my restless heart. Years pass and I don’t get to see you just as a sweet memory of my teenage years, I can’t think of you as a friend that I haven’t seen for long. I still burn for you as the very first day and even more, but this flame consumes my heart without hope. Why, Candy, can you tell me . . . why am I more faithful than I intended to be?

The clock struck midnight and as if the young man had woken up from a long sleep, or been liberated from a magic spell, he suddenly stood up and made his way towards the truck. There was still a long journey before he could go back to the spot in the forest where his platoon was waiting. He gave a last look at the gothic lines of Notre Dame blurred in the foggy night and said a farewell to his dearest one.

 


"Nymph, in thy orisons, be all my sins remebere’d," he recited as he started the engine.

After a while the truck disappeared in the mist, the man inside ignored then that he was about to encounter a new actor that would play an important part in his life at his return to the camp.

 

[domniki]

CHAPTER EIGHT


The Anniversary

 


"Look at that cart!! He’s coming!!" Cried the children with joyous voices. "He’s here! He’s here!"

 


A small crowd composed of children of all ages jumped and shouted excitedly over the snow-filled yard. A man on a large cart pulled by two strong horses approached Pony’s Home, and the little orphans had recognized him since he had turned the curve. The man was in his early twenties with a large and well-built frame, which revealed that hard, physical work was not alien to him. Despite his wide shoulders and impressive height, his face was still childish and kind, with a pleasant air of honesty in his light brown eyes.

 


When the man got off the cart, he was assaulted by an avalanche of bear hugs, kisses and friendly taps on the shoulder, or whatever the smallest ones could tap on, while the screams increased till they reached an incredible choir of confused questions and welcoming phrases.

 


"Tom, Tom! Have you brought the sweets you promised us?" Asked one little red-haired girl.

 


"Woaw Tom! What beautiful horses you have! Can I ride them, please?" Demanded a boy with a mischievous face.

 


"Milk! Milk! Milk!" Repeated another tiny voice among the crowd.

 


Tom took in his arms the little girl with large blue eyes that demanded milk with insistent cries. She looked incredibly tiny in the young man’s arms but, ironically, she also seemed secure and confident there, knowing that there was no other place on Earth that could be safer for her.

 


"Isn’t it enough with the milk you get from the cow I brought for you last spring, Lizzy?" the young man asked playfully.

 


The little girl lowered her eyes and smiled.

 


"It doesn’t taste as good as the one you bring, Tom!" She said shyly as the man laughed with her flirtatious answer.

 


"I pity the man who will fall in love with you some day, Lyzzy," chuckled Tom putting down the girl while the kids around crushed him with greater force.

 


"Come on everyone!" Cried out Tom, feeling that he would soon collapse and fall down as Gulliver among the Lilliputians. "Hold on for a second, just let me greet Miss Pony and Sister Lyn and I’ll show you what I brought for you," he begged.

 


"They are not home, Tom," said one of the oldest boys.

 


"How come?" He asked, intrigued.

 


"They went to the town with the two elegant men," answered a second boy with brilliant green eyes.

 


"Their names are Albert and Archie," remarked a third boy proud of the information he possessed, " but the girls are in the house."

 


"The girls?" Asked Tom, unbelieving. "Are Annie . . .and . . .and Candy here?"

 


The sole mention of the most legendary and prestigious pensioner that had ever dwelled in Pony’s Home, the great and absent "chief" herself, was enough to silence the small multitude with sudden sadness.

 


"No, Tom," said one of the youngest boys with a proud accent, "she’s still in the war killing Germans!" He added using his arms as though he was holding a rifle.

 


"She’s not killing anyone!" Corrected a girl. "She’s nursing the wounded soldiers, you silly!"

 


"Annie is here though," added another girl. "She is with a friend of hers"

"I see," replied Tom taking advantage of the children’s quietness to move towards the front door of the house, but before he could knock on it, the door opened with an unexpected pull.

 


"What’s going on . . ." said a female voice with a worried accent, but the sentence was cut in the middle as a large figure shaded the entrance, blocking the pale winter sun. Tom looked down to discover the delicate young woman that had opened the door. A couple of sweet dark eyes encountered his for a brief second, and Tom realized that the girl in front of him was the first woman he had ever really seen in his whole life. The girl hurried to lower her eyes and greeted the newcomer with a shy smile.

"Excuse me, sir." She was the first one to talk. "I heard the kids screaming and thought that something was going wrong."

 


"There is nothing wrong, miss," replied Tom delighted with the natural modesty displayed unconsciously by the young woman. "The kids and I are old pals and that noise you heard is their usual way to say hello to me."

"I understand."

 


"But, let me introduce myself," Tom said offering his hand to the young woman in front of him. "My name is Thomas Stevens, but everyone calls me Tom. I grew up here at Pony’s Home."

 


"I’ve heard a lot about you, Tom," said the girl smiling again and Tom thought she looked more beautiful every time she did that. "I’m Candy and Annie’s friend. My name is Patricia O’Brien, but you can call me Patty," she said, accepting the big hand that the man offered to her.

 


The young woman moved nervously under the bed covers. The golden locks were spread all over the pillow and fell free on her chest, whilst her hands clenched the thick comforter that protected her from the morning cold. The woman by her side understood that the sleeping girl was having a nightmare. She was just in the middle of that kind of dreadful experience in which we need to scream but our voice does not obey our commands.

"Terri!" The blonde finally cried out, jerking her torso violently until she found herself sitting on the bed.

 


"Candy, Candy! Everything is all right!" Said Flammy, trying to calm her friend down.

 


Candy opened her large green eyes to see the small room with light gray walls, the narrow window, barely covered by the white cotton curtains, and Flammy Hamilton on a wheelchair sitting by her side. Then, she suddenly realized what had happened the night they arrived at the hospital. Thus, two thick tears rolled down her cheeks which usual blush had paled because of the fever.

 


"He’s gone. Hasn’t he?" Was her first coherent sentence.

 


"You mean the man who brought us here?" Asked Flammy.

 


"Yes," replied Candy saying more with her saddened eyes than with her monosyllabic answer.

 


"He left the same night we came here, Candy," began Flammy, sympathizing with her friend’s evident pain. "I’m afraid he had strict orders to go back immediately."

 


"I see," said Candy disappointed as she threw herself on the bed with heavy gesture. She rolled over the bed and remained silent for a few minutes, burying her face in the pillows.

 


"Once again he leaves and I can’t even say good bye to him," she thought feeling how the tears filled her eyes once more. "I have to control this. I have to control it!" She told herself.

 


"How long have I been in bed, Flammy?" She asked after a while trying to dismiss her melancholic thoughts.

 


"Almost 36 hours," replied Flammy with her usual precision. "You’ve been sicker than we initially imagined, but it seems that you’ll survive . . . whether we like it or not," she ended, trying to joke Candy’s pain away.

"Very funny!" Responded the blonde, grinning sarcastically. "You need more than a silly fever to get rid of me, Miss Hamilton."

 


"In that you’re right," Flammy accepted and then added in a more serious tone. "A trench and a snowed forest have not been enough either . . ." Flammy lowered her eyes while her hands searched Candy’s own. "I must tell you again, thanks my friend," she ended crushing tightly the blonde’s hand.

 


Candy regaled Flammy with one of her bright smiles and, instead of replying with words, she flung her arms around the brunette’s neck and hugged her tenderly. She had decided to send her sad thoughts to the back of her mind as she was already used to do, and in the following hour the girl occupied her time talking with her friend as she devoured a large breakfast in front of Flammy’s amazed eyes. For the brunette had never seen a convalescent patient that could eat that much in one single meal. Nevertheless, Flammy was not totally fooled by Candy’s apparent cheerfulness. She knew something was going wrong with her old classmate and believed she had a hint of the real cause of Candy’s repressed sadness.

 


Flammy told Candy that, since both of them were ill, the doctors had decided to leave them together in the same room. It was not proper for two ladies to be put into the normal hospital wards, which were all inhabited by wounded men. Julienne had moved to the room next door and was getting so well that she had got back to work that very day. Flammy, on the contrary, would have to be out of duty for three or four months because of the broken bone she had. Fortunately, her wound was not a problem any longer. From then on, only the due rest could help the girl in her recovery.

The conversation between the two young women went on vividly. Candy asked about each one of the patients they had brought from the front, about Julienne, Yves and all her favorite people in the hospital and was really surprise when Flammy told her that the director himself had been very interested in her recovery. Candy thought that it was not quite natural for such a busy and important man to care about the little nurse she was. Of course, she ignored that the Audreys’ influence had such a long arm.

After the meal, Candy tried to stand up from the bed for the first time, aided by a chair and despite Flammy’s objections. The brunette was afraid that Candy could feel dizzy because she was still too weak. In her professional opinion it was not wise to try that simple move without having someone who could hold Candy in case she fainted, but the blonde, as usual, did no pay attention to her friend’s pleas. After a couple of failed attempts, Candy managed to rise on her feet and with slow pace marched towards the window where she stood for a while, looking at the spot where Terri had parked the truck that night. A silent sigh escaped from her chest.

"Had Terri said that Suzanna was dead, or had it been her imagination?" Candy tried to remember. She closed her eyes and the scene played again in her mind

 


‘My wife Suzanna? Candy, I never married Suzanna. She died a year ago!’ he had said and his deep voice full of amazement still lingered in her ears. Yes! Candy was sure that they were the last words she had heard from him.

 


"What are you going to do now?" Asked Flammy from her wheelchair, interrupting Candy’s thoughts and visibly annoyed by her friend’s stubbornness. "Please, Candy go back to bed!"

 


Candy woke up from her reflections and with the same hesitant step came back to the bed.

 


"See, Flammy?" She asked triumphantly, as she reached the bed. "Next time I’ll climb a tree"

 


"You are so stupid!" Retorted Flammy with faked irritation, but giving away her amusement with a big smile. There was not a person in the world that could make her laugh as Candy did. She told herself that she had been a great dumb in the past, trying to keep herself distant from Candy. But then, she knew that their new friendship was going to last forever. Yet, there was something that was bothering her . . . something that could work a way to separate the brunette from her new gained friend.

 


"Candy . . .?" Said Flammy hesitantly when Candy had already found her way back into the bed covers, "May I ask you a personal question?"

"Sure! We’re friends," replied Candy nonchalantly.

 


"Well, I’m not sure . . . please do not take me wrong . . ." mumbled Flammy still doubtful.

 


"Come on, Flammy, get straight to the point!" Responded Candy impatiently.

"Ummm. . . I was wondering if the man . . . the man who drove us back to Paris," she began hesitantly, "was the same one who went to our Hospital in Chicago, to look for you certain night."

 


Candy looked at Flammy, stunned by the question and by her friend’s amazing memory. Yet, she knew that Terri’s face was not one that a woman could easily forget, even if it was the insensible Flammy. Candy sighed and smiled sadly. It was a visible sign that her friend was right.

"Well, apparently you don’t forget a face," Candy said melancholically.

"I understand," continued Flammy not looking at Candy’s eyes, " I suppose that it was shocking for you to see him again under such circumstances."

Candy took her right hand to her chin and rubbed it softly, as if she were thinking how far she could go talking about her feelings.

 


"Well, I certainly was not expecting to see him after all this time," she whispered.

 


"You and this man . . . I mean . . . " murmured Flammy not knowing if she was going too far in her questioning.

 


"Were an issue, you want to say . . ." ended Candy bluntly. "Yes, you’re right Flammy, we were sort of . . . emotionally involved, once."

 


"I didn’t want to intrude in your private life Candy, " apologized Flammy feeling a little guilty. "It is just that I was almost sure I have seen him before. I recall that evening in Chicago . . . I was mad at you for leaving when you were on duty and treated the poor man very rudely that time. Perhaps, I also felt kind of jealous because you had such a handsome man interested in you. . . He was so nervous and anxious to see you then . . . May I ask what happened between you two?"

 


"Oh Flammy!" Sighed Candy downheartedly. "For certain reasons it just did not work. He got engaged with someone else."

 


"Really?" asked Flammy surprised. " I had the impression that he was mad about you. But if he did that then he just didn’t deserve you."

 


Candy looked at her friend totally startled at her comment. Even when Candy had suffered deeply because of the sad events that had separated her from Terri, it had never occurred to her to set the guilt on him, because she had always thought that both of them had been mere victims of the circumstances.

 


"You see, Flammy, I cannot blame him for that. Moreover, at the end he didn’t marry the other girl. I’m afraid she died," Candy concluded.

 


"And you still have feelings for him, don’t you?" Asked Flammy getting mad at Candy for loving someone who, from the brunette’s point of view, did not deserve such grace.

 


Candy lowered her eyes and crushed the covers within her hands.

 


"I think so, Flammy, but I believe that it is an unrequited love. Things change with time, you know. I don’t think I mean that much to him now," she ended. Flammy then hugged her friend silently, feeling blameworthy for removing old injuries in her friend’s heart.

 


The fire twinkled with quiet noises in the stone chimney. Its soft flames lit the room partially, leaving the rest in silent shadows, which surrounded the two young men sitting on the modest couch in front of the fireplace. That morning, Archie and Albert had escorted Miss Pony and Sister Lyn to the town in order to buy toys, clothes, shoes and food for the little orphans. The two men were astounded at the ladies’ endless energies that impelled them from shop to shop with a mysterious force. After the first two hours, the two young Audreys were already exhausted, but Miss Pony and Sister Lyn were still on the move and practically dragged them for other three hours until the whole shopping list was completed.

 


"No wonder where Candy learnt to be the way she is!" Albert had commented to Archie when they had a brief chance to sit down in a shoe store while the ladies were buying shoes for every kid in the orphanage.

"Tell me about it," had been Archie’s only answer. The young man was too tired to go any further in his comments.

 


The truth was that, since Albert had become the head of the Audreys, the fund problems that Pony’s Home had always suffered from in the past, disappeared like a work of magic. Candy and Albert had agreed to send a generous sum to the orphanage on a regular basis, which solved most of the children’s needs. Moreover, as if the Audrey’s help had not been enough, Miss Pony and Sister Lyn counted also on the regular supply of Tom’s meat and milk, and more recently with Annie’s donations. The young lady had conquered her own fears and finally had dared to ask her father for help. The kind man, of course, was more than pleased to assist her daughter in her noble desires.

 


However, the orphanage’s expenses had not increased dramatically because the ladies were aware of the fact that having everything someone craves for does not make one’s happiness. So, they were careful with the money they received from their generous benefactors, former pensioners of the house, who had grown up to become their most important supporters.

"It is good that they show interest in our cause, but we should teach our kids to live with sobriety and moderation. Excessive luxuries do not feed the soul with the best feelings and might," Miss Pony used to say.

 


Notwithstanding this wise principle, during that blessed day in which Albert and Archie had decided to help the ladies with their shopping, Miss Pony and Sister Lyn had enjoyed beyond their wildest dreams getting all the things they needed for that holiday celebration. After all, it was Christmas day the following morning and from time to time – as Sister Lyn would say in her poetic language – it was good to brake an alabaster vase and spread an expensive fragrance all around the house to celebrate a great occasion.

That had been Albert and Archie’s little adventure following two females on holidays shopping, and even when everyone in the house was already sleeping – it is a must to go to bed early on Christmas Eve if you want to find your sock filled to the top with a thousand marvels – the two men had remained in the room looking silently to the fire, while sipping slowly a cup of hot chocolate. They were still too startled by their shopping experience to fall asleep.

 


"I believe that you should close that deal as soon as possible, Albert," suggested Archie with serious tone.

 


"Do you think so?" Asked Albert doubtfully.

 


"Yes of course, the political situation in Mexico has been quite irregular for the last 8 years," continued Archie with the air of a man who is well informed and sure of his conclusions. "I don’t think we should keep the properties and the oil company there. If you have the chance to sell it now, do it. You never know what new crazy communist leader can attain the presidency in Mexico."

 


"I don’t blame them though," suggested Albert with his blue sight lost in the fire shapes, "Old president Díaz was a tyrant who just increased the wealth of a few people who were his friends and left the rest of the country in the worst misery of all."

 


"That’s true, but I don’t think those peasants without education that are fighting for the power right now can solve the country’s problems either," sentenced Archie leaving his empty cup on the floor.

 


" I don’t know, Archie," continued Albert as if he were talking to himself, "maybe they are doing what is right . . . I mean, trying to change those things they feel are unfair, though I don’t approve the use of violence, not even in a noble cause."

 


"Could things change by other means?" Argued Archie with a suspicious look.

 


"Well, there was a Hindu man in South Africa, five or four years ago," commented Albert recalling a piece of news he had read on the papers. " He obtained a few things just by refusing to obey an unjust law. He convinced a group of people and they followed him even when they were put into jail for some time. However, at the end, the law they were against was changed. He made things happen pacifically."

 


"I think I heard about it too," said Archie, forcing his mind to remember the details. "His name was Handy, Gendy . .no . . Ghandi!" He smiled when his mind retrieved the information he was looking for.

 


"Yes, that was the name," smiled back the older man, "That is the kind of method I approve, pacifist but organized resistance to any unfair authority."

"I find you quite utopistic tonight!" Chuckled Archie tapping Albert’s shoulder. "You don’t sound like the head of our powerful family," he joked.

"Maybe not," whispered Albert looking at his half empty cup, and then added with a strange sparkle in his eyes, " I would like that you get more involved in our businesses once you graduate next year, Archie. In fact, I’d love that you could take charge of the whole thing in case I . . . I had to be absent for some reason."

 


"Really?" asked Archie not able to hide his gladness. "I would be very honored!"

 


"I’m happy to hear that," replied Albert with a look of relief in his eyes. "Actually, once you get married to Annie, you’ll make a more trusting business man than myself. Married men have more moral prestige than hopeless bachelors like me," he laughed briefly but cut off his personal joy very soon when he realized that Archie’s face had been swept by a sad shadow.

 


"There we go again," said Albert to himself, "the same old wound."

"Oh Albert, Albert!" Sighed Archie melancholically, "you had mentioned again that issue that makes me doubt of myself."

 


"It is better not to discuss that my friend," suggested Albert with serious air.

 


Archie stood up and rested his hands on the chimney’s mantel, as his eyes wandered on the fire depths. Inside him, an old fight was taking place once more.

 


"I’m sick of keeping it to myself!" He finally said bitterly, facing Albert with a frown on his face. "I can swear I had fought it for years. I had wanted to keep my promises, but I just can’t deny what is burning within me, Albert!"

Albert left his cup next to the one Archie had used and reclined his back on the couch. He was really worried about his nephew’s problem and wanted to help him sincerely, but he knew well that the solution Archie desired was an impossible one.

 


"Archie," he finally said looking at the younger man directly to his amber eyes, " I’m going to tell you once for all what I think about your situation. Though, I believe you might not like my opinion."

 


"Go ahead, Albert. I’m desperate!" Admitted the young man.

 


"I think you’re making a mistake," started Albert articulating his every word. "You’re obsessed with an illusion that does not allow you to see the blessings you have in Annie. What you feel, or believe to feel for Candy is just a useless waste of emotional energies because it is obvious that she has never been interested in you, as a man."

 


"But I have loved her so deeply during all these years!" Confessed Archie.

" I’m really sorry to hear that Archie," continued Albert sympathizing with his nephew’s sorrow, "nothing would please me more than seeing Candy in love with you. Then you could marry her, be in peace with yourself and I could feel totally relieved from the biggest responsibility I have ever had. She would have someone to take care of her. Someone I could trust the little sister I have in her."

 


"Oh, Albert, I would make her so happy if she only cared for me, . . . even if it were just half the love she wasted in Grandchester."

 


"You should not talk about things you don’t understand Archie," responded Albert when he heard his former friend’s name. "The point is not here who she loved in the past, but that it has never been you the one she’s graced with her love, while Annie has not had eyes for any man but you."

 


"What can I do if after all these years I have not succeeded to get Candy out of my mind?" Asked the young man.

 


"Then my dear friend, if you truly think that you don’t love Annie the way she deserves to be loved, end up with whatever you don’t believe in, but do not think that such a decision would change your present situation with Candy," ended Albert standing up.

 


"That is a tough decision to make," sighed Archie with a frightened gesture.

 


"It is, indeed," confirmed the older man, "and it would surely break Annie’s heart. I only hope that you don’t regret it later," he sentenced with serious inflection.

 


Neil Loka served himself the sixth scotch of the evening. It was very late and he was annoyed for having been waiting for long. Next to the fine crystal glass there were a few papers on a yellow envelope with the seal of the Loka family. The grandfather clock stroke midnight and he lifted his glass toasting in the loneliness.

 


"Merry Christmas!" He said with a smirk.

 


In that moment a stiffed man entered the room to announce the arrival of some visitors.

 


"Excuse me, sir," said the butler with affected gesture, "the gentlemen you were expecting have arrived."

 


"Let them in," he replied dryly and a second later three men in black coats and felt hats entered the room walking decisively towards the bar that Neil had in his office. By their secure strides it could be thought that it was not the first time they visited the place.

 


"You’re late," was Neil’s cold welcoming, "I have already told you that I don’t like to wait."

 


"We are very sorry, Mr. Loka," apologized one of the men, "We had a little problem that took us some time to be solved, the cops, you know," he added lowering his tone of voice.

 


"I’ll spare you this time," replied Neil leaning on the large leathered armchair he was sitting on, "as long as you bring my package with you."

 


"If you also have ours, sir," remarked the second man caustically with a mysterious glitter in his gray eyes.

 


"Well, gentlemen," said Neil looking boldly at the three visitors, "I’m a man of my word, the documents are in the envelope, over the bar."

 


The gray eyed-man nodded briefly to the third man and the latter hurried to check the contents in the envelope.

 


"Everything is in here, Buzzy," said the third man when he had verified the papers inside the envelope.

 


"Well, Mr. Loka," said Buzzy, "it is always a pleasure to do businesses with a man like you. Here is your package," he added handing in a small box to the young man.

 


"My pleasure," answered Neil from his arm chair as he sipped again his scotch. "Would you like to have a drink?"

 


"No thank you, sir. We don’t drink while we work, " refused gently the first man, "but whenever you need more poppy juice or be in the mood to have a good time in our game house, you know we’ll be always at your service, sir."

Neil nodded graciously with a sarcastic smile. It was then when the door opened all of a sudden, startling the four men in the room. Neil’s friends took their hands to their coats in an instinctive move.

 


"Neil! What the heck…!" said a female voice with a slight drunken accent bursting in the chamber, but as the woman realized the presence of the three strangers she amazingly gained composure and with fast eye inspected the men in front of her.

 


"I didn’t know you had guests, brother," stated Liza Loka as she twisted flirtatiously one of the auburn strands that fell on her shoulder.

 


"We are just leaving, madam," said the man with gray eyes as he felt how the young woman’s sight set on him with seductive glisten.

 


"Excuse my brother’s rudeness," replied the woman without paying attention to the man’s words. "Let me introduce myself gentlemen, my name is Liza Loka," she said extending her gloved hand to the man in front of her, the one with gray eyes and neat brown mustache that her eyes had chosen since she finished her professional inspection on the three men.

 


"Enchanté, madame," said Buzzy kissing Liza’s hand while he gave the young woman an alluring smile, "Mr. Loka had never told us that he had such a beautiful sister."

 


"That is because my brother has a terrible taste for women," remarked Liza retrieving her hand and flashing a recriminating look at his brother, "but why don’t you stay with us, there is a party downstairs and we’d be glad if you joined us."

 


"We appreciate your kindness madam," said the first man, "but we have other appointments."

 


"I see," replied Liza without taking her eyes off the man with the mustache, "But we’ll be seeing you around soon, I guess."

 


"I hope so, madam," said the man with gray eyes as he and his companions left the room.

 


Once the men had disappeared and the two Lokas felt they were alone, Liza turned her head towards her brother with an amused expression in her face.

 


"That guy is cute, indeed," she commented playfully, and a second later her attention was drawn to the package Neil had in his hands, "What do you have in there, bro?" she asked curiously.

 


Neil stood up and moved slowly to the bar to refill his glass with more whisky. Then, he gave his sister a conspirational look whilst the golden liquid crept through his throat, making him feel more and more at ease.

"This, my dear sister," he said brandishing the package, "is something that can give you a greater pleasure than all your lovers together. It’s called opium."

 


"Oh Neil, you’re doing drugs!" said Liza mischievously. "That is a very mean thing, but as long as you don’t say anything about those "friends" of mine that visit my room, then I won’t say a word about your new distraction."

"As in the old good days, huh?" He asked with a wink. "Come on, let’s make a Christmas toast," suggested Neil as he served a glass of port for her sister, knowing well that kind of wine was her favorite drink.

 


"Well, since you’re so happy this can be a good moment to tell you some good news I have for you, dear," commented Liza happily. " But, hold on, I’ll bring you my present in a second," she said and went out of the room coming back a second later with a couple of magazines in her hands.

 


Neil observed that his sister’s face was radiant. The news that she had were surely important as well as favorable. Liza moved happily towards the bar, almost doing a triumphal dance till she sat on a stool in front of the bar. Then, she looked at her brother straight to his eyes.

 


"Dear brother, after this you will have to thank me eternally," she sang her words handing one of the magazines to a very intrigued Neil. "As you can see in the main article of this magazine your old rival lost his one-legged fiancée a year ago."

 


Neil’s eyes went wide when he learnt the old news and Liza amused herself with her brother’s reaction.

 


"Oh Neil, Neil, you are so silly," she mocked, "I know what you’re thinking, you fear that now our beloved actor will run to Candy’s arms sooner or later, don’t you?" She paused, delighted at Neil’s suffering. "But he won’t. I can swear that."

 


"Why are you so sure? Are you going to tight him up, sis’?" Asked Neil, visibly annoyed.

 


"I did something better, my dear brother," she stated. "Remember that trip I made on my own to Denver, despite Grandmother Aylo’s complains?"

 


"Yes."

 


"Well, I didn’t go to Denver but to New York, before this Suzanna died, and with my own white little hands left in Terri’s mail box a present for him," she began laughing evilly.

 


"Which was…?" asked Neil beginning to like the guessing game.

 


"An envelope with a newspaper note, the one that announced Candy’s engagement with you, my dear. Of course your name was not mentioned there but it was clearly stated that she was going to get married soon," Liza explained with shinning eyes.

 


"That must have pissed him off," laughed Neil hitting the bar in frank joy.

 


"I rented a carriage and waited outside till he arrived home." continued Liza.

 


" It was very late in the evening, but the long wait was really worthwhile because, after he arrived, it didn’t take him long to find out his ‘present’. I can tell you that thanks to the fuss he made. That stupid man! I still don’t understand what you guys see in that disgusting orphan."

 


"Come on Liza, tell me what you heard" asked Neil so delighted at the story that he ignored his sister’s comments about his own feelings for Candy.

 


"You should have been there, bro’! The man got mad! To judge by the noises, he must have broken every single piece of furniture he had!" Said Liza with cut sentences due to the laughter that made the young woman bend her body. "I can assure, my dear, that after receiving such news he won’t even think of a reconciliation with Candy. Never!"

 


"That was brilliant, Liza! I love you!" Said Neil, kissing his sister on the forehead.

 


"You ruined my make up, Neil!" She said pushing him away. "But that is not all," continued Liza handing in a second magazine with Terri’s photo on the cover, "Have a look at this one. As you can see, the magazine is recent."

Neil read the heading but this time his smile faded away until it was replaced by a frown.

 


"He enrolled!" Whispered the young man drinking another sip of his scotch.

"Yes! Isn’t he stupid?" Asked Liza, giggling.

 


"This might not be as good as you think, Liza," said Neil with a worried expression, "He’s now in France, just where Candy is. I don’t like that!"

 


"Come on Neil don’t be a wet blanket!" Protested the young woman taking the glass of port in her right hand, "Even in the remote case that they could see each other again, Terrence would still believe that she is married. Nothing will happen, you’ll see, and if you get lucky the Germans will do you a favor sending him to the other world. That, I must admit, I would regret a bit because I still believe he’s devilishly handsome, but if that makes you happy, I’ll be glad for you. Moreover, if I can’t have the guy then nobody should have him," she ended with a jubilant smile and raising her glass, added triumphantly, " To us bro," she toasted.

 


"To us my dear sister!"

 


Albert had not been brought up in Pony’s Home but that Christmas morning he seemed to be one more of the little orphans. The man played, crept on the floor, ran all around the house, climbed to the tree, made the largest snowman, fought on the snow battle with all his might, and became excited as a five-year-old when the kids opened their presents, in front of his very amazed friends and the two ladies who ran the orphanage. However, by lunch time the young man was already weary and hoped that the kids would be as exhausted as he was, but his expectations proved wrong very soon. After the meal, the kids restarted their endless games with renewed energies. This time Albert understood that the only person able to cope with such a hectic pace was Candy and therefore, he quit, leaving Tom and Archie as the new victims of the tireless crew.

 


Sitting alone in the leaving room, while the four ladies worked laboriously in the kitchen preparing the Christmas dinner and the poor other two young men were about to be flayed by hordes of ferocious little Indians, Albert thought about the conversation he had had with Archie the previous night. During the last two months he had been pondering carefully a series of actions that could lead him to the freedom he dreamt of with the least inconvenience for his family. Yet, the plan would take sometime and perhaps what really concerned him in first place was Candy’s situation.

What worried him the most was not the fact that she was in France, but especially the certainty that she was a woman, alone and vulnerable, in a man’s world. Albert told himself that he would not feel free to follow the calls of his own heart, as long as his protégée did not have someone who could look after her in his absence. "Candy is independent and self-sufficient," he thought, "but I would be a lot more at ease if I knew she had someone taking care of her." Albert’s reflections were suddenly interrupted by the noise of a car parking on the yard. He left the book he had been reading and stood up to see who had arrived.

 


The sweet aroma of Miss Pony’s famous Christmas pie invaded the kitchen, the hall and the leaving room. With her hands protected by stuffed mittens, Patty went out of the kitchen carrying two big pies in order to put them on the large table, which Annie was already setting. The view was too tempting for one of the defenseless cowboys who were captured by the merciless Indians. All of a sudden, the cowboy freed himself from the ropes that tied him up with not so tight grip, and making a sing to the kids to let them know that he would be out of the game for a second, he followed the girl with the pies.

 


"May I help you?" Asked Tom with a gallant tone unusual for him.

 


"Don’t let him get close to those pies!" Warned Annie from the table, "He’ll make them disappear in a second!"

 


Patty laughed shyly and nodded kindly to refuse the help she had been offered. Despite the young woman’s refusal Tom followed her, attracted by both temptations, girl and pie.

 


Patty finally put the pies on the table while Annie gave Tom a retorting look that warned him not to attempt any dirty trick.

 


"You see that man over there, Patty?" Asked Annie giggling, "He is the fastest Christmas pie eater I have ever seen, do not trust him a bit."

 


Patty just smiled as she took off the mittens she had on her hands and set them on the table. Released from the cooking gloves, she tried to rearrange her dark brown hair, which fell up to her shoulders in an abundant mane that she held in a pony tail. Behind the young woman, two light brown eyes observed her with special attention, oblivious to Annie’s suspicious sight. The pies had ended up on second term, somehow.

 


"Can you hold this for me?" Asked Patty to Annie giving her a hairpin, while she tried to fix the few strands that were out of their place.

 


"Do not ask me, I’m busy," responded Annie mischievously, "But the gentleman behind you will surely lend you a hand. He’s doing nothing but staring," she suggested.

 


"Of course!" Said Tom, waking up from his daydreaming.

 


Patty turned her head to see Tom’s face, but she could not sustain his direct look and immediately lowered her eyes, as she handed him the hairpin. Then, she silently fixed her hair whilst the blush began to cover her cheeks. Meanwhile, Tom simply observed the girl, leaning his back on one side of the stone chimney. It was then when Miss Pony and Sister Lyn came into the room carrying two oversized turkeys with the whole Indian tribe following them.

 


"Oh dear, you’re both under the mistletoe," remarked Miss Pony nonchalantly, "Come on Tom, follow the tradition, kiss the girl!" She ended with a smile.

 


If Patty’s cheeks were already flushed before Miss Pony’s teasing remark, when the old lady uttered the terrible "kiss the girl", Patty went redder than a fresh beet in summer time. Suddenly, it seemed that everyone in the house was looking at them intendedly. An uncomfortable silence surrounded them and Patty felt she was going to faint when she realized that Tom lowered his head.

 


In a second that was endless for the shy girl, Tom took her right hand and placed a kiss on Patty’s shaking fingers. The whole crew burst in laughter and applauded fiercely while Annie wandered where in the way of life, Tom had stopped being the obnoxious little kid she remembered from her childhood to become the kind young man he was.

 


"News from France!!!" Cried out Albert who entered the room in that moment accompanied by George Johnson.

 


Miss Pony and Sister Lyn made the sign of the cross instinctively, Annie went pale, Patty forgot about the incident under the mistletoe, Tom arched his right eyebrow, Archie’s eyes shone with anxiety, and the children stopped the racket they always made.

 


"Come on, son, tell us!" Miss Pony said.

 


"There are two telegrams," began Albert in his baritone voice, " One is from Candy and the other is from the director of the hospital where Candy works."

 


"Did anything happened to Candy?" Asked Annie fearfully, searching Patty’s eyes for support.

 


"No Annie, this is a good piece of news, listen everyone," Albert said and he began to read:

 


"Dear friends,

I’m back in Paris, safe and well. Hopefully I’ll be with you for next Christmas.In the meanwhile, happy holidays and God bless you all.

Candy."

 


"Thank God, for listening to our prayers," murmured Sister Lyn and the whole room was invaded by a choir of voices that repeating one to the other: "she’s fine", "she’s safe".

 


"What does the other telegram say, Albert?" Asked Archie, quite intrigued.

"Well, Miss Pony, Sister Lyn, dear friends," responded Albert looking at everybody’s eyes with playful sight, "I’m really proud to let you know what Major Erick Vouillard wrote to me."

 


Dear Mr. William A. Audrey,

I’m proud to inform you that Miss Candice White Audrey will receive a medal for her heroic deeds, which saved the life of five of our men and two of her colleagues. Miss Audrey has honored her country and her family with her courageous behavior.

Congratulations,

Major Erick Vouillard.

 


"That is our chief!!!!" Cried Jimmy Cartwright, who had entered the room in the precise moment Albert was beginning to read the second telegram. Jimmy had come with his father to pay a Christmas visit to their neighbors and, as any member of Pony’s family, the lad had entered without knocking. Such a thing was possible in Pony’s home because the house was never locked. Jimmy, who was already fourteen, had wanted to join the army when the war had started, but as his age did not allow him to do so, he had to make do with his boss’ adventures in France. Thus, the news filled him with great pride.

 


"Well, Candy is fine, and she won a medal!" Said Miss Pony brandishing a bottle of wine, "Now that almost all our dearest ones are here, and that includes you both Jimmy and Mr. Cartwright, isn’t it a good reason to make a toast?"

 


The group welcomed the suggestion and a few minutes later everyone had a glass with something to drink - wine for the adults and pink lemonade for the children.

 


"To Candy, . . . and to the end of the war!" Toasted Miss Pony and everyone joined her lifting the glasses.

 


That night, the best Christmas present everyone had received, had come wrapped in an envelope with a French postal seal. Among the very different voices that burst in warm expressions of joy a tiny voice could be heard:

"You see, she must have killed some Germans over there!"

 


There are dates in our lives that mark us with unforgettable memories. Dates we might try to ignore all year long, but as we get close to them, they force us to replay in our minds the events that had made them so memorable. Sometimes we would like not to be able to recall, sometimes we would love to close our eyes and forget. But then, a calendar page strikes our face and we just can’t avoid the reminiscence, which assaults our souls with the arrival of each anniversary.

 


Once again, Saint Jacques hospital had a new director. Major Vouillard had been appointed for the position after Louis De Salle had been sent to the Western Front. At first, everyone wondered which had been the reason for such a sudden change. After all, De Salle had been running the hospital for less than two months and it was unusual for a director to last so short time in the position. However, as nobody could understand the motives that had inspired Vouillard’s designation, the matter was soon forgotten and partially interpreted as one of those incomprehensible oddness of war times.

 


In an attempt to ease the tensions suffered during those days, Vouillard decided to organize a party that would serve to different purposes, killing more than two birds with one stone. The occasion would let him know the personnel among a warmer atmosphere, it would relax the stress caused by the recent changes and serve as a frame to present the little American heroine with the medal she had been awarded. The excuse Vouillard had used to organize the party had been quite simple: New Year’s Eve.

To spend the holidays in the middle of nowhere, away from home, and perhaps awaiting the own death, is not quite an attractive perspective. In spite of that, the U.S.A. Second Division had to cope with such a sad reality. What the men had left to celebrate the occasion was a bottle of cheap wine and the company of a few priests that had been sent by the French government to encourage the troops. For Terrence Grandchester, who did not drink and was not a fervent believer, the authorities’ Christmas present had not meant much. Even worse, the arrival of the winter holidays was not an event he was looking forward, especially because of the sad memories that haunted him during those dates.

 


"You look beautiful tonight!" Said Yves to the young blonde by his side.

 


"Pink is definitely your color. Did you know that?"

 


"My friend Annie says that," replied Candy smiling softly. She had chosen a chiffon dress in pale pink tone for the occasion. As a matter of fact, that was the only formal dress that Candy had packed the night she had practically run away from her apartment. For that special occasion Julienne had insisted in helping Candy with her hairdo. As a result, Candy was wearing her hair in a braided bun with a cascade of gracious curls falling over her neck.

 


"Well, that friend of yours, Annie, must have a good taste," commented Yves with a smile. The young doctor had been on cloud nine since Candy had accepted him as her escort for the party and he was determined to enjoy the evening as much as possible.

 


Yves had kept his promise to take care of the blonde’s health and was proud of his favorite patient’s fast recovery. However, there was something that kept the young man a little worried and puzzled. It was that absent look in Candy’s eyes, as if for brief moments her mind flew away, to distant lands he could not reach. What was Candy thinking about every time her eyes got lost in the nothingness?

 


"Don’t you drink with us, sergeant?" Asked a middle age priest with brown beard. "I understand this is not our best wine, but it is New Year’s Eve."

 


"Excuse me, father," answered Terri with a polite smile, "I don’t drink any kind of alcoholic beverage."

 


"Oh really?" Said the priest with amazed eyes. "That is quite a remarkable thing for a soldier. Though, I must admit, it is also a healthy habit."

 


"I used to drink a lot," confessed Terri, a little bit moved by the natural sympathy that the priest inspired him. For some reason that bearded men with dark black eyes made him feel good, " I could not control it, you see, so I quit."

 


"Good decision, sergeant," responded the priest with friendly tone, "but perhaps you could join us with a cup of hot tea?"

 


The young man smiled sadly, but accepted the invitation.

 


The large room, the doctors and nurses dressed up for the occasions, the speeches, the ceremony, the dance, the toast, everything seemed dimmed by a thick fog in Candy’s eyes. Despite her efforts to enjoy the evening her mind did not obey her will. She could only think of one single thing: the date.

 


December the 31st. December the 31st. December the 31st.




It was that date hammering in her temples with insistent pounding.

The men around him, the winter cold, the priest by his side, the soldiers’ jokes, the laughter . . . everything was fuzzy, unreal, in Terri’s eyes. Although he had tried not to think about it, he knew he was losing again as his memories took control of his mind.

 


December the 31st. December the 31st. December the 31st.

 


The date echoed inside his heart and he could not avoid it.

 


"December the 31st ," Candy thought, "it was six years ago. It was cold outside and I had drunk too much champagne."

 


"December the 31st ," Terry thought, "it was foggy. It was 1911 and I was feeling terribly sad, betrayed, abandoned. . . "

 


"He was crying when I saw him," Candy told herself. " He was so handsome!"

 


"She was wearing her hair tied with a red bow," Terri remembered. "She looked so beautiful that night!"

All the medical personnel lifted their glasses to toast.

 


"To Marshal Foch and the Victory over Germany! " Said Major Vouillard with a solemn voice and right after added in a merrier tone: "Bonne année pour tous!" (Happy New Year for all).

 


In one corner of the room a young blond woman made her personal toast.

 


"Happy New Year, Terri!" Said Candy in a whisper as she lifted her glass.

"To President Wilson and the battles to come," toasted Captain Jackson vehemently, "Happy New Year for all of us!"

 


"Happy New Year, freckles," thought Terri raising his cup, "and happy sixth anniversary too."

 


The clock announced the arrival of the New Year. The historical 1918 had been born. In distant corners of the glove, our friends welcomed the year that would change their life dramatically.

 

[domniki]

CHAPTER NINE

​

​

The midnight song

​

​

"I have a Rendezvous with Death"


I have a rendezvous with Death


At some disputed barricade,


When Spring comes back with rustling shade


And apple-blossoms fill the air-


I have a rendezvous with Death


When Spring brings back blue days and fair.

​

….

​

God knows ‘twere better to be deep


Pillowed in silk and scented down,


Where Love throbs out in blissful sleep,


Pulse nigh to pulse, and breath to breath,


Where hushed awakenings are dear . . .


But I’ve got a rendezvous with Death


At midnight in some flaming town,


When Spring trips north again this year,


And I to me pledged word am true,


I shall not fail that rendezvous.

​

Alan Seeger.

​

1918 was going to be a year of great glories shadowed by appalling hells. The Allies had been fighting for over three years in Europe, the North of Africa, Palestine, Mesopotamia, and the North Sea. During all that time, thousands and thousands of valuable lives had been lost in both sides, yet it seemed that not many advances had been made through such a sacrifice. However, at the beginning of the year the scene looked a little bit more favorable for the Central Powers due to certain reasons.

First of all, since 1917 different internal economical and social conflicts had lead to a Civil War in Russia, which was one of the countries in the Allies side. This event had forced the abdication of Czar Nicholas II and the establishment of a provisional government which continued the prosecution of war for some months until the Bolshevik party took control. One of the factors that had given the Bolsheviks so much popularity was their strong opposition against the participation of Russia in the war. Therefore, after their victory on October 1917, the new leaders offered the German government an armistice. On December 15, Russia, Germany and Austria signed this armistice that marked the end of hostilities in the Eastern Front. With this event France, The U.K., Italy and The United States lost an important ally.

With the withdrawal of Russia and Romania in 1917 the Germans had an advantage. The troops which had been assigned to the Russian front were fresh and ready to enter in action. Such circumstances allowed the Central Powers to count with a ten percent of superiority in number over the British, French and American armies in France.

On the other hand, the French forces were exhausted after three years of fighting in an offensive warfare, the troop’s enthusiasm was low and most of the men were either too young or too old to resist the Germans if they decided to organize a massive attack. The British, on their own, were suffering from a shortage of reinforcements and the Prime Minister, David Lloyd George had ordered the reduction of the number of battalions per division. Like in the French army, the men that were available in the British side were mainly raw recruits.

Finally, the Americans had not succeeded to join all their forces since they had entered the war the year before. By the beginning of 1918 only 6 divisions had arrived in France, but two of them had not faced action yet and the other four had just given little support in certain sectors, away from the fire line. However, Germany knew that the arrival of new troops from America was imminent and, if the Central Powers did not start an aggressive and intelligent offensive during the first months of the year, they could end up by losing the Western Front with the arrival of the American reinforcements.

Thus, the German offensive started on March 21st over Arras. The main objective was to open a gap between the British and the French armies that could separate the Allies and force the British to withdraw to the North Sea. For this massive offensive the Germans decided to use a new tactic based on a short but powerful shelling, followed by an artillery frontal attack and ended with the infantry using machine guns as their main weapon. The Germans got to gain territory, made 70,000 prisoners and killed almost 200 000 men in the Allies side. Nevertheless, the battle was considered as a strategic disaster because the principal goal, which was to separate the French and British armies, was not achieved.

The previous year, Ferdinand Foch had been appointed as chief of the general staff of the French Army, though General Pétain was still taking part in the decision making along with Marshal Haig, from the British Army. The vigorous German offensive displayed in Arras forced the Allies to designate one single chief that could lead the moves of both armies in a more coordinated fashion. Haig and Pétain agreed that the most suitable man for such a task was Foch himself. Therefore, Foch was named on April 3rd and from then on he would lead all the Allies forces in the Western Front with determination and aggressiveness.

Despite these measures, the Germans did not cease in their offensive and from April the 9th to the 29th they attacked Armentières , a city in the Department of Nord, just on the border with Belgium. The result obtained by the German Commander Eric von Ludendorff was the same as in Arras: a tactic success, that diminished the Allies forces, but a strategic failure because the British succeeded to stop the German moves.

What was happening with the American Expeditionary Force all the while the French and British armies were trying to resist the German attack? The Americans stayed in the rear, either training or helping in minor tasks, waiting for their destiny. Little by little their hour was getting close.

 


By the beginning of April, Armand Graubner had been serving among the American troops for four months.. He had been assigned by the Church authorities to stay with the Americans in order to help in the rear, give spiritual support, confess and administer the holy oil if necessary. Being a catholic priest working with an army in which most of the elements were protestants was not an easy job, but Father Graubner was such a charismatic fellow that he soon gained the sympathy of every single man in his battalion and even the protestant pastor who was working with him had become his intimate friend.

Graubner was in his middle fifties, thin and tall as a pine tree, with a thick brown beard enlightened by two deep dark eyes, and even when priests are supposed to be serious people he was the least formal man on the entire planet. But that was just one of the many contradictions in his personality; in fact, Armand Graubner was a man of paradoxes. His mother’s father had been a French engineer who moved to Germany to work in the road constructions in that country. Mr. Bernard was married and had one single daughter when he immigrated in Germany and finally settled in a small town called Eschewege, located in the heart of the nation, a few miles to the North of Frankfurt. Armand’s mother grew up in Eschewege and finally married a rich German farmer named Erhart Graubner.

Even when Armand had grown in a protestant country his mother had taken special care to educate him in the catholic faith, following her French tradition. However, his father took advantage of every single opportunity he had to fill his son’s head with every Marxist and rebellious material he found. As a consequence of that very heterodox education by the age of 15 Armand had no faith and was a total skeptic.

When he finished his basic education the young Graubner traveled to Paris to study in the Sorbonne. Yet, once he found himself alone and away from the parental guidance, the young man invested his time in endless parties, soirées and all sort of pastimes. In three years after his arrival in France, he had become a hopeless gambler and a playboy who would engage into a fight too easily and too soon.

Nevertheless, all of a sudden, Armand changed his ways in such a dramatic twist that startled all of his friends beyond their limits. Before they could have time to understand the new Armand, the young man abandoned Paris and traveled to Rome to enter the seminar. Six years later he took the holy orders becoming a priest in 1889.

Despite the new direction his life had taken, Armand was still a mutineer within the heart of one of the most orthodox religions in the world. His faith was sincere and passionate but his ideas were regarded with distrust by the clerical authorities. The avant-garde literature that Armad’s father had shared with his son during his childhood and youth had still a strong influence in the priest he had become. Thus, his preaching was dangerously plagued by explosive statements against oppression, private property, workers’ exploitation and all sort of "strange ideas".

For these reasons Father Graubner was always sent in the weirdest missions away from large cities, but he did not care much about it because he was concerned with dealing with people directly and did not ambition a successful career in Vatican City. Therefore, he was satisfied with his orders to work in the American camp and tried to do his job in his very heterodox style.

Captain Duncan Jackson had found in Father Graubner a new opponent for his chess evenings but still kept inviting Terri, playing either with the young man and talking to the priest or vice versa. However, when Terri did not take part in the game Jackson and Graubner had to do most of the talking because the young man had returned from his short trip to Paris even gloomier and less talkative than before.

"Lower Manhattan, later England, perhaps London" had been the very first words that Jackson had said to Grandchester when the latter arrived at the camp.

"Beg you pardon, Sir?" Terri asked with an absent air.

"I mean sergeant that I finally know where you are from," responded the man with proud tone, "You must have been born in Lower Manhattan, you’ve got that high class New Yorker accent, but mixed with it, there are those British inflexions in your consonants that tell me that you must have spent quite a long time in England. Am I wrong?"

"No, Sir, you are totally right," answered Terri who had lost all interest in the game since certain blonde had reappeared in his life.

"But I still have no idea of the kind of thing you do for a living," admitted the older man.

"I’m an actor, Sir," the young man said straightforwardly without noticing the shock in Jackson’s features. "I live in New York and work as an actor in Broadway. There is not a big mystery on that. Now, if you excuse me I’d like to change clothes."

"Yes, yes, you are dismissed, Grandchester," answered Jackson very disappointed and annoyed. He wanted to find out the last piece of information by himself, but the young man had spoiled his pastime with his sudden honesty. Now he had to find a new game to invest his time.

 


Then, Father Graubner had arrived to offer Captain Jackson what he needed: a good loser in chess and an excellent chatterer.

 


"What do you have in that box, Father?" Asked one corporal to the priest one evening when the men were gathered around the fire.

"That is a souvenir I got from the years I worked in Spain," answered Graubner as his dark eyes shone with the fire light. "It’s a guitar"

"Really?" wondered the man with great interest, "And do you know how to play it?"

"Of course corporal," chuckled the priest while his hands opened the locks of the guitar’s case.

"Then, play something for us, Father" demanded a private sat by the fire.

"Yes, that is a damn good idea," replied another private, "play something with bumps in it."

The bearded man took the instrument in his hands and with ease played a merry melody that the whole squad enjoyed greatly. After he had finished the men applauded fiercely, pleased by the music and the priest’s sympathy.

"That was really nice, Father," said a young private, perhaps still in his teens, "You should play with sergeant Grandchester one of these days."

"As if he would," said mockingly the first corporal lifting his eyes to the sky as a sign of his disbelief.

"Do you mean that sergeant Grandchester plays an instrument too?"

"Well, yes," answered the same corporal, "But he never plays for us as you did. That man is a real owl. Very often he does not sleep in the whole night. I’ve seen him while I’m on duty, he wakes up in the middle of the night and plays the harmonica for hours."

"I see," replied the priest.

"A weird fellow that Grandchester," concluded one of the privates.

"Yes, really weird," responded other two men.

 


Candy was working on the evening shift. A large number of men suffering from terrible burns had been arriving from the North where the Germans were attacking Armentières. It was impossible to find a moment of rest when all what could be heard around were moans and painful cries. Candy did not have time to hear the sorrow of her own heart.

With her characteristic energy the young woman devoted herself to the patients, always willing to lighten their hours either with a simile, a word of comfort, or simply an attentive ear that would listen to those who needed to be heard.

From certain distance a couple of gray eyes looked after Candy with care, silently waiting for a sign that would open the door to the young woman’s heart. But the door was locked and the key lost somewhere in the rear of the Western Front.

"Candy!" whispered Yves making a sign with his right hand, "Could you come here?"

"Sure. What’s up?" asked the girl approaching the place where Yves was standing near a bed.

The young man uncovered a wound he was inspecting and showed the details to the blond nurse next to him. However, the doctor in him was briefly overshadowed by the red blooded man he was, and for a while Yves forgot about the poor wounded on the bed as his eyes wandered over the few golden curls that escaped from the net which held Candy’s hair in a bun. Then his eyes ran over the milky neck, wondering about the taste of that skin, and he ended his bold stroll on the border of the shawl collar of her white uniform.

"Yves?" Candy asked for the second time.

"Oui," he mumbled, abruptly; waking up from his daydreaming, "Oh yes. Do you see this part?" he asked pointing to a section of the wound.

Candy’s eyes understood the sense of Yves’ words as soon as she inspected the patient’s wound and felt that special odor. A black shadow darkened the girl’s sight immediately.

"What are you going to do?" she finally ventured to ask, fearing the answer that could follow.

"I want you to irrigate it for 24 hours," the man said smiling softly as he breathed that dulcet rose fragrance that she wore, "If it worked so well with Flammy, I think we should give this wound a chance. Don’t you think so?"

"Oh Yves!" the girl gasped and by impulse she innocently hugged her friend forgetting that the man beside her was not made out of stone. It was just a fast gesture that didn’t last more than a couple of seconds. Right after, she moved away not even noticing the confusion in the young doctor’s face. That had been the best news she had received in months, so she was too happy to realize what one single of her movements could provoke in the man.

"Thank you for trusting in me!" she said, her face still shining in joy, "What can I do for you?"

"Do again what you just did," he answered in a whisper.

"Pardon?" she asked, already distracted in bandaging the wound of the sleeping patient.

"I said that there’s nothing to thank me for," he lied, "Now, if you excuse me, I must check my other patients in the next ward." He added nodding his head.

The young woman waved her hand and, a moment later, she was engaged in her work once again. A sweet sound like tiny bells ringing inside her pocket made her move her hand and grab the watch she always carried with her.

"It’s 12 o’clock," she thought when she had opened the cover of her watch. Unexpectedly, a sudden sadness claimed her heart. "What’s this?" she wondered with a hand on her chest, "Are you fine? Please, Lord protect him!" She said crossing herself.

The pains that we hide in the bottom of our souls sometimes raise their heads surfacing into reality. During the day, the mind usually employs its strength in multiple worries, but when the evening comes and we see ourselves freed from the trivial details of daily life, the feelings gain control. If we are part of that fortunate and small population of beings living in peace with themselves a quiet sleep does not take long to get in charge of the situation. However, for a large number of people the relaxation that comes every night is just the unhappy opportunity that pushes our restless mind into the realm of insomnia.

That had been the case for Terri since his childhood. He knew well the taste of those endless nights in which his saddest thoughts haunted him taking away the necessary rest. Thoughts of his distant father, his lonely days in the Academy, the absent mother, the obnoxious little siblings or the dreaded duchess, troubled his mind in those early years. Later, his insomnia had an unexpected twist and instead of the usual resentments his mind sauntered into new disquiets about all the different tones of green that a girl’s eyes could display. But even those pleasant concerns had turned distressful along the years. . . .

The young man eyed the April moon over his head and a deep sigh escaped from his chest. It was midnight then, and only the quiet rumor of two soldiers on duty chatting in the distance could be heard in the camp. He sat over a trunk while his right hand searched into his pocket. It was a warm night full of stars.

"Will I ever get a night of steady sleep?" he thought while he began to play his harmonica. The sound of firm steps behind him got lost with the blue tones of the melody he played. Those moments in the loneliness, as his lips caressed the silvered surface obtaining the notes from the instrument which was his most cherished possession, were the single instants of peace in his restive life. Only when he had finished the last note he noticed the presence of a man next to him.

"You find difficult to sleep tonight, sergeant?" asked Father Graubner searching a place for himself on the dried trunk.

"Apparently," Terri replied with no much interest in starting a conversation.

"That used to happen to me, but that was in another life I had," he chuckled.

"Another life?" the young man asked confused.

"Yes, sergeant," said the priest, "The story of my life is divided into two different parts, before and after the old Armand. Would you mind to hear my tale?"

"Go ahead father, these nights are too long and a story is always a good remedy." the young man responded slightly interested. That French man with a German last name had always intrigued Terri.

"When I was about your age, sergeant," the priest began, "I left Germany where I grew up, and came to France to study in Paris, but instead of doing that, I employed my time in all the least recommendable pastimes I could find. You must know, women, game, bad companies that I used to name friends and so on. I had lost my childhood faith and life itself had disappointed me. Nothing I found in my way satisfied me, not even the love of a young woman I did not appreciate."

"Did you love her?" dared Terri to ask with his eyes shining blue in the quiet night.

"I don’t think I really did, sergeant," the older man replied with saddened eyes, " She begged me many times to quit my crazy life style but I was too proud to recognize my mistakes. I didn’t want to surrender my will to anyone, and so I left her. I’m afraid I broke her heart and she did not deserve that."

"I heard that story before," Terri commented absentmindedly.

"Yes, unfortunately it is a story that too many men had reproduced over and over through history, sergeant," the man said sighing. "I went on with life after that and didn’t even care when she got married to another man. I was too busy pleasing myself to regret anything."

"And how come you ended up being a priest?" asked Terri already caught in Graubner’s story.

"One of those nights while I played cards in a bar, I got into a fight with someone who was a bad looser. At the end he challenged me and I had to accept the duel."

"A real duel?"

"Yes, sergeant, a real and stupid duel. It was a very fashionable thing in those years, but I almost died because of that," said the priest with serious tone. "Fortunately, the Lord gave me a second chance and I survived. I can tell you that being so close to the other world made me realized all my foolishness better than all my father’s preaching."

"That was what moved you to take the holy orders, then," Terri inquired.

"That is right. It was the most shocking experience I’ve ever lived. I looked at myself as I really was in those moments when I believed I was going to die, and I didn’t like what I saw. Therefore, when I understood my life had not ended, I promised the one who had kept me alive to devote myself to his service. And I had not regretted this decision a single second of this, which I call my second life," ended the man with a smile behind his bearded face.

"Do you really feel happy with your life, Father?" wondered Terri not quite sure about the priest’s statement.

"Why do you doubt it, sergeant?" demanded Graubner.

"You don’t seem to fit quite much with the image of a priest that I have. I hope this doesn’t bother, Father, but that is what I think," Terri remarked bluntly.

The priest burst in laughter at the young man’s comment.

"Well young man," Graubner began to explain still shaken by his chuckles.

"Would you please tell me first what is your image of a priest?"

Then it was Terri’s time to chuckle slightly.

"You see, father," Terri said, "I spent my whole childhood and most of my adolescence in a catholic boarding school."

"Oh really?" Interrupted the priest shocked, "That must have been a dreadful experience then!" the man stated smiling and Terri smiled back amused with the paradox of a priest who had such a bad opinion of a catholic education.

"This is exactly what I mean, Father," Terri continued, "You were not supposed to say that studying in a religious school is dreadful!"

 


"And wasn’t it?" the old man asked lifting his eyebrows.

"Well, actually, yes," Terri admitted, "It was dreadful . . .except for one thing. But I don’t want to talk about that," he mumbled, but then with renewed force he continued. "Yet, you are certainly not like the priests and nuns in that school. I remember that the other day you even refused to confess Lieutenant Harris when he asked you. Isn’t a priest supposed to do it every time a believer requests it?"

"Let me explain this issue to you, sergeant," the man answered, "I don’t believe that this act of confession should take place between to complete strangers. I rather build up a friendship with people and then we can move into more difficult matters."

"I don’t think your superiors regard that position with gladness," Terri pointed out.

"No, they don’t, but I usually don’t pay much attention to them," the priest admitted with a smirk, "that is why I’m here with you, talking in the middle of the night and they are in Vatican City sleeping in their silken sheets"

"You’re a rebel, Father!" Terri smiled.

"Some people say so, sergeant," the man accepted looking at the starry sky.

The days ran slowly, one morning preceding the following one, over the impassive river Seine. The snow had melted surrendering to the spring sun and in the TuileriesGardens the flowers were blooming as if in the North there was neither war, nor distress. In the long avenues of Paris the street vendors sold those little white lilies in the shape of tiny bells with sweet scent that Parisians call "muguets". Following an old spring time tradition, people would present each other with the mugests wrapped in shiny sheets of cellophane paper as a token of friendship. However, the apparent optimism was frail, always clouded by the ghost of war and the threatening of the powerful German offensive. Would the Allies be able to resist the enemy’s thrust and keep it away from the most beautiful city of the world?

 


Every week, the newspapers published a list that a large number people would always look at with anxiety mixed with fear. Lots of feminine eyes would sweep the list with concern and sometimes after the inspection, their mouth would let escape a sigh of relief. Some other times the scene was not so fortunate. Julienne was one more of those women who ran to the newspapers stand every Friday morning to desperately search into the list, always praying inwardly and hoping not to find her husband’s name included in the casualties report.

That April morning, Julienne took the paper with shaking hands and once again she thanked God for not seeing Gerard’s name on the list. Right after she flipped the pages trying to find news about the Allies’ movements. There was not much to say. The British were still resisting in Armentières. The brunette folded the paper and walked back towards the hospital.

 


She slipped through the corridors with absentminded pace until she arrived to Candy and Flammy’s room. The door was half-open and she was tempted to greet her friends.

"Bonjour," she said smiling, "Ça va?"

"Oui, ça va," invited Candy’s singing voice.

Flammy, who was already recovered from her fracture, was on duty by then; so the blonde was alone in her room. Julienne’s eyes were immediately captured by two novelties in the modest bedroom. One was the hugest bouquet of "muguets" she had ever seen, and the other was a large package resting on Candy’s bed.

Candy recognized the sparkle of feminine curiosity on her friend and smiled amused by the situation.

"Those are from Yves," said the blonde with a sigh of resignation pointing to the small flowers that invaded the room with their fragrance.

"And the box is….?" wondered Julienne with twinkling eyes.

"From AMERICA!!" replied Candy with a smile that could have brightened the darkest night. "It comes from Chicago. Wanna see what it has?"

"Bien sure, ma chère amie!" answered Julienne sitting on the bed next to Candy.

The younger woman opened the package with trembling fingers, tearing the brown paper that covered the white rectangular box. Pasted on top of the box was a note written with elegant characters that Candy recognized as Miss Pony’s handwriting. The young girl read aloud the content of the letter so that Julienne could know the news in it.

Our dearest child,

You birthday will arrive soon and sister Lyn and I wanted to present you with something special for your twentieth anniversary. You have given us so many joys since the very first day you entered our humble house that we couldn’t let this occasion go without letting you know that despite the distance our hearts are with you.

Perhaps you’ll find this present a little unusual but Sister Lyn insisted and I have learnt to follow her instincts, which are rarely wrong. Do not worry about our pockets because it was our kind Annie who paid for it, we were only the conspirational minds who came out with the idea.

We hope you enjoy the present and have a wonderful birthday.

With love,

Your two mothers.

Immediately the two women hurried to open the box and both of them gasped in unison, astounded by the sight of two dazzling dresses. One was a rich gown made of emerald green silk with Swiss dark lace and a daring neck line. The other was a pure white day dress in fine organdy and linen with puffed sleeves and a heart shaped neck line.

"Oh dear, they are beautiful," gasped Julienne in total awe, for she was not as used as Candy was to see such elegant clothing. On the contrary, the blonde was puzzled by Sister Lyn’s idea.

"Why would they send me this?" she said still confused.

"To make you happy, of course," answered Julienne delighted with the green dress.

 


"Don’t you see how this one goes with your eyes?"

"But when am I going to have the chance to wear these things here? In the field hospital?" she mocked and both women laughed with the idea.

 


Surprise has always been the best offensive weapon and General Ludendorff knew it well. He decided to attack a point that the Allies had neglected, "Le Chemin des Dammes", a road that goes along the river Aisne between the cities of Soissons and Reims. Even when the American Intelligence Service warned Foch about this possibility, he did not pay attention to such information. When the French and British armies finally realized that the Germans would truly attack "Le Chemin des Dammes" they tried to move the army from its position in the North, but it was obvious that they would not be able to arrive on time.

On May the 27th the Germans attacked fully using a powerful offensive in which 17 divisions in the front and 13 divisions in the rear took part. The objective was to distract the Allies and force them to move their men towards the River Aisne. Then, when the Allies mobilized to the South, the Central Powers would start another offensive in Flanders. With this stratagem, Ludendorff thought that defeating the weakened British Army could be an easy task. However, the offensive on "Le Chemin des Dammes" was so successful that Ludendorff got engulfed with the feeling of victory and changed his plans. He decided to continue the offensive in the same direction instead of moving back towards the North, and so the Germans marched in direction to Paris. In three days the Central Powers had reached the river Marnes, just about 37 miles from the Capital of France.

At this point of the events, the French Army asked The General Commander of the American Expeditionary Force, John J. Pershing, to help them with fresh troops.

 


Therefore, in an almost suicide mission, the American Second and Third Divisions traveled to the South for over 100 miles, moving by train and trucks to resist the German army in the heroic Second Battle of the River Marne.

Captain Duncan Jackson was having lunch when he received the news. After a long year awaiting to enter in action, they finally received orders to mobilize. Nevertheless, Jackson’s instinct told him that this unexpected move was extremely dangerous. He had imagined that the Second Division would be sent to Verdun in order to support the French army, but moving towards the South did not seem quite logical, unless he and his men were being used as a last resource in a desperate attempt to stop the Germans. If that was so, it meant that they were going to be alone. The AEF versus the German eagle and no more. Jackson was a soldier and he had learnt to follow orders, not to discuss them. Thus, he obeyed as he had been taught in West Point, but he knew that it could be a mission that many of his men, perhaps himself, would not be able to survive.

On his own, when father Graubner learnt about the destiny that the Second Division would pursue, he felt again a bad pain in the chest. The man was fearing for his heart, yet something inside told him that he had also a mission to fulfill in the River Marnes and he did not say a word about his problem. Yet, the suspicious Dr. Norton followed the priest’s moves carefully.

For Terrence Granchester the news was neither surprising nor worrying. He had gone to France to find meaning for an existence he found senseless, and if in that quest he had to die he couldn’t care less. Those who believe they don’t have anything to lose often disregard the gift of life. He had thought differently if he had seen how a young woman in Paris trembled when she heard that the American Army had been sent to stop the enemy.

 


"Have you ever been in a battle Father?" asked private Peterson during the trip to Châtau Thierry, the man was only 18 and anxious to see a real battle.

"Yes I have, young man," answered Graubner with a sigh.

"Where exactly?" asked Peterson with shining eyes and visibly interested.

"In Italy, seven years ago, in the war against the Turkish and also in Africa.

Later, I’ve been working in different sectors of the Western Front since this war started," replied the man with not much enthusiasm.

"How was it Father?" wondered young Peterson.

"Why do you inquire about something you are just about to face, Peterson?" asked a third deep voice. "Let your destiny come to you. It will arrive on time for the appointment it has with you, anyway." Finished Terri standing up to stretch his legs walking along the little space they had left in the wagon.

The young man raised his greenish blue eyes towards the sky that could be seen through the train window. It really didn’t matter which season it was. Either winter snowy nights or shining spring mornings like that one, any day, or sound, or smile was enough to inspire his memory to play with him rude games that he always lost. But there are memories too painful to remember and thus we fight them with force. When he was about to admit defeat in his mental struggle a big hand touched his shoulder.

"Thanks for saving me from telling a story that I was not quite willing to offer," said Father Graubner with a smile.

"Not at all, father," answered Terri thankful that the priest had rescued him from the thoughts that betrayed him, "I realized that the things you could tell us are not a proper tale for those who are going to enter in action. We don’t want to scare our young Peterson, do we?"

"You speak as though you were considerably older than him," remarked Graubner.

"Well, I’m not that old, certainly," Terri replied shrugging his shoulders, "I’m twenty one."

"Then, sergeant," inquired the priest, "may I ask you what is clouding your life when your youth should be enough reason to light it up?"

The question had taken Terri by surprise. However, he immediately felt that his so priced privacy had been invaded, so he reacted defensively as he was used to do.

"Each man has his own turmoil regardless the age, but mine are not of your concern, Father," he replied with hardened eyes.

Graubner had been a priest for almost 30 years, thus Terri’s impolite answered was not sufficient to make him desist so easily.

"I’m really sorry to have intruded into personal matters that you obviously keep for yourself, sergeant" the older man apologized, "Nevertheless, if you ever feel the need to talk about it, you can trust in me," the man ended leaving Terri alone with his thoughts.

The well known fable writer Jean de la Fontaine was born in Château-Thierry, a small town near the rivers Marnes and Seine and not far away from Paris. In that area, in the heart of the Champagne region, surrounded by a famous castle of the XII century and an ancient forests, the American army found its destiny.

The Second Division arrived in Château-Thierry by midnight on May the 31st. As soon as the men left the train they did not know a moment of rest. It was then when Terri thanked God for the long time they had spent training. If he had not had that chance before, he wouldn’t have been able to cope with the frenetic building of barricades and digging of trenches along the road from Château- Thierry to Paris, which he and his companions had to face. With an amazing efficiency the scene was already settled by June the 2nd.

The Germans had been attacking another sector in order to cross the River Marnes but the Third Division stopped them repeatedly during the 1st, 2nd, and 3rd of June. As they could not succeed in their attempt, Ludendorff decided to move towards the West of Château-Thierry. The Germans did not know that the Second Division was waiting for them.

The evening of June the 3rd was long and distressful. As a bad sign, young private Peterson got unexpectedly ill. A sudden pain in the abdomen followed by vomit and fever attacked him fiercely. Doctor Norton diagnosed peritonitis and even when the physician tried to do his best to help the young man, Peterson died in Father Graubner’s arms before the sunset.

 


"This is something I still don’t understand," mumbled Graubner sitting down next to Terri in the reserve trench after Peterson’s quick burial.

"Neither do I, Father," responded Terri with husky voice, "This kid was so full of life and enthusiasm. Remember how anxious he was to see a battle? He was also looking forward a chance to see Paris. He did not get any of those wishes."

"Yes, sergeant, life does not seem fair to our eyes very often," the old man remarked, "Young and good people in love with life die while . . ."

"Those who would deserve to die keep on living," Terri finished the sentence with bitter tones.

Graubner looked at the young man with amazement. He hesitated for a second, not knowing whether he should ask again or leave this new occasion go. At last, he decided to talk.

"What is it, sergeant, that makes you think that you deserve to die," he wondered.

If Terri had not been shocked by Peterson’s death, tired by two days of digging and naturally afraid by the eminent danger he was about to encounter, he surely had answered rudely once more. But keeping the own secrets did not seem necessary then, when he would probably die the following morning. The young man raised his arms to settle his hands behind the back of his neck and with low voice he answered simply:

"Oh, Father, this is all about a woman."

"Go on son, I don’t have anything to do but listen to you," said the priest and with attentive ear he heard Terri’s story in detail. With Terri’s descriptive narration Graubner met the various characters and events in the young man’s life. He identified the abandoned mother, the manipulated by his own ambition father, the lonely child who grew into a rebel teenager, the unforgettable love, the twist of destiny, the guilt, the intrigue, the fatality and the last encounter. During the couple of hours that the story lasted, Graubner understood the reasons that made the young man in front of him such a gloomy fellow, but he also could see a better and clearer panorama that Terri was not able to perceive.

When Terri had finished his own tale, he lowered his head in the darkness of the trench resting his elbows on each one of his legs.

"Now, Father," asked the young man, "don’t you think that I just screwed up my whole life with my own hands?"

Graubner scratched his nape and raised his left eyebrow looking for a proper answer for such a question.

"Well, sergeant," he began, "I think that you made a few mistakes, yes, but from that to ruin the whole thing there is a big difference!" he stated in front of an amazed Terrence.

"Be honest Father! I know I am a real disgrace!" exclaimed the man vehemently.

"Are you interested in my opinion or do you just want me to repeat what you think?" asked the priest firmly.

"I. . . I’d like to know what you think," admitted the young man.

"Then you will have to hear me for a while and I hope that you don’t interrupt me whilst I speak, son," replied the man with unusual seriousness in his tone. Terri just nodded in acceptance.

"First of all," started the older man, "I must tell you that the decision you made offering marriage to a woman you did not love was certainly a big mistake. Marriage is a sacred state and only love should lead people into it. No sacrifice that young lady could have made for you justifies your resolution that almost made you enter in marriage in such a disrespectful way, this is, contradicting its basic principles. I know that I may sound hard and perhaps not quite close to what other of my colleagues could tell you, but I honestly think those ideas of the so called "duty" and "honor" you followed are just part of the ideological garbage we inherited from the last century. I hope we can someday get rid off them and develop a better kind of morality, based on compassion, love and mutual understanding.

"I have never been married, but I have worked for an even more demanding master than marriage itself, for almost 30 years. And my pride has struggled immensely during all that time. Nevertheless, I’ve taken all this pain gladly because I love my Master and He loves me in return with a greater love. Marriage is a similar thing. Would you have been able to honor your wife, surrender your selfishness and conquer your demons for that woman you did not love? A real marriage is not a theatrical mask you can wear for a while to leave it aside after the show! A marriage is a state of life. There was no way you two could have succeeded in that task, especially when your mind was trying to forget what your heart was reluctant to give up.

"However, I cannot set all the blame on you. It is clear that your fiancée and her mother had their share of guilt. The suffering in which your fiancée lived was just the result of her own mistakes. I am glad that at least, she recognized her error at the end, for the sake of her soul. On the other hand, in this story, I’m afraid your former girlfriend ended up as the direct victim of the situation.

"Now, son I hope that you understand that making mistakes is a human sign. We all make them and it is too arrogant to believe that we can be excluded of such a pain. We make decisions, some of them work, others don’t. We enjoy the benefits of our successful decisions and suffer the consequences of our mistaken ones. But even when those consequences hurt we have to move forward, we have to make headway and forgive ourselves for those errors that we left behind. Yes! We are supposed to remember the lessons and grow up through them, but God did not create men to spend a whole life in bitter regrets.

"Don’t you think you have been haughty enough judging yourself so harshly? The God in which I believe forgave every single one of your sins before you were born, son, how dare you not to forgive yourself?! That is the worst heresy of all! Move on, move on and conquer the rest of your life with courage. Like a man!

"Moreover, as I see things life is giving you a precious opportunity and you are so stupid – forgive me for my honesty – that you don’t realize it!"

"I wish I could see it the way you do, father. To me everything is lost!" insisted Terri, still overwhelmed by the priest’s discourse.

"That is because you don’t open your eyes!" said the older man vehemently, "This woman you love is neither married nor engaged. What else are you waiting for, kid, for Christ’s sake?!"

"But . . ." mumbled Terri.

"No ‘buts’ sergeant," replied Graubner, "you are not going to tell me that you wouldn’t dare to fight against a thousand doctors to get your lady, when your are willing to face the Germans tomorrow morning."

"Do you honestly think…"

"My son, in war and love. . ." Graubner’s words were suddenly interrupted by a cry in the darkness:

"THEY ARE HERE!!!! THE ENEMY IS HERE!!! EVERYBODY IN POSITION!!!" a private ran through the reserve trench spreading the order.

Both men stood up and looked at each other knowing that the moment had come. Terri extended his hand and Graubner held it tightly.

"Father, thanks for your understanding," said the young man huskily, "It’s a pity that I didn’t meet you before," He stated with sad tone and after a brief paused he added, "Now I must attend a previously arranged appointment in the fire trench," he concluded and, loosing Graubner’s hand, he walked away.

"TERRENCE!" shouted the priest using the young man’s surname for the first time, before his figure disappeared in the obscure communication trench.

Grandchester stopped and turned his head slowly to see Graubner in the distance.

"Fight to stop this insanity and die if necessary because you are convinced of this cause, but do not search death to flee from the battle of life. Remember this: there’s always hope while we are alive."

Terri nodded and saluted the priest taking his right hand to his temples. Right after, without saying any other word, the young man turned his back and disappeared in the darkness running along many other men.

The morning of June the 2nd a new medical team was appointed to work in the field hospital and Flammy Hamilton was designated to take part in the mission. Candy looked and looked again at the list, trying to find her own name but she had not been included. The group had been assigned to Château- Thierry and Candy knew that the American Army was already fighting there since the day before. Not able to think clearly the young woman rushed through the Hospital corridors, in direction of the Director’s office.

"I want to see Major Vouillard," she said gruffly to the secretary in the reception desk.

"Excusez-moi mademoiselle, Ms. Le Directeur ne peux pas la voir maintenant(Excuse me miss, the Director cannot see you right now)," said the man in sergeant uniform.

"I said I would see him, and that I will do!" she answered moving fast towards the door and getting into the office before the sergeant could stop her.

Vouillard was reading some papers when he was abruptly interrupted by the blonde’s inopportune entrance. The man immediately recognized Candy through his spectacles.

"I’m sorry to interrupt you, sir," apologized Candy with a nod, "but I needed to talk to you about an important matter."

Vouillard made a sign with the hand to his worried assistant who had followed Candy to the office and was trying to begin an explanation, but it was cut by Major Vouillard’s movement. The man understood and simply left Vouillard alone with the young woman.

"Go ahead Miss Audrey," said the man leaving the papers he had in his hands aside. "And have a seat too." He offered.

"I’m fine this way, sir," replied the young woman, "I’m here because I saw that a new medical team will be sent to Château-Thierry this afternoon and even when I was not included I wan to volunteer, sir…"

"The team is complete," interrupted Vouillard with direct tone, "You are a valuable surgical nurse and with the battle field so close to us we will need qualified hands here, as much as in the field hospital."

"But, sir," she insisted carried by a strong need rooted in her heart depths, "I think I would be a better help there."

"Miss Audrey," said Vouillard dryly, " I think I have already explained to you the reasons we have to keep you here. Now if you don’t have anything else to say I would appreciate if you left to continue with your duties and let me finish mine."

Candy lowered her head but still her internal force gave her courage for a last try.

"Sir, I must insist I should be appointed to …"

"MISS AUDREY!" shouted the man visibly annoyed this time, "This is the army and we follow our superior’s commands, we never discuss them. I have my orders and so do you. You are dismissed!" he ended.

Candy gasped but seeing that there was no use for a third try, she went out of the room silently. When she had left Vouillard lifted his eyes and sighed in relief.

"I’m not going to be demoted just because I did not know how to take care of this little American girl who seems to be so important for General Foch," he thought, "Oh Mr. Audrey! If I had a daughter like yours I wouldn’t know whether to feel proud or shake in fear."

 


It was June the 4th. The Germans’ shelling did not last long, they were desperate to continue their way to Paris, so a combat hand to hand was inevitable. Navy, Air Force, Artillery, they are always the military weapons that open the way for a conquest, but it is only through Infantry that the terrain can be claimed.

There is not an experience that can be compared to the horror and indignity of men killing each other for no reason but our incapability to solve our problems in a more rational way. There is nothing that can compete with the cannon’s roar tearing apart the morning quietness, the heat of the open fire by thousands of machine guns invading the spring air, the devouring flames of each explosion that consume mercilessly the frail skin of men, the murdering impact of bullets penetrating into the flesh of those who are beloved fathers, husbands, lovers and sons. No human mind could stand that apocalyptic view without being moved to the very bones.

But for Terrence Grandchester the worst of all that real life nightmare was the realization of the killing power of his own hands. The very same hands that could create, and work honestly, and help. . . and caress the soft cheek of a sleeping girl. . .could also be the criminal holder of a machine gun that destroyed men like him, in front of his eyes, as his face could feel how the warm blood of the enemy stained his face and uniform. There is not a way a man can be prepared for such a tragedy.

In the midst of the combat, while he automatically followed his instincts, his mind fought another battle trying to find sense in "that insanity", as Father Graubner had last called it. He had enrolled to do something useful with his life but in that moment, for a few brief seconds, he wondered where was the use of such aberration. He struggled for some time, but later, as though a sudden ray of understanding had erupted in his head, he found a reason to stand in the fight: the woman he loved was just 37 miles away from that spot of the world and there was no way that he would allow anyone to put her precious life in risk. It was in that way that he reached the bottom of the primitive essence of war. Perhaps it was a very questionable justification, but for him it was enough to stay alive and hit back.

The battle went on for hours that Terri could not count. The Germans were fighting fiercely but at times they seemed tired. However, the artillery was also causing problems in certain sectors. From Jackson’s position, entrenched behind a huge tree, at the edge of the road, the man could see that a group of Germans had succeeded to bring a couple of cannons and place them in an abandoned house. The shelling of those cannons were causing problems and didn’t let them move forward.

"I need a small group of volunteers that reach the spot and kill those bastards with that damn cannon before they kill us all," he demanded.

 


"Count on me," said private Newman, a man in his thirties.

"And on me," replied Terri.

Soon, other three man also volunteered. Jackson explained his orders to the five of his men.

"Two of us are going to open fire from the forest, but always moving through the trees so that they don’t really know where we are. Meanwhile the other four will go round the left flank and try to approach the ruins, close enough to fry them up with grenades. Am I clear?" he asked.

 


"Crystal clear, Sir," said Newman. The rest of the men only nodded.

 


Jackson and a corporal stayed in the forest and began the fire whilst Grandchester, Newman, private Carson and corporal Lewis tried to run almost playing hide and seek behind every thing they could find to cover themselves from the fire. The idea was quite risky, they all knew it could be the last thing they did in their whole life, but they could also die later if they did not stop the cannons.

"Do you think we’ll make it Newman?" asked Carson gasping.

"I don’t know about you my friend," answered the man with a mocking smile, "but I have three children and a wife, back home. I have to live for them."

The four men moved slowly but constantly. They jumped from the shelter of a rock to a tree and then to another rock. It seemed that the noise Jackson and the other man were making was distracting the Germans.

Though, they had to hurry up because soon or later the cannons could finally reach the two men in the forest. They continued moving when one of the Germans spotted Lewis’ clumsy movement and riddled him with bullets. The other three men succeeded to hide in time. Unfortunately, the German soldier was already suspicious and kept an eye on the horizon. Terri made a sign to his men. They couldn’t get any closer, so it was time to start throwing the grenades. The first one to try it was Carson because he was closer. The young man was practically shaking as jelly and when it came his turn to prepare the grenade his movements were too slow, while the same German soldier was faster and killed him before he could realize what was happening.

Only Grandchester and Newman remained alive. One single soldier had killed two of them while the other Germans were engaged in operating the cannons. There was too much noise all around. Before any movement could be made, they had to get rid off that soldier. Then again Terri indicated with his eyes what Newman easily understood. Newman approached Terri to receive his orders.

"One of us has to distract him," whispered Terri. "The other must be fast enough to shoot that bloody son of a bitch before he can move. With all this noise around the others might not even notice it."

"I’ll be the one to run, Sir," suggested Newman.

"No, you are a better shooter than I am," Terri objected, "plus, I don’t have a wife and three children."

Newman just smiled and saluted his superior as he began to move.

With a quick rush Terri made himself visible and the German soldier charged against him. One, two, three, four, five times, but before he could do any apparent harm Newman’s fast gun found its target in the young German’s forehead.

"That was for you, Carson," whispered the man.

On this occasion they did not lose time using the grenades they had and throwing them with force towards the improvised German barricade. The explosion was effective and soon a big column of fire consumed the ruins and the men in there.

Newman and Grandchester sat down for a while watching the flames and the fading cries of the men that were dying inside the house.

"I wouldn’t like that any of my children ever see or hear a scene like this," said Newman rubbing his blackened forehead with the left hand.

Terri just nodded in silence. The cries coming from the house drilled in his ears and pierced his soul. Had those men been happy? What would happen to their families now that they had died? For a second he told himself that, under such conditions of danger, it was better not to have a family to worry about. If he had to die, he could do it freely, and he even thought that at the end of everything, his life had not been a total failure, after all. Suddenly he surprised his mind as he wandered through the golden corners of his memory.

The two men joined their platoon and continued their advancement under the Germans machine guns. Despite the generalized uproar, the dreadful view of mutilated men, or the constant need to keep on killing, the desperate pounding of Terri’s heart seemed to reduce its pace plunging the young man in an paradoxical quietness, an unusual state of peace.

"No, not everything was so bad," he thought, "I have wonderful memories to cherish."

Once again his opponent’s blood stained his lips but he did not feel it because far away voices were filling the air with the shadows of the past in disorganized sequence:

"So many freckles!"

"I’m very sorry! But the truth is I like my freckles so much that I’m thinking of how to get more of them!"

"Will you defend your little nose too?"

"Of course!!"

"I can’t attend the May Festival because of that"

"Is that so? So you won’t be able to attend?!"

"I think it would be fun, there will be lots of flowers, dancing, candy…"

"Not to mention big cakes!"

"Why do you look at me that way? Do you like me freckles? Come, let’s go over there where there’s no one around!"

"Who wants to go with you?!"

"Ummm…you have to pay me for that one Candy…put your lips right here."

"But you have to close your eyes!"

"Hey, you tricked me, freckles! You are such a big cheater!. . . But now is pay back time!"

"Terri!"

"Terri! You’re injured, and you’re full of blood!"

"I taught them a lesson, huh? . . . What a bunch of losers!"

"You’ve been drinking Terri!"

"Do you smell that?"

"I'm sorry, I want to rest for a while...that man mistook this as the boy's dormitory...I'm sorry for causing you trouble..."

"Don't talk anymore or your wounds..."

"How are you? I mean, how have you been all this time, Candy?"

"I’ve been fine, Terri, really fine."

"Amazingly beautiful,"

"Yes, it is really beautiful"

"Well, that was a mistake, obviously, because I’ve never been engaged…"

"I really, hope that this war…can end soon, and that you…you…can go back home…with …your wife, Suzanna"

"My wife Suzanna? Candy, I never married Suzanna, she died a year ago!"

"She died!"

"Even a blind man could see the difference! You asked me what I am doing here, well, I’ll explain it to you as if you were a five-year old, since you seem not to understand it quite well. I am here because I AM A NURSE, I received training to serve as a surgery assistant. I am here in an attempt to repair what those weapons from hell do to men. I am here to save lives, whereas you are here just to kill and I do not see any honor in that!"

"Terry! You’re injured, and you’re full of blood!"

"Blood."

"I'm sorry, I want to rest for a while...that man mistook this as the boy's dormitory...I'm sorry for causing you trouble..."

"Don't talk anymore or your wounds..."

"Your wounds. . . ."

"Your blood!"

Terri began to feel how his body was loosing control while lieutenant Harris, who was next to him, looked at the young man with startled eyes.


"Grandchester! You’re bleeding seriously!"

Then, everything turned even more confusing. The sound of the machine guns each time less frequent as the Germans began to retreat, the yelling of the American soldiers congratulating each other for the imminent victory after two days of steady fight, Captain Jackson’s voice by his side, and the sky moving fast while he was taken on a stretcher towards the reserve trench.

"Yes, I have had a good life, after all," he continued in his thoughts, "I was once touched by an angel with the scent or roses and wild strawberries, with eyes that defeat the emeralds, with lips that taste like heaven and I even stole from them the very first kiss. Once I had a song to play in my heart, and it was a sweet tone, so dulcet and warm. A song for her, always for her. Once I went to war and helped to keep my angel safe. Yes, it was a good life, after all."

Graubner got close to the stretcher and took Terri’s hand in his, saying a quiet prayer.

"Um Himmels Willen! ( By heaven’s sake!, in German)," he mumbled, "look what this stupid war did to this kid!" the man said in indignation.

"Oh father!" exclaimed Newman who was next to Graubner, "I was with him when he was shot, but I didn’t realize it. He must have covered his wounds with the machine gun, the stupid man! He kept fighting for hours after that! I should have noticed that the German soldier really got to shoot him while the sergeant was trying to distract his attention," the man regretted.

 


"Do not blame yourself, son," responded Graubner, "These things happen in combat. He might not even have noticed that he had been wounded."

"When is that doctor coming?" asked Newman desperate.

"It takes time, my friend, there are too many wounded men, and just a few doctors and nurses." Commented Graubner in resignation, " But, look! It seems that he is awakening!"

"Father Graubner?" asked Terri with weak voice.


"Yes, Terrence," he said warmly, "Don’t talk too much, you’ll be fine son, but you need to keep quite now," he reassured.


"Father," Terri whispered, "You were right. Things…things are not that bad . . . I . . ."


"Don’t strain yourself, Terrence," said the priest.

"It’s a pity that…" the young man continued, " I didn’t realize all this before. But, life was good anyway . . . there was a song in my heart," he last said before his eyes closed.

There was a heavy pressure over her chest. She could barely breath. There was music in the background, like a sad melody that made her feel a strange mixture of anxiety and fear. She needed to cry, but she couldn’t. She needed to scream but it was impossible. She thought that the sudden pain in her heart could not grow more distressful than it already was. It hurt deeply and she could not yell.

Then, she felt a shadow surrounding her. She was afraid and ran desperately for her life, but before she could flee away a cold hand reached her wrist and finally she screamed.

"AAAAAHHH!!!" Candy yelled awakening from her nightmare. Her cheeks were covered with tears and her heart ached as never before. She was alone in the room for Flammy had gone to the front. Then, her sobs erupted from her throat.

"Terri, Terri, Terri!" she cried bitterly, "On my God, my God! What has happened to him?!"

The young woman sat on the bed burying her face on her knees while her arms hugged her legs with a nervous grip. She cried and cried without even knowing why she was feeling that way as the music in her nightmare kept playing in her ears in the midnight solitude.

The Indian Serenade.

​

I arise from dreams of thee

​

In the first sweet sleep of night.

​

When the winds are breathing low,

​

And the starts are shining bright;

​

I arise from dreams of thee,

​

And a spirit in my feet

​

Hath led me-who knows how?

​

To thy chamber window, Sweet!

​

The wandering airs they faint

​

On the dark, the silent stream-

​

The Champak odours fail

​

Like sweet thoughts in a dream;

​

The nightingale’s complaint,

​

It dies upon her heart;-

​

As I must on thine,

​

Oh, beloved as thou art!

​

Oh lift me from the grass!

​

I die! I faint! I fail!

​

Let thy love in kisses rain

​

On my lips and eyelids pale.

​

My cheek is cold and white, alas!

​

My heart beats loud and fast;-

​

Oh! Press it to thine own again,

​

Where it will break at last.

​

Percy Bysshe Shelley.

​

 

[domniki]

CHAPTER TEN

​

​

​

​

This fortuitous twist of destiny.

​

​

​

​

It had been a hectic day for Flammy Hamilton but she was already used to the hard work in the field hospital. Thousands of wounded men had received attention during the two days the battle had lasted; however, even more of them were still waiting their turn to receive medical care, struggling for their lives. Flammy was exhausted but she had one last task to accomplish before her turn ended: she had to paste labels on 150 patients that were on a list of urgent and delicate cases. As soon as the train arrived these men were going to be sent to different hospitals in Château-Thierry and Paris.

The brunette took the box with the tags and a notebook with a list of every patient that would be sent that same afternoon. It was a routine work, but Flammy was conscious of the importance of that simple task. Any mistake could have mortal consequences if the patient was sent to the wrong hospital.

The woman began her job with her usual efficiency. She would not see directly to the menʼs faces. She would only have a quick look over the name on the tag and the details on the medical report. In such situations a nurse could not give herself the luxury of being too personal with the patients or she wouldnʼt be able to resist the experience . . . Well, perhaps only one nurse she knew well was able to cope with the emotional tiredness of getting so involved with her patients when they were dying every single second, but Flammy was not that kind of medical hero, and she just preferred to stay in the safety of her impersonal treat.

Despite her strict principles, she could not avoid that twist of the heart from time to time, when she approached a patient and realized that the case was hopeless. Very rarely she would raise her eyes and look at the face.

She was next to a patient with three gun shots. It did not take her long to notice that the man would probably not survive. One of the bullets had penetrated through the ribs and might have been moving towards the heart! She had seen many times how these sort of cases did not reach the hospital on time. The patient would just die in the way. It was then when she lifted her sight and saw the man. Flammy Hamilton did never forget a face and even when the man was transfigured by the dust, mud and blood on his body, she immediately recognized the man.

"My goodness," she thought, "My poor Candy! How life is cruel with you!"

Flammy observed the name of the hospital where the patient had been assigned.

"Terrence G. Grandchester, Hôpital Saint Honoré." Said the tag.

Flammy was the most efficient nurse in the world. She knew how to do her job and she never questioned the judgment of her superiors, but that very day, against all her dearest principles Flammy Hamilton did something she would have never thought she could do: she changed the tag and wrote on it: " Hôpital Saint Jacques."

" He might not deserve this opportunity," Flammy thought, "Yet, Iʼm sure Candy does."

And she continued doing her work with calculated speed.

"I still have 76 more patients to label," she told herself.

​

If Flammy was working hard and steadily in the field hospital, Candy was not less busy than that just because she was in Paris. They were receiving new patients every hour and the surgery rooms were not enough to cope with the number of operations that had to be performed one after the other. Candy had been assisting in surgery for about five hours so far and it was just the beginning of a long shift of 12 hours, maybe more.

"Candy, there is a new patient next door," ordered Yves with his gray eyes irritated by the weariness of the hard work he was doing, "Three bullets, one near the right lung, the second one near the heart and the third one on the right leg. I need you to clean him up and prepare him for surgery immediately. We might lose him if we donʼt get those bullets out soon."

"Right," the young woman answered with plain voice and immediately turned her back heading to the place where the patient was lying. Since the morning Candy had been acting as though she were in another world, her movements were automatic, her smile faded, her eyes were overshadowed, but everybody was so busy that her unusual mood was not noticed in the frenzy turmoil of the day.

The young woman could not get rid of the dreadful sensation that the nightmare had left on her the night before. It was a sort of unspeakable emptiness, a quiet horror inside her soul and yet she knew her duty could not wait until she felt better, so she kept on working as always as she struggled to control her unexplainable fears.

Candy entered the room where an unconscious body was waiting for her. She took a tray with water and soap in one hand and a couple of scissors on the other and set then on a table near the bed, then, she turned her face and understood in one single fraction of second the reason of her nightmare.

What happened in Candyʼs heart in that brief moment was beyond her wildest fears. She had been working as a war nurse for a year and in that time she had stood with stoicism the most bloody views of mutilated and burnt bodies, but despite the horror she had witnessed her legs had never shaken, her hands had not faltered, not even once. However, when Candy recognized that the unconscious man with a bleeding torso was Terrence Grandchester she believed that the whole world had come to its very end.

Candy believed that she was going to faint as an internal voice told her: "This cannot be true!!" She took her hand to her mouth and felt how her tears began to role over her cheeks, inside her, the poignant pain pierced her heart with stronger force.

"I cannot do this!" she told herself stepping back and leaving the scissors on the table, but before she could do any other move a husky female voice rang in her memory:

"Forget that you are a woman ! Now you are a nurse! Remember that silly one!" said Mary Janeʼs voice in Candyʼs memory, "There is a job to be done! Do not make me feel that I just wasted my time in teaching you! Now get those scissors and prepare the man for the surgery!"

As if the old lady had really been behind her, Candy nodded in silence and with amazingly firm hands, she took the scissors and began to cut the young manʼs uniform. She shed quiet tears as her fingers took away the pieces of clothe uncovering the wounds on the firm young manʼs torso. She undressed the man with quick moves and when he was already naked she continued her silent task washing away the dirt and dried blood on his skin that was already burning with fever. If Terri had not been unconscious and badly wounded the situation would have been extremely embarrassing for the young woman, but Candy had seen too many men dying in surgery for wounds less impressive than the ones Terri had, so her heart did not leave room for any other feeling beyond an immense fear. As Mary Janeʼs voice had ordered her, in that moment she stopped being a woman, to be reduced to a nurse with one desperate objective: saving a life.

"Please Lord, Please!" she prayed while she continued preparing her precious patient, "Do not take him away! Not him, please! I donʼt care If I die of loneliness, I doesnʼt matter if I have to spend my whole life away from him. I wonʼt complain if he loves someone else, I promise I wonʼt think of myself, but I only want him alive and well. If he is alive it is enough for m,." she thought and her emerald eyes trembled behind the tears.

Candy covered Terriʼs body just leaving exposed the area where Yves would operate and then she wiped away her tears with a deep sigh.

"I have a job to do," she repeated to herself as she prepared the instruments.

​

The surgery was long and dramatic. From time to time Yves felt that the patient would not make it because of the great amount of blood he had lost, but despite his own pessimism the young doctor kept fighting for the manʼs life not knowing that he was saving the life of his rival. The first bullet had pierced through the young manʼs shoulder and reached just above the right lung. Fortunately, the organ was intact and, even when the muscle was damaged and it took a good while to take the bullet out, Yves thought that there were good probabilities for the patient to recover from the wound after a long period of convalescence.

However, the second bullet had penetrated through the left rib and was too close to the heart. When Yves realized that he had to search for the bullet in such a delicate area he felt his legs shaking but a soft hand on his shoulder reassured him with unexpected force.

"You can do this!" Candy whispered, "We have to get that bullet out or heʼll be gone by the morning!"

Yves nodded at her and plunged his fingers on the patientʼs chest once more. This time his instrument found the iron object and took it out as the two nurses with him sighed in relief.

The third wound was the least problematic of all, the bullet had just rubbed the right leg and after a few stitches the problem was solved.

Once the bullets were on a metal tray, the young doctor hurried to clean the area and close the wound with fast stitches. Notwithstanding the great success of the surgery it did not guarantee the patientʼs life. Only if he survived the fever that would surely attack him during the following hours the young doctor could venture a positive diagnose. There was also the problem of further infections and the heart pulse was a little irregular. In other words the case was still too delicate.

"Candy" Yves called the young nurse when he was already leaving the surgery room, "Iʼd like you to take care of him tonight and until he wakes up from the effects of the anesthetic. Do you think you can do it? I mean, I know you are very tired and all but I believe he might reach a crisis during the night and Iʼd rather have someone watching over him."

"Donʼt worry Yves," she said softly, "Iʼll take good care of him," she concluded with her first true smile of the day. Had Yves known the real meaning of the young womanʼs words he might have regretted his petition.

Candy noted down Yvesʼs prescription and secretly thanked God for giving her the chance to be by Terriʼs side in such a moment. While the young woman was still writing on her folder, Yves stopped to see the patientʼs face and for a moment something inside him told him that he had seen the man before, yet he did not remember where. Not able to say precisely where he had met the patient he just went out of the room without saying more, leaving Candy alone with a sleeping Terri.

​

Candy sat on a chair next to Terriʼs bed. The night shadows covered the silent ward and only the shy moon beams filtering through the windows glasses broke the complete darkness of the place. The young man was sleeping quietly and his breathing seemed to be quite regular. Candy observed how the silvered moonlight drew his delicate profile and for the first time in the evening her heart jumped inside her, as the cold hearted nurse she had been in the surgery room finally gave in becoming again the woman in love she truly was.

Nevertheless, Candy understood that Terriʼs handsome looks, as alluring as they were, were not the real cause of her undying disquiet. She had always been surrounded by attractive men but among all of them, only that arrogant young man who was fighting for his life in that hospital bed, had stood out and stole her heart with his particular noble and rebellious heart, and his hidden sweetness. For Candy knew well that despite his insolent façade Terri could be amazingly tender and caring when he felt safe enough to display his true feelings.

"He is always so afraid to be hurt," she thought while her hand reached his which laid motionless over the white sheet. "Please Terri, fight for your life, you still have so much to give. I have always imagine such a brilliant future for you. Please, Terri live to conquer it!"

she whispered closing her eyes while a solitary tear rolled over her cheek.

She had given up her dreams of sharing with him such a future long time before, and even when she knew that the reasons which had separated them before did not longer exist, Candy believed that those dreams would never have a chance to be reborn. There in the dormant ward, while her fingers caressed slowly the young manʼs large hand, she thought that she did not know much about that grown-up Terri who was sleeping next to her. What plans did he have? Was there any woman in his thoughts? Was he in love with some lucky girl whose name she ignored?

Candy thought that all those things didnʼt really matter, because she knew that inside her, he would always be her Terri and the only thing she really cared about in that moment was that he survived the night in order to go on with his life. If she was not meant to be part of that life, it was irrelevant to her most important priority, which was the young manʼs happiness.

The watch in Candyʼs pocket rang its tiny bells and the young woman knew that it was time for taking the temperature and giving the patient another injection. It was just the beginning of a long night.

The fever began after midnight. Candy raised her eyes from the book she had in her hands when her attentive ears heard how her dearest patient began to slowly move in his sleep. She immediately brought a tray with cold water and a cloth to put on his forehead. In those days when penicillin did not exist, the infections that provoke high fever could not be controlled easily. What the medical science could do in those cases was to reduce the fever with analgesics, mostly any of the variations of aspirin and perhaps use quinine for certain infections and diseases, such as malaria. Besides that, there was nothing that could be done.

Candy started to feel desperate when the fever did not seem to reduce after two hours, on the contrary, it was higher and Terri began to sweat profusely. She used ice instead of water and sat down by his side praying inwardly. It was then, when she heard that the young manʼs voice tried weakly to call a name.

" The fever is making him delirious," she thought. "What is he trying to say?"

The girl approached her ear to Terriʼs and her heart exploded in a million lights when she understood that he was calling her name. The tears filled her eyes immediately, not knowing whether she should feel sad or happy. She just managed to hold his hand tightly and whisper in the young manʼs ear the most tender words that her lips could utter.

"Terri, Terri," she murmured, "Itʼs me, Candy. Donʼt be afraid my sweetest one, Iʼm with you. Please, please, fight this fever! Fight for your life! I donʼt know what I would do if something happened to you. I have lost too many beloved people. Please, do not make me go through that horror again!" she continued while seizing his hand and caressing his forehead with an ice cube.

In that way she remained for a long time, always talking to him softly in the darkness of the room, until his dream became serene and quiet. Little by little the fever reduced its heat and Candy took away the ice bag. With her most tender care she removed the wet clothes and wiped his body carefully. The first rays of dawn were beginning to tear the evening black cape when Candy sat again on her chair, and before plunging her eyes into the book she had left on the nearby table, she eyed the sleeping young man once more.

"Youʼll be fine . . . my love" she thought and continued her reading.

​

He could feel that essence of roses filling the air he breathed. It was a sweet fragrance invading his nostrils with intoxicating accent. He knew that perfume well, he had first drank from it long time ago, in those days when life was brighter and carefree.

"This dream is certainly the best I have had in years," he thought, "It is as if she really were by my side. Please, I donʼt want to wake up."

Therefore he resisted to open his eyes until the soft noise of metal clinking with metal forced him to do so. He didnʼt know that the dream was about to start the moment his eyes saw the light again. Near him, a tiny figure in a white dress was standing with her back to him. A small porcelain hand was taking a diminutive crystal bottle and filling a hypodermic needle. It was a woman.

He was still under the effect of very strong pain killers and his senses were a little bit dumb. However, he would have recognized the line of that back and the soft curve of those hips even in the thickest fog. Moreover, the perfume that had originally woken him up had not disappeared with his dream. It was her!

The young woman turned around holding the needle with both hands. Her deep emerald eyes focused on the instrument for a while and later she descended her green irises until they met with two blue eyes that were looking at her with immense surprise.

"Terri!" she gasped overwhelmed by an intense emotion, "Youʼre awaken!"

Candy kneeled next to the bed regaling Terry with a bright and particular smile she only wore for him. Her hand searched for his instinctively and it took her all of her self control to stop from hugging him within her arms.

"Terri!" she repeated holding back the tears.

"Is it really you?" he asked huskily, still not quite convinced that he was not in a dream.

"Of course it is me!" she giggled, "Donʼt you see my freckles?" she joked.

"So many freckles!" he joked back smiling with all his might. Then, he tried to sit up but an acute pain on his chest made him desist immediately.

"No, donʼt you do that!" she hurried to say holding him softly by the shoulders, "You just had a triple surgery last night. You are not supposed to leave this bed for a while."

The young man felt that the skin of his shoulder burned under Candyʼs touch, but the sensation of it was so incredibly pleasant that he instantly put one of his hands on hers, sending back the same waves of warmth towards the girl. Candy immediately jerked back, too shocked by the feeling.

"Please Terri," she said trying to appease the uproar that he had awaken in her heart, "Promise me you will cooperate with us in your recovery."

"Am I that bad?" the young man asked intrigued.

"You had three bullets," she replied with her most professional tone, despite the violent pounding of her heart, "You were really lucky that none of them reached any vital organ, but the wounds are profound and it will take a good time before you can move and do your things all by yourself. Now, let me give you this injection. Is that right?" she ended taking the needle she had left on the table, over a metal tray.

Candy needed all of her concentration to take the young manʼs arm and inject him with steady pulse, even when her legs were trembling, not knowing whether to run away or stay.

He, on his own, was totally dizzy by the overwhelming truth of being by her side and feel her hands on him. He still could not believe his luck even when he was looking at his angel just right there. Terri was already used to face the unfortunate turnabouts of destiny, but this lucky coincidence that had brought him near Candy was such a happy twist of fate that he could not believe it was actually happening to him.

"I must have died and this is heaven," he thought for a second, but then, a fast needle made him realize that he was still counted among the number of the mortals. "I think Iʼm alive after all," he told himself, "and then . . . this is the chance of my life" was his last thought before the strong analgesic made him fall asleep once more.

​

Candy waited until Yves arrived, so that she could inform him personally about the patientʼs reaction, and she would have continued by Terriʼs side if the doctor had not insisted vehemently in her taking a rest. The young woman left the ward with reluctant pace, but with each step she gave towards her room she felt that her feet didnʼt touch the floor any longer. When she arrived at her place she threw herself on the narrow bed and after giving the deepest sigh, her tears began to roll freely showering over her face, leaving a refreshing sensation on her skin. Those were not tears of despair or anguish, that time her heart did not have room but for two pleasant feelings: one was an immense gratitude towards heaven for having preserved Terrenceʼs life and the other was a delicious restlessness that had seized her heart since the moment her patient laid his hand on hers.

The girl took her hand to her damp cheek and closing her eyes she smiled dreamingly as she hadnʼt done it for over three years. She had almost forgotten how it felt that sweet warmth that was born inside her heart and which slowly crept her every pore until it filled her up from feet to head. With that delightful sensation the young woman fell into the most peaceful sleep.

It was not until a slow knock on the door woke Candy up a few hours later, that the young woman came back to her sense from the dreamland where she had escaped.

"Come in," she said with a yawn, knowing well that the visitor knocking at her door was not other but Julienne. When the older woman entered the room she found a smiling Candy stretching herself with cheeks and lips covered by a soft blush and the face lit up by a joyous glitter. Julienne had never seen such an expression in the young woman and felt utterly curious about it.

"It seems that you had wonderful dreams," she insinuated with a meaningful smile.

"No, I didnʼt dream at all," said Candy smiling as she got up with energy,


"but last night the most wonderful thing happened to me."

"What was that?" demanded Julienne wondering if Yves had something to do with that dazzling smile on Candyʼs face.

Candy looked at the window with her back to Julienne.

"First I thought that I was going to die at once. I spent the most awful hours of my entire life" she began with a more serious tone, "but this morning the sun warmed me up and I realized Iʼm the happiest woman on Earth," she concluded facing Julienne.

"Candy could you explain this to me with simple words?" asked Julienne terribly confused.

"Oh Julie," said Candy happily as she sat next to her friend and hold her hands in hers, "He is here! Last night I thought he would die and I was so afraid, but today he had already got over the fever and was conscious. Iʼm sure heʼll recover soon and . . . "

"Wait a minute Candy," interrupted the brunette with a frown, "Who is this HE?"

It was not until then that Candy understood that she was talking about Terri with someone that had just seen him a few times and who might not even remember his name. Not to mention that Julienne had no idea what the young man meant to her, or at least, that was what Candy thought.

"Well, I was talking about . . ." she stuttered, "about the man who escorted us in our way back to Paris,"

A series of isolated observations suddenly fitted into Julienneʼs head and she abruptly grasped the meaning of Candyʼs face.

"I see," the brunette finally said, "the heartless man had reappeared" she concluded opening her arms and puzzling Candy with her comment.

"What do you mean with ʽheartless manʼ, Julie?", she wondered

The brunette looked at her friend intendedly. Then, the older woman took Candy by the shoulders giving her a conspirational smile.

"My dear friend," she began her explanation, "It takes a woman to understand another. It was not difficult for me to realize that you did not meet that man last winter. You both knew each other well and not only that, Iʼm sure that he is the man whose memory made you cry that evening when Yves tried to kiss you. He is the heartless man who broke your heart long time ago. Am I wrong ?"

Candy stood speechless for a while, stunned by Julienneʼs perceptiveness and not knowing how to answer to her direct question.

"No . . .itʼs not true," she stuttered, "I mean, he is. . . but he is not . . ."

Julienne gave Candy a smile of disbelief crossing her arms.

"Candy!" she riposted.

"Well, I mean," the blonde tried to clear up, "Yes, I . . . I knew him . . .and," she hesitated, "I loved him. . . we had plans. . . .then we . . .we broke and all that."

"See why I say he is heartless?" Julienne insisted, "A man should be a total dumb to let go a girl like you."

"Oh Julie," Candy replied, "you are the second person who tells me this, but the truth is that we had to break up because of the circumstances. I donʼt see it as if it had been his fault."

"And as all the good and silly girls of this world," Julienne responded, "You are still madly in love with him. Arenʼt you?"

Candy lowered her eyes twisting her mouth in a sort of gracious pout. She remained silent for a while.

"Oh, Julie!" Candy finally exclaimed, "You are so right!" she confessed, admitting defeat.

The younger woman told her friend the summarized story of the common past she shared with Terri and the causes that had separated them. Julienne felt greatly moved by the sad tale and when the blond had finished her narration, the older woman could not avoid to shed a tear.

"I donʼt know how you made it to survive," said Julienne sobbing, " If that had happened to Gerard and I, this woman you see here would had died with the pain."

"I thought I would," Candy said with saddened eyes, "but then, times goes by and you find out that you are still alive. Days turn into months and one day you suddenly see yourself counting the years since the last time you were in his arms," she continued with melancholic mood.

"But now it seems that life is giving you both a second chance, donʼt you think so, Candy?" asked Julienne trying to cheer her friend up.

"I donʼt really now how he feels about me . . .but," the blonde paused doubtful.

"But?"

"Well, Iʼm happy to know that he will be fine and that I can help him in his recovery," she concluded thoughtful.

"Oh Candy!" said Julienne with a frown, "I think you should think of yourself more often, girl. Take advantage of the situation," said the woman mischievously.

"What do you mean?" asked the blonde innocently.

"Mon Dieu, girl!" exclaimed the older woman starting to lose her patience with Candyʼs naiveté. "He is your patient. You will have so many opportunities to be with him, talk to him, share time together," and then she added smiling maliciously, "get really personal. You know well how physical we have to get with our patients," Candyʼs eyes opened widely as realization plunged in her head. Then the memory of the previous night came to her mind and she imagined how she would have felt if Terry had been conscious the moment she prepared him for the surgery!

"The sponge bath!!!" said Candy going pale.

"Yes, that is a good example," said the other woman naturally, "he wonʼt be able to stand up from that bed for a few days, and . . . ."

"I CANʼT DO THAT!" cried Candy changing from a paled face to a deeply red blushed one.

"Come on Candy," smiled Julienne, "youʼve done that hundreds of times with many other patients!"

"NO YOU DONʼT UNDERSTAND!" yelled the blonde, "I CANʼT DO THAT WITH HIM. IT IS DIFFERENT! IT WOULD BE SO. . . SO . . .EMBARRASING!!!"

"But, Candy, do be reasonable," retorted Julienne, "you are his nurse, that will be part of your duties during the first days of his recovery. Donʼt be silly!" she ended amused by Candyʼs horrified face.

"Then I wonʼt be his nurse anymore!" she concluded abruptly, while she nervously bit her nails, "Iʼll find a substitute!"

"But Candy!"

"Yes, that is exactly what I will do!" ended the young woman trying to focus despite her sudden anxiety. She was convinced that was the best solution for the problem. But she didnʼt count on Terriʼs own plans.

​

Later on that very same day, Terri woke up again to find out that instead of his white angel there was a tall man in a white robe standing by his bed. The man was writing on a folder absentmindedly, but he soon felt the force of the couple of eyes that were staring at him. Then, both menʼs eyes met, steelish gray crashing on iridescent greenish blue and Yves suddenly remembered who was the man he had operated on the previous night. They remained silent for an uncomfortable while, each man frankly displeased by the presence of the other.

"It seems that our ways cross again," said Terri who was the first to talk.

"Yes, it is so," answered Yves coldly.

​

"Were you the one who saved my life?" asked Terri with difficulty.

"Well, I am your doctor, yes," answered Yves trying with all his strength to regain his composure to act professionally. The young physician was sort of mad at himself for his own reaction, not knowing a reasonable argument that could support his clear rejection towards a man that he had only seen once before, for a very brief moment. "My name is Bonnot, Yves Bonnot," he introduced himself offering his hand to his patient.

Terry accepted the gesture but it also took him a good effort to shake hands with the man in front of him.

"Terrence Greum Grandchester," said the young man looking at Yves fixedly.

"Iʼm indebted to you, Bonnot," admitted Terry despite the mistrust that Yves inspired him.

"It is not so sergeant," said Bonnot dryly, "I was just doing my job. You were very lucky to survive from the surgery and the fever. Now everything will depend on your cooperation with the treatment. Youʼll have to stay in bed, move the least as possible and follow a strict diet" recited Yves fighting his unexplainable rejection.

"Iʼm sure Iʼm in good hands," Terri whispered.

"Thank you," replied Yves surprised by the comment he believed a compliment.

"I was talking about my nurse," said Terri with poisonous intention.

"I see," said Yves deeply displeased but prepared to hit back, "If you are talking about Miss Audrey you must know that she is not your private nurse, she has many responsibilities in this hospital and you will have to be assisted by other nurses as well."

Terry felt the thrust of Yvesʼ caustic response. "Damn you bloody frenchy," he thought, "if you want war, that youʼll have."

"Well, anyway, I know very well Iʼm in good hands," Terri answered stressing the word ʽwellʼ with superiority and smiling roguishly.

​

Patty had received another letter from her parents asking her to go back to Florida. The young woman left the missive on top of the pile she had in a forgotten drawer. She stood up from the chair where she had been sitting while replying to her family. She had scratched a few lines for her parents telling them that she would stay with her friends for a few weeks more, and a long letter full of details for her grandmother. Patty thought that even when her relationship with her parents had never been all that it should have, she was not as unlucky as other high-class lonely children because she had always had her grandmother Martha by her side, who had been the angel and conspirational partner of her childhood and teenage years. At twenty years old, Patty still had in the old lady a trusting friend and a confidant.

The young woman walked slowly to the window and her sight got lost in the beauty of the rose garden of the Audreyʼs manor house, in the outskirts of Lakewood. The view was all that Candy had always told her and even more. Under the splendid spring sun, the roses were blooming at their full glory, and the air spread the flowers scent all through the estate. Patty felt how a sweet and warm new breeze caressed her face when she opened the window to breath the soft perfume that always reminded her of Candy.

Inside the brunette, a torrent of new and old emotions had started to bathe her soul during the last six moths, and that quiet sunny morning, each one of her internal chords seemed to be singing a song with unexpected and renewed tones. The girl smiled as she loosed her hair which reached her shoulders like a dark veil, dancing with the summer wind.

Patty, Archie and Annie were spending a few days in the Lakewood mansion carefully chaperoned by grandmother Aylo. This last detail had not been an obstacle for the frequent visits that Tom had paid to his friends because, despite the natural resistance of the old lady to abase herself to mingle with the "commoners", she could not forget how special the young manʼs friendship had been for her dearest and lost grandson, whose memory she had never forgotten. So, thanks to Anthony, Tom had full acceptance in the mansion and his visits were always welcomed, especially by a pair of feminine dark eyes, that lit up each time the farmerʼs carriage appeared in the distance.

The friendship between Patty and Tom had made important progresses since they had met the previous Christmas. The kind and simple manners of they young man complemented well with the sweet and timid moods that were part of Pattyʼs personality. They suddenly surprised themselves trusting each other their hopes and dreams for the future, as well as their sad memories. Tom had shared with Patty the terrible loneliness in which he had lived since his father had died from a heart attack a couple of years before. During all that time, he had thrown himself wholeheartedly into the complex work of managing his thriving farm; but all of a sudden, working from dawn to sunset and even more, had turned insufficient as his soul begged him for other sort of comfort. Patty, on his own, poured on Tom all the grief that Stearʼs death had left in her heart, leaving her dried and devastated at the tender age of sixteen. Little by little, the young couple began to build up a solid tie that matured into more intense feelings even when they seemed not to realize it thoroughly.

Tom had been the first one to accept the new uneasiness of his heart but he did not find a solution for such a trouble, so different from the normal challenges he was used to face in his life of farmer and business man. It was not only the normal nervousness of a young man who does not find the way to confess his feelings what was puzzling him, but also a long list of considerations about the social class differences between him and the lady he was already in love with.

Not having a father to trust his doubts, Tom decided to ask for advice to a man that had always lived between the sophistication of an aristocrat family and a deep love for nature and simple life. Who else but Albert to help him find some light for his confused mind? Therefore, during a forced trip that Tom had to do to Chicago, in order to negotiate the sale of his cattle, he took advantage of the opportunity and made an appointment with the young tycoon to talk in private.

"It is funny that you thought of me to discuss such an issue," chuckled Albert when Tom had already spoken out his dilemma. "I have never been truly in love and have no idea how you should propose a girl", confessed the older man as he served his friend a glass of cognac. They were alone at the large studio that Albert used as his main office in the mansion of Chicago.

"Well, honestly," stuttered Tom still embarrassed to talk about his feelings, "What really worries me is her reaction. I mean, she is such a distinguished young lady and her family has a position, prestige . . .I think they might not approve . . ."

"You are a wealthy man, Tom," commented Albert sitting down in his favorite leather chair, "I donʼt think that Patty would suffer any kind of lack being your wife. Plus, money is what less counts regarding marriage. Love is what really matters."

"I know that I will never starve, Albert," replied Tom sipping the warm liquid, "But despite my economical stability, I am not a man of high lineage. My father inherited me an honest name, that is true, but it does not have such a prestige as yours, for instance. Plus, on top of all, I know well that I was an orphan, and those things are often important for the people of your class."

"You have always been a secure man, Tom," responded Albert, "I donʼt see why you are considering all those nonsense as an obstacle. If she loves you, and I have reasons to think that she does, nothing should come in the way between you two."

"Do you really think so?" asked Tom with glittering eyes, "Do you think she loves me?"

"Well," laughed Albert amused with his friendʼs eagerness, "That is a question you should ask to her directly, but yes, I have the feeling that she cares for you."

"And what about her family?" asked again Tom still fearful, " Do you think they would approve our relationship despite my origins?"

"Ummm, that is different," admitted Albert rubbing his chin, "I know that Pattyʼs grandmother will surely be your most fervent supporter, but I cannot say much about her parents. However, I donʼt believe you should worry too much about that. If Patty loves you truly, she will find the way to deal with her familyʼs objections and even fight them back if they strongly oppose. Moreover, when the war ends, as I hope it will, Mr. And Mrs. OʼBrien will surely go back to England and that would give you the opportunity to build a healthy marriage away from the familyʼs influence."

A soft light sparkled in Tomʼs eyes when he heard Albertʼs comforting words. That evening the young man took the train back to Lakewood with the heart full of renewed hopes. A firm resolution had substituted his hesitations. The following morning he would visit again the mansion of the roses.

​

It was a splendid morning of June and the light of the brightest sun came through the window next to Terriʼs bed. On the night table a small vase with a lily greeted the young man when he opened his eyes to recognize the surroundings. He was installed in a large ward shared with other 15 patients, the air was charged with a strong aseptic odor and a woman dressed in white was taking the temperature to his neighbor.

The nurse was incredibly thin and had long nose, light brown hair tied in a bun and a couple of icy light blue eyes. Terri observed her for a while with attentive eye. After his inspection he thought that the woman could be in her late thirties and was decisively and absolutely ugly. She reminded him an illustration of the Wizard of Oz that he had read when very little.

"That woman," he told himself, "looks just like the Evil Witch of the East." And he couldnʼt refrain a suffocated chuckle at the thought.

"Good that you seem to be having so much fun with yourself," said the Evil Witch, with a smirk. "Now, since it seems that you are feeling so well it is time to change those bandages and give you a bath, young man." The woman continued in a monotonous tone.

Terri looked at the woman with wide opened eyes as her nosy voice penetrated his ears.

"Wait a minute!" he said not able to hide his annoyance, "Where is Candy?"

The woman was not surprised by Terriʼs question because he was not the first patient to insist in being attended by the most popular nurse in the hospital. So, she took the young manʼs question lightly while she began to prepare Terri for the bath.

"I made a question and I would like to receive an answer!" said the young man vehemently, "And what the heck do you think you are doing, miss?!!" he asked visibly alarmed when the woman began to undress him and as she did not pay attention to his complains he seized her by the wrist in order to stop her moves.

"So you are going to be one of those difficult kids. huh?" commented the woman mockingly getting free from Terriʼs grip with a sudden jerk, "I know well all those tricks."

"Where is Candy?" Terri asked again already set into his worst mood.

"Let me explain you how things work here, son," said the woman crossing her arms over her flat chest, "You are in this hospital to recover from those shots that you got back there in the battle field, but it does not mean that you will be attended all the time by cute blondies so that your male ego can be rewarded. Miss Audrey, has been assigned to another ward and from now on I will be in charge of you in the morning shift. And my responsibility now is to give you a sponge bath. So now, will you cooperate with me?"

"A what?" Terri screamed, shocked by the idea, "No way madam, I can take a shower by myself, just tell me where. . ." he said trying to stand up but again an acute pain pierced his whole body forcing him to lie down once more.

"Fine, fine," retorted the woman, "Keep on moving that way and your wounds will open so nicely that I will have to give you a few stitches without anesthetic. Now stop doing and saying so many stupid things and let me do my work"

The woman took advantage of the pain that Terri was suffering to begin with the bath while a very frustrated young man silently cursed the Evil Witch of the East, the doomed frenchy doctor whom he believed responsible for Candyʼs absence, and the whole world around.

​

Five days had passed since Terri had woken up for the first time in Saint Jacques hospital. In all that time he had not seen Candy at all. The Evil Witch, whose name was Nancy, kept taking care of the young man during the mornings, Yves would visit him regularly every afternoon and always would evade Terriʼs direct questions about Candy, a tiny young nurse named Françoise looked after the young man in the afternoon shift and, in the evenings, an old lady would continue with the job. Not a sign of Candice White.

However, the morning of the sixth day, Terri first realized that the lily in the vase of his night table had not died in all that time. His mother had a special predilection for those flowers and he remembered how ephemeral they were. The young man wondered how it could be possible that the flower had lasted fresh and lush for such a long time. It was then when he observed with a nervous eye how the other patients did not have flowers on their night tables. Who could be bringing him that single flower and making sure that he would have always a fresh one to enlighten his day?

Terri deduced that someone was changing the flower for a new one each night while he, despite of his usual insomnia, slept deeply under the effect of the pain killers. Thus, he resolved that the following evening he would not take the pills offered by the old nurse of the night shift and stay awaken to see whose was the kind hand that provided him with the delicate present. The sole idea that such a person could be Candy made him tremble in joy.

The night came finally and little by little, the noise of the patients chattering from one bed to the other began to fade as the wounded men were falling asleep. By 12 oʼclock the ward was quiet and in total silence. It was then when Terri heard feminine steps approaching from the entrance of the ward and coming closer to his bed. The steps suddenly stopped in front of him and he could hear little noises of crystal and water pouring.

A delicate hand was holding a fresh lily and was about to place it in the small vase when it was intercepted by another hand a lot larger and stronger.

"I caught you with the hands in the cookie jar, nocturnal visitor!" whispered Terri smiling at a very surprised Candy.

"Terri!" gasped the young woman, "you should be sleeping."

"How could I possibly do it if you abandon me all day long?" he reproached her without loosing Candyʼs hand.

"I . . . I . . .didnʼt abandon you Terri," she stammered, "You are recovering pretty well and I . . I .. had other obligations."

"But you could have dropped by just to say hello, couldnʼt, you?" he complained as his thumb started to rub softly the young womanʼs hand. The truth is that he was a little upset for Candyʼs absence all those previous days, but the fact that she had been visiting him every evening to put a fresh flower in the vase meant so much to him that he had already forgotten his resentments. Besides, her skin felt so perfectly soft and warm under his touch that he just couldnʼt be mad at her.

"Iʼve been kind of busy," she excused herself, "now, Terri, could I get my hand back?" she begged nervously, anxious to cut the physical contact with the young man before he could notice how he was sending shivers all through her body.

"Not until you promise me that you would stay for a while to talk," he said looking at her with earnest eyes.

"Itʼs past midnight, Terri!" Candy responded scandalized, "you should be sleeping by now!"

"I just canʼt do it and itʼs been pretty boring all this time," he insisted not loosing his grip.

"All right you win," she gave in rolling her eyes, "but now let me put the flower in the vase,"

The young man loosened Candyʼs hand reluctantly and despite the release she felt, the girl also perceived a terrible coldness once her skin did not feel the touch of Terriʼs own. She placed the flower in the vase desperately thinking of the excuse she was going to give Terri. As she had determined the very first day, Candy asked to be assigned to a different ward after Julienne had made her realized what she would have to face being in charge of the young manʼs attention. Since then, she had wanted to see Terri again, but being afraid of his questioning and not knowing what she would answer, she had preferred to stay away from him.

Notwithstanding her fears, she had decided to regale Terri with a flower everyday, so that he could have something beautiful around to brighten the dull days in the hospital. But now that she had been caught red-handed, she had not idea how she was going to handle the situation. "What have you being doing all the time that could be more important than taking care of an old friend in pain," he asked playfully while she sat on a nearby chair.

"Well, hundreds of things," she mumbled, "Iʼve been doing long hours in surgery."

"On the contrary I have being doing anything but missing you and get bored," he reproached sweetly with an intense gaze, "youʼve been very cruel with this friend of yours."

"But you have been in good hands," she defended herself.

"Oh yes, sure," Terri smirked, "The Evil Witch of the East, Miss Tiny Cold Hands, and Old Mother Goose, not to mention that pathetic frenchy."

"What are you talking about Terri?" Candy asked confused, "The Evil Witch of the East?"

"Iʼm talking about that sweet Nancy who insists in rubbing my skin until it is red and swollen," he complained, "My goodness! She is the ugliest view Iʼve ever seen. There should be a law that prevented hospitals from hiring such horrendous women as nurses."

"Terri!" she cried out annoyed, "Nancy is a competent nurse and you shouldnʼt be calling her with such an awful nick name. Will you ever learn to call people by their original names?"

"Real names are boring," he responded nonchalantly, "Take freckles for instance, isnʼt it a more interesting and meaningful name than Candice?"

"Oh you are impossible!" she riposted.

"No you are wrong, my dear," he said sending her a flashing look, "who really is impossibly unbearable is your pathetic frenchy."

"And who is that, may I know?" Candy wondered.

"Who else but that disgrace of doctor that I have to endure," explained him with bitter tone.

"Terrence!" Candy said reproaching, "Yves is a great doctor, and just in case you havenʼt figured it out, he saved your life!"

"Oh yes, yes, I know that part already, and Iʼm grateful," he stated, "but I just canʼt stand him since I know well he must be the one who arranged things so that you stayed away from me!"

"What are you talking about?" Candy asked with disbelief, "Where did you get that silly idea?"

"Come on Candy! Do you think that Iʼm so stupid to not realize how that silly frenchy drools for you?" he responded beginning to get upset.

" I wonʼt allow you to talk in that way about Yves. He doesnʼt have anything to do with the fact that Iʼm not working in this ward any longer. It was me who asked for that change!" Candy burst and when she realized what she had just said it was too late to go back. The words have already been said.

"Oh really!?" Terri said with resented tone, "So you decided that I was a sort of leper and your highness preferred to step away."

"You donʼt understand, Terri!" Candy replied already trapped in their old fighting habit.

"Of course, I understand," he continued, "but I tell you this miss Audrey, you wonʼt get rid of me so easily!"

"Is that a threat?" she asked in a challenging tone.

"Take it the way you prefer, but youʼll hear about me soon!" he said crossing his arms.

"All right, go ahead and start!" she said standing up from the chair and leaving the room in a rage.

Candy stopped just right after she had gone out of the ward. Her cheeks were flushed by her contradictory emotions and her heart beat furiously. Terriʼs words sounded in her ears in an insistent echo.

"The Evil Witch of the East!" she whispered not able to control a smile. "Where does he get all those names? And what was that of Yves drooling for me . . . Could it be possible that Terri . . .he was . .. jealous!!??" Candy nodded in denial dismissing the thought as she headed towards her room.

In his bed Terri looked at the flower the young woman had left on his table and with a smile in his lips he fell asleep while he planned his moves for the following morning.

​

"Whatʼs going on Doctor Collins?" asked Major Vouillard when the American doctor came into his office one quiet afternoon. Vouillard had been told that there was an emergency in one of the wards.

"Well, Sir," began the man confused, "Iʼm afraid there is a sort of. . .of..."

"Of what Dr. Collins?" demanded Vouillard impatiently.

" A mutiny," mumbled Collins.

"Say that again," asked Vouillard in disbelief frowning his thick eyebrows.

"A mutiny, Sir," repeated Collins with pale face, "the patients in all the ward are in a kind of strike, they refuse to follow their prescriptions and even eat."

In all his life as a soldier Vouillard have never heard of such a thing as military patients going on a strike. The man sat down on his chair scratching his nape.

"Can you please tell me what are these patients complaining for?" asked Vouillard after a while when he had managed to get over his astonishment.

"You see, sir," began Collins with a weak voice, not really knowing how to put in words what was happening, "they are actually, actually asking for a particular nurse,"

"WHAT?" cried out Vouillard,

"This nurse," continued Collins, "She was working in this ward sometime ago, then she was changed, and the patients want her back."

"And may I know who is this so popular nurse?" asked Vouillard irritated.

"Miss Audrey, Sir," said the doctor.

Vouillard took his right hand to his forehead in a sign of frustration as he nodded his head.

"This girl is going to drive me crazy one of these days!" he exclaimed.

"What should we do with the patients, Sir?" asked Collins with fearful tone.

"For Godʼs sake, Collins!" said Vouillard opening his arms in a nervous gesture, "we donʼt have time for such a nonsense, Miss Audrey can work here or there as long as it is in a safe place. Send her back to her previous ward and let these patients enjoy her beautiful presence again, but if there is one more of these . . .mutinies, Iʼll be forced to send her to another hospital!"

​

After a long wait that had seemed eternal for Terrence Grandchester a slender white figure appeared at the entrance of the ward he shared with other men. Terriʼs bed was placed in one corner at the end of the large room, enlightened by a large window. From his position he could see how the feminine silhouette moved slowly from bed to bed greeting her patients with a smile and a few cheerful words. This time the young man let himself indulge freely with the pleasant view.

His eyes devoured every inch of her shapely frame wrapped in a white uniform that reached her ankles, while his mind toyed with the memory of the last time they she had been near him. Since the night he had caught Candy in her furtive visit, she had come back to replace the lily daily during the mornings. But they havenʼt had much time to talk because she was always in a hurry, she would smile at him and leave immediately. He had thought so badly of the things that he could say to her the following time he had the opportunity to talk to her, but as she approached to his bed he got lost in his admiration and his head didnʼt seem to respond to his command.

Things did not improve when he observed how more than one patient looked at the girl with the natural eagerness of a male eye that sees a beautiful woman passing by. But he could not blame his partners, especially when he owed them a good one, for the support they have given to him when he came with the idea of having Candy back in the ward. It had not been difficult for the articulate young man to convince the men to protest firmly until they had they young woman as their nurse in the morning shift, instead of the Evil Witch.

So, Candyʼs presence in the room was just the result of his smart manipulation of otherʼs will. He could feel proud of his achievement, but that had been just the first part of his plan. Now the second step had to start : beating the "bloody frenchy", was next in his trail of thoughts. Then, Terri remembered about his last encounter with Yves and his blood began to boil setting him in a terrible mood.

"So you finally got what you wanted, sergeant," was the first thing that Yves had said the previous afternoon during his daily visit.

"You can see how we can trust in our democratic processes and the power of the peopleʼs will. You are French, you should know about it, Mr. Bonnot," Terri had replied nonchalantly.

"May I ask you a question, sergeant?" asked Yves with flaming eyes while he checked Terriʼs wounds, " Do you honestly think that Miss Audrey will have the time and humor to put out with your ridiculous flirting?"

"Very funny, Mr. Bonnot," smirked Terry, "but I couldnʼt expect less from a man who does not see that he has set his hopes in an impossible dream." He continued caustically. "Ouch! That hurt!" cried the young man as he felt how Yves had pinched him accidentally just where the wound hurt the most.

"What do you mean?" asked Yves looking at Terriʼs hardened eyes with the same threatening light.

"What you just heard, doctor," responded Terri, "Iʼm aware of your intentions with Candy."

"Which have always been honest. Something I cannot say of yours," replied Yves surprised at his rivalʼs frank challenging words, " As I see it, you are just looking for some fun while you stay in this hospital. So, I warn you Grandchester, do not try to get cute with Miss Audrey, and since when you call her Candy?"

The last question was the clue that painted a smile of superiority in Terriʼs face. "That was the entry I was looking for," he thought.

"That is an old story, doctor," Terri said mockingly, "but you are wrong if you think I just want to toy with Candy. She is an old friend of mine."

Terriʼs words sunk in Yvesʼ ears with poisonous taste. "Did Candy know this man so well?" he wondered internally but got the guts to respond to Terriʼs insolent look.

"Then, I expect that you behave as a good friend, and donʼt bother her," he said coldly, "By the way, from tomorrow on you can start standing up and moving in a wheeled chair. Youʼll be able to take a shower by yourself," were Yvesʼ last words before he left Terri alone.

Yes, just the memory of such a conversation made Terri feel like strangling his doctor, but the glorious view that was approaching his bed made him forget his anger when Candy finally greeted him with a smile.

"Good morning Terri," she said sweetly, "As you can see, you won your little revolution."

The young man looked at Candy searching for any sign of annoyance or resentment in her face, but he could only see that bright and naïve expression that had charmed him ever since. He had imagined that she would be mad at him for making such a fuss to have her as his nurse and was kind of prepared for another verbal fight with the young woman. Nevertheless, what he found instead of a frowning face was a kind and seductive pair of green eyes looking into his.

"I told you that you would hear about me," he said winning confidence with her attitude, "but I thought you would be angry with me."

"Thereʼs no reason for that," she said while she revised the medical report.

"I had asked to be changed to another ward because there were some interesting cases there," she lied with her eyes fixed on the paper so that he could not read her nervousness, "but those patients are out of the hospital now, so I donʼt have any objection to work here. In fact, I must admit that it was kind of . .. flattering that you all wanted me back with so much fervor," she ended leaving the paper aside and getting ready to give Terri his medication.

The truth was that Candy felt more secure to work with Terri now that the doctor had authorized him to begin moving. He would be a little bit more independent and she wouldnʼt have to find herself into too embarrassing situations with him. When she had been ordered to take her old place, Candy had even welcomed the disposition because it obviously would allow her to be near Terri for longer time. "After all," Candy had thought surprising herself, "Julie might be right . . . and perhaps this could be . . . a new chance. . ." However, she couldnʼt avoid thinking of Yves at the same time.

"I guess your doctor didnʼt like the idea quite much," Terri suggested craftily while he gazed intensely Candyʼs every move.

"Oh stop that Terri!" Candy retorted as she tried to gather the guts to uncover Terriʼs bandages under the young manʼs penetrating sight. "Yves is not my doctor and he does not have any reason to be upset for this matter," she responded.

"He is madly in love with you. Have you noticed it?" he insisted, partly because he wanted to see what was the young womanʼs reaction at the comment, but also because he needed to keep on talking to shield his own emotions as Candyʼs delicate hands flew over his skin rubbing lightly his bare chest as playful butterflies.

"I donʼt think that Yvesʼ private life is of your concern Terri," she said with serious air looking directly at his eyes for the second time in the morning, but immediately averting his gaze. She was too scare of the watery depths of his eyes.

"It is when it mingles with yours, my old friend," he whispered trapping Candyʼs hand in his once more.

"Well, my private life shouldnʼt be of your concern either," she replied sharply, loosing her hand from Terriʼs grip, "but anyway, you must know that Yves is just my friend and from now on Iʼd like us to stop talking about him. Is that O.K?" Candy asked with a tone that was rather a command.

Terri felt content with Candyʼs last words. He had just gotten the information that he was looking for. So, there was not anything formal, as he had imagined that winter night. Father Graubner was right, after all: "there was hope". He felt as though a sweet syrup crept through his mouth until it reached his heart. If he had not been wounded, he would surely have stood up and danced joyfully. Then he thought that it had been enough pushing for the first day, and he surrendered to Candyʼs authoritative words.

"O.K. youʼve got a deal, no more frenchy talk" he said raising his right hand.

"His name IS Yves," she replied severely.

"All right, we wonʼt talk about . . . .him," Terri responded wearing his most innocent smile but still resisting to call the young doctor by his real name.

Candy smile back knowing that Terriʼs bad habit of nick naming every single human being that crossed his life was too rooted to disappear just because she ordered it. But she did not care about it, for that was only one of the many little details that she admitted in him with the same loving acceptance that she took his virtues.

​

It was late in the evening when Candy went to bed. It had been a heavy day with long hours in the ward and some extra work in surgery. The young woman had heard that Flammy would come back to Paris the following day and such news had really made her day. The blonde was really anxious of seeing her old pal again.

Candy opened her window to feel the evening breeze. It was a splendid and starry summer night. From above, the twinkling lights of the firmament seemed to greet the young woman and play mischievously in the green and lambent surface of her eyes.

She had loosened her hair and it fell in a golden cascade of capricious curls up to her waist. Candy took both of her hands to her nape and buried her fingers in her long mane. It was indeed a warm night. Perhaps too warm to let her heart appease her anxieties after the excitement of the day. She couldnʼt forget neither that couple of clear eyes that looked at her with such an alluring gaze, nor the memory of her own hands sensing his firm muscles. It was impossible to ignore how persistently he searched for a touch and how his phrases were always permeated by endearments. Could it be possible that after all those years, after all the time he had been with Susannah, he still kept feelings for her?

"He is famous, has a thriving career, and is terribly handsome," she told herself, "So many women should be going after him all the time, now that they know he is free. Iʼm sure that most of those women are a lot more beautiful and sophisticated than I can ever be. Can he still have feelings for this plain nurse who once was his school girl friend? . . .And yet . . ."

Candy looked down and her eyes bumped into a card that someone had left in her night table. She immediately recognized Yves writing on the envelope.

She opened the card and read its content:

My dear Candy,

Will you honor me by accepting this humble invitation?


Iʼd like to take you with me for the celebrations of our Independence in two weeks.


There will be lots of fire works and dancing.


Iʼm telling you in advance so that you can think about it.

Always yours,


Yves.

Candy sighed and lay down on her bed while rubbing her chin with the card, wondering what was going on within her heart.

 

[domniki]

CHAPTER ELEVEN

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The hardest words to say.

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Patty sat down in front of her dresser looking in the Italian mirror how her cheeks were flushed, whereas her chest was still moving with agitation, below the neck line of her silken yellow dress. She took her gloved hand to her face, feeling through the material the pulse of her heart still altered and thumping. It was as though an uncontrollable uproar had invaded her inner been.

She took off her gloves to look at her hands with an adoring look. In her left hand the white sparkle of a gem winked at her with dazzling glitters. She let escape a deep sigh and a smile drew in her face. Then, a shy knock at the door made her come back from her daydreaming. She felt a little annoyed with the intrusion.

"Whoʼs there?" she asked not quite willing to open the door.

"Itʼs me, Annie," answered a dulcet voice behind the door, "Please, Patty we have to talk!"

Patty smiled feeling released that her visitor was Annie. In fact, the young lady was the only person that Patty truly wanted to see in that moment. She couldnʼt wait to share with her friend the wonderful news she had.

Therefore, Patty stood up briskly and ran to open the door for her friend.

"Oh Patty!" gasped Annie once she had entered the room and Patty had closed the door making sure that they would enjoy of absolute privacy, "You have to tell me everything, girl! What did you talk about? What did he say?"

Both girls sat down on the large bed and held hands not able to talk for a while.

"Come on, Patty, tell me," insisted Annie.

"Oh Annie, I donʼt know how to start!" cried Patty, joy filling her face.

"Start showing me that ring!" pointed the young woman as she took Pattyʼs hand in hers.

"Isnʼt it beautiful?" asked Patty while the diamondʼs sparkles danced in the apples of her eyes.

"Oh, yes, a major beauty and in the shape of a heart!" commented Annie with a giggle, "I never thought that Tom could have such a delicate taste? But now, girl, spit it out, how did he propose?. You have to tell me everything!"

Patty blushed fiercely and lowered her eyes in a timid gesture. Her heart started to beat faster once more at the mere remembrance of the moment in which Tom had finally found the courage to confess his feelings and ask her hand in marriage. Albert was visiting them in Lakewood manor house, so Grand Mother Aylo had organized a tea party in his honor. Tom had been invited and during the evening, the young man and Patty had left the group to stroll in the rose garden.

"Annie," Patty began to explain, "I never believed that I could feel something like this once more. I thought that I would never love again, but tonight. . . . he took my hands in his and told me how much he loves me . . . and I . . ."

"Yes…Patty…?" prompted Annie delighted at her friendʼs happiness.

"I realized that I feel the same about him," she continued, "I understood that I have fallen for him and now I canʼt deny it anymore!"

"What did he say?" wondered Annie anxious to hear every single detail

"Oh, he was so nervous!" Patty responded giggling, "He almost stammered at the beginning, but then he finally told me that he loved me since the very first time we met at Ponyʼs home,"

"I knew it, I knew it!" said Annie with triumphal tone as she crushed a pillow, carried away by the emotion, "But tell me, what happened next,"

"He asked me if I would ever be able to think about a poor orphan like him, as something more than a friend . . ."

"Oh he said that, the silly one?"

"He began saying I donʼt know what nonsense about my lineage and his origins"

"And what did you say?" Annie asked intrigued.

"I told him that I donʼt care about that and he went mute!"

"AAAHHHH!" cried Annie biting her nails.

"Then I . . . . told him . . . ." Patty paused hesitantly.

"WHAT?" asked Annie anxiously.

"That I love him in return," said Patty finally, while hiding her face in her hands.

"Oh My!!!! Oh My!!!" exclaimed Annie with joyous voice, "Iʼm so happy for you ! Tell me .. . .How did he ask you. . .?"

Patty lifted her face and Annie could see it was even redder.

"He took my hands like this," began Patty taking her friends hands, "and he asked me if I would marry him. And then he got out of his jacket a box and showed me the ring.. . .and then…."

"Yes?" wondered Annie wondering why her friend had stopped and was again averting her glance.

"Oh Annie, I donʼt know if I did something wrong!"

"Wrong?" asked Annie intrigued, "What do you mean?"

"Annie! I. . . ." said Patty but could not continue without taking both hands again to her face.

"I let him kiss me!" she finally said throwing herself in her old friendʼs arms.

Annie received her friend with all her tenderness, but was also totally shocked at Pattyʼs confession. Annie remembered well how the nuns had taught them about the endless list of doʼs and donʼts of a lady, during their times in the Academy. Perhaps the most impacting rule of all those had been the one that said clearly: a lady does not ever and never let a gentleman kiss her, but in the hand, unless she is married with such a gentleman. Annie also had in her mind the conversation she sustained with Patty and Candy that autumn afternoon, after the lesson.

They were discussing the list of rules, one by one, and Candy was having fun mocking at every statement, until they got to the kiss rule. Annie suggested that such a rule seemed quite fair to her and Patty had agreed. However, Candy just smiled with a dreaming look in the eyes and after a while she had said with an insolent tone as she laid on her bed: "Sister Gray can say that because she has never been in love!"

Annie remembered it had been the last conversation they had shared before the incident with Terri in the stables.

"Do you think I did wrong?" asked Patty still in Annieʼs arms.

"Well, I guess you are thinking about Sister Grayʼs rules, huh?" insinuated Annie taking Pattyʼs hand in her hands as she faced her friend.

"Err…well….yes, kind of," admitted Patty looking at her friendʼs eyes directly.

"You know, Patty," said Annie hesitantly, "Through the years I have found that all those rules are quite unpractical. Do you remember how Candy made fun of them?"

"Oh yes! As if I were listening to her right now!" responded Patty smiling. "A week after that lesson she ran away from the Academy!"

"Thatʼs right!" chuckled Annie at the remembrance, "Sister Gray almost had a stroke after that one!"

The two girls began laughing furiously until they bended their bodies. The conversation died for a good while as long as the young women let their memories flow. Little by little their laughter extinguished and the talk continued.

"After all the bold things that Candy has done in her life," began Annie, "I donʼt think an innocent kiss can be that bad," she finally said and Patty got serious again.

"And I must confess it was . . ." she dared to say.

"How?" asked Annie curiously.

"Pleasant!" said Patty shyly.

​

That evening in the solitude of her room, Annie Brighton looked at the stars and wondered why in all the years of her relationship with Archie, he had never tried to kiss her. Suddenly a cold shiver invaded her soul leaving her unexplainably depressed.

​

Of all the beautiful summer mornings that had ever been born over the planet Earth, the one that greeted Terrence Grandchester that certain day of July, seemed to be the most breathtaking and blessed one in mankindʼs history. He had been sitting on the window observing how the dawn painted its loveliest tones over the sky, while he listened to the internal voices in his heart.

He reviewed in his mind the different emotions he had felt throughout his life, and after his analysis, he concluded that the things he was experimenting had formed a new mixture of feelings he had never lived before, though there was that sensation of déjà vu filling the atmosphere.

"Almost four years living into the depths of hopelessness," he thought, "and all of a sudden I find myself envisioning the possibility of happiness. Am I just fooling myself, or is this real?"

He remembered his shadowed childhood and the long fifth Sundays in which all the children in the Academy received their parentsʼ visit and went out with them. All except him, of course. The naturally vivacious and cheerful child he had been at the age of three, when he was still living in New York, agonized slowly in the severe school. During one of those Sundays, he had hoped that someday his so-longed father would appear to take him for a ride around London. But such a yearned dream never came true, and that child finally died leaving him with the hardened heart of an older boy who did not trust anyone.

The last friend he could remember was a boy of his age whom he had met when he was very little, during the time he lived in New York. Later, in the Academy, his father had warned him not to get too personal with his classmates, afraid that the young boy could trust in one of his friends the secret of his origin, something that should be concealed for the sake of the familyʼs honor. Anxious to please his father, the young Terrence had obeyed the duke, gaining a reputation of a weird and gloomy fellow. However, as time went by and he realized that nothing he could do or say would ever win his fatherʼs heart. And so he locked doors of his heart for years, in a sort of protest for the unexplainable abandonment he fatherʼs attention, he decided that he was fine as lonely as he was suffered.

But the year he had met Candy things changed dramatically. She had appeared in the precise moment he felt the most miserable human being in the world to show him that someone could still care for him. It took her sometime, but little by little that brisk young girl had opened the locks of his heart until every single door was widely opened and he found himself exposed to the light of love. Yet, the love she made him grow inside was a new one. Something different from whatever he had ever felt. It was warm and sweet, but in the back of it, there were also new disquiets he had never had. Then, it was not enough to be by her side and talk, but there was that urgent need to fill his arms with her, feel the silky skin of her hands every time he could trap them in his, and drink from her mouth the sweetest flavors.

In that time he would always search for a touch, but she was indeed SO difficult that sometimes he ran out of patient. Yet, he had to admit that all the chasing had been extremely delicious and every time he remembered those days he knew that they couldnʼt have been better.

Later, the long separation came and the yearning years began. But those had been times of hopeful expectations and every single morning he would wake up to think that someday he would be able to see her again. Years later, it had amazed him how secure he had been that she would still remember and care for him. The most logical thing would have been to realize that she could forget the old classmate and replace him with another love, but in his heart he was somehow certain that she felt just the same way he did.

When they finally saw each other again and through letters exchanged promises of love, he went through a time that he had never imagined before. It was a sort of anguish and excitement at the same time. Perhaps that had been the closest to happiness he had ever been. But his bliss did not last long. The pain he had experienced in his childhood had been insignificant and futile in front of the one he faced after Susannahʼs accident.

Almost four years of the darkest night, going up and down in a depressive roller coaster. The locks of his heart shut up all at once and he found certain stability in all that sadness. In that state of mind the heart didnʼt risk any harm because it was dead. If any remainders of life had been left in him, they had been killed the day he received the news of Candyʼs supposed engagement. So, there was not way he could being injured again.

At least, that was what he had thought until the day Candy reappeared in his life. Then, the depression and the sleepless nights came back and had him in such mood for months. Finally, one day he woke up in a white large room and once more his life changed unexpectedly. So many things seemed to be happening again, but at the same time everything was different and brand-new.

It was indeed a weird blend. There was this joy of having her around everyday, just as in the school, and also that continual wondering: "she loves me, she loves me not". He could feel again that terrible urge to have her close to his body, a new sweet flirting game was floating in the air, and there were plenty of new hopes. Just as in the past . . . .Yet, it was so different, and those differences hurt him badly.

Unlike his previous experience, this time there was not a dead rival that could, at last, be easily beaten. All on the contrary, the rival was well and alive, and the worst of all was that the man had many advantages over him: he was not stuck to a bed, he had freedom to move and get close to her almost at any time, and the most important, Yves didnʼt have to be forgiven, sad things had never happened between Candy and the young doctor, blame could not be set on him. Whereas Terri believed that, if he had a chance with Candy, he would have first to get her forgiveness. But to find the courage to spell out such a confession was for him the hardest thing to do.

On top of all that, he had to admit that his natural anxieties could betray him at any time. He had wanted Candy for so long and having her always so close was a temptation hard to resist. Things had always gone the wrong way for him when it referred to love. The school days had been times of discovery, but not the right ones to find a complete release for his natural drives, they both were too young then and she had always been too shy and evasive. After that, when they finally saw each other in New York, his guilt had been heavier than his desires and he did not dare to get close, knowing that building up new memories would only make the imminent separation even worse. And he was right, that last embrace in the hospital staircase still hurt inside.

But then, there it was again, this impelling force, and for his great distress, now all those needs were stronger than ever! It was the young womanʼs own fault for being so . . .so . . . diabolically beautiful! How could it be expected that he behaved as a gentle man every time a woman like that helped him to the wheelchair and he could hug her closely?

"Oh God, how can Glory be so close to Hell!" he said to himself frowning at the the simple idea.

Yet, the morning was almost as beautiful as the woman in his heart and the certainty that she would be with him in a few minutes more was such a dulcet expectation, that he was sure no other morning had ever been as overwhelmingly lovely. He couldnʼt avoid a smile that slowly appeared in his lips.

" It is always comforting to see how the sun reappears again in the horizon. Isnʼt it?" said a feminine voice behind him " Good morning!" she whispered and it was as if the world had stopped its inexorable twirl for both of them.

"Good morning," he smiled back drowning in a pool of green.

"How did you get there?" she asked diverted with his mischief.

"Well . . . .I . . ." he stuttered not ready to give explanations on how he had left the bed and reached the window.

"Come on, Terri," she giggled, "it isnʼt as if you had committed a crime, but you should still be careful with your moves. Now, come here, Iʼll help you to bed." She concluded extending her hand towards him.

Then she got close to him and he hugged her shoulders for support as he tried to stand up on one leg. It was a routine they had silently enjoyed during the previous days since she had come back to work in the same ward he was assigned. She would always blushed lightly and her heart would beat faster for those brief moments while he breathed her scent with all his might, both of them rediscovering how their mutual warmth had not changed its comforting radiations. The spell would last until he sat down and then he had to loose her, not having more excuses to retain her in his embrace. But that blessed morning it was different. Perhaps it was the effect of dawn, or maybe that the light broke in golden beams over her hair, or just that sometimes the heart cannot conceal its cries. That time he retained her for a while holding her by the upper arms. She tried to moved back, yet he didnʼt loose his grip and she was afraid that he would hear the wild pumping of her heart.

He looked into her eyes whishing to find in those emerald depths a sign that could give him the courage to reveal what he had in his heart. But the uproar of his own fears blinded him , preventing his reason from understanding the evident feelings in the young womanʼs glance.

"Any problem?" she asked not able to part form his arms.

"It is just that. . . ." he mumbled.

"What?" she wondered in a whisper.

"I was thinking that . . ." he began as he thought just for himself: ". . . . that Iʼm even more in love with you than I was before…"

"That . . .?" she prompted him to talk trying to understand what he wanted to mean.

"That I feel so good this morning that I could even dance," he replied, only confessing part of his thoughts.

At his comment she smiled softly.

"I think you still have to wait for that, Terri" she replied.

"Then . . ." he continued as he enjoyed the intoxicating breeze of her breath, so close they were to each other, "when Iʼm fine, will you dance with me . . . ? I mean, for old timesʼ sake," he finally asked earnestly.

She lowered her eyes afraid that they could give away the turmoil in her soul.

" Yes, Terri, sure," she murmured trying to release herself from his grip, but he still didnʼt relinquish.

"Promise me you will," he demanded, plunging his penetrating blue sight into hers.

"I promise it, Terri," she replied, "but now, let me get your breakfast. Is that fine?"

"Yes, quite fine," he said finally loosening her.

From the distance, a couple of gray eyes observed the scene not knowing whether to feel heart broken or enraged.

"Damn American!" he thought, "heʼs got so many tricks under the sleeve! And it is so easy for him to get her attention being her patient! But I still have a few things to try," he told himself as he adjusted his tie, getting ready for his daily work.

The old cleaning lady that was in the middle of her work and had silently observed both sides of the story, smiled from the wisdom of her many years, saying to herself:

"Le bel Américain, un; le gentil médecin, zéro." (The handsome American, one; the gentle doctor, zero)

​

SaintJacquesHospital was hosted in an old 16th century building, with severe and thick walls, long corridors and an interior garden surrounded by doric columns. In the center of the garden there was a placid cherry tree which would bloom faithfully every year by summer time, enlightening that charming spot with its flowered presence and projecting refreshing shadows over the few benches that were placed around.

That afternoon after her turn, Candy sat down on one of those benches, completely exhausted by her tiring routine but also too excited to go to her room. The sight of the treeʼs whitened foliage had an appeasable effect over her and she had thought it would serve to find a release for her continuous anxieties.

She sat on a bench carefully studying the tree in front of her. She though for a moment that it would be a great idea to climb on it, but the small size of it made her desist of such a plan.

"In my next leave I would go to an open place where I can climb a large tree," she told herself.

"Do I interrupt your reveries?" asked a soft masculine voice behind her, that she immediately recognized.

"Not a all," she said smiling at Yves who was standing just a few steps away, with his white robe resting negligently over his shoulder. He had also finished his turn and was about to leave. The soft light of the sunset reflected its golden tones on his raven strands while it also played iridescent tricks on his light gray eyes.

"May I keep you company for a while, then?" he asked approaching the girl.

Candy assented with the head, secretly fearing this new encounter with the young man, who had become bolder in his advances since Terri was around. Candy couldnʼt blame him because she knew well that Yves was naturally perceiving the strong influence that the young actor had over her and was obviously jealous.

Yves sat down by Candyʼs side and stared at the tree for a while not knowing how to start.

"Candy," he finally said, "Have you thought about my invitation?"

Candy instantly averted Yvesʼ insistent glance lowering her eyes. The truth was that she hadnʼt had any time to think about the young physicianʼs invitation, so busy her mind had been with the constant danger of Terriʼs proximity.

"I . . . I," she started, "I still donʼt know if Iʼll have that day off," she said using the first excuse that came to her head.

"You could check that, couldnʼt you?" suggested Yves with an understanding smile, "I will work double turn for three days in order to have the whole day free," he added.

"Oh, you shouldnʼt strain yourself that way," she commented knowing by her own experience how difficult and tiresome those double turns could be. "I wouldnʼt like you to get sick because of that," she said sincerely worried for her friendʼs health as her hand reached for his arm in a friendly gesture.

The young man felt how the girlʼs touched burned on his arms and had to fight badly to resist his impulse to sweep the girl into his embrace.

"It might be good idea to get sick," he said with sad tone, "perhaps that way I could get as much of your attention as Grandchester does," he ended in almost a reproach.

Candy was surprised by Yvesʼ comment but did not find the words to answer to his insinuation.

"May I ask you something?" he kept on saying.

"Yes?" Candy replied fearing what could come.

"Is it true that you and Grandchester are old friends?" he asked not able to hold his doubts any longer.

Candy looked at Yvesʼ eyes directly, still shocked by the information he had and clearly guessing how he had learnt about it.

"It was Terri who told you that, isnʼt it?" she asked with inquisitive voice.

"So now he is Terri, huh?" he said caustically. "Then it is clear that he was saying the truth."

"Well, yes," Candy answered a little annoyed by Yvesʼ tone, "We met at school when we were teenagers. It is isnʼt a novelty that I call him Terri, that is the way everyone called him when we were kids, thatʼs all," she finally admitted.

Yves regretted his mordant comment as he realized how Candy had reacted and immediately tried to adopt an apologizing attitude.

"Oh Candy," he began, "I didnʼt want to intrude in your life. Excuse me if I said something that could have bothered you. It is just that I canʼt ignore the way he looks at you. Believe me, those glances of his are not the ones of an old good friend."

The young woman was shocked by her friendʼs remark. It was a complete surprise that someone else besides herself could have noticed Terriʼs constant wooing.

"You shouldnʼt take Terri so seriously," said Candy after a while with saddened inflexion, " He is always that way, but heʼs just looking for any opportunity to tease everyone around. He loves playing games with everybody, and he must we playing with you too."

"I donʼt care about his vicious habits," said Yves with a frown, "but I wouldnʼt like that he hurt you in any way."

The blonde looked at Yves feeling sympathy for the young manʼs sincere feelings towards her. However, she was aware of how late it was for someone to prevent her from being hurt. She had not know any other state since she had broken with Terrence.

"Thank you, Yves," she said while she stood up, "Iʼll be fine, donʼt worry about that. Iʼm conscious that Terri is just playing around and having a good time while he is in the hospital. Nothing serious about that, but now I must go and get some rest, you should do the same. Go home and enjoy your family."

The young man jumped from the bench and reached the girl seizing her arm. In a matter of seconds he was so close to the young woman that she could even feel the agitated pace of his breathing.

"Candy, please," he begged with trembling voice, " Tell me you will think about going with me to The Bastille Dayʼs celebration."

"Iʼll do it, Yves," she replied at the same time she tried to release herself from Yvesʼ hand.

"Á demain," she said smiling.

"À demain," answered Yves seeing how the young woman disappeared in the corridors, " à demain, mon amour" he said to himself.

​

It was late in the evening. She didnʼt know how it had happened but she was suddenly in the hospital garden again, sat on the bench just in front of the cherry tree. Her blond hair was loosened and spread all over her back, the full moon glittering over her golden curls. She looked at herself and found out with great horror that she was just dressing her night gown which was too thin and simply hold to her body by two brief straps, revealing her rounded and white shoulders.

"It is a beautiful night. Isnʼt it?" said a male voice in a whisper.

The young woman jumped at the sound of Yvesʼ voice by her side.

"But not as beautiful as you, my dearest one," he dared to say closing the gap between them with a single impulse of his body.

"Yves,. . ." she mumbled, not recognizing those so bold manners in the usually reserved and mild man.

" You must understand that a manʼs patience has its limitations," he murmured, while his hands reached for Candyʼs cheek, forcing her to see him directly in the eyes, "I need you so," he said and this time the young womanʼs reactions were not as fast as Yvesʼ own moves. Before she could do anything the young manʼs lips were already on hers, raining soft and light kisses.

Candy tried to escape from Yvesʼ hug, but he responded holding her even tighter. She even tried to push him violently, yet her body didnʼt seem to respond to her commands. She was paralyzed in Yves arms. Inside the blonde, a wild explosion of different sorts of emotions burst in all directions. She was confused with her reactions, she wanted to flee from the young manʼs arms, feeling that something was going wrong, but all of a sudden, her nostrils were invaded by a soft lavender perfume, a familiar warmth wrapped her body and a sweet taste of cinnamon she could not forget claimed her mouth as the kiss deepened in a more intimate exchange, when the young man parted her lips to explore into her mouth. She began to feel a change in her own mood and surprised herself enjoying the encounter. From frank rejection she had passed to total surrender. The kiss that had been just a light caress over her lips, an innocent and even shy meeting of lips, had matured into a passionate possession in which the man taking her was drinking from her very soul. Suddenly, whatever had been wrong had disappeared, and everything seemed to be so right!

She abandoned herself to the embrace and her arms encircled the young manʼs neck, tangling her fingers in his brown hair, pressing him even closer to her body with an eager need she had never known before. Candy had waited so long for that kiss which lingered for an endless moment, until the manʼs lips parted from hers and she could see into his blue eyes. By then, she was aware that the arms which were holding her so tightly were not Yvesʼ anymore. That passionate kiss to which she had yielded instinctively had had a different taste, one she knew well.

"You see Candy," said Terri with his velvety voice, "after all this time you are still mine, mine only, . . . . mine even in your dreams, my sweet freckled girl."

Candy woke up abruptly from her sleep. She barely could breath while her bowled over heart marched at a dangerous speed, beating fiercely as a machine out of control. Her whole body was covered with a profuse sweat and her hair was wet and tangled in total disarray.

The young woman stood from her bed eying over her quiet room mate, afraid that she could have awaken the girl from her pacific sleep. But Flammy, who was sleeping as peacefully as an angel, was totally oblivious to the fireworks that exploded into Candyʼs mind that night. The blonde opened the window hoping that the night breeze would suffocate the alarming flames that her dream had ignited in her. Yet, it was not enough.

"My Goodness!" she said to herself while feeling the summer air on her skin, "It was so real! It was as though Terri had really. . . ." but she couldnʼt continue her ideas, "Come on, Candy, control yourself otherwise you wonʼt be able to face him tomorrow morning," she retorted herself.

And with this last thought she decided to take a shower to wash her disquiets away.

​

While the cool water ran over Candyʼs body, tracing the soft lines of her silhouette, another soul fought with the demons of hidden fears and compelling emotions. However, the ways our minds reveal their secrets during the mysterious hours of sleep change its tones and nuances depending on multiple factors. What had kindled Candyʼs unspeakable fires during her dreams was just a pale shadow compared to the images that assaulted Terriʼs mind during his so scarce sleep. Unfortunately, the young man was already used to those torturing dreams that morbidly deceived him with apparent initial pleasures but always ended up in poignant nightmares.

He felt submerged in a deep and utterly sweet softness. It was as if he were bathed by warm waves that magically healed the wounds in his heart, and suddenly, there was no past or future, neither truth or lie, or pain, or defeat; just a blissful present, in which his soul vibrated in a hypnotizing cadence, along with the rhythmic moves of his body. Electrical feeling of bare skin reaching the volatile surface of a pool filled with nacre and rose petals, with the rose itself imprisoned in his arms, trembling in an endless embrace. Golden sparkles all around, quiet voices whispering love spells, the sound of a faraway moan tarrying in his ears, and then he knew there was such a thing as heaven over the Earth. Only to hear, a second later, a beloved voice crying a name that was not his.

The monosyllabic name thrust like a dagger in his heart and then again he was in hell waking up from such a perfect dream that maliciously waited for the last instant to liberate its nightmarish poison. Terri woke up from his sleep dooming his own subconscious that did not allow him to reach a complete joy not even in his dreams. He sat down on the bed and with his left hand tried to serve himself a glass of water from the pitcher resting on the night table.

The cold liquid ran through his throat placating his irregular breathing but not diminishing the bitter taste of the nightmare in which she would call another manʼs name.

"Bloody frenchy," he thought throwing himself to the pillow, "He had to ruin the best dream I have had in years! Now I wonʼt be able to sleep for the rest of the damn night."

He raised his eyes and looked at the pale moon behind the nocturnal clouds.

"Oh Candy!" he sighed, "What do I have to do to make you fall in love with me again?"

​

Sometimes the ghosts that torment our souls during the evening disappear at the first rays of dawn, and before the morning glory our fears retreat to leave room for new hopes. Despite his restless night, Terri saw the light of the new day with optimism when a white figured appeared at the wardʼs doorway.

Knowing that he would be the last one to receive the young womanʼs attention he waited silently while observing her daily ritual. She would greet warmly every single patient, check the medical report, administer medication, change the bed covers with extreme care, take the temperature, and many other little tasks, always seasoning the activity with a smile and some cheerful words of comfort. Candy knew about every one of her patientʼs personal life, she asked them if they had received news from their relatives, helped them to write a letter if the patients were not able to do it by themselves, or she would listen attentively at the stories the patients told her with enthusiasm.

Terri could have been looking at Candy for all the eternity, always delighted at her natural spontaneity and that usual sparkle that shone in her eyes and perennial smile.

"The more I see you, Candy," he thought, "the more madly in love I feel."

Just in front of Terriʼs bed there was a new patient. A young man about his age, who had been awfully injured by a grenade which had burned every single inch of skin from his chest to his upper legs. It had been a real miracle that he had survived to the explosion, but it might have been better that he died, so miserably painful his suffering seemed to be.

Candy treated the patient with special sweetness and it was clear that the only moment of joy that the poor young man had in his sad days was that moment when the blond angel visited him, taking away the bandages with the most tender care, washing every wound and covering them with ointment. In front of the awful view of the burned skin Terri couldnʼt refrain his shock, but Candy remained undaunted while her hands worked diligently and her voice didnʼt stop talking to distract the patientʼs attention.

Terri even felt a little bit jealous seeing how sweetly she treated his neighbor, but the feeling was mild and innocent, knowing well that Candyʼs kindness was something that had been born to be shared. He knew that he could not monopolize such a jewel, but as far as Yves was concerned . . . that was something totally different.

"Good morning, freckled girl," he told her when she finally came close to his bed.

Candy swallowed her nervousness when she heard him calling her the same way as in her dream the previous night. But after taking a second breath she finally joined the strength she needed to follow her routine. That morning she had a piece of good news for the young actor. With slow hands she took away the bandages over Terriʼs right shoulder and touched the skin around the scar.

"Does it hurt?" she asked him while slightly pressing on the area.

"How could a caress hurt?" he demanded with mischievous eyes.

"Do get serious, Terri!" she scolded him, "Try to lift your arm, now," she ordered in a commanding tone.

The young man obeyed her and followed the rest of her instruction meekly, but without losing a devilish smile in his face.

"So, what is your diagnosis, doc?" he asked after her inspection had finished, secretly wishing that the physical contact had never ended.

"It is not my diagnosis, but Yvesʼ?" she said looking at the medical report.

"Well, then, what does that respected physician say?" asked Terry mockingly.

"That you can start using crutches for brief moments. It wonʼt hurt your shoulder unless you abuse of them" she said smiling.

"You mean I can get rid of the wheeled chair?" he asked visibly happy with the idea.

"Yes you can. In fact, if you want, this afternoon when my turn ends, I could take you to the garden, so that you can try the crutches. You have been trapped in these walls for over a month, it is time that you take some fresh air. What do you think?"

"That it is the best offer I have been given in a long time," he responded smiling.

"Yes, you have been here for a long time already," she said as an idea came to her mind, "By the way, Terri, in all this time you havenʼt written a line to anyone. Donʼt you write letters to anybody in America? What about your mother?"

It was the first time that Terri didnʼt know what to say, but then, an old doctor inspecting on one of the patients called Candy saving him from giving explanations on the matter.

"I have to go now," she said, " But I will be back this afternoon. Is that O.K.?"

"It is a date," he said with a wink.

​

"This place is unexpectedly beautiful," Terri said looking at the tiny garden, plenty of jasmines, pansies, petunias and shy marigolds, lightened by the golden rays of sunset. "I wouldnʼt think that there could be a corner like this in such a dull building."

The young woman that kept him company sat down on a stone bench while he contemplated the soft shadows that the cherry tree projected over the paved floor. The afternoon was placid and refreshing. The mixed fragrances of the flowers penetrated the senses making the mind wonder in pleasant reveries. Terri looked at the colored cheeks of the young woman by his side and could not avoid thinking of the secret sensations that he had enjoyed in his dream the previous night. . . before it turned into a nightmare, of course.

Candy turned her head and in a fraction of second their eyes met. They remained glued to each otherʼs glances, captive in their liquid glares. The girl and the young man surprised themselves with their inability to stop that electric current between the two of them. Yet, with great effort she finally managed to break the charm with her words.

"Well, I think we should start practicing," she said standing up while she took the crutches that she had left on the bench. "Time to leave that wheeled chair, come on, Iʼll give you a hand."

Terri took Candyʼs hand in his to stand up on one foot. A minute later he was trying the crutches while the young woman followed him just a step behind.

"This feels a lot better," he said enjoying the new sensation of independency.

"Do not exaggerate, Terri!" she warned when she realized he was speeding up dangerously," Take it easy!"

But the young man did not hear her warning and kept on moving until one of the crutches got stuck in the paved path making him lose balance. She noticed it and rushed to hold him before he fell down.

"What a delicious excuse to enjoy another stolen hug," Terri thought when he felt Candyʼs arms around his waist, and his hands immediately reached for the young womanʼs body. He reclined his weight over the cherry tree pulling Candy into his arms until they were practically locked to each other in a very compromising situation. He could inhale the soft perfume of her hair, a few curly strands brushed his chin with the evening breeze as he lowered his head.

​

"We have lived this before, havenʼt we," he murmured in her ear sending shivers all through her body.

Candy froze in the embrace savoring Terriʼs warmth and the overwhelming bliss of his arms around her waist. She hadnʼt been so close to him in a long, long time and would have wanted that the charm of the hypnotizing power he had over her lasted for ever. She felt a strong desire of resting her head on his chest, but could she trust in him to avow her feelings? Could he still feel the same, or was it all a game? However, she did not have to make a decision on how far she could trust in Terri right then, because some steps coming from the corridor forced her to leave his arms, fearing to be found in such a position with one of her patients.

"Please Terri," she managed to say when she had already parted from his hug, "try again, but this time be more careful," she asked stepping back. He nodded as he damned himself for not being able to speak up.

"Why is it all so difficult?" he thought while moving again, "just as if my jaws were stuck and I cannot find the courage to tell her what I feel. Oh, Jesus, Iʼm acting worse than a teenager!"

The young woman continued walking behind the man for a while, but he soon got used to walk with the crutches and she advised to stop the practice. It was not a good idea to wear out the patient the very first time.

They sat on the stone bench to observe the last lights of the sunset that colored the summery sky as a faded crescent moon started to appear in the firmament, hand locked with the evening star. They remained in silence for countless minutes, not knowing why the twilight always overpowered them in such a way when they were together, as if the magic link that united them could be best revealed during that time of the day.

Candy could not avoid thinking of other sunsets they had shared in the past and her mind immediately flew to the unforgettable summer they had spent together, under merrier, lighthearted conditions, so different from the ones they were living then, with the load of their recently gained adulthood and the sad story of encounters and separations they had lived through the years.

With one of those rare connections that weave the net of our memories, Candy remembered then about the question that Terri had not answered in the morning and she decided it was a good time to pose it again.

"Terri," she began breaking the silence.

"Huh?" he mumbled still in a sort of trance.

"Why havenʼt you written to your mother?" she bluntly asked looking at him with questioning eyes.

Terry turned his head to face her. He felt that he had been violently pulled out of his pleasant meditations with such a question. Of all the issues that he could have dealt with, that was the one he wanted to face the least, and Candy was certainly the last person on Earth he would have chosen to discuss it, knowing well that he would, soon or later, lose the argument in front of her always persuasive ways.

"That is not of your concern?" he said evading her insistent eyes, fearing that she would end up trespassing the borders of his most private secrets if he sustained her glance for longer.

Despite his reluctance, his heart forced him to remember that unresolved matter he had left behind in New York the previous year.

When Terri had returned to America after his fatherʼs funerals and the days he had spent in Scotland, his mother had invited him to have dinner with her certain evening. Mother and son had not seen each other for months. Terry had been busy with his Hamlet, Susannahʼs illness and death and finally his trip to England, while his mother had also been traveling in a tour all over the West of the country.

The evening had passed in a relaxed atmosphere, not many words had been uttered but then again, that was the way mother and son usually communicated, saying more with their silences than with their words. It was as though the long years of separation they had endured during Terriʼs childhood, had helped them to develop a silent language. Nevertheless, Eleanor felt in that tacit dialogue that despite his apparent clam, her sonʼs soul was still in mourn, as it had been for years.

Eleanor knew well the source of her childʼs pains but could not understand why he did not do anything to release himself from such a heavy load. For long time she had kept her opinion for herself, conscious of her sonʼs tendency to hide his feelings from everyone, even from her. But that evening she perceived such a sadness in Terri that she couldnʼt refrain from talking.

"Terri," she had finally ventured to say, "May I ask you something, son?"

"Yes," he had answered while drinking the plain water of his glass.

"How long do you plan to be in mourning?" she asked looking at her sonʼs black tailored suit.

"Iʼm not in mourning, mother" he replied leaving the table, a little afraid that her mother would dare to mention the topic he was not willing to discuss, "Iʼm wearing black because I like it."

Terri had sat on the large sofa in his motherʼs living room hoping that the actress did not insist in the conversation, but his hopes proved wrong.

"Then, Terri," she continued, "How long are you going to wait before you start getting a life of your own. It is time to leave all those bad memories about Susannah, behind. Donʼt you think so?" she wondered laying a hand on the young manʼs shoulders while she sat by his side on the elegant couch.

"Well, I have new projects, if that is what you mean" he responded without looking at his mother directly in her greenish blue eyes.

"Do your projects include love, son?" she dared to ask.

As if he had been pinched on a aching wound, Terri had stood up and moved to the window, not able to stay at ease, chased by his motherʼs concern.

"No mother, I donʼt include love in my plans," he had finally said melancholically while looking absentmindedly through the window panes.

"Terri…" the woman had doubted but finally gathered the courage to express her thoughts, "have you ever reconsidered to look for her . . ?"

"I donʼt know who are you talking about," he had answered violently turning his head to give his mother one of his threatening glares.

Eleanor Baker was usually a kind and soft mannered woman, but she had struggled terribly to join the bravery to talk to her son and since she had started she planned to continue the discussion to the very end.

"Yes, Terri, you do know very well who I am talking about." She said in an energetic tone that she rarely used outside the stage, "You know it because there is not other woman you think about, but her"

"I donʼt want to continue this conversation, mother," he warned her, still controlling his temper. He was not willing to go through the painful explanation of Candyʼs engagement, believing in the bottom of his heart that the sorrows we donʼt confess hurt less because we just pretend they are not there.

"But I do think we must talk now," insisted Eleanor.

"Please mother, I plead you to understand," he replied with his last remain of patience.

"Understand?" she had asked stunned, "I struggled to understand and respect your decisions in the past, though I utterly suffered seeing you devastated. I tried to respect your insane sense of duty, I even did my best to accept your engagement."

"You never liked Susannah, didʼt you?" he had said desperately trying to deviate the direction of the conversation.

"No, I didnʼt, that is the truth," she had responded with serious air. "I could have never liked someone who was making you suffer in such a way, son. Iʼm not the possessive kind of mother, God knows that I let you go when your father promised me you would have a better future by his side, it is not now, when you are already a grown up, that I would start being jealous. If you had loved Susannah I would have supported and approved your engagement with her, just as I approved your relationship with…"

"Shut up!" he cried not letting her mention the name that tormented him as a knife stabbing his heart. "Do not ever say her name. Never!"

"But Terry," the woman insisted as her delicate features showed her confusion and pain, "I donʼt understand why you punish yourself this way when you could take a train to Chicago and look for your happiness. I know you still . . ."

"THAT IS ENOUGH MOTHER!" he shouted, ire drawn in his face as his mother had not seen it in years. "I said I didnʼt want to talk about this because there is not sense in doing it. The past is over and now I have to look ahead, and in my future I can only see this," he concluded as he took out of his jacket a piece of paper that he handed to his mother.

Eleanor read the paper not giving credit to her eyes. When she lifted those still beautiful blue stars of her eyes, they were drowned in tears as her shaking hand let the paper fall to the floor.

"What have you done, my son?" she said with a medley of sorrow and anger, "Why do you point to death, when you could face to life, Terri?"

"I have enrolled to defend this country that I have adopted as mine, because it is also yours, because I was born here and it is here where I have found my own way." he said vehemently, "but I can see that you donʼt approve my patriotism as you donʼt seem to approve any decision I make!" he burst angrily.

"How could I approve such an insanity?!" she cried in despair, "How do you dare to ask a mother to accept that her only son is going to war!!! You are cruel, Terri, so cruel!!" she concluded breaking into bitter tears.

"Then, perhaps the world would be better if I disappeared from it" he had replied acridly as he walked to the front door, searching the car keys in his pocket.

"Where are you going, Terri?" the woman asked in almost a yell when she realized that the young man was leaving.

"We already had dinner and since Iʼm leaving next week, I have many affairs to arrange before that day!"

"Wait a minute, Terri!" the woman had cried running behind the young man and managing to grab his arm. "Why do you just run to your destruction, Terri, my son?"

"Because inside here," he had said pointing to his chest "Iʼm already dead, mother. Who knows, this war might give my life some sense."

"I canʼt accept this, you are wrong, Terry, so wrong" she said between sobs, " You are running to the opposite direction. It is to Candy you should have headed!"

The name had finally been said. Those two brief syllables penetrated Terriʼs ears and the anger he had repressed during all that discussion overflowed at last.

"I TOLD YOU TO SHUT UP!" he yelled loosing his arm from his motherʼs grip. "When will you learn to respect my decisions!? You donʼt have any idea about the things that had happened. You have no right to lecture me!"

"I have the right and the obligation to warn you about your own mistakes, son!" she said in a last attempt to appeal to Terriʼs common sense.

"You are a few years too late, mother," he replied caustically, "Good bye!"

And with those last words he had left the house and jumped in his car, deaf to his motherʼs pleas, blinded by his own pain.

Having misunderstood his motherʼs motives he had left America without seeing her again, feeling that even his mother was unable to understand him and longing for the only soul he had met, that had reached him in a way that no other had been able to. Yet, in those days, he believed that even Candy had turned her back on him marrying another man. The worst of all that was that he couldnʼt set the blame of such a misfortune but on himself. He had been the one who let her go.

Terri had not addressed a single note to his mother in all the time he had been in France, and during the first months he had deliberately refused to think about the matter. However, since he had seen Candy again the previous winter, he had not been able to ignore the memory of that last argument with the actress. He couldnʼt forget how insistently she had begged him to look for Candy, and he obviously felt terribly stupid when he realized that his mother had been right.

Nevertheless, the young man had never been good at the difficult art of apologizing, thus had not found the spirit to write a letter expressing his regrets for his behavior, recognizing his mistakes. And now, the only person on Earth who had the power to make him do what he had avoided so far, was about to find out his sin.

"Terri," Candy insisted, "donʼt you hear me?"

"Err, yes," he stuttered as Candyʼs voice brought him back to the present.

"Then answer to my question," the young woman said purposefully, plunging in Terri the green fire of her pupils, "Why donʼt you write to your mother?"

"Well, I havenʼt had the time," he responded without thinking what he was saying and noticing a second after how stupid his excuse had been.

"You must take me by an idiot, Terri!" Candy retorted visibly annoyed, "Youʼve been on bed for over a month and now you tell me that you havenʼt had the time. Could you just explain to me since when you became so ungrateful and uncaring with your mother?"

Terriʼs internal voices cried him loudly: "Come on, surrender, you know she is right!", but his pride woke up with stronger force, yelling at him, "If you give in right now youʼll be writing that letter this very night, and that is something you donʼt want to do, do you?"

"I see that you have not changed a bit, Candy," he finally replied with a smirk, "you keep on being the same meddler I first met. Could you just mind in your own business instead of playing the busy girl all the time?"

"Oh really?" she responded as her blood began to boil in her veins, "You have not changed a big deal either, you are still the same conceited and self-centered brat who treats his mother as if she were made out of stone. Has it come to your mind that she could be suffering utterly, fearing that the worst has happened to you?"

"You donʼt know anything about the things that had happened between my mother and I, you donʼt have any right to talk to me like that!" he burst angrily, "And if I am just a conceited brat, could you tell me what you once saw in such a guy that made me believe that you cared for me?"

"That is exactly what Iʼm wondering now, Terrence!" she answered acridly as she stood up from the bench, not realizing how her last words had hurt Terri, "I thought you would have matured a little bit in all this time but I see I was wrong. All right, if you want to spend your life pushing away that wonderful woman that your mother is, have it your way, you silly!" and saying this conclusive last sentence Candy turned her back and began to walk away.

"Hey you freckled nurse!" he shouted with upset tone, "Are you going to leave me here? How do I come back to bed?"

"You already know the way" she finally said as she disappeared in the hospital corridors leaving behind a young man having the worst tantrum of his entire life.

​

"How can he be such an idiot?!" Candy thought the following morning while she played with her breakfast, not really willing to eat it, "After all these years and he still doesnʼt get what a great woman his mother is. If he only knew . . . but I canʼt tell him, I canʼt"

Candyʼs mind flew back three years before, when she had seen Terri working with a traveling theatre group, totally drunk and quite far from the brilliant actor she knew he could be. The mere remembrance of the occasion made the young woman feel the deepest sadness and she had wanted to retreat her mind from the memories, but the machine of her heart was already on and wouldnʼt obey to her commands.

She felt again the dark despair, the helplessness, the frustration, and yes, even a sort of defeat melted with incomprehensible guilt. She had seen with the eyes what her heart refused to believe, the ironic view of a young man that looked pitifully devastated and shamefully lost in alcoholism, not even a shadow of the outstanding performer he had been since the young age of seventeen.

The disbelief, the frank denial, were followed by a feeling of disappointment and for brief moments she had felt betrayed by the man she loved. Whereas he had promised her that he would be happy, he was destroying his career and his life in the bottom of a bottle of cheap whisky. How did he dare?! . . . . But the resentment could not last long in a heart that was full of love and later she blamed their destiny for forcing both of them into such a dilemma. She even wondered if she had made the right decision back there in New York.

However, the complex mixture of feelings did not end there, like in a Mary-go-round, she turned her pain into anger towards the crowd that disrespectfully booed at him. Yet, seconds after, the miracle happened and all of a sudden he had come back to his sense, performing as he only knew how to do it. That incredible gesture from him had given her courage to step back again and go out of the theatre before her forces had been reduced to nothing and she could not resist the temptation of talking to him after the show. There was no use of another sweetly bitter encounter that would only end in a new separation. Candy was positively sure that their relationship had been a dream from which both of them had already waken up. Dreams fade and harsh reality strikes our faces. That had been the hard lesson that life had taught her, over and over, after each unfortunate turn of fate.

It was then when she had seen Eleanor Baker. The poor woman had left her work in New York to follow her son in his mad wandering, hoping that she could find the way to help him out of that nightmare in which he had plunged himself. Yet, she had not found the force to confront the young man, fearing his immediate rejection and total refusal to be helped by anyone. The actress believed that if Terri found out that her mother was aware of his downfall that would cause him even more pain and shame, thus she had limited herself to follow him and attend to his performance every night, not finding the way to assist her son.

But that very evening, things had gone differently and in the darkness the woman had found a reason for the sudden change in her son, whilst he performed on stage. There, standing in the crowd, there was a figure with unruly golden locks that she would never forget. Eleanor Baker understood immediately, better than the young couple, what had happened in that theatre.

Candy remembered clearly her interview with the actress minutes after Terriʼs performance. She could not erase from her mind how earnestly the older woman had insisted that Terri had surely seen her in the dimness of the theatre. Eleanor believed that it had been the young womanʼs presence which had inspired the sudden changed in the young man, but Candy did not give credit to such speculation.

"Even if he didnʼt see you clearly," the actress had argued, "He must have understood in that moment that the woman he truly loves is you."

The young woman could not avoid to shed a couple of hidden tears over her breakfast as she remembered those words in Terriʼs motherʼs lips. How she wished that they could be true then, when life had brought the two of them together once more. But Terriʼs reaction to her questioning the previous evening made her believed that she did not mean to him what she had in the past.

"Oh Mrs. Baker!" she thought sadly, "Iʼm afraid that despite the years I donʼt know Terri any better. He is so sweet with me at times, and the minute later he becomes an impregnable fortress I cannot trespass. And then, those traces of bitterness and melancholy in the bottom of his eyes when he believes I am not looking at him. What is it? Why does he always have to be so puzzling!" she complained internally, "If only I could tell him how worried his mother was in that occasion," she continued in her thoughts, "maybe he could understand how deeply she must be suffering now, as well, …But I canʼt tell Terri that I saw him in that theatre, he would feel embarrassed, perhaps ashamed, . . .I canʼt use that argument!"

The young woman left the fork aside in a visible gesture of frustration but a second later, a firm resolution took form in her mind.

"If he doesnʼt write that letter, I will do it!" she told herself remembering that Terriʼs mother had written down her address for the young woman to keep it, and so she had done. She surely had it in the old address book she always carried with her.

"And how do I explain to Terriʼs mother that he doesnʼt want to write to her?" she wondered, "Iʼll have to lie then…Oh Terri, if you only werenʼt so difficult!" she thought while resting her rosy cheek on her left palm with a sad expression on her beautiful features.

"Why so sad this morning?" asked a familiar male voice behind her.

Candy rose her eyes to find a couple of light gray irises that looked at her with profound affection.

"Well, I guess sometimes our work is a little disappointing," she lied to the smiling Yves she had in front of her.

The young man sat down in the empty place next to Candy and set the tray with his own breakfast over the table.

"Tell me about it!" he said chuckling, "that is why we have to find the time to amuse ourselves and forget, at least for a while, about the heavy responsibilities that medicine forces us to carry on our shoulders. Donʼt you think so?" he added with a smile.

"You are right!" she admitted with sad inflexions in her voice.

"Then, what about my invitation?" he asked casually, "The 14th of July is in two days more and you havenʼt told me anything about it yet."

Candy had thought about Yvesʼ invitation in several occasions, and somehow she felt reluctant to accept it. In the bottom of her heart the young woman knew that the more time she gave to that uncertain relationship with the young doctor, the more they would hurt each other at the very end. Before Terri had reappeared in her life that winter night, when destiny had brought her to the American camp, she had imagined that despite her broken heart, there could be a remote possibility of a relationship with Yves. But since that night, she couldnʼt think of anybody but Terrence. His presence in the hospital was a daily reminder of the undying feelings that he inspired in her, a constant proof of her incapability to love another man. Nevertheless, she felt lonely and the confusing feelings that exploded in her when she was near Terri, though seductive, didnʼt help a lot to diminish her anguish. On the contrary, Yvesʼs company had always brought her peace. Perhaps if she only got away for one day, she could reorder her thoughts to face that difficult issue of Terry and his mother . . .

"Well, Yves," she began with hesitant words, "I have thought that it could be a good idea to accept you invitation . . ."

"Really?" the young man said not able to hide his joy.

"Err . . .actually, yes, but" she went on.

"But?"

"I was thinking that it could be a good idea if we took Flammy with us, because, you see…"

"What??" the young man asked astonished, disbelief drawn in his features.

"Well, Yves," Candy struggled to explain her motives, " Flammy has been working very hard lately, doubling turns over and over and she will finally have the day off this July the 14th, just as I will, and she told me the other day that she would love to go out. I didnʼt mention her that you had already invited me and…well…I kind of…" the young woman continued with doubtful tone as she saw the expression in the doctorʼs face, " I was thinking that we…I mean, Flammy and I, could go with you….Would that be fine for you?"

Going out chaperoned by Flammy Hamilton was not the exact idea that Yves had of a date, and of course, he felt sort of disappointed with Candyʼs suggestion. On the other hand, if he refused to take Flammy with them the so expected date could never come true, because if Candy followed her caring nature as she usually did, she would end up spending the day with the "poor lonely Flammy" instead of going out with him….and there was also the perennial danger of Grandchesterʼs constant chasing….No! This was an excellent opportunity to catch Candyʼs attention and make her forget about the hideous "ricain" (pejorative name used by French people to refer to Americans).

"I think it could be a good idea," Yves finally said, once his head had pondered all the previous considerations, "Invite her as well, and if she accepts weʼll leave at around 11 or 12 oʼclock so we can have lunch somewhere in "Le Quartier Latin" and then weʼll go to the fair to begin with the fun…Is that right?"

"That sounds great, Yves" Candy said recovering her smile as she forgot for a while her worries about Terri and his mother, "Thank you Yves, you are a doll, my friend" she complimented him as she stood up from the table.

Doctor and nurse left the hospital cafeteria to continue with their work. The rest of the morning they had to face again the everyday tragedy of wounds and death, but in the back of their hearts, other turbulence beyond the war insanity occupied their attention. Though, Yvesʼs and Candyʼs worries, were somehow different from each other.

​

The morning of July 14th was sunshiny and blithe, yet Terri could not appreciate its beauty just as he could not find himself at ease since his last argument with Candy. During four long days his encounters with the young blonde had been cold and distant. Against her usual cheerfulness, Candy had merely addressed to him a few words, and since he did not use the wheel chair any longer the physical contact between them had been almost null. His body ached for the slightest touch just as much as his soul needed to see her smile again. Unfortunately, he knew perfectly well the remedy that could give an end to his troubles, but was not willing to admit defeat writing a letter and spelling out an apology for his unpleasant display of rudeness the evening they had spent in the garden.

The arrogant young man had no idea of the expensive price he would have to pay for his pride until he saw Julienne working in Candyʼs place that morning.

"Good morning Mr. Grandchester. How are you doing?" the woman asked in her musical French accent.

"Where is Candy?" was the first thing that he could say as a response to Julienneʼs greetings, and the woman could not refrain a shy smile of amusement at the young manʼs vehemence.

"Relax, Mr. Grandchester," she replied with a giggle, "Everybodyʼs favorite nurse is just taking a day off today. I know it might seem weird but even devoted nurses as Candy, need a break from time to time" Julienne suggested while she read the medical report.

"I see," said Terri with such a disappointed tone that moved the womanʼs heart to the core.

"If he knew what Candy is doing today, I think this poor man would either burst into tears or get on a rage." She thought while serving the breakfast, "But on second thoughts, it serves his right for being so stubborn" she concluded remembering what Candy had told her about her last argument with Terri.

Julienne finished her work with the young aristocrat and continued with her daily routine leaving Terri in his dark deliberations.

Terri tried to take a morning nap but it was useless; then he attempted to read the newspaper to follow the Alliesʼ moves on the Western Front, but he did not get to concentrate his attention in the reading; finally, he decided to stand up and have a look through his window to see if he found anything to amuse himself. He would soon find out that it was not a good idea either.

Just a few minutes after the young man had sat down by the window, his eyes witnessed how two young ladies with cute boaters and white dresses jumped into an open car. He could distinguish the brown strands on one of the girlsʼ back, but the shade of a branch didnʼt allow him to see the other girl clearly. Then, he saw a dark haired man in the driverʼs seat and he immediately recognized Yves on a impeccable beige suite. A bad presentment stroke his heart and he looked again at the second young woman, this time the light shone on her head as she took off her hat to use it as a fan, discovering a golden mane arranged in a pony tail that reached the girlʼs waist. It was Candy!!!

All of a sudden the unpleasant reality sunk in Terriʼs mind: Candy, his Candy, was going out on July the 14th, the most important national holiday in France, with the obnoxious frenchy!!!

Seized by a rage outburst he pressed with nervous fingers the button that would call the nurse in turn, a minute later Julienne was by his side asking if he had any problems.

"Yes, Mr. Grandchester? How can I help you?" she said in her usual sweet tone.

"Could you explain to me, just as if I were a six year old," he began , annoyance reflected in his every word, "what the heck is Candy doing downstairs in Yves Bonnotʼs car?" he asked pointing to the window.

Julienne opened her light brown eyes widely as she laughed inwardly at Terriʼs reaction. "Mon Dieu," she told herself, "Il est tellement jaloux!" ( Oh My, he is really jealous!).

"Well, err..umm…" she stammered, nor really knowing what answer she could give to such question, "I heard that Flammy and Candy would go with Yves to the 14th of Julyʼs celebration. They must be heading to "La rive gauche" right now. Itʼs a holiday today, you know" she concluded with her most innocent tone.

"Bull shit! I know well it is a holiday today!" he exploded enraged, "What I want to know is how come that she is going out with that bloody frog eater!!!!"

"Mister Grandchester!!!" screamed Julienne shocked by the young manʼs language, "I must remind you that I understand English well enough to resent your usage of vulgar language. And if you referred to Yves with that pejorative nick name because he is French, then I feel equally offended!" she ended in indignation.

Terri recognized then that once more he had let his temper go off limits and felt terribly ashamed of his behavior.

"I apologize, Madame Boussenières," he said lowering his head, "It was not my intention to offend your sensibility. Iʼm afraid that my temper betrays me too often. Would you please excuse my rudeness?" he pleaded with so sincere voice that Julienne couldnʼt avoid to forgive him.

"All right, Mr. Grandchester, as long as it doesnʼt occur again, I accept your apologies," she replied, "And as far as Candy is concerned, I donʼt think you should make such a fuss. She is just going out with some friends during her free day. Perhaps you should take advantage of this time to reflect a bit," she ventured to suggest surprising Terri with her comments, and later she concluded, "Now, if you donʼt need me here, I must continue with my duties," she said as she left the young man alone.

"Moi, je te comprends maintenant, Candy!" Julienne thought while she walked away, "Il est presque impossible se résister à ce jeune homme!"(Now I understand you, Candy ! It is almost impossible to resist to this young man). Behind the young woman, a troubled and frustrated aristocrat grumbled bitterly against his own pride, burning slowly in the flames of the most ferocious jealousy.

The cleaning lady, who once more had witnessed the whole scene, smiled slightly as she thought:

"Gentil médicine, un; bel Américain, un: match nul" she chuckled softly. (Gentle doctor, one ; handsome American, one : tie )

The old lady raised her eyes from the mop. She saw how the young man took a pen and a block of paper from the night tableʼs drawer, and he began to write. He stayed in the same position for a long time until he finished a long letter. As if the task had required a lot of effort, once he had concluded his writing, he lied down and fell asleep.

​

The same story of previous days started to be replayed the following morning when Candy entered again in Terriʼs ward. She greeted him with the same cold tone, fixed her eyes to the medical report and addressed to the young man using monosyllabic words. God knew how difficult it was for Candy to pretend indifference towards the man she loved, but she was determined to push him until he finally admitted defeat and accepted to write to his mother. Yet, the young woman did not have any idea of how effective and fast her efforts had already been.

Taking advantage of Candyʼs faked concerned for the medical report, Terri studied the lines of her face carefully. He was still tremendously jealous of Yves, who had enjoyed the view of her beautiful presence for a whole day. But if he was honest with himself, Terri had to admit that it had been all his bad temperʼs fault. He amazed himself for having been able to resist Candyʼs coldness for almost a week, but he was not willing to continue in the same way for the rest of his life. In fact, he was ready to make peace with the young woman right there and then. Therefore, he took a deep breath and finally spoke.

"Candy," he started.

"Yes?" was the young womanʼs single answer while she looked at the thermometer as though it were the most important thing on Earth.

"I think that I need a favor from you," he said in his sweetest tone, unknowingly tearing down the first defenses of Candyʼs barricades.

"What kind of favor?" said the blonde trying to hide her emotions.

"I need someone to post a letter for me," he replied with the same mellow voice.

Candyʼs eyes left the instrument in her hands to focus directly, for the first time in days, in the young manʼs face. She addressed a mute question with her glance that Terry immediately understood.

"Yes," he answered audibly, "I have written to my mother, as you suggested" he concluded waiting to see the young womanʼs reaction to his words, and it did not make him wait for long. In a few seconds the last barriers had melted its icy walls and then again the same sweet Candy he had always known, was looking at him with her usual kindness.

"Oh, Terri, Iʼm so glad that you had reconsidered your position!" she started to say with her singing voice, "Where is the letter?" she asked.

"In the drawer," he replied pointing to the table with his right thumb.

The young woman moved her hand to reach for the drawerʼs handle but when it was already on it, before she could pull the drawer, Terriʼs hand intercepted hers with a tight hold.

"Candy," he murmured, "I . . . I want also to apologize," he said with difficulty.

The young nurse immediately understood the manʼs huge struggle and welcomed his words with such a caring look that Terri could not ignore.

"You were right, Candy" he continued talking, encouraged by her attitude, " Iʼm just a conceited brat, too proud to write a letter to my own mother saying how sorry I feel for being so cruel at her when I decided to enroll in the Army. She was worried about me and I took her concern as disapproval."

"It is fine, Terri," Candy said secretly enjoying Terriʼs touch, which she had awfully missed during all the previous days, "You donʼt owe me any explanations about the things that had happened between you and your mother,"

"I believe I do," he went on, "as I also believe that I have also to ask for your pardon, for being so rude with you the other evening. You were just trying to help, as you always do, and I treated you disrespectfully. Would you please forgive me?" he asked with pleading eyes while he earnestly took Candyʼs hands in his.

If the young woman was still reluctant before that last plea, after Terri had looked at her in such a way, she was totally melted.

"I was also rude at you and said a few things that . . I didnʼt really feel," she replied with a sad smile, " Iʼll forgive you if you do forgive me in return. Deal?" she tried to joke in order to overcome the deep atmosphere of intimacy that had suddenly grown around them.

"Deal! Here is the letter" he responded taking by himself the envelope from the drawer and handing it in to the young woman, who simply put the letter in her pocket and continued her work with her patient.

"Tell me something," Terri asked a few minutes later, while Candy was sat on a near by chair writing on the medical report.

"What?"

"What would you have done if I had never written that letter?" he asked mischievously.

The young woman stood up holding her files and gave a wide smile to the young man.

"The question is not what I would have done," she responded as she began to walk away very slowly," but what I did"

"What did you do, Candice White?" asked Terri guessing a mischief in her look.

"I wrote to your mother three days ago, Terri" she finally said bluntly.

Terri was totally dumfounded with her answer, for a few seconds he tried to find the best way to respond to her boldness but only one question could come to his lips.

"How come you sent her a letter? How did you know her address?" he asked confused.

"That, my dear friend," Candy replied with a dazzling smile while she went out of the ward, "is a girlʼs secret."

Terri let escape a deep sigh as he looked at the young woman disappearing behind the door way. The young man threw his head over the pillow feeling how a sweet sensation of relief invaded his mind and soul. It really didnʼt matter how Candy had got his motherʼs address He really didnʼt care that she had again intruded in his life sending a letter without his authorization. In fact, he was delighted to realize how concerned she was about him.

What it really mattered to him in that moment was that the barriers between them had finally been torn down. . . It had not been that difficult after all . . . . If only it were that easy to confess that the argument they have had the other day was not the only thing he regretted. . . But . . . How do you say to your former girlfriend that you are terribly sorry for letting her go? How do you confess that you never got over her? . . . .

 

[domniki]

CHAPTER TWELVE

​

​

Lost Chances.

​

​

Crying in the rain


I’ll never let you see


The way my broken heart


Is hurting me.


I’ve got my pride


and I know how to hide


all the sorrow and pain.


I’ll do my crying in the rain….


If I wait for a cloud in the sky,


you won’t know the rain’s


from the tears in my eyes.


You’ll never know


that I still love you so,


though the heart aches remain


I’ll do my crying in the rain

​

The Everly Brothers

​

Liza Loka stretched herself over the large and soft bed. Her auburn hair bathed the silks of her pillow and as she breathed deeply, the young woman could perceive the wooden fragrance that Buzzy had left over the bedcovers and on her skin. The girl’s maroon eyes shone in pleasure at the memory of the previous night she had spent with the young man. Buzzy was, without question, the best lover she had ever had.

A shy knock at the door announced the arrival of her breakfast and she sat down to receive the maid. It was almost midday and she was terribly hungry. A young woman with black uniform and white apron came into the room with a large tray. Fruit, some oatmeal, a toast with blueberries jam and a glass with orange juice made the lady’s breakfast. On one side of the tray the newspaper and a tabloid devoted to celebrities awaited their turn to please the young woman with some juicy gossip.

Liza took the tabloid in one hand and the orange juice in the other, not even paying attention to the young woman who served her. Miss Loka never addressed her voice to the servants to thank them for their services. She only talked to them to command. Suddenly, the girl’s brown eyes were captured by the photo of an attractive young man on the first page.

"Terrence Grandchester . . . Dead in battle?" was the article’s suggestive title below the photo.

Liza left the glass aside and read the news with avid eyes. The article explained that after a year of being in France nobody knew anything about the young actor, not even his friend and business partner , Robert Hathaway, or his mother. The journalist speculated that Grandchester could have been taken as prisoner or killed in battle.

"This is a good piece of news for Neil!" thought Liza with a smirk on her lips. "So sorry for you Terri, dear, but it serves your right for being so stupid! Oh Candy, you are a burden to the men you love . . .All of them die! What a disgrace you are!"

 


That very same morning, but a few hours earlier, William Albert Audrey was already working in his office and waiting for his nephew Archibald, who was beginning to get involved in the family business. The young tycoon, dressed in an impeccable dark gray suit with bow tie, looked at the newspapers, concentrating on the finances section with all his might. The day outside was beautifully sunny and he had been tempted to leave his duties aside to go for a ride along his vast property in Chicago. But if he wanted to accomplish his goal soon, he had to work steadily and without rest. He could see that the end of the war was coming, and with it, the door that leaded to his freedom was beginning to open.

Before plunging in his work, Albert had read with great amusement an article on certain tabloid that George had brought for him, thinking that the piece of news could interest his boss. The young man’s cerulean eyes had laughed with the sensationalist note. He had very good reasons to not pay attention to the speculations presented there.

On one of his desk’s drawers, kept with a pile of other letters written with a feminine style, there was a new missive that had just arrived from France a few days before. In it, his dear protégée told him the story of her surprising reencounter with Terrence. Therefore, he knew well that his old friend was not only alive, but in the best hands he could ever be. However, since Candy had asked him to keep Terri’s presence in the hospital in secret, Albert had not said a word to anybody about the curious incident.

"I only hope that they can take advantage of this marvelous chance," thought the young man with an optimistic smile.

A middle age woman dressing a maid uniform came into the large bedroom with agitated gait. Inside the chamber, on an elegant bed with canopy and covered with delicate lace and silk sheets, a blond woman in her early forties rested with a book in her hands.

"Madame, Madame!" called the woman, "You won’t believe this! Oh my goodness!"

"What is going on Felicity?" wondered the lady on the bed, alarmed by the maid’s vehemence.

"Two letters, Madame! From France!" answered the maid gasping.

 


Eleanor Baker’s face lit at the sound of the word France. The woman got up from her bed abruptly and in a nervous move snatched the papers from her maid’s hands. Yes! It was true! She only needed to look at the first envelope for a fraction of second to understand that it was a letter from her son! After a long year of silence! After all the tears that she had shed every night thinking that he could be dead! After all the times she had been forced to ignore the reporter’s insistent questioning about her son! After all the rumors she had endured, which speculated about the young actor’s possible death! . . . Finally, a letter from France was in her hands!

The woman crushed the letters against her breast, still too overwhelmed to open the envelope of the first missive.

"Aren’t you going to read the letter, Madame?" asked Felicity moved and sincerely worried for her mistress’s son.

Without answering audibly, the woman took her son’s letter and nervously opened the envelope. Her iridescent eyes devoured anxiously every word while the tears rolled over her cheeks.

"How is the young Mr. Grandchester?" asked the maid urgently, "Is he all right Madame?"

"He has been wounded!" said the woman in a suffocated cry.

"God heavens! God heavens!" exclaimed the maid with great alarm.

"But he is recovering, Felicity. He says that he is fine!" informed the actress and then remained silent for a good while. More tears bathed her fair face.

"What else does he say madam?" demanded the maid with the confidence that she had after having worked for Mrs. Baker for over 20 years. Felicity, more than a servant, had been a friend and a shoulder to cry for the famous actress. She had been with her during the difficult days of Eleanor’s pregnancy, she had stood by her side when Eleanor suffered the pain of losing her son, and had been a companion during the long years of loneliness the actress had lived as a consequence of the fame she enjoyed. "Please, Madame, do you want to kill my poor heart, what else does he say?"

 


"Oh Felicity!" said the woman sobbing openly, "He is begging for my forgiveness! He is saying that he is sorry and ashamed for having left the way he did! I can’t believe what I am reading, Felicity!"

 


"Oh Madame!" the maid gasped, "I knew your son was a kind man and would soon or later recognize he had been unfair with you!"

 


"I know Terri is a good boy! But sometimes he is as stubborn and impossibly proud as his father was! I never thought he would accept his fault! But thanks God he did, and also may the Lord be praised because my son is well and alive!" said the woman folding the letter and putting it back in the envelope after reading several times.

 


"But Madame," objected the maid, " What about the second letter. Who is it from?"

The blond woman took the second missive in her long and white hands and when her eyes saw the sender’s name her beautiful blue irises almost went out of their orbs.


Without answering to Felicity’s insistent questions, Eleanor opened the second letter with the same nervousness and read the content at enormous speed, once, twice and three times before she could utter a word to inform her curious friend.

 


Eleanor took her right hand to her forehead still unbelieving what she had read several times. Her amazement could only be compared to her great joy.

 


"Please Madame, have mercy on me and tell me!" pleaded Felicity at the limit of her resistance.

 


"Dear Felicity, now more than ever I believe in destiny," said the actress, "This letter here is enough explanation of Terri’s repentance. There is only one person on this planet who can have that effect on him. God bless this child who wrote to me. Do you have any idea who she is?"

 


"No!" said Felicity clueless.

 


"The woman in Terri’s heart!"

After the battles on the river Marnes in June, everything started to go wrong for the Germans. The flue attacked the troops and so did hunger and despair. But general Ludendorff was a man who did not give up easily and he prepared a new offensive in two directions, one over the Reims and the other over Flanders. Nevertheless, General Foch was informed of the enemy’s plans in advance and attacked the Germans before they could start their moves. That was the last time Ludendorff could have the opportunity to lead the offensive. The rest of the year he would have to suffer the powerful counter attack of the French, British and American armies combined forces, all of them aggressively commanded by Ferdinand Foch.

 


The Allies’ objective for the summer of 1918 was to reduce the German lines in three points. One over the region of the river Marnes, the other over the river Amiens some miles to the South of Arras and a third one over Saint Mihiel, near Verdun. By the beginning of the Fall, the names of Arras and Saint Mihiel would have a meaning for Candy’s ears that she did not suspect.

 


During the month of July and until the beginning of August, the American and French Armies fought courageously to chase the enemy from the region of the Marnes, obtaining a great success. The Germans retreated towards the North and by the first week of August the menace over the French capital was just part of history. Paris was bubbling over with joy and all the Allied countries felt, for the first time in four years, that victory was close. On August the 6th Ferdinand Foch was made a Marshall of France.

A large man dressed in black walked along the Hospital corridors carrying a bag and looking all around like searching for a place. His dark shinning eyes denoted a clear vivacity whereas his secure steps talked about his self-confidence. The man had a small paper in the left hand which he eyed from time to time as he looked at the number of every ward he walked by. When he reached ward A-12 he stopped immediately and with a slight smile in his lips, he entered in it.

 


The tall bearded man strolled among the beds until he got to the end of the ward. Sat on a chair near a large window, with his feet resting nonchalantly over a night table, another man read the newspaper with apparent interest.

 


"It seems that things are going just fine for the Allies in the Western Front. Isn’t it, sergeant?" asked the man in black suit and at the sound of his deep base voice the man on the chair lifted his eyes from the paper to see the one who had talked to him.

 


"Father Graubner!" said Terrence with a bright smile, "What a nice surprise!" greeted the young man as he slowly removed his feet from the table and tried to stand up.

 


"No, no, Terrence!" hurried the older man to say, "stay just there, you should take care of your moves, son."

 


Notwithstanding the priest’s concern, Terry took the cane which was resting on the wall next to him and with proud movements stood up to greet his friend.

 


"As you can see, father, " he explained shaking Graubner’s hand, "I’m quite fine for someone who almost kicked the bucket. I just limp a bit but it will pass soon. Excuse my rudeness and have a sit, please" offered the young man pointing to the chair and taking himself a place on the bed.

 


"How impressive!" chuckled the priest sitting down and leaving on the floor the bag he was carrying, "Of all the things I have seen in this war, your recovery is one of the happiest ones," he said gaily. "I’m really glad to see you well and kicking."

 


"So do I, father, so do I," laughed Terrence, "but tell me, how come you’re here in Paris? I thought you were still in the Front"

 


Suddenly the priest’s face turned serious as he let escape a sigh.

 


"Well, son," he explained, "I must be getting old, just that. Our suspicious doctor Norton found out a little problem with this heart of mine and sent a letter to my superiors spilling all the beans. That meddling doctor!" complained the man. "They sent me back immediately and at the present they are trying to figure out what they will finally do with me, now that Medicine says that I can’t be traveling all around the Mediterranean," chuckled the priest making fun of himself.

 


"I’m sorry to hear that," said Terri with concern.

 


"Don’t be sorry, Terrence," replied the priest nodding, "It might be good for me to settle down . .. who knows? They might even give me a parish after all these years of wandering!" he added smiling, "but it is not to talk about me that I’ve come to. Your superiors were about to send you all your stuff and I offered myself to do it, so here it is," said the older man pointing to the bag.

 


The young actor addressed his big light eyes to the object on the floor and a beam of pleasant surprise shone in the blue surface.

 


"I can see that you’re happy to see your belongings," commented Graubner pleased for having been useful, "Now, after all the work I underwent for your sake, Terrence," kidded the priest, "May I know what you have in that bag? Rocks, perhaps?"

 


The young man chortled at the priest’s remark asking him for help to open the bag.

"Let me show you, father," said Terry with the bright face of a kid who opens a Christmas present.

 


He got his hand into the bag searching anxiously for an object until he felt the pleasure of a polished surface. His fingers caressed the metallic object appeasing his fear of having lost his little treasure. Once he was sure his musical token was in its place he got out one book, and a second one, and a third one . . .Soon, over the bed, there was a small collection of theatrical scripts and a leathered file with a bunch of papers, some of them blank, some others scratched with an elegant masculine handwriting.

 


The priest looked at the scripts with amazed eyes.

 


"Are you studying all these plays, Terrence?" asked Graubner stunned by the selection.

"Well, just one or two characters from each one," responded the young man casually.

"One or two!" said Graubner amazed, "You must have a prodigious memory."

 


"That is an understatement when talking about an actor, father," replied Terri with simplicity, "one can’t afford the luxury of forgetting a line, especially when performing classical plays. Besides, we are supposed to have an ample repertoire, the more roles we know by heart, the best."

 


"I see," said the priest looking at the tittles, "Oh Rostand!" exclaimed the man delighted to find a French writer in the young man’s selection, "Don’t tell me that you want to play Cyrano? I don’t think you would fit the character . . ."

 


"Why not?" asked Terri entertained with the priest’s interest in his second favorite topic.

 


"Umm. . . I’m afraid your looks are too good for the role . . . and perhaps your nose lacks . . . of size, shall I say?" the man laughed.

 


"You’re funny, father!" smiled the young man showing his white perfect teeth, "But you would be surprised at the wonders that good make up can work, helping a short-nosed actor, like me."

 


The two men continued laughing and joking as the priest revised the other plays.

 


"The Lady from the Sea and Brand, by Ibsen; Julius Cesar by Shakespeare, A woman of no Importance by Wilde," read the older man, "I can see that you’ve got a taste for social critique and tragedy," he commented.

 


Terry just shrunk his shoulders in a nonchalant gesture.

 


"Oh Salomé!" cried Graubner with dreamy face, "I remember when Oscar Wilde presented this play here in Paris long time ago, the great Sarah Bernhardt played the main role. It was the apotheosis, especially because Wilde took the work of writing the original manuscript in French!"

 


"Were you there at the premiere, father?" asked Terri interested . . . and the conversation went on for a good while about that historical event.

 


"You know father," said Terry casually, later on, "I wasn’t planning to bring all this with me to France, but my director and partner practically forced me to do it. I think it was his personal way to tell me that he expected to have me back."

 


"Then he must appreciate your work," suggested the older man.

 


"Yes, and he is also a good friend," added Terri remembering Robert Hathaway’s kindness, "He was the only person who believed in me when I was just less than nobody."

 


"I understand . . .. Hey! What’s this? The taming of the shrew?" asked the priest confused, "This play breaks with the mood of all the others!"

 


"That was Robert’s choice," admitted Terri, smiling, "He said I would be perfect in the role of Petruchio, but back then I didn’t like the idea quite much . . .yet now . . .it is different" he added with a sparkling luster in his eyes, "Now, I think I like the idea of doing some comedy as well . . ."

 


"Oh my! Oh my!" chuckled Graubner, "What’s going on here, Terrence? You’ve certainly changed in these two months!"

 


"Well father," said Terri turning his face to the ward’s door way, "you’re about to know the reasons of my sudden changes . . . Father? Have you ever seen an angel?" he asked in a mischievous whisper.

 


"Certainly not!" smiled the priest intrigued, "I’m afraid I haven’t been as saint as one should be to gain such a grace."

 


"All right," said Terry amusedly, "get prepared because these sort of chances are given very rarely to human eyes," he added pointing to the entrance.

 


From the doorway, moving spontaneously in her bluish uniform with white apron and her trademark golden hair pulled into a bun, appeared Candice White pushing the lunch cart.

Even from the distance Graubner understood in one single glance who the young lady was. The description given by Terrence back in the dark trench, the previous day to the Battle of the River Marnes, had been so precise and detailed that it was not difficult for the smart man to recognize the young woman; notwithstanding that he had never seen her in his entire life.

 


"She is . . ." mumbled the older man not able to recover himself from his astonishment.

 


"Yes, father," whispered Terry proudly, "My angel!"

 


"What an amazing coincidence!" was the first thing Graubner could say, but a second after he was correcting himself, "or maybe, it was not a coincidence . . ."

 


The young woman finally reached Terri’s bed finding with surprise that her patient had a visitor . . . and a priest . . . of all people!

 


"Good afternoon!" she greeted with a smile inwardly wandering what a priest could be doing with Terri.

 


"Good afternoon, Miss!" answered Graubner in his usual kind tone.

 


Terri guessed Candy’s confusion and found her bewildered face wonderfully alluring, but despite the pleasure he took in looking at her expression, he hurried to explain the situation.

 


"Candy, this is my friend, father Graubner. I had the honor to meet him in the Front, he was fighting in the war. . . in his own personal style, of course," introduced Terry.

 


"I see," replied Candy with an understanding look. During her time in the field hospital she had become familiar with the priests and preachers that assisted in the Front, thus she somehow started to grasp the meaning of the situation. Yet, it was still difficult for her to comprehend how Terry had become a priest’s friend, when he had never been quite a devoted believer, "My name is Candice White Audrey," she introduced herself.

 


"Erhart Graubner, Miss, I’m really glad to meet you Miss Audrey."

 


Young lady and priest shook hands and instantly a current of sympathy ran between them both. Though, she didn’t stay long with the two men, because she had a thousand other things to do before the end of the shift. So, she soon left them alone again, and they went on with their conversation that had been interrupted by the young woman’s arrival.

 


"What do you think?" was Terri’s first sentence when Candy had already disappeared.

"Um Himmels Willen!" said the man stunned, "Dear friend, if I were 30 years younger and had a different profession I can tell you that I wouldn’t be here advising you on how to get this girl, because I would be thinking of how to get her for myself!" he ended with a spicy smile.

 


"Tell me about it," smirked Terri, "That’s precisely what someone else is doing: working and thinking hard on how to take her away from me."

 


"Oh, I see, " replied the priest, "the young doctor is also around!"

 


"Worse than that!" said Terri frustrated, "He is my doctor! The height of disgrace! But this sort of things only happen to me!"

 


"Come on, come on Terrence!" said Graubner trying to cheer the young man up, "that attitude will not help you at all. Not everything is so bad. Actually, it is more than miraculous that you are alive and that she is near you. Besides, I have another surprise for you," added the man.

 


"What is it?"

 


"Well, I was wondering if you are missing that beautiful emerald ring that you used to have?"

 


"As you can see it," explained Terri showing his naked hand to the priest, "someone must have stolen it when I was unconscious."

 


The priest looked at the young man with an expression of satisfaction on his bearded face.

 


"It is not so, son," Graubner pointed out, "it was me who took it away preventing that someone else weaker than I can be, could fall into temptation. I was planning to find a safe way to send it back to you, but since I’m already here, I’m happy to give it back to you, right in your hands." And saying these last words the man took his right hand to the interior pocket in his black jacket to get the jewel, which he immediately gave to its owner.

 


"Thank you, father!" responded Terry grateful, "I was missing this little thing. It is somehow, meaningful to me."

 


"I’ve just seen the couple of eyes that surely inspired the expensive caprice of getting such a jewel."

 


"You caught me again, father," answered Terri smiling enigmatically.

It was one of those sunny days of August in Paris. Along the park located a couple of blocks from SaintJacquesHospital, a young woman dressed in white was walking slowly with both hands buried in her skirt’s pockets. Even when her straw hat covered her face from the sun rays, it was possible to see that she was deeply sad. A complicated and confusing turmoil of emotions was moving in her soul, new feelings she had not experienced before were tormenting her with keen force.

"Why do I try to fool myself?" Candy thought as she lazily strolled around the park surrounded by oak trees, "No matter how much I struggle to ignore him, he has me twisted around his little finger! At the slightest of his moves I would follow him to the end of the world . . . Ah, Terri, I love you so much!"

 


She sighed melancholically, sitting down on one of the iron benches, shadowed by the green foliage of an ancient oak.

 


"I still remember how hard I tried to forget you, Terry," she thought, "I filled my life with so many things to do that I would always end the day totally exhausted. That way I could finally avoid the long nights in which those thoughts of you kept hammering in my mind again and again. All that hard work and my friends helped a lot to cope with life after our break up, but deep inside me I knew I was incomplete, that something inside was empty . . . dried . . . . dead. . . . and terribly lonely. My poor Annie tried so many things to pair me with all the guys that she knew, but . . . I just can’t be with another man . . . I feel sort of . . . uncomfortable! Like the other day I went out with Yves. It was such a good idea that Flammy went along with us, I don’t know what I would have done if she hadn’t been there. But with you, Terri, everything is so different! Every word we share, each smile, all our glances make me feel as though I had finished a long journey and had finally arrived home . . . Yet! Oh Terri, you are such an enigma!

 


"I’m dying here because of you . . . . and you just seem to play endlessly. A couple of months ago I was optimistic and thought that we might even have a second chance. . . and you have been indeed sweet with me . . . but I just don’t know what you are waiting for, Terri. If only those three little words could be pronounced by your lips you would have me right in your arms without hesitation! How my heart aches to hear from your voice that you still love me, that despite time and distance, you have thought of me just as much as I have constantly thought of you. Even if you were forbidden. But you always beat around the bushes, and I don’t really know what is going on with you . . . Terri, this is so hard to take!"

 


"And these strange feelings in me. They certainly do not help me at all. I simply don’t know what comes over me when you are around! Years ago, in the school, I always denied with all my might that I was attracted to you and didn’t accept it until you had left England. Nevertheless, whatever I felt back then in the Academy, an even after, when I saw you again in New York, all that pales and looks feeble in front of these new confusing feelings that trespass my heart to the core. Terri, Terri! If my soul burns in the fire of hell, yours and only yours all the fault will be! Oh God, why does he have to be so dazzling?!"

Her mind couldn’t forget what had happened a few hours before. She was helping one of her patients, who had been blinded by mustard gas, to write a letter for his family in Canada. The patient’s bed was located quite close to Terri’s place, and from her position, the young woman could see the actor while he quietly studied his dialogues. It was one of those stuffy summery mornings and Terri had taken off his shirt.

 


"Write also," dictated the patient, "that I received all the things they sent me . . ."

 


"Oh yes!" mumbled Candy as her eyes wandered over the well defined muscles bathed by the morning light. Long and strong arms in which she would faint gladly, wide shoulders, slender waist, tanned skin that that she had caressed more than once every time that she had to change the bandages, the brief scar on his right shoulder as a reminder of the bullet . . . and those lips that moved slowly as he memorized the lines, unknowingly teasing her agitated heart. It was then that she felt a jab in her chest.

 


"He is going to look at me in a second!" she thought alarmed by that internal connection she had with him but which she did not recognize.

 


Candy lowered her eyes just a fraction of second before the young aristocrat addressed his blue eyes towards her. She pretended to be fully concentrated in the letter she was writing.

 


The young woman felt her hands falter while she tried desperately to sustain the pen. The force of the man’s sight over her did not allow the young woman to control her anxiety.

 


"Leonard," she said nervously, "Would you please, excuse me? I don’t feel quite well today. Could we finish this letter tomorrow?" she begged and before the young man could say a word Candy had left the ward and was already running through the hospital corridors.

 


"What is happening to me?!" she thought, feeling how her cheeks flushed furiously, "I want to run away and at the same time . . . I can’t stop seeing myself in his arms!"

Sat on the solitary bench, Candy’s mind toyed again with the memory of all the times during those three months that he had hugged her with the excuse of his injured leg. She lived again the emotions, the scent, the warmth, the certainty of her altered pulse. And as she was already defeated by her own feelings, she did not oppose any resistance when her remembrance took her back to the hidden memory of his kiss.

 


"It was six years ago," she continued in her thoughts, "six years and I still feel it on my skin, as though it had happened just a while ago!" she sighed barely grazing her lips with her fingertips, "We were just kids in that time," she thought closing her eyes as her feminine curiosity burned in her with an alarming question, "I wonder . . . I wonder how would you kiss now?" she dared to think amazing herself with her boldness, " And even more . . . I wonder how it would be to live by your side, as I imagined so many times in the past. How would it be like sharing with you every little joy, each distressful trial, your success and your defeat, all those insignificant manias that I know you have, your obsession with the idea of keeping everything in order, your passion for horseback riding, your love for poetry, your insistence in buying a thousand white shirts, in all styles and materials, and that incomprehensible and stubborn habit of teasing me? . . . I’m certain that you would tease me to death, but I’m sure I would enjoy it utterly . . . How would it be to wait for you every evening, share your bread and . . . your bed?! . . . How would it feel waking up in your arms, Terri?" she sighed in ecstasy, but soon a black shadow crossed her malachite eyes, "But in a few days more you’ll certainly leave the hospital and I might not ever see you again. What is it that you have, Terri, that only you can burst inside me this confusing warmth that runs all over my body? How can I feel so happy and depressed at the same time?"

 


"Heavens, Candy, you have certainly lost your mind!" she censured herself feeling the light breeze under the oak tree.

​

The mail had arrived from America since the morning, but Candy decided to keep the letters inside her pocket in order to read them at ease when her turn had ended. During all the morning she looked at her watch repeatedly, and more than once she was tempted to open those envelopes during the day, yet she didn’t yield to her impatience.

After a hard working day the young woman went to her favorite bench in the hospital garden to devour the news in the missives. Her large green eyes shone in joy while she tasted the flavor of the strong ties that united her heart with her beloved friends and adoptive family in the so distant America. With every line, she verified that it didn’t matter how far she could be from home, a little piece of the lake Michigan’s shores would always live in her soul.

 


"Good news?" asked a deep voice behind her and Candy did not have to turn her head to know who was the one talking to her.

 


"Yes, news from home," she answered with a soft smile, "Do you want to hear?" she wondered, finally facing the greenish blue eyes that were in front of her.

 


Terri, in a light blue shirt and beige pants, was standing next to her, slightly resting his weight over a cane. Candy thought that he looked almost completely recovered in that way, and her heart could not avoid an aching twist inside her chest, when she felt again that the imminent separation was closer each day.

 


The young man sat by her side and looked curiously to a large white envelope with an elegant seal on the front.

 


"That one, I must presume, should be from Albert," he said smiling at the memory of the old friend he hadn’t seen in years.

 


"And you are right," responded Candy raising her left eyebrow assenting to Terri’s suspicions.

 


"What does he say?" asked the young actor.

 


All of a sudden, Terri looked into Candy’s eyes and a feeling of déjà vu invaded their hearts. Hadn’t he asked that question about a letter from Albert, long time before?

"Lots of things," she began to explain, trying to appease the thumps in her chest, "You know Terri, I had been worried for Albert during the last couple of years," the young woman said trusting in Terri a secret she had kept just for herself during a long time. Somehow, directing the conversation towards her dear tutor, helped the young woman to forget about other more alarming feelings inside her.

 


"Why?" wondered Terri also interested in finding a way to relax the tension, "Anything wrong with him?"

 


"One thing, Terri," sighed Candy in sad tone, "He is not happy with his life!"

 


"Being a powerful millionaire does not really fit him, does it?" guessed Terri nodding his head in understanding.

 


"Exactly. He has been facing his responsibilities as the head of the family for about three years so far, but it has been almost hell for him. Even though he has never complained about it I know that, deep inside him, he feels that he has betrayed everything he believed in," the young woman pointed out.

 


"I know that feeling," Terry murmured so softly that Candy could barely understand his words, "It is really sad to see how life destroys the dreams of our youth. . . . all those hopes that we once believed were unbeatable!" suggested Terry grievously.

 


"Do not talk like that Terri," she hurried to respond, "I still think that we can always fight for our dreams in the midst of the storm! No matter how hard the others insist that there is no use to keep on fighting, we must always struggle for our dearest dreams, Terri."

 


Terri looked at Candy as a smile drew on his face. She always had that enlightening power over him.

 


"Maybe you should say that to Albert," suggested Terri.

 


"Now he doesn’t need my advice anymore," continued Candy beaming, "In this letter he is trusting me that, as soon as the war ends, he would leave all the family affairs in Archie’s and George’s hands. Then, he will follow his dreams in Africa, perhaps India."

 


"I’m glad for him," said Terri sincerely, "At least our mutual friend would live to accomplish the plans he shared with me in the past. Being honest with you Candy, I feel kind of ashamed for having lost all contact with Albert during these years. I have been quite ungrateful with him!"

 


"It is never late to get closer to a friend," she said smiling, "why don’t you write to him?"

 


"That sounds like a good idea," he responded chuckling, "Where does he live now?"

 


"In the Audrey’s manor house, in Chicago," she answered.

 


"Do you live with him and the Audreys?" he demanded curious.

 


"No, Terri, I live on my own, in the same apartment I used to share with Albert," she replied with a proud tone.

 


"How come that your stiff and aristocratic family allows you to live alone?" he asked partly smirking and partly admiring the girl’s sense of independence. Candy was an endless source of pleasant surprises for him.

 


"Albert gives me total freedom to do with my life what I think is best," she said casually but showing a huge smile at the memory of his dearest friend and tutor.

 


"You both have grown really close to each other, haven’t you?," he suggested with a slight hint of jealousy in the back of his mind. Inwardly, he reproved himself for allowing those feelings against such a dear friend as Albert was.

 


"Yes, indeed," she responded thinking about all the common past that united her life with Albert’s, "We have gone through many things together, and he has been my counselor and shoulder to cry during the most difficult trials of my life. He is more than my tutor! I think he is the big brother I never had and I believe he feels the same towards me," she explained while she looked at the ski above, which color reminded her of Albert’s light blue eyes.

 


"I guess you will miss him when he finally leaves America," Terri suggested with nostalgic voice.

 


"Yes, but I’d rather have him away from home but happy and satisfied, than living a miserable life doing something he really hates," she said vehemently.

 


"That sounds very sensitive, even if it comes from an incorrigible meddling nose like yours!" he tried to joke to ease the serious tone of the conversation.

 


"Oh you!" pouted Candy following the game.

 


"Come on, tell me, who sends you this letter in a mushy blue envelope and with this violet fragrance?" asked the man picking with two fingers one of the letters and covering his nose with his other hand, doing as if the perfume in the envelope made him feel sick.

 


"Give me that!" she cried playfully and with a fast move she recovered the letter from Terri’s hands. "This one is from Patty."

 


"Oh I see, chubby girl with glasses has a thing for violets. Yes, quite suitable, as shy as she is!" he joked greatly amused.

 


"Oh stop that, silly!" she giggled, "How many times do I have to tell you that Patty is not chubby!"

 


"O.K, O.K. Now could this reporter here tell me how that distinguished young lady, sun of beauty, is doing?" he said bending his torso in a smirking reverence.

 


"Well, you’ll be surprised," Candy said ignoring Terri’s mocking eyes, "she is getting married soon! She met my friend Tom, and they both fell in love. Isn’t it romantic?"

 


"Tom is the guy who grew up with you and has a farm, isn’t he?" Terri asked surprising Candy with his astonishing memory.

 


"That is right. It is amazing how you remember about him. I must have told you about him just once!" she mentioned, not able to hide her surprise.

 


"At the Derby, dearest. That time I won the bet." He said mischievously as an idea crossed his mind, "By the way! You never paid me that bet. As far as I remember you promised to polish my boots. I have a nice pair upstairs if you still want to keep your promise" he said chuckling.

 


"As if I would!" Candy retorted with dignity lifting her tiny nose towards the sky.

 


"Anyway, I’m happy to hear that Patty finally left the past behind," he said after a while noticing that Candy, who was in her turn playing to be offended, was not going to talk if he didn’t do it first.

 


"So do I," replied Candy softening her tone. "If this war ends soon I will attend to two weddings when I come back home!" she remarked with cheerful voice.

 


"Why two weddings?" asked Terri intrigued, "Is Dandy boy getting married too?"

 


"I hope so," Candy said as she brandished a third envelope in lavender tone, "Here, Annie tells me about Archie’s graduation, you see. I think that he will surely propose Annie one of these days. She will be the happiest girl on Earth! I can already see Annie in her wedding dress as she has always dreamt!" Candy sighed.

 


"My, my, my! Archie is truly a lucky guy! He gets his degree, receives the leadership of a large fortune, which I really think would please him a lot ‘cause he is just the bourgeois type, and on top of all that, he will marry the woman he loves!" said Terry with a hint of sadness in his voice.

 


"He really deserves it," Candy pointed out with real sympathy towards her dear cousin, "In our adolescence we both suffered awfully with the loss of our two most beloved relatives. Losing Stear was especially hard for Archie, you see. Now that it seems that things are finally going so well for him and that he will settle down with Annie, I can’t do anything but being happy for both of them."

 


"I guess so," murmured Terri melancholically, "You know Candy, people think that I’m a successful man, back in America, because every time I get on stage the theatre is full and at the end of the play the public is pleased with my work. Reporters are always behind me, my photos appear on the magazines, newspapers and tabloids, I have a comfortable house in a nice and trendy neighborhood . . . Besides all that, my father died last year and in spite of all our differences, at the end we somehow reconciled, and he left me part of his fortune, so now I’m what people would call a wealthy man. If I wanted to I could stop working for the rest of my life and live decently, yet I also have a thriving career. Some people would call me a lucky man; however, I envy your friends Archie and Tom because they soon will have the only one thing that really makes a man’s happiness . . . a wife to love and being loved by, and a family of their own," he concluded gloomily.

Candy was shocked in front of that sudden outburst of sincerity from Terri. She felt sorry to hear that the Duke had died, of course, but the saddened tone in Terri’s voice that denoted his disappointment with his own life, hurt her even more. Her mind searched a reason for his unhappiness and strangely, she could only find one.

 


"You miss Susannah, don’t you?" she asked looking at the cherry tree. Secretly, the young woman felt ashamed of the unexpected thrust she had felt when she interpreted Terri’s sadness. It was hard for her to recognize that she was jealous of a dead woman. Finally, she understood what Terri had felt towards Anthony.

 


On his own, Terri was more than amazed with Candy’s reaction. Couldn’t she see that it was not Susannah the woman in his thoughts?

 


"I wish I could tell you that I miss her . . . as a man should miss the woman he was supposed to love . . . " he replied after a while, "and I indeed feel sorry because of her death, Candy, but . . ."

 


"But?" she prompted intrigued.

 


"I am not the hurt and nostalgic man who lost his fiancée, as most people believe," he confessed huskily, "I . . . I never fell in love with Susannah. If I had married her, I wouldn’t be happier than I am now. However, I miss the friend I had in her."

 


Candy deviated her eyes from the cherry to see Terri’s large deep eyes, as though she searched in them an answer for the doubts that were assaulting her heart. The revelation he had just made changed the schemes that she had built in her head during all the previous years, since their break-up. Suddenly, what she had believed to be white, had turned into black.

 


"Don’t look at me as if I were a monster, Candy!" Terri said believing that she was scandalized by his confession, "Before, I used to feel ashamed of my incapability to love Susannah. Now, I understand that we are not masters of our own hearts, just that. I am not glad that she died, but the truth is that our marriage would have been a failure. I know I might sound tough, though it is the way things are. I must confess that I needed some help from someone else wiser than I am to finally see my relationship with Susannah from an objective point of view."

 


Candy, still speechless, remembered the one an only conversation that she ever had with Susannah. She reviewed in her mind the things that had been said and the promises that they had made to each other.

 


"I kept my promise," she thought, "I shed blood tears, but I kept my word! I stepped back! And you, Susannah, you promised to make him happy! What happened then. . . ? Did we just make him miserable? Was it, after all, a mistake?"

 


"Candy!" Terry said again trying to bring the blonde back from her thoughts, "Are you listening to me?"

 


"Ah? Err, yes!" she mumbled still bewildered.

 


Before Candy could react Terri had taken her left hand in his.

 


"Don’t feel sad for Susannah, Candy," he whispered, "She died in peace with herself and the rest of the world. I did whatever was in my hands to make her feel happy. Perhaps I did not succeed in certain areas, but I can assure that I did my best. My conscience is now free from all the guilt I felt in the past because of her accident. And, as far as it concerns to me, I am . . . I’m just fine now. Things have been kind of difficult sometimes, but today I caress certain hopes . . .." Terri paused for a second, feeling that the moment to open his heart to Candy had finally arrived.

 


"Miss Audrey!" called a voice from behind of them making Candy jump in her seat and breaking the charm of the moment. "We need you in the emergency area, right now!"

Candy stood up abruptly. She excused herself and immediately ran into the hospital while Terri remained in the garden dooming his fortune for taking away from him one perfect chance to speak up.

​

It was one of those quiet summer afternoons in which the heat makes the senses feel lethargic and consequently people reduce their activities, searching for a rest in any refreshing spot available. Wearing a light blue dress made of delicate Spanish eyelet with a white satin belt on her tiny waist, Annie Brighton sat down on one of the iron chairs in her mother’s green house. She had her embroidery and a book to employ her time while she waited for her boyfriend’s regular visit. However, there was something in the atmosphere that didn’t let her feel at ease.

 


Since the day Patty had told Annie about her first kiss with Tom, the young brunette had been pondering her relationship with Archibald. With the eyes of her mind she had seen again her first encounters with the young millionaire in the years of their puberty. The first time they had met in that party at the Loka’s, Archie’s center of attention had not been other but Candy. A couple of years later in the Academy, again Archie was still so interested in Candy that he would almost ignore the brunette. Despite her reluctance, Annie had to admit that if it had not been for Candy’s intervention, Archie would had never started dating with her and that certainty, even when it had not bothered her before, was beginning to annoy the young woman.

 


"What would have happened if Candy had not stood aside? What if she had not fallen for Terri in that time?" Annie asked herself inquisitively, "And Archie, would he have ever courted me if Candy had not played the match maker?"

 


The young lady let escape a deep sigh while she served herself a glass of iced tea and as the cold liquid refreshed her throat, her mind kept on torturing her with dark thoughts.

"In all this time together Archie has always been sweet and kind with me," she thought, "but sometimes distant, as if there were things inside him that I cannot reach. Often, when he is alone with me, his eyes get lost in the nothingness as though he were searching for something, or someone . . . Before, those moments were rare and he would always come back to his senses smiling and talking to me with vivacity. However, lately he is more and more absentminded, and sometimes even sad. Oh Archie, what is going on with you?"

 


With British punctuality Archie arrived to the Brighton’s manor house. He first presented his regards to Mrs. Brighton who was having tea with some of her friends and after the formalities had been said the young men was escorted to the greenhouse by an old maid, who regularly served as chaperon during the young couple’s rendezvous. When they arrived to the crystal structure the maid took her usual place, sitting on a bench from a prudent distance, while the young man met the girl who awaited for him impatiently.

Annie’s clear brown eyes were filled by the light of love as soon as she perceived the elegant young man who walked with refined steps towards her. As always, he was flawlessly dressed from the top of his head to his very feet. Light beige linen suit with a perfectly starched white shirt and a brown tie completed his careful outfit. Nevertheless, under that collected and gentlemanly appearance a confused heart was pumping wildly, terribly afraid of the step he had decided to take.

 


The young man kissed the lady’s hand and, as usual, she blushed lightly. Then, they sat on the iron chairs and Annie served the tea while they commented the day’s trivialities. Yet, the air seemed to be charged with a weird mood, an uncomfortable sensation that Annie could not describe but she certainly felt.

 


"Annie," said the young man after a while of silence, "I’d like to talk to you about a serious matter. In fact, it is the main reason of my visit today."

 


The young woman’s face was swept by a shadow when she heard Archie’s tone, but she did not say a word and just nodded with the head indicating her boyfriend that he could go on with his talk.

 


"Before I go any further," the young gentleman began, feeling like the murderer of an innocent bird, "I have to tell you that I think that you are a wonderful woman, I admire you and care for you deeply . . ."

 


"But . . ." asked Annie, who was already foreseeing a storm in her life.

 


"I . . . I’ve been searching into my heart lately . . ." he hesitated, "and for some reason which I don’t have really clear," he lied, "the idea of our wedding does not seem to be the right thing . . . My mind is confused, blurred . . . and . . . and I don’t think I should offer you my vows of eternal love if I still keep doubts in my soul."

 


Annie remained quiet with an amazing serenity reflected on her exquisite features. However, her eyes denoted the turmoil of emotions that was exploding inside her.

 


"You are saying that you want to call off the engagement?" she murmured with her heart hanging by a thread. Even though Annie had divined Archie’s doubts about their relationship, she could not believe that he was insinuating the idea of a break up.

 


"Not, exactly, Annie," Archie responded ashamed, "I am just. . . .asking you to give ourselves sometime, for us to be separate from each other, and think it over . . . before taking a so important decision as marriage!"

 


The young woman felt that her heart was breaking in a thousand pieces inside her chest. The pain was so acute and deep that for a strange reason the tears did not come to her eyes. Suddenly, it seemed to her that the pieces of a puzzle found their right place and she could clearly see the complete picture she had refused to behold during six years. She felt desperate.

 


"What is it that makes you doubt, Archie?" she asked with such a weak voice that it was just a shy whisper. "I mean, is it something in me you don’t like? . . . Please tell me if it is so . . . and I promise you I will work on it to change . . ." she begged pitifully.

 


"No, Annie," responded Archie feeling miserable, "It is not in you dearest . . . it is something in me I have to face alone . . . It wouldn’t be fair for you if I married you now, feeling this confusion in my heart . . . Please, understand that I need some time to think."

 


"Think about what?" Annie asked while her voice shook in a sob, yet the tears did not appear in her eyes, "Aren’t we supposed to just feel this sort of thing, and not think about them?" she asked as she stood up from the chair, not able to face the young man anymore.

 


"Perhaps that is the problem, Annie," Archie dared to say, "That I don’t feel the way I should."

 


That was the thrust into Annie’s heart that hurt the most, the one that finally killed her hope. And at the same time, the one that ignited in her the fires of anger. How did he have the courage to say that, after so long time? Why had he waited so long to tell her the truth? If everything between them had been a lie… why had he kept it until that very moment?

 


"You want to tell me that after being an issue for six years," she asked in a reproach without looking at his eyes, " when everybody is only expecting to receive the formal news of our wedding, when all our acquaintances and friends in Chicago know that I am your fiancée, when my mother and I have already started to embroider my trousseau . . . It is exactly now that you realize that your feelings are not strong enough to marry me, Archie. Do you think that is fair for me?" she asked with her usual soft accent but with a trace of resentment and harshness in her voice.

 


The young man remained mute, unable to answer to the young lady’s reproaches. He knew she had the right to demand a better explanation, but he did not find the way to tell the girl that his love for another woman was bigger and more overpowering than the one he felt for her.

 


"Why don’t you just tell me that you don’t love me anymore," she finally said bluntly releasing a suffocated sob, "Why don’t you tell me that you’ve never loved me?"

 


"Annie, it is not so, dearest!" he tried to explain, but since his feelings were not clear, not even for himself, he could not go on.

 


"Don’t say anything, Archie," she demanded, "I guess you owe my parents and explanation, but as far as I am concerned I don’t want to see you anymore! Please leave!"

 


The young man bowed his fair head in shame and not able to say more, he went out of the place. When Annie could not hear Archie’s steps in the distance, she fell on her knees with her hands shaking as they seized the velvet cushion on the iron chair. The maid came immediately to help the young lady, but the she refused any comfort. Finally, her eyes released the tears she had been holding.

 


The brunette’s cries invaded the green house as she called a name with despair.

 


"Oh Candy, Candy!" she yelled in poignant grief, "I want to see you Candy! I need you here!" but just the silence responded to Annie’s calls. For the first time in her life, Annie would have to face a trial alone.

​

The young woman set the scissors, a tray, a pitcher with water, a comb and a razor on the cart. The supervisor had scolded her because one of her patients had not the regular military haircut. Therefore, she was determined to force that stubborn man who had refused to let her cut his hair as all nurses regularly did with every patient in the hospital.

 


She walked slowly along the aisle pushing the cart while she tried to fix her nurse cap and a few blond strands that escaped from her neat hairdo. She knew that what she was about to do was not going to be easy at all, but she was not willing to risk her professional reputation just because a young man was so unreasonably obstinate.

The girl approached the man’s bed trying to gather all her courage to keep a serious attitude. He was there, sitting on the bed collectedly as he wrote with fast and firm movements of his right wrist. He was fully dressed and looked so healthy that she couldn’t avoid to remember that Yves Bonnot had told her that he would soon be out of hospital. In fact, he was almost totally recovered, and so had the doctor stated in his report. In a matter of a few weeks, perhaps sooner, he would receive the order to go back to the Front.

 


The young woman pulled the curtain that separated each bed making a distinctive noise that made the man lift his eyes from the paper. He looked at the woman in front of him and moved by a natural impulse his eyes shone in joy.

 


"Hi there!" he greeted her with a smile.

 


"Hello," she replied in her most serious tone, "I’ve come to talk to you about a certain matter, something that you should have done a long time ago."

 


"Ah really?" he wondered diverted at her serious look, so strange in a face that he knew always cheerful and lighthearted.

 


"This is serious Terri," said the blonde realizing that he was again starting to play, "You have to let me cut your hair. Look at that! It reaches your neck! It does not seem that you are in the army!"

 


"And I am not, dear Candy," he responded playfully, "I’m in hospital and I don’t see the need to cut my hair so often. Leave it like that, I will manage later," he concluded addressing his eyes to the file he had on his legs.

 


The blonde crossed her arms over her chest in an upset gesture, but she was not going to give up so easily.

 


"Terrence!" she called him knowing that he would understand by the name she had used, that she was not willing to play around, "I’m not kidding. I said that I would cut your hair and I will do it!" she warned taking the scissors and the comb she had on the cart.

Terri focused in the young woman’s eyes and as he saw her determination he answered back with a challenging glance.

 


"No you won’t," he responded standing up with a fast move.

 


Then, the man in all his height stood up in front of her. Looking at that tall and well built man Candy understood that it was not going to be a piece of cake to force him to do something he did not want, especially if he was twice or perhaps three times stronger than she was. She thought then that it could be a good idea to change the strategy.

"Terri, please," she pleaded in a sweeter tone, "I really have to do this."

 


"Ah!!! Now I perceive a little change in that naughty attitude of yours, young lady," he replied mockingly.

 


"I’m not the naughty one around here!" she riposted starting to lose her patience.

 


"Oh yes, you are," he continued having the best time of his life, "Now, what about getting rid of that dangerous weapon?!" he said and immediately moved fast to grab the scissors from the girl’s hands.

 


When she realized that he had taken the scissors away from her so easily she internally reproached herself for being so careless with Terri’s always unpredictable reactions.

"Give me back those scissors," demanded the blonde.

 


"Come and get them by yourself," he challenged her lifting his arm to make sure that she wouldn’t be able to reach the scissors.

 


"Oh you are such a guttersnipe!" she screamed not able to hold a giggle that somehow encouraged him to continue with the game.

 


The young man swung back and forward avoiding Candy’s desperate attempts to recover the scissors. All of a sudden, they were again a couple of teenagers playing in the forest, chasing one to the other in the midst of laughter and joyful giggles. Then, there was an unexpected move, she jumped to reach the scissors stumbling clumsily and before anyone of them could do anything to avoid the accident she fell over him pushing him with all her weight.

 


The young man swayed back but tried to avoid a greater disaster falling on the bed behind him. He managed to fall on his back supporting his torso on his left elbow. There he was, arms full of Candy, with the girl virtually lying on top of him. Could we blame him for the things that followed?

 


He looked into her eyes and noticed her bewilderment. She was so adoringly seductive like that, confused and nervous in his arms. The temptation to hold her even tighter and kiss those lips that unconsciously were offering him their voluptuous softness, was almost unbearable. He had to do something to control his impulses or otherwise he would not be responsible of his acts any longer. He of course, had not the slightest idea what was going on in the young woman’s heart.

 


There she was, lost in his scented skin, surrounded by the arms that made her feel whole. Amidst her embarrassment she understood that there was not a place where she could fully feel emerge her femininity as it only happened in the arms that were embracing her in that moment. But what does a girl do in such a situation when she is so terribly scared and confused?

 


"By St. George!" he finally got to say, seeking desperately for a way out of the disconcerting situation, "The hospital service has improved amazingly in a few months. First they send me an Evil Witch to scare me to death, and now I have Goldylocks in my arms!"

 


"Rube!" she cried as she pushed him and moved away from his body, "I don’t understand how you could have spent so many years in St. Paul’s Academy and never learn any manners!"

 


He also rose from the bed with a glare of indignation in his eyes. For Terrence Grandchester, rejection had always been a difficult thing to bear.

 


"Come on, Candy. Why do you always have to be so picky! A thousand girls would have killed to be in you place! If I really wanted to take advantage of a girl I would only have to snap my fingers and I could have any one I desired," he boasted brazenly.

 


That really was the end of it all! If Candy had a defect, it was her sometimes excessive sense of dignity. The sardonic expression on the man’s face only made matters worse and soon her bad temper was out of control.

 


"All right Mr. Modesty, go ahead and start snapping your ten fingers, you’ll need them all," she yelled angrily grabbing the scissors from his hands.

 


Candy took her car and pushed it through the aisle feeling how every eye in the ward looked at her curiously. The other patients couldn’t see what had happened because she had previously pulled the curtains but they had obviously heard the argument and were wondering what Grandchester could have done to the young lady for her to react so violently. As if she hadn’t had enough with Terri’s dark sense of humor, she had to bare the burning blush in her face while it covered her cheeks until she looked like a cute poppy in summer time.

​

Yves Bonnot was depressed. Things had not gone really well for him. Candy had been more evasive and distant than ever, but he had seen her several times talking to the "maudit ricain" (damned American) with great familiarity. But the worst of it all had happened just two days before. He had gathered the courage to invite the young woman to a gala that was going to take place soon. Major Vouillard had been promoted to the rank of Colonel and for that reason he was offering a ball and dinner for all the officials and his friends. It was going to be a great occasion because Vouillard came from a family of certain social prestige and all Parisian high society was surely going to be there.

Unfortunately, Candy had declined the invitation as tactfully as she could but also with firm determination. Yves thought that it surely was the end of all his efforts. He wished Marius Duvall were still alive to advise him on the matter, but the good old doctor was already gone for ever and the young man would have to face the situation just by himself.

 


On top of all his depressive mood, he had received that morning a notification that was worrying him immensely. His time to get his lady was getting amazingly short.

Yves sighed melancholically while he walked down the corridor. He was in one of those moments of the bluest daydreaming. Half walking on this world, half floating in his own personal and sad universe. It was then when he bumped into a young blonde with the face beautifully blushed and a flash of anger in her eyes.

 


"Good morning Yves!" she said with a weird tone he could not interpret.

 


"Bon jour, Candy," he replied expecting that she would walk past him without any other comment as she had been doing recently.

 


And she indeed was about to do it until a bad idea came to her mind making her go back her steps.

 


"By the way Yves," she said with angry inflexions in her voice, "I’ve thought about your invitation and I accept it. Pick me up at 9 pm. I’ll be ready" she said bluntly leaving the man behind before he could say or do much.

 


"Good!" was all that he succeeded to say before Candy walked away along the corridor.

The young man stood up there for a while, not understanding what had just happened. She was strangely mad or upset, that was obvious, but then why had she accepted when she had first refused so firmly? . . . .

 


"Women!" he thought, "I’ll never understand them. But I don’t care. She said she would go and this time I will play my last card."

​

It was one of those rare occasions in which Candy’s ,Julienne’s and Flammy’s shifts had coincided and the three of them were not on duty at the same time. The three women were having a female chat in the intimacy of Candy and Flammy’s room talking about a thousand deep and futile things, all at the same time. Was Nancy really going out with a guy? Was the patient on bed 234 really going to make it out of his depression? What about getting one of those new hats with a blue feather that were so trendy that year? Had Gerard written to Julienne? Should Flammy get a new hairdo?

 


The three women were talking vividly, or at least two of them were doing it, because the young blonde was only participating in the conversation halfheartedly. In her mind, she was remembering the argument she had had with Terrence that morning.

 


"He is just a silly boor! He deserved a slap on the face after that gross comment!" she was telling herself, "But . . . perhaps . . . I was kind of too tough with him . . . wasn’t I?" she went on thinking sadly, "It was me who fell on him! Oh my! How embarrassing!" she remembered blushing lightly, " And I must admit that he didn’t try anything when we were there on the bed….If he had not opened his big mouth I would have excused myself, stood up and we would have forgotten the whole incident by now . . . . . Are you sure?" an internal voice asked her, "Would you have forgotten that you were so close to him? Wasn’t the fragrance of his perfume so sweet to your nostrils?" she paused for a second hating herself for being so lost in her love for Terrence, "As if I care," she answered back to her internal voice, defensively "I don’t care either about all those girls he said he can have . . . that he surely has back in America . . ."

 


"Candy! Are you listening to me?" asked Julienne again.

 


"Yes?" said Candy absentmindedly.

 


"We were commenting about the gala offered by Colonel Vouillard!" replied Flammy with apparent disinterest, "Julienne was saying that she would love to go . . ." continued the young brunette.

 


"THE GALA!!!" screamed Candy covering her cheeks with her hands as if she had seen a ghost, "God heavens! What have I done???"

 


It was not until that moment that Candy finally digested the consequences of her acts. She had been so upset because of her argument with Terri that had not even realized that she had accepted Yves’ invitation in the heat of her rage. What was she thinking in that moment when she found Yves in the corridor and told him that she would go with him to the ball? Years later, when Candy grew older and more experienced she had to recognize that her internal demons had finally surfaced her heart in that moment and she had acted in a sort of revenge she did not meditate. But her mind tricked her mischievously, erasing from her head the memory of what she had done during the whole day, until the conversation with her friends forced her to face the truth.

 


"What’s wrong with you Candy," asked Julienne worried, "you paled all of a sudden. And what did you say about the ball?"

 


"Oh, everything is wrong," replied Candy alarmed, "I just did the most stupid thing. Oh what am I gonna do now?" she asked to her friends.

 


"If you explain what you have done, we might be able to help you. Don’t you think Candy?" remarked Flammy with her usual collectedness.

 


"I feel so ashamed of myself!" Candy only managed to say while she nodded her head from left to right.

 


"Cool down, girl," advised Julienne tapping on Candy’s shoulder, "Now pull yourself together and tell us what happened?"

 


Candy raised her head to address her green eyes to Julienne and then to Flammy.

 


"You guys are going to think that I’m a monster," said Candy beginning to talk.

 


"Come on, Candy nobody here is going to see you as a monster," answered Flammy beginning to lose her patience, "Just speak up and tell us what happened."

 


"Well, I had an argument with Terri today," the blonde said with sad eyes.

 


"That is not a new thing," giggled Julienne but since she noticed that Candy was really upset, the woman tried her best to control her amusement, "And what was the problem this time, may we ask?"

 


"I don’t really want to talk about that now, but it was because of the argument that I did something I shouldn’t have to," Candy explained lowering her eyes.

 


"Oh, Candy do not dramatize, and tell us straightforwardly what you did," commanded Flammy.

 


"I . . . I was so angry with Terri. . . that…. When," the blonde hesitated as she crushed her hands one in the other, "when I saw Yves in the corridor just after the argument . . . I don’t know what came over me . . . I . . . told Yves that I would go with him to Colonel Vouillard’s gala," she finally finished her tale.

 


The two women looked at Candy with stunned faces. They simply couldn’t believe what they had just heard. Julienne raised her eyebrows while a strange glare shone in Flammy’s face which puzzled Candy for a second.

 


"But you had already decided not to go with Yves to that party. Haven’t you?" asked Julienne with a sweet but firm tone, "Why did you do that, my child?" she inquired as she extended her arm around Candy’s shoulders.

 


"Oh Julie," cried the blonde, "I don’t know why . . . I was . . . so mad at Terri . . . and felt . . . so many and different things here inside," she said touching her chest, "I have no idea what happened to me!"

 


The older woman hugged Candy mumbling sweet words to calm her down as if she had been a baby.

 


"Maybe, unconsciously, you still think that it could be a good idea to give yourself an opportunity with Yves," suggested Flammy with an unexpressive tone as she absentmindedly looked through the window, "and perhaps that is the best thing you can do. That Grandchester is only a trouble maker," she whispered in an almost inaudible voice while the saddest expression appeared in her tanned face.

 


"No, it is not that," replied Candy parting from Julienne’s arms, "More than ever before I’m convinced that my relationship with Yves would never work."

 


"Then you are using Yves to make Terrence jealous," suggested Flammy with an accusing tone, looking at her friend directly to the eyes.

 


"Oh, no! I never meant that . . . " The blonde hurried to explain, "I don’t know why I told him such a thing, maybe I . . . I . . . "Candy ran out of words, not really finding an explanation for her behavior.

 


"Come on, Candy," Julienne said cheering her friend up, "Do not look for an explanation for the mysteries of the heart. You did it, but now you regret it . . . Isn’t it?"

"Oh yes, I do," nodded Candy, "I think I’ll call off that date."

 


"No you aren’t going to do that, young lady," replied Julienne authoritatively, "If I know Yves well, by this moment he surely has already confirmed your attendance to the ball. If you cancel the appointment now it would be very embarrassing for him. It is not well seen to do that kind of things in such formal occasions."

 


"You are right, Julie," Candy accepted disappointedly.

 


"But, you are going to take advantage of this situation, Candy," added Julienne with a slight smile."

 


"Am I?"

 


"Oh yes, you are going to use this opportunity to talk to Yves wholeheartedly and set things clearly between you two. You are sure that you are not interested in any man but that stubborn American, aren’t you?" continued the older woman.

 


"I wish I could tell you that it is not so…but I can’t deny. You are right Julie."

 


"And you think you will feel the same even if Mr. Grandchester is not really interested in you…Is that right?"

 


"That’s right!" answered Candy feeling that the whole world was over her shoulders.

 


"Then, it is time for you to tell Yves once for all that there isn’t any hope for him. It will hurt him but I’m afraid you don’t have any option. So, the sooner you end with this ambiguity between you two, the better. Don’t you agree Flammy?" asked the older woman addressing to the other brunette who had remained silent for a while.

"I think it is the most honest thing to do," Flammy mumbled.

 


"You are right Julie," agreed Candy lowering her head, "I don’t know where I am going to find the courage to break Yves’ heart, but there isn’t any other way out. On the other hand, you two have to promise me something."

 


"What?" asked the two brunettes in the unison.

 


"That Terri is not going to know that I’m going out with Yves."

 


"Why not?" asked Julienne confused.

 


"I don’t want to use Yves in any way. That was not my intention. Please promise me that he won’t know," pleaded the young blonde with her most convincing expression.

 


"My lips are sealed," replied Flammy putting her fingers over her mouth.

 


"Julie?" prompted Candy to the reluctant older woman.

 


"All right, all right! I won’t tell the heartless man about your date, I cross my heart!"

 


"Oh girls, I don’t know what I would do without you!" said Candy moved while she gave both of her friends a huge bear hug.

​

Beauty is a weapon, an international currency, a dangerous trap, a powerful poison that often blinds men and women’s reason; yet we consider it a gift and seek for it because it is also the finest product of human minds. Beauty is, after all, everywhere we want to recreate it. Sometimes we find beauty in a silent evening, in the nervous wings of a butterfly or in the soft breathing of a sleeping baby. However, there is also a collective idea of beauty that changes with time and culture. And that evening, Candy was, without any question, a perfect example of the occidental idea of beauty . . . even if she ignored it, always worried for the freckles on her nose, which were then just a few rosy spots that gave her character and a special charm. Yes, beauty is a weapon when women are conscious of it and learn how to use it. But Candy had not the slightest idea about the sort of power she had in her hands, thus she was not skilled in using it.

Make up was almost a novelty in those times, reserved to actresses and loose women, and it wouldn’t become popular until the end of the war. So, Candy did not wear anything but her usual powder and rose perfume that evening. Nevertheless, she was one of those rare beauties born to be exhibited, "au naturel". The whitest skin of her porcelain cheeks graced with a natural soft blush and the delicate pink of her enticing lips did not need any sort of artifice to seduce. Neither did the light of her deep green eyes that gathered the glitter of the emeralds and the shadows of the malachite.

Candy had wondered what dress could be more appropriate to wear for the ball, but for her two friends there was only one candidate:

 


"The green dress you received as a birthday present, of course," had been Julienne’s immediate suggestion and Flammy had agreed absolutely despite her usual indifference towards fashion and other feminine issues.

 


So, that evening Candy tried on the dress which had been confined in a corner of her closet since she had received it the previous spring. With great horror the young woman discovered that the neck line was indeed really low and it also left the shoulders uncovered. Candy looked at herself in the mirror and the mere vision made her blush. At twenty years old her body had fully matured and that dress, beyond its green silk and black lace, did not leave any doubt of the young woman’s attributes.

 


"I can’t wear this!" she said aloud.

 


"Oh yes you can!" Julienne replied while she fixed Candy’s hair.

 


"But . . ."

 


"Stop being so foolishly shy, the dress is just magnifique, you look like a dream in it . . . and do not move," scolded the older brunette, "You know, I think you should leave you hair loose. It is so incredibly beautiful that it deserves to be showed off in all its glory . . . I’ll just use a bow and some bobby pins here. What do you think Flammy?"

 


"Oh, Julie, she would look pretty anyway," commented the brunette who was busy ironing her uniforms.

 


"You say that because you are my friend but you should see my pal Annie, she really is a major beauty," said Candy smiling.

 


"I won’t discuss with a blind woman," riposted Flammy showing her tongue.

 


At nine o’clock Candy was ready. Julienne had lent her a modest set composed by a string of cultured pearls with a pendant of obsidian and matching earrings, only valuable pieces of jewelry that the woman had. A Spanish lace fan which had been Flammy’s present for the occasion, satin high heeled pumps and white evening gloves complemented the outfit. The long curly hair fell in capricious locks on her shoulders and back, shining in golden sparkles with the evening artificial lights.

 


A knock on the door told the three women that the hour had arrived. Candy looked at her friends still hesitant, but the two of them encouraged her with their eyes. Thus, the blonde breathed deeply and picking her silken skirt to step forward she moved towards the door.

 


"Good evening Yves," greeted Candy shyly when she opened the door.

 


The young man stood speechless for a while, shocked at the angel transformed into a goddess. His eyes and mind had to struggled to focus in the nothingness where Candy’s charms did not dumbfound his reason.

 


"Good evening, Candy," he got to say after a few seconds of internal fight to control himself, "Mon Dieu, you are astonishingly beautiful tonight!" he commented not able to hide his admiration.

 


"Thank you Yves, you also look great tonight," she complimented him in return and she was not lying. "Should we go now?" she suggested trying to release her tension.

"Of course. Good evening girls!" said Yves as he offered his arm to Candy who timidly accepted it lowering her eyes.

 


"She is certainly an unearthly beauty!" commented Flammy when the couple had parted closing the door and leaving the two brunettes alone in the room. "And always so charming and caring. Everybody loves her wherever she goes. . . No way I could ever compete with that," she ended sadly.

 


"Ma chère Flammy," exclaimed Julienne holding her friend, fully aware of the poignant pains in the young woman’s heart.

 


Meanwhile, a very proud young man with an elegant lady walked along the corridors heading to the hospital main door. The passages were virtually empty and Candy prayed God not to find anyone of her acquaintances in the way. But her pleas were not listened above this time. When they turned on the last corner a well known figure bumped into them.

 


"Good evening Mrs. Kenwood," nodded Yves greeting an old lady in a nurse uniform.

 


"Oh, Dr. Bonnot! Candy! How wonderfully you two look tonight…Where are you going?" asked Mrs. Kenwood with a curious smile.

 


"To Colonel Vouillard’s gala, madam, and Miss Audrey is honoring me with her company" answered Yves proudly as Candy felt that the ground beneath her feet disappeared.

 


"I see…have a great time, my young friends, and dance all night long!" wished the old woman sincerely as she continued her way, waving her hand in a friendly sign.

 


Candy kept on walking by Yves’ side but her mind had started to twirl. Laura Kenwood was the oldest nurse in the hospital. She was a sweet and kind Irish widow with a great heart and one only defect, she usually spoke too much and had no idea of what tact could be . . . but the worse of it all was that Mrs. Kenwood was also Terri’s nurse in the night shift. Yes, Mrs. Kenwood was Mother Goose. So Candy began to shake as a teenager who fears to be discovered by her own father during a forbidden date.

 


"Are you fine, Candy?" asked Yves while he opened the passenger’s seat door for the young lady to get into the car, "You paled!"

 


"I…I’m just fine…It must be the heat…It…it is really hot tonight. Isn’t it?" she stuttered.

 


"Yes, it is! August in Paris is always that way," assented the young man with a sweet smile.

​

It was a quiet night, hot and starry. The song of a nightingale could be heard in the distance while the full moon lightened the ward with silvery beams. For a reason he was not able to understand, Terrence Grandchester was restless. Wherever he turned he couldn’t get to sleep. He took off his night shirt and even the bandages that covered his wound on the left flank, he read for a while, he walked in circles around the bed, looked through the window and even desired, for the first time in years, to have a cigarette in his mouth. Then he took his old metal pal from his baggage and began to play a tone. But nothing seemed to work that night.

 


"What have you done Mr. Grandchester?" asked a hoarse female voice behind him, "You took off those bandages… You must be crazy!" chided an old lady in white uniform.

The young man turned his head to see the woman and gave her an apologizing smile.

"Mrs. Kenwood," he replied, "The wound is already healed, there is not use to wear the bandage anymore! Besides, it is too hot tonight!"

 


"No, young man," insisted the old lady in a reprimand, "Even if it looks healed in the outside, in the inside the tissues might be still weak. You must have the bandage on, until the doctor gives you the authorization to stop wearing it. Now be a good kid and let me bandage you again," Laura Kenwood said smiling with her usual mild tone.

 


Terri looked at the woman a little bothered by her insistence, yet he did not complain and obeyed submissively.

 


"It is a beautiful night, isn’t it?" commented the woman trying to start a conversation while she bandaged the young man back, "I see that you can’t sleep tonight".

 


"Well, yes," avowed Terri accepting the conversation as a good alternative to forget about his irrational uneasiness that evening.

 


"Ah! this war is a total stupidity," went on Laura, "Young and handsome men like you should be out there having fun, wooing the girls, enjoying life, and not in the Front killing each other or down here, walking in circles just as a lion in its cage." she sentenced giggling.

 


"You are right, Mrs. Kenwood," agreed Terri looking at the old lady with sympathy.

 


"One is young only once, my child," the woman commented sighing deeply, "I am usually really worried when I see your generation being abused in this fight. But tonight, at least, I felt a release, you know, son."

 


"And why was that, may I ask?" Terri demanded trying to keep the talk.

 


"Oh, well, I saw that at least a young man is having a good time tonight as it should be. You see, when I was coming here I found doctor Bonnot in the corridors. He was all dressed up, really dazzling in his uniform and all, going to Colonel’s Vouillard party. Of course he was radiant with the girl holding his arm." the woman smiled dreamingly, "And let me tell you that Candy was a vision to behold this evening . . . Ummm, I think the bandage is ready" she gabbled, "There you are, don’t take it off again please, and try to have a good sleep son," she ended in a jumble that Terri was barely able to understand.

The young aristocrat, who had remained in shocked for a few seconds, finally managed to organize his thoughts and trying to use all the collectedness that he was able to fake when he was on stage, he asked the woman before she left him to continue with her work.

 


"Mrs. Kenwood," he called the old lady, "You said that Candy looked beautiful tonight when going to the party with Yves Bonnot. Is that what you said?"

 


"Oh yes, you should have seen her, son. She was gorgeous," said the woman innocently.

​

Light, laughter and music invaded the luxurious room packed with men in full-dress uniforms and women in elegant gowns. Green garlands and huge bows with the French flag colors decorated the place carefully lightened by multiple chandeliers. There was a long buffet table covered with an impeccably embroidered table cloth, topped with all sort of dishes and drinks. Along the room, waiters in livery served Champagne to the gallant men that proudly showed off the medals on their chests and to the ladies that brandished their fans flirtatiously. People seemed to be enjoying themselves despite the tensions lived during those days in the Front, forgetting in the magic moment of the celebration that miles away in the North, the Allies were fighting desperately in the fifth Battle of Arras to chase the German Army away from the country.

 


A group of middle age women interrupted their conversation for a while when a young couple entered in the room causing the general admiration among the guests. Every male eye in the place engrossed in delight at the sight of the young lady in the debonair green dress that walked graciously by a young officer’s side.

 


"That one is the American heroine," said one of the ladies in the group.

 


"The girl who saved the stranded group?" wondered a tall blond woman, "She is certainly very beautiful, I must admit."

 


"But where does a simple nurse, as she is, get such a dress, I wonder," commented a third lady with gray hair pulled into a bun, as she used her lorgnette to better examine the young lady’s outfit.

 


"Well, my husband believes she comes from an American rich family," commented the first lady who was Vouillard’s wife.

 


"And how does he know that?" asked the blond lady.

 


"He says that her family has connections with Marshall Foch," said Mrs. Vouillard happy to be the possessor of a juicy piece of information.

 


"Very impressive. And who is the young lieutenant with her?" asked the old lady with gray hair.

 


"One doctor in the hospital," pointed out Mrs. Vouillard. "He is cute, isn’t he?"

 


"And does not have bad taste!" giggled the blonde and her comment awaken the general laughter in the group.

​

Yves’ heart could barely find enough place inside his chest. He observed how most men in the ball looked at him with a hint of envy in their eyes and he knew that the dazzling lady whose hand rested in his arm was the cause of the general masculine coveting looks. He also noticed that Candy was quite self confident and got by pretty well in that high society atmosphere. Yves ignored that, even when she felt disgusted with the protocol of a rigid elite , the young woman was familiar with it. The wonder of it all was that she had been able to preserve her freshness and spontaneity in spite of the stiff world in which she had lived since the age of twelve.

 


The young couple mingled with the other guests, drank, ate and talked with the rest of the medical personnel that had been invited, mostly doctors and their wives or fiancées. Candy did her best to appear calm and cheerful getting certain success in her attempt. However, inwardly, she was uneasy and could not get a couple of blue eyes out of her head. On top of her constant thoughts about the man in her heart, she was also worried for the talk she knew she had to face and the words she had to tell Yves during that evening.

 


"Would you like to dance?" asked Yves smiling when the orchestra began to play the first waltz.

 


The young woman nodded in acceptance leaving her glass on the table as she put her hand on the arm that the young man offered to her. Yves was delighted to have the girl of his dreams in his arms during the dance, but he was also looking desperately for a moment to talk to her privately. Yet, he told himself that such conversation could wait for later, so he just concentrated in enjoying the moment as his eyes devoured every line in Candy’s gorgeous figure and his body engaged in the sweet pleasure of savoring Candy’s proximity. After the waltz they danced the quadrilles, which the blonde usually enjoyed a great deal and then joined again the group of their colleagues.

 


At midnight Vouillard made one of those speeches that he always enjoyed so deeply, but everybody suffered utterly. Nevertheless, as he was the Hospital director and the host that night, nobody dared to complain. Although the man spoke endlessly, at the end of his talk, everybody could wake up and received Vouillard’s last words with an applause.

"Thank you, ladies and gentlemen," said Vouillard smiling, "Now I would like to thank my greatest supporter through all my life, my wife Christine. My dear Chris, I’d like to invite you to dance with me something I know you love," he said addressing to his wife who had the grace to blush lightly at her husband compliments.

 


Vouillard made a sign to the orchestra as he pulled his wife’s chair and took her to the center of the room. Little by little other couples began to join the host and hostess.

Yves turned to see the young woman by his side and invited her to dance again.

"I think I am a little bit tired," Candy said trying to excuse herself and avoid another waltz in which Yves would have to hold her closely.

 


"But we have danced so little, Candy," he insisted smiling kindly, "How can you get tired so soon when dancing, while you can stand so long hours in surgery?"

 


"All right," she replied admitting defeat with a smile, "But do not complain if I step on your feet," she warned.

 


The young couple stood up walking slowly to the center of the room. The music had character but was sweet at the same time. It was a gracious and elegant waltz with a majestic melodic line. Candy soon noticed that Yves was indeed a skillful dancer. She was, in fact, beginning to enjoy the dance as the orchestra played with sprightly air, when all of a sudden her green eyes were intercepted by a pair of gray ones, and she could read in them the deep love the owner of those eyes felt for her. The young woman understood in the moment that she had to speak soon. The situation they were living was not fair for Yves. It is always better to face the truth, no matter how hurtful it could be, than living a lie.

 


Candy followed Yves’ lead and internally decided that they were dancing for the last time in their lives. Her kind heart saddened with the perspective, knowing that she was about to lose a friend. Their feet continued to follow the steps until the last note died in the violins. Candy would not see the same open smile on Yves’ face until several years later.

"You know, I’d like to go outside to take some fresh air," Candy asked Yves when the music started to play a new waltz. She was really searching the opportunity to talk to the young man in private, ignoring that he was also trying to find a chance to tell her what he had in his heart.

 


They went out of the room towards the balcony. Outside, the stars light melted with the lamps of the sleeping city, and once Yves had closed the door behind them, the noises of the party reduced, leaving them alone with the evening silence.

 


Both of them remained quiet for a moment. None of the two felt able to start the conversation they somehow feared, though each one had a different reason.

 


"Yves, I want to thank you for inviting me," she got to say, being the first one to talk, "I’m really having a good time," she added sincerely.

 


"The one that should thank you for honoring me with your company is me," he replied looking at her with devotion.

 


She answered with a shy smile and then again an embarrassing silence grew between them, but Candy remembered Julienne’s advice and one more time she gained courage to talk.

 


"I’d like to tell you something," they both said in unison, surprising each other with the coincidence.

 


Man and woman laughed at the incident for a brief while before they could continue with the conversation they wanted to commence.

 


"Ladies first, isn’t it?" she said trying to take the initiative.

 


"That is true," accepted Yves, "But this time I’d like to change roles and be the first one to talk. Would you mind?"

 


Candy stayed mute for an endless second. In the back of her mind she was afraid of Yves’ intentions and wanted to avoid a useless love confession that would only hurt both of them. However, the young man’s eyes begged with so strong pleas that she could not deny his petition.

 


"Go ahead," she conceded.

 


The young man’s face lit under the stars’ gleams as he tried to join the bravery to open his heart.

 


"Candy," he started, "It’s been almost a year since our talk in the park. Back then I promised you to be your friend and wait patiently not regarding the strong feelings I have for you. I’ve kept this promise all this time but now, certain circumstances are forcing me to bring again this topic. I think it is the right moment for us to define our relationship."

Candy gasped when she realized that her presentments had not been wrong. Therefore, she hurried to stop the confession.

 


"Precisely," she interrupted with her sweetest tone while her eyes were stuck to the floor, "I think it is a good time to clear things up between you and me, Yves."

"Then it seems that we are beginning to coincide," he replied with a shy smile, searching in the darkness the girl’s hand that rested on the railing and taking it tenderly in his.

"I am afraid it is not so," Candy said calmly, while she retired her hand from Yves’ in an instinctive gesture, "Yves, I believe I already know what you are going to tell me and there is no need of a similar confession."

 


"There is something you ignore, Candy," he said nervously, "I have received orders to join the field hospital in Arras, I must leave in a couple of days more and before my departure I would like to know if at my return a loving fiancée will be waiting for me. And of course, I hope this woman could not be other but you. That would make me the happiest man on Earth."

 


Candy deviated her eyes, unable to look at the young man’s face. In all her life, she had never experienced a similar situation. She remembered the time when Archie was about to confess his feelings for her in Saint Paul’s Academy, but in that occasion, they were just a couple of teenagers and circumstances never let the boy to complete his confession. Some years later it was Neil who avowed his love for her, but the deep aversion she felt for her childhood enemy did not allow her to feel anything beyond pity. The situation with Yves was different, she thought, now she was a grown up woman listening to a marriage proposal from a dear and admired friend, and she knew she had to refuse and consequently break the young man’s heart, losing his friendship as well.

"Yves, you are a wonderful man," she said in an almost inaudible voice, "I admire you and care for you, but I am afraid my heart cannot requite your feelings," she concluded wishing that the ground could open beneath her feet and swallow her completely.

"But my love for you is so deep that it could supply your lack until your heart learned to love me in return," he pleaded desperately, sensing his hopelessness.

 


Candy raised her charming eyes that were already full of tears making her green apples glitter in the moonlight.

 


"There is no use, my dear friend," she whispered huskily, "My heart has been locked for almost four years and the key is in someone else’s hand. I have tried many times to open it but it just does not obey my commands"

 


Yves raised his face towards the sky, making great efforts to hide the tears that invaded his eyes and the frustration permeating his every feature. Candy could notice how a muscle on his temple tensed with the refrained anxiety.

 


"It is Grandchester, isn’t it?" he finally said acridly.

 


"Yves, don’t hurt yourself this way," Candy pleaded not willing to get into further explanations.

 


"He is the one who captured your heart. Isn’t he, Candy?" he asked again almost groaning in pain. "Please, Candy, I need to know the truth!"

 


The blonde lowered her head again and turning her back to hide her distressed face, she walked a few steps along the balcony. Then, she stopped and with the arms crossed over her chest she confessed:

 


"Yes, I love him," she avowed, "I’ve loved him for a long time. Sometimes I think that I came to France trying to flee from his memory, but destiny insists in setting him in my way," she explained, "I wish things could be different for you and me, Yves. Unfortunately, I cannot control my feelings towards him" Candy concluded melancholically.

 


"He must be a very lucky man," Yves murmured hoarsely, "I hope he can make you happy the way you deserve, Candy."

 


Candy’s tears finally ran through her lovely cheeks, enlightened by the moon sparkles . The situation was becoming extremely painful for her.

 


"Do not take me wrong, Yves," she tried to clarify, "I love Terri, that is true, but it doesn’t mean that he returns my feelings. Once he was in love with me, yet that was in the past. Now we are just old pals, and we might remain the same way for the rest of our lives. However, what he feels or not for me will not change my own feelings. Now I know that I will always love him to the very last day of my existence," she sighed sadly.

"I don’t believe he is indifferent to you, Candy," said Yves sincerely, "As a man I kind of understand Grandchester’s feelings for you, and even though I would love to tell you the opposite, if I want to be honest with you and with myself, I must admit that he certainly looks very much in love with you. In some way, I sensed it since the very first time I saw him, the night you came back from the Front . . . Anyway, the result is always the same for me. It seems that love has denied its grace to me," he concluded gloomily.

 


Candy’s heart shrunk at Yves comment and her characteristic caring spirit fought desperately to find a word of comfort for the man whose heart she had just broken against her will.

 


"Yves, I know that everything I can tell you now might sound empty and senseless," she began, "I understand your pain because I’ve been in similar situations before, and I know well how it feels to be heart broken. Nevertheless, love will not always turn its face away from you …You are a wonderful man and I am sure many women would want to be loved by you and would love you in return earnestly. It is just a matter of time."

 


The young man looked at Candy with a sad smile. "I don’t care about all those women you say, Candy," he thought, "It is only you who I wish could love me in return."

 


"Thank you, my friend," he said struggling to hold back the tears, "Now I suppose that you would like to come back to the hospital," he suggested without looking at Candy’s eyes.

 


"I think it would be the best thing to do," she replied.

​

Mrs. Kenwood was on her regular patrol when she realized that one of the beds was empty. However, since it was Terri’s bed she did not worry a bit. The patient was, after all, practically recovered and a little nocturnal walk was not going to be of any harm. Besides, it was not the first time he did something like that and the old lady knew it.

"So young and suffering from insomnia!" she thought, "Ah, poor kid!"

 


And after this consideration she continued checking on the other patients.

​

"It’s past midnight!" he thought, "What the heck is she trying to prove?" the young man walked along the dark corridor with firm and long steps, which were clear signs of his physical recovery, but also of his nervousness. He had left behind the wards and the surgical rooms areas and was walking into the aisle that took to the personnel dormitories. He knew well where he was heading because in the previous months he had made the same way several times during the late evening hours. He would stray towards her room, lean his forehead over the wooden door of her chamber and imagine that he could follow the pace of her heart bits during her sleep. He used to remain in silence for a timeless moment perceiving with the senses of the soul her essence, her warmth, her taste and the sound of her breathing.

 


Yet, that evening his expedition was not as pleasant as it had been other times. With each new stride his body temperature raised higher and his mind poisoned him with obscure ideas. Terrence Grandchester hated himself at times. His bad temper, his insecurity disguised as arrogance, the unhealed internal wounds, his hostility and passionate heart had always given him a good deal of complications, and even though his job was to control and feign emotions, whenever Candice White was involved, his self-control went out through the window and his feelings took possession of his acts in a chaotic fashion.

 


And there he was, walking in circles along the corridor which took to Candy’s room, looking insistently at the clock on the wall and eyeing repeatedly through the window panes to see if a car appeared in the distance.

 


"What am I doing here?" he told himself when the reasonable side of his self tried to surface," Am I entitled to intrude in her personal life? What am I for her? Just a friend. Someone she once loved but later on left her to make promises of marriage to another woman. What do I mean to her now? Maybe just a memory of sometime in her past that she does not want to remember. Then, how do I dare to be here, waiting here as a cheated husband?" but a second after his combative part protested, "And what about her glances? What about all those times I held her hand during these months and she has not taken it away? And the daily flower in the vase, the sunsets we’ve shared in the garden, her concern about my relationship with my mother and a thousand details that have made my hopes grow? No! She is not going to get away with all those confusing messages she sends me! She owes me an explanation!"

 


And so he kept walking in circles, debating on whether he should stay or leave and torturing himself with the morbid speculations on what Candy and Yves could be doing by that time.

​

A sudden gust swept the night foreboding the imminent rain. The car stopped just in front of the personnel dormitories. Once the motor’s noise had died, a new unpleasant silence reigned between the young doctor and the blonde. They both knew that the time for their final farewells had arrived, and none of them figured out how to deal with the painful situation. Without saying a word Yves opened the driver’s seat door and got out of the car, walking around the vehicle to open Candy’s door. The girl accepted the hand that he offered to her, but once she was outside and attempted to retrieve her hand from the young man’s grip she realized that he was not letting her go.

 


"Could you reconsider your decision?" he pleaded in a last attempt, looking earnestly into the young woman’s green pools.

 


"Please, Yves. We have already discussed that," she replied in embarrassment.

 


"I understand. I apologize," he whispered bitterly, " Will I see you again before my departure?"

 


"I don’t think so," she responded with her eyes fixed on the pavement,"I will be working in surgery for two days, and I guess you are going to be on leave. Is that right?"

 


"Yes, that is right. I might just drop by to say bye to my patients and hand in a report, but I suppose you are going to be busy," he insinuated sadly, still not willing to loose the young woman’s hand, "So . . . I guess this is it . . ."

 


"Yes."

 


"Candy . . . do you want . . ." he hesitated as his heart struggled between his altruistic love for the girl and his possessive passion, "Do you want me to talk to Grandchester, man to man, perhaps I could let him know . . ."

 


"No, please!" she interrupted alarmed, "If there is something to be said, it is only between Terri and I . . . Maybe, at the end of it all, he will just go away, like you, and I will go on with my life, as I have always done," she said, finally freeing her hand from the young man’s strong hold.

 


The girl picked the train of her skirt, turning her back and walking away a few steps, but later she stopped and went back towards the young man.

 


"My friend," she said movingly, "I am really sorry to have hurt you in this way. I wish things could have been different between you and me, Yves . . . Could you ever forgive me for all the damage I caused you?"

 


"There is nothing to forgive, Candy," he replied sincerely, " Just blame fate, or luck, or this senseless war . . . I know you never meant to hurt me."

 


Candy sighed at loss of words.

 


"Farewell, my friend, and please, take care of yourself in the Front," she said offering her hand.

 


The young man took the delicate feminine hand inclining his torso towards the girl and finally leaving a deep kiss on her gloved fingers, which lingered for a few seconds, as a last stolen contact with the woman who will never be his. Just a second after his lips parted from Candy’s hand, a few raindrops began to fall in a light drizzle.

 


"Good bye, Candy. I’ll pray for your happiness," he said letting the girl go and following her with his eyes until she disappeared behind the hospital back door. He wouldn’t see her again in years.

 


The raindrops began to fall more insistently and Yves remained under the warm summery shower letting it wash his pain away. After a while, he finally reacted and got in the car, which disappeared in the distance under the increasing rain.

 


Once she had gotten inside the old building, the young woman understood that one more time someone dear to her was going out of her life. She was not in love with Yves, but it hurt awfully to lose a friend. She couldn’t avoid to shed a tear that she hurried to wipe with the embroidered handkerchief she kept inside her glove. Outside, the pouring rain was heavier each time.

​

A pair of iridescent blue eyes observed in despair the sad scene of Yves and Candy’s farewells. But from the distance, not knowing the words that were being said, and with the reason blurred by jealousy, the young man in the corridor perceived a very different version of the story. Terri’s heart burned in flames counting the minutes that Yves held Candy’s hand, imagining the endearments that he could be saying to her and thinking that every time the young woman lowered her head it was because she felt overwhelmed by the young doctor’s compliments. Then, she parted walking for a few meters, only to come back to the man standing next to the car. And when he inclined his torso towards her, Terri’s blue blood reached the boiling point, not having the courage to witness how someone else who was not himself, kissed the woman in his life. He turned his face away from the window as a tear rolled over his cheek. He did not see how Yves simply kissed Candy’s hand and she simply ran to the hospital after that.

 


Candy climbed the stairs slowly, her feet were heavy and so was her heart. She could only think of getting to her room to free herself from the pressure of the corset, take a cold shower and jump on her bed to seek in the sleep some sort of release from her grief. However, she realized that her desired rest would not be possible as soon as she discovered with astonished eyes Terri’s figure standing in the corridor, waiting for her.

The young man, who had experienced all the passions of a tortured heart in one single night, lost his last remains of reasons when he finally saw the beautiful jailer of his imprisoned soul walking towards him. He ran his eyes over the shapely silhouette wrapped in the green silk of a dress with straight skirt and a brief train. His ears perceived the soft noises of her starched underskirt with every step she gave towards him, and as she got closer he could descry the bold neckline emphasized by a draped band of dark green silk that regaled the sight of two delicate and creamy shoulders and an enticing bosom that made his pulse speed up. Inwardly, Terri cursed the dressmaker for playing with his masculine anxieties in a moment when the last thing he wanted was to melt before the woman that had doomed his night. Then, he thought that the same effect the revealing dress had on him must have been also felt by Yves and all the men in the gala, and that single reflection was enough to set him in the worst of his moods.

 


"Did Miss Audrey have a good time?" he asked sardonically, "But what a silly question of mine, she surely did. After all, it is already 2 am!"

 


Candy looked at the man with amazed eyes. What was he saying? Was he reproaching her the time she was arriving? Was he there waiting for her to scold her as if he were her father? That was the last straw! A fight with Terri after the embarrassing moments she had lived with Yves was going to be the cherry on the icing of a terrible evening!

"Please, Terri," she begged trying to avoid a new argument with the young man, "I have had a difficult day and I don’t want to fight with you now," she concluded walking past him.

 


"And who is having an argument, dear?" he replied walking behind her, not willing to spare her from his revenge, "I was just wondering if you had fun dancing with that bloody frog eater, or did he step on your little feet?"

 


"I will ignore that stupid and rude comment," she responded haughtily not slowing down her pace.

 


"Perhaps the lady should worry about her reputation," he continued mockingly, "Going out unchaperoned is not exactly the American style. I wonder what your conservative family would say if they found out how liberal you are becoming, here in France!"

 


"Ha!" smirked Candy without stopping in her way, "Isn’t it ironic how a gentleman can bluff of his abilities to conquer the affections of many women with shameless promiscuity, whereas a lady should remain pure and untouchable, always guarded by an old chaperon! Come on Terri, give me a break! This is the XXth century!"

 


"Oh I forgot that the lady is also a feminist!" he insisted, not willing to quit, "But not so radical to refuse adulation when it comes from a man, isn’t it? Didn’t he tell you a thousand times how overwhelmingly beautiful you look tonight? I’m sure that pleased your ego quite a good deal. Tell me Candy, do you enjoy making men go crazy? Do you take pleasure toying with that ridiculous French doctor?"

 


The young lady, who had at last arrived to her room’s door, stood up in silence, visibly upset with Terri’s acrid comments.

 


"How do you, of all people, dare to say such awful things?" she reproached him with inflamed ire in the depth of her green eyes, "You know me well and should be able to understand that I would never toy with Yves’ feelings!" she defended herself facing the young man.

 


"Then you are toying with mine, little spoiled brat!" he responded with the demon of jealousy possessing his mind and body.

 


At this point the young man was not the lord of his own reactions any longer. Controlled by his rage he violently seized the girl by her shoulders, fighting furiously against the shivers that the contact with her soft skin sent through his body, and pushing her until he had cornered her against the wall. He placed his hands on the wall, one on each side in a way that the young woman was trapped in a cell which bars were his arms.

Candy stood motionless, the young man’s sudden moves had taken her by surprise. His proximity was making her lower her guard against her own will. There he was, his alluring eyes flaming in blue and green fire, his agitated breath leaving his cinnamon essence into her nostrils, and to make matters worse, perhaps forced by the heat of the night, the man had taken off his shirt and she could freely admire his fitted chest and shoulders.

"I’m lost!" was the last coherent thought she could coordinate feeling angry at herself for her weakness and wishing to have the control of the situation just as he seemed to rule it.

 


However, nothing could be farther from the reality. Terri was just as lost as Candy was, overpowered by the young woman’s charms that seemed even more tempting in close up.

"Is that so, Candy?" he asked softly, "Are you toying with my feelings?"

 


"Terri, I . . ." she mumbled and her heart turned upside down when he took his hand to tilt up her chin so that she could look at him straight to the eyes.

 


The man lowered his face and Candy reacted half-closing her eyes. She was under a sort of spell that didn’t allow her to think. The rumor of the shower outside and their agitated breathing were the only things they both could hear.

 


He, on his own, looked at her rosy lips evoking the strawberry flavor he had tasted only once. But then, the memory of the scene he had seen from the window a minute ago stabbed him again.

​

"Oh Candy," he said vehemently, "I want to erase from your lips each French kiss you received this evening, forever."

 


Next, his vision went black! An acute pain on his cheek as the young woman’s hand slapped his face, woke him up from his trance. The girl, with eyes full of tears and the soul filled with indignation took advantage of his confusion to free herself from his trap and got into her room in one single move. Soon, the young man was alone in the corridor, frustrated with the aborted desire of a kiss that had never been born and with the heart broken by a new rejection. But the worst of it all was that he understood that his big mouth had ruined his chance.

 


Inside her room Candy ran to her bed where she shed the most bitter tears.

 


"How could you have said that?" she said between sobs, "When it is only you who I have ever kissed. Stupid, arrogant man!"

 


Candy’s cries died in the storm’s din. The sky rained in torrents over Paris for the rest of the night.

​

The following morning was August the 30th. Terri hadn’t got a bit of sleep in all the night and felt like the most miserable man on Earth. He knew that he wouldn’t see Candy for about two days because she had told him in advance - before their argument, of course - that she would be working full time in the surgery room. Thus, his despair was even worse. He thought about going to Candy’s room during the evening to apologize, but later on changed his mind. For him, it was obvious that he had lost the battle. Whereas Candy had a tender good bye scene with Yves the previous night, he had only won a humbling slap on the face. Couldn’t it be clearer that the French doctor had finally defeated him?

 


On the other hand, Yves Bonnot didn’t show up during the whole day. The doctor that substituted him did not explain what had happened with his young colleague, and Terri didn’t ask. So, the day passed slowly and painfully. Nothing could be worse than silence and uncertainty, the young man thought, but the following day he found out that there was a worse thing indeed.

 


That day Terri received a letter with the USA Army seal. The message said simply that he was expected to join his platoon in Verdun. The letter also included a ticket for an early train the morning of September the 2nd . The young man had been granted with a two days leave starting on August the 31st, in other words, starting that very day. He was supposed to leave the hospital at once.

 


So, after three months, his time was over and it seemed that he had wasted the chance of his life shamefully. With the load of his regrets over his shoulders Terri picked up his belongings and once he had taken off the bandage on his torso, he started to put on his uniform with slow gestures. The nurse in turned brought him some papers that he had to sign before he left the hospital and he dared to ask about Candy. The nurse could only tell him that she was assisting in an operation and since it was a difficult case she was surely going to be busy for a long time.

 


The young man said a brief goodbye to the other patients in the ward and finally, after looking around the place that had been his dwelling for almost three months, and feeling the same aches in the heart he had experienced when leaving Saint Paul’s Academy, six years before, he abandoned the ward. However, when he was already on his way, walking through the corridors, he got to see the interior garden and the Cherry tree in the distance. He stood up for a while and in his mind he saw again the moments he had enjoyed with the woman he loved. Terri realized that in all the time he had spent in Paris, he had never gathered the courage to tell her what he felt for her.

 


"You are a coward and a wimp!" he told himself, " Will you leave like that? Will you let her go again, without trying, at least once?" his interior voice demanded, "Would it really be of any use, if it is clear that she preferred him?" he argued with himself, "You said that because of what you saw, or believed you saw . . . but you never asked her directly, did you?" the voice responded in a reproach, "Wouldn’t it be good to try being sincere and open your heart to her? What can you lose?" the voice continued, "I could just receive a new humiliation, and I’m fed up with her rejection," he said, "Then flee away and let your pride be your eternal companion!" the voice ended.

 


The last thought sunk in the young man’s mind echoing again and again. Wasn’t Candy the only woman he had ever loved? . . . He could ever love? Terri took his bag and walked firmly to the garden.

 


He sat on the bench he had shared with Candy several times and getting his leather file he began to write a letter. The man’s hand worked steadily for a good while until the page was all written. He finally signed the missive and put it in an envelope.

 


It was not difficult for Terri to find Julienne Boussenières. The woman was surprised when she saw the young man dressing his uniform and with a bag on his shoulder.

 


"Madam," he said, "As you can see, I’m leaving the hospital today. I received my orders."

"In that way? I mean, so unexpectedly?" the woman asked stunned.

 


"Well, we all knew that this could happen any day, but I don’t want to leave without talking to Candy for a last time," he said, "I guess you understand what I mean, Madame."

 


"Yes, Mr. Grandchester, I do understand," the woman assented.

 


"Then, would you please give her this letter. It is important. In fact, Madame, my whole life depends on this letter now," he pleaded placing the letter on the woman’s hands.

 


"In that case, Mr. Grandchester," she replied, "You can be sure that the lady will receive your lines."

 


"Thank you Madame," he said kindly, "I hope that your husband comes back soon to you, and I wish you the best," he added offering his hand to Julienne.

 


"Same to you Mr. Grandchester," she responded with a smile.

 


The man released the woman’s hand and walked away.

​

Yves Bonnot had thought a lot about talking with Terrence. He knew that Candy wouldn’t approve it but he felt that he needed to see his rival before his departure for Arras and tell him that he accepted his defeat. It was almost a matter of honor. Yves didn’t want to leave cowardly. Unfortunately, when he arrived to the hospital that afternoon he learned that Grandchester had already abandoned the place. He wondered if the actor and Candy had finally arrived to an understanding, but since he couldn’t see the blonde, he had to leave without knowing what had happened with them. His train left Paris at 8 o’clock pm that same evening.

​

When Candy returned to her room that night all her body ached horribly. She had been working steadily for two days without much of a reward. Over half of the patients who had been operated in all that time had died during the surgery. Her frustration was absolute! But that was just one of the things she had to grieve over. The last argument with Terri, the night of the gala, had devastated her completely. She did not know whether to feel mad or guilty.

 


Terri’s jealousy had been so obvious that night that she was then certain he felt something for her beyond friendship . . . but his comments had been so offensive for the young woman, that she still felt resentful, and at the same time, she regretted her violent reaction. Her feelings for Terrence had never lacked of complexity. When she arrived to her room she only wanted to sleep deeply and forget about her problems, at least for a few hours.

 


Candy didn’t know that the events were going to force her to face her destiny instead of evading it with a good sleep. On top of her bed she found a letter with a well known hand writing. When she recognized the firm lines her heart jumped inside her chest. With nervous fingers she torn the envelope and began to read:

 


August 31st, 1918

 


My dearest Candy,

 


A letter is not the right means to express my regrets for my behavior. I owe you a formal and personal apology and hope that you would be so kind to give me that opportunity, although I know I do not deserve it. I only dare to ask for it because I’m certain that you have a noble heart.

 


As you should already know by the time you read these lines, I am out of the hospital. This morning I received orders to join my platoon in the North and I will be leaving in a couple of days, but before my departure I would love to see you, in order to tell you how ashamed I feel for the way I treated you. I must insist that things of that nature have to be said personally.

 


I know that tomorrow you’ll have a free day, as you usually do whenever you work a double turn in surgical service. I understand that it is very pretentious for me to expect that you could devote to me some of your time during your day off, but since I am leaving the day after tomorrow there is no other moment I can meet you to talk. I have so many things to tell you Candy, not only my humble apologies, but many other issues I couldn’t tell you in all these months. Perhaps what I can say to you is obsolete or futile, but I have to do it. Please, I beg you, give me the opportunity to talk with you.

Nevertheless, if you decide that you have already had enough of me, I will understand it and accept that I have lost your friendship for ever. If that is the case, I am the only one to blame. Anyway, I will always bless my luck for giving me the grace of meeting you and cherish your memory until the end of my days.

 


On the contrary, if you still believe that this old friend of your deserves a last chance, please my dear Candy, meet me tomorrow at noon, at LuxembourgGarden. I will be waiting for you around the central fountain in front of the Palace.

 


If you don’t meet me there, I will respect your decision and never bother you again for the rest of my life. You have my word.

 


Always yours,


Terrence G. Grandchester.

 

[domniki]

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

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The lark and the nightingale.

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​

​

​

How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.


I love thee to the depth and breadth and height


My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight


For the ends of Being and ideal Grace.


I love thee to the level of everydayʼs


Most quiet need, by sun and candle-light.


I love thee freely, as men strive for Right;


I love thee purely, as they turn from Praise.


I love thee with the passion put to use


In my old griefs, and with my childhoodʼs faith.


I love thee with a love I seemed to lose


With my lost saints, - I love thee with the breath,


Smiles, tears, of all my life!- and, if God choose,


I shall but love thee better after death.

​

​

- Elizabeth Barrett Browning.

​

​

Candy sat down on the bed grazing her lips with the letter that she had read for the hundredth time. She closed her eyes while her feelings besieged her tired soul. Oddly, all the worries, fears and resentments that had tormented her during the previous two days had been relegated to second place. Suddenly, the only thing that mattered for her was the certainty that Terrence was about to leave Paris to face death in the Western Front . . .

"The day after tomorrow, . . ." she thought with trembling hands, "youʼll be away the day after tomorrow! In just two days you will be buried once more in one of those awfully dark trenches waiting for your turn to be sent to the fire line."

Candy could not avoid the gloomy images and terrifying sounds that invaded her mind while the tears began to bathe her face. She remembered her own experience the evening when Duvall died, the sound of the detonations, the cries of the wounded and the dismaying vision of Terriʼs bleeding body the night when he had arrived to the hospital.

"All mighty God! I knew this was going to happen . . .but in the bottom of my soul I hoped . . .I begged you Lord so many times for the end of this war, so that he would never be sent to that hell. . . And now" she continued between her quiet sobs, " . . . and now heʼs going back there . . . How am I going to live knowing that he, who is my very soul, is risking his precious life again?"

The young woman unfolded the paper one more time and reread the last lines …

"Please my dear Candy, meet me tomorrow at noon, at LuxembourgGarden. I will be waiting for you around the central fountain in front of the Palace."

"He wants to see me!" she repeated to herself with excited air, "Terri wants to see me before he leaves!…… But, what should I do when I have him in front of me? What can I say after the things that happened between us the other night?"

======

​

Paris is divided by a river, the Seine, which has been a natural frontier between two different areas, the two faces of Paris. The world of affairs and night life is on the right bank or "rive droite", whereas the left side is traditionally known as the Latin Neighborhood or "Quartier Latin", the home of the Sorbone, the artists and the intellectuals. Students and dreamers, Chopin and Lizst, Baudelaire and Picasso are some of the characters that have populated the "rive gauche" at some time in the past. A pearl in the heart of this Parisian version of the Platonic Academy is the Palace of Luxembourg, beautiful and luxurious building surrounded by a large garden that has witnessed four centuries of French history.

The Luxembourg garden was built by Marie de Médicis at the beginning of the XVII century. It is an enormous extension of 224 500 sq. meters around the palace, which originally covered a larger area, but through years has suffered a certain number of amputations. Notwithstanding those changes, the garden has not diminished its beauty. The LuxembourgGarden was first opened to the public by the Prince Gaston dʼOrleans, during the XVIII century . Even though after that date there have been certain periods when the Gardenʼs doors were closed to the regular visitor, it is nowadays and since the XIX century one of the dearest parks in the city, one of the most important landmarks in the French capital, elegant playground for many children, meeting site for lovers, usual walking area for students and scenario of Victor Hugoʼs greatest novel.

To the right, Saint Michelle Boulevard; to the left, Guynemer St; behind, Vaugirard St. and right on the front, Auguste Compte St. The Sorbone is just a block away. That is the location of the historical place ornamented by the biggest polygonal fountain in which the small visitors traditionally amuse themselves playing with toy sailboats. Beautiful walks surrounded by trees and delicate statues, quiet and refreshing spots where people can sit on a Renaissance railing, on a solitary bench, or by a fountain side, that and more is LuxembourgGarden.

With every step she gave, the pleats of her gored skirt flowed in a white illusion of linen and organdy. Adorned with a white bow, her hair covered her back in golden spirals that reflected the sunlight and sometimes the scarce summery wind made a fugitive curl brush her cheeks. The nervousness in her face could be easily seen as her green irises focused on a still blurry spot at the end of the long path she was crossing.

Candy crushed her white pouch with apprehensive fingers while in her mind she remembered the conversation she had sustained with Julienne the night before, trying to give herself some courage and knowing that with each stride she was closer to the central fountain.

"What am I going to do now, Julie?" the younger woman had asked melancholically.

"Donʼt you love him?" the brunette had responded with another question,

"With all my heart," had been Candyʼs immediate answer.

"Isnʼt it obvious that he loves you in return?" Julienne asked again.

"He has never said it . . . though . . . the other evening he was so jealous!" the blonde murmured thoughtful.

"Then, I donʼt see why you should be wondering what you have to do," the older woman said smiling.

"I am afraid, Julie," the young woman confessed, "I donʼt know what I could say, how to react. "

Julienne smiled sweetly taking Candyʼs hand to give her courage.

"Donʼt think about that," she explained in a whisper with a conspirational expression in her eyes, "Follow your heart, Candy, just follow your heart. Each beat will tell you the right thing to do when the moment comes."

"I am so nervous that I canʼt coordinate my ideas in here," the girl said pointing to her head with a nervous giggle.

"Then trust me and Iʼll tell you what you have to do now," the older woman explained.

"What?"

"Drink this," Julienne commanded softly giving Candy a cup she had previously left resting on the small desk, near the bed, "It will help you to have a good sleep. Tomorrow youʼll dress up beautifully and attend to that appointment. Let love do the rest."

Candy had followed her friendʼs advice and when the tea had taken the expected effect she fell into a dreamless sleep that night.

"Let love do the rest . . . let love do the rest." Candy repeated it in her head while she continued walking along the park.

As it was Saturday morning, the place was full of people, especially mothers and nannies with small children. As she walked among the kids that ran across the garden her heart beat faster with such loud pumps that she thought they could be heard at every corner of the enormous garden and even in the Palace chambers. Suddenly, she realized that she had already arrived to the place. She saw the huge fountain and wondered where exactly he could be. She observed the amazing size of the polygonal monument and the many people sitting and walking around it. She would probably have to walk for hundreds of meters before she could spot Terrence among the rest of the visitors.

However, a sudden hunch told her not to move for a while and only let the voices in her soul tell her where he was. She stood silently for a few seconds and later on she began to walk as if an internal force were driving her towards her destination. She didnʼt struggle to find him. There he was, standing up with his characteristic gallant air, wide shoulders that made her feel small and his right foot slightly patting on the floor.

"He is getting desperate," she guessed smiling softly. She remained motionless for a while admiring his figure and she forgot in that very moment the last bit of resentment for the words said a couple of nights before.

=========

​

​

His eyes were lost on the water surface, following the trace of one of those toy sail boats that left a waving stele on the crystalline liquid. Anyone who had seen the young man dressed in a dark green uniform, standing quiescently near the fountain would have thought that he was another statue in the park, so collected and calm he seemed. Nobody would have been able to perceive the terrible turmoil inside him.

He was nervous. God Heavens! He was indeed more nervous than in a premiere. Would she arrive to the date? What if she didnʼt attend? How was he going to continue with life? His chest was a boiling caldron and unconsciously his body searched for a release patting on the paved path with discrete movements of his foot. If she was planning to attend she was already late . . . but maybe she had just decided not to go . . . the expectation was hurtful.

It was then when a fast and acute pain stroke his chest for a second and immediately after a rose fragrance reached his nostrils. Terri knew then that his heart had described Candyʼs presence behind his back. Still afraid of lying to himself, he refused to turn and see if she was really there.

"Hello," said a sweet voice and he knew his heart had not lied.

The young man turned slowly and when he saw the tiny young lady in front of him, his eyes got lost in the whiteness of her figure, but he could not say a word. The girl noticed his great tension and she encouraged him with a smile that worked miracles in the man.

"Hello, Candy," he responded smiling back as he regained his usual self control, or at least part of it, "I . . . I am so glad you came."

"Well, I didnʼt have any other plans for today . . . So . . . I told myself that it could be a good idea to accept certain soldierʼs invitation," she responded casually trying to ease the strained atmosphere.

"Thank you," was his only answer but Candy understood he had said it from his heart.

"Now, could you tell me what plans you have for the tour?" she asked with a brisk expression in her face, feeling more at ease at the manʼs presence. A familiar warmth had begun to wrap her soul at his proximity.

"Er…I… I was wondering," he mumbled, "if you would like to walk around the garden. It is a beautiful place and there are so many spots that are worthy to see. Have you been here before?"

"Yes, I came here with Julie and . . . and other friends," Candy explained avoiding the mention of Yves, "but we were short of time in that occasion, so I didnʼt get to see much."

"Then, let me show you everything here," he suggested, "Have I ever told you that when I was 12 my father sent me here for a summer course?"

"No, never," she responded surprised, "That was nice of him."

"I must admit that at the beginning I didnʼt want to come," he explained, "In that time I was too resentful because of my fatherʼs abandonment, but now I thank him for the experience. I came to this place several times during that summer."

"That must have been exciting!" the young woman commented, "It was very kind of your teachers in the summer school to bring you here."

"Oh no, they didnʼt do that," Terry admitted wearing his devilish smile for the first time in three days, "I used to come here on my own," he added while he scratched his temples with a cunning gesture.

"You slipped away, you want to mean!" Candy said accusingly.

"If you want to put it that way . . . I would rather say that I used to explore on my own."

Candy laughed gaily and the sun rose for Terri. The couple began to walk around the fountain with a lazy pace.

========

​

"How many years have passed since the last time we walked together like this, Candy?" Terry thought as they strolled around the Palace lawns full of multicolor flowers. "The times we spent in the Blue River Zoo . . . Those carefree days are so far away…and yet, your smile is still as bright as it was then, so full of light and fresh sweetness. What do you have Candice White that whenever I am besides you a powerful torrent of energy fills me from top to toe? You add light to my shadowed painting, making a beautiful chiaroscuro out of it."

They continued walking, chatting about a thousand futile things, and laughing at the silliest detail while their feet took them along a tree-lined walkway.

"Only you know how to make me feel this way, Terri," Candy said to herself, pretending to be totally absorbed in her contemplation of Panʼs Statue. "As if I have never felt afraid or lonely, as if a missing part inside me finally found its place and an intimate warmth wrapped my heart protecting me from the coldest winter. You are the bonfire that keeps my soul warm."

They kept on their walk until they reached Marie de Médicisʼ statue and they decided to have a rest on a nearby bench.

"This place is so wonderful," said the girl excitingly, "Every single inch is full of beauty and harmony! And look at those oaks over there. Arenʼt they gorgeous?"

"Tell me, Candy," inquired the young man amused at the girlʼs enthusiasm, "How do you keep that capacity to be astonished by everything?"

"I donʼt do anything . . . it is just that this world is so amazing!" she responded smiling, "Everywhere I turn I have found a million reasons to admire and thank God for life. Donʼt you feel the same Terri?"

"Well, my ability to appreciate things is being overshadowed by the noises in my stomach!" he pointed out with a wink, "Arenʼt you hungry?"

"Now that you say it," she replied, "I think it would be great to have lunch."

"Then I invite you. I know a bistro around here where they serve good food," he suggested.

"Will you risk to invite me?" she joked. "You know that my appetite and I could lead you to the bankruptcy."

"Iʼll take the risk," he said smiling and standing up he offered his arm to the young lady.

Candy hesitated for a second but she finally accepted the gallantry placing her hand on his arm despite the electric shocks that ran through her muscles at the first contact. Soon they were walking towards the Eastern Gate in order to take Saint Michelle Boulevard.

========

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The afternoon sun bathed the "rive gauche" reflecting its light over the red and white awnings on the little restaurants and bars along the boulevard. In other times real hordes of young men, mostly students, would be crowding the places to take a light snack at that time of the day. But in that summer many of those students had left Paris to reinforce the French troops in the Western Front. So, the once prosperous restaurants were practically empty and the employees languished in boredom.

Terri took Candy to one of those little bistros along Saint Michelle Boulevard with iron chairs painted in bright colors and impeccably white tablecloths. The tables were disposed in and out the restaurant, on each one there was a blue crystal vase with a red rose to ornament the atmosphere and in the interior of the place a young man played an old piano from time to time, to make the meal more enjoyable. The young couple chose one chair inside the bistro and despite Candyʼs jokes about her own appetite she only ordered a light meal.

Terry was resting his face on his left hand with his elbow on the table, and with the other one he moved the fork lazily, too busy looking at the blond woman in front of him to pay attention to the food on the plate. The girl, totally aware of the young manʼs scrutiny over her, tried to concentrate on her plate, eating at a steady pace with the eyes fully focused in her salad as though it were the most fascinating thing in the entire world. Then, when she finally dared to raise her eyes, she found a couple of blue lanterns taking aim at her with insistent light.

"Candy," he said breaking the silence and the young woman felt that her heart stopped at the sound of his voice, "I am sorry," he said only.

"Beg your pardon?" she asked leaving aside her plate, still unbelieving at what she had clearly heard.

"I am sorry, I said," the young man repeated with a serious expression in his fine features, "I asked you to meet me today because I wanted to apologize for my behavior the other evening."

"And . . ." she only got to say.

"And, therefore I apologize, Candy," he said, and obeying to an undying habit he trapped Candyʼs hand, "Iʼm terribly sorry for the awful things I said . . . I donʼt even have the right to be sharing this time with you. Perhaps you shouldnʼt have come at all, so that I really received what I deserved . . . " he said with hoarse voice and she felt how his hand crushed hers nervously, "But I was so fortunate that you came . . . Thank you Candy!"

"I accept your apologies, Terri," she replied not able to look at his eyes directly, "I was not that sweet either . . . Letʼs not talk about that anymore. Just imagine it never happened and we are again the same good friends weʼve always been."

"O.K. . . . Good friends, then . . . as always," he mumbled deviating his look to the man who was playing the piano in one corner of the restaurant, while the actorʼs fingers began to caress lightly the back of Candyʼs hand. The contact with her skin and her conciliatory words were so encouraging that that he had began to recover his usual boldness.

The silence reigned for a brief moment, neither the man nor the woman opened their lips to talk, while the musician in the corner ended his song. The young artist took a glass of wine that the bistroʼs owner had sent for him, as usual, and rested for a while. Another young man sitting at the table next to Candy and Terriʼs, stood up unexpectedly and approached the pianist. Both men seemed to know each other very well and talked vividly with great familiarity. In another corner of the bistro, a middle age couple was having lunch and a few meters from them, a man in uniform drank a beer with slow sips. The waiters talked among themselves trying to chase their boredom away by sharing jokes and anecdotes. It was then when the pianist stood up and talked to the reduced audience.

"Dear friends," he said in an informal tone, "My pal Jacques Prévert, here with me, who some of you already know, has written another of his beautiful poems and I dared to write some music to make it into a song. I hope you like it and remember it when Jacques becomes a famous poet. Because, believe me, Iʼm sure he will be famous someday."

The young pianist sat down in front of the instrument and with skillful fingers he began to caress the ivory keys. A cascade of melancholic notes escaped out of the old piano chords and invaded the room reaching Candyʼs ears. The sweet and sad melodic line of the song made her concentrate her attention in the lyrics, but despite the year she had lived in France, her ear was still not sufficiently trained to understand the words in the song.

"The music is beautiful," she murmured softly, "Itʼs a pity I donʼt understand quite well the lyrics," she confessed, "But Iʼm sure the poem that inspired such a song must be beautiful as well."

"And it is," Terri replied, still holding the blondeʼs hand, "Very sad, though."

"What does it say?"

"Well, it seems that the poet is talking about a past love he still cannot forget. Do you want me to translate it for you?" he asked plunging his blue sight into hers.

"Please."

"Let me see . . . he says:

I wish you could remember


About the days when we were friends,


On that time life was more beautiful,


And the sun more ardent than today.


The dead leaves are taken away,


Along with the memories and the regrets,


The Northern wind blows them all away


Into the chilling night of the oblivion,


You see, I havenʼt forgotten


The song you used to sing to me."

​

​

Candy listened to Terriʼs words while her heart stopped for a second. It seemed that each line in the poem had been written to describe her own feelings, with the precise words she was not able to say.

"It is so melancholic," she whispered while she felt her hand burn under the young manʼs touch.

"And it says more. Listen, now he sings the chorus:

Itʼs a song that identifies us with each other,


You loved me and I loved you,


And we lived so united,


You, who loved me, I, who loved you.


But life separates, those who love each other,


So quietly, without making any noise,


And the sea effaces over the sand,


The foot prints of those lovers who had been detached."

​

​

The last notes died in the piano and Terri also went quiet. So many times in the past his soul had cried with the same regretful feelings the poem depicted, that he couldnʼt avoid to be amazed by the coincidence. He looked at the young poet who, sat with a blasé air, smoking a cigarette in a corner of the bistro. The man was still a teenager and was probably as young as Terri had been that winter evening when he had lost the woman in his life. . . . But now he was there, holding her hand and the single fact that she had attended to the appointment gave him strength to keep on.

"Candy," he called her as an idea came to his mind, "There is a promise you made me which you havenʼt kept yet."

"Oh really?" she asked coming back from her own internal world.

"Yes, you said that you would dance with me when I had recovered from my wounds, for old timesʼ sake. Do you remember?"

"I think I do," she replied with a shy smile.

"Then …would you dance with me now?"

"Here?" she wondered looking around in disbelief.

"Why not? Thereʼs room to dance, music , you and I. What else do you need?" he asked with a mischievous grin, and a second later with more serious tone he added, "Tomorrow Iʼll be away and God knows when youʼll be able to keep your word, if you donʼt do it now."

Candy felt a jab in her chest when he mentioned his proximate depart and then it didnʼt matter to feel embarrassed dancing with Terrence in front of the few people in the restaurant. Yet, she didnʼt answer.

"I guess you donʼt want to besmirch the Audreyʼs honor. Albert wouldnʼt like that," he prompted her with a playful wink, seeing that she kept quiet.

"No, of course not," she replied at last, "I accept."

Terri stood up and walked towards the pianist who was again taking a rest.

"Excusez moi, monsieur," he addressed to the man, "Voudriez vous jouer une autre fois la chanson de votre ami?"(Excuse me, sir. Would you like to play again your friendʼs song ?)

"Pour la belle dame qui est avec vous monsieur," responded the pianist with a smile, "Moi, je jouerais jusquʼà la fin du monde," he concluded and without any other comment he began to play looking how the couple stood up and began to dance. (For the beautiful lady who is with you, sir, I would play till the end of this world comes)

As the musicianʼs slightly husky but melodic voice began again to fill the air, Candy forgot for a magic moment about all the terrible nervousness that claimed her heart every time she was close to Terrence. He held her softly while their bodies moved slowly with the mellow song and she could feel his breathing caressing her temples. A sweet warmth crept along their skin, penetrating by every pore and reaching their heartsʼ depth. Such things do not happen if the human soul is not totally exposed as their souls were in that moment.

"Now I understand another part of the song," Terri murmured to Candyʼs ear.

"What does it say," she asked in a sigh, while the overwhelming awareness of being embraced by the young man made her spine tremble.

"It says:

The dead leaves are taken away,


Along with the memories and the regrets,


But my love silent and faithful,


Always smiles and thanks life.


I loved you so much, you were so pretty!


How do you want me to forget about you?


On that time life was more beautiful,


And the sun more ardent than today.


You were my sweetest friend,


But now I only have my regrets


And the song you used to sing to me


Iʼll always, always, listen to it."

​

​

"I think I understand well what he means with that last part," she ventured to say, moved by the words that reminded her of another song she kept in a golden corner of her mind.

"Tell me," he whispered.

"I guess he means that he will always remember that song in his heart, as he cherishes his love for her," she responded while she parted from Terriʼs embrace and the singerʼs voice died along with the piano notes.

The young couple came back to their table and the pianist followed them with his dark eyes envying the soldier who was the lucky possessor of that womanʼs love. For, you see, it was obvious to the young musician that she loved him with every beat of her heart. The blonde and the soldier sat down again at their table and in silence they finished their meal while their pulse slowly recovered from the dulcet exaltation that the physical closeness had aroused in both of them, enhanced by the music and the words in the poem.

Candy left her plate and her malachite irises wandered on the street that she could see through the bistroʼs windows. A truck full of soldiers with the British flag passed by in that moment, and again the young woman remembered about the hurtful truth of the historical moment they were living.

"What time are you leaving tomorrow?" she asked trying to hold the tears she already felt inside her soul as she sipped her wine.

"At nine," he replied with inexpressive voice.

"Iʼd like to see you off," she whispered, still looking through the window.

"But youʼll be working by that time," he objected trying to encounter her green sight.

"Iʼll manage, donʼt worry," the blonde responded casually, making great efforts to remain collected.

"I have a better idea," Terri ventured to suggest while crushing the napkin in his right hand nervously, "Would you spend the rest of the afternoon with me?"

The young woman turned her head and finally faced the huge blue lagoons that looked at her with earnest light. He was pleading with his eyes and she understood that a man like him did not do such a thing very often.

"Iʼd love to," she said, and he regaled her with one of his rare smiles.

========




Paris in summer was always crowded by tourists, but since the war had started the ancient streets were not as busy with visitors as they used to be. Normally, those boats that take the tourists for a ride along the Seine and around the islands are always full of people on a Saturday afternoon, but that day only a few passengers enjoyed that charming pleasure.

A young woman with long and curly hair was holding the boatʼs railing with both of her hands while half of her slender body hung out the boat and her eyes looked at the white stele over the riverʼs surface. The young soldier next to her seemed to be quite amused with the girlʼs sparkling chat. To their left, the majestic view of Notre Dame gothic lines could be spotted more and more clearly as the boat approached the "Ile de la cite", one of the two islands in the middle of the River, on which this famous cathedral is built.

The blond girl did not stop speaking. It was as if a torrent of words, born in somewhere of her tiny being, were bursting out of control. Her eyes reflected the naïveté of a child along with the blue shadows of the Seine, but something in her glittering expression also told the clever observer that she did not look at the man with her as a child would have done it. On the other hand, the soldier listened to his talkative companion with an attentive ear, and from time to time he responded with a few words or a teasing comment that always resulted in a funny face made by the blonde. They both made such a harmonious sight that any sensitive soul would have been delighted just to look at them.

"Albert replied to my letter. Did I tell you?" Terri asked casually.

"No, you didnʼt! What does he say?" Candy inquired excitingly.

"He seemed very pleased because I wrote to him. He told me that he was glad that I am doing fine after the surgery and even shared with me some of his plans. It is clear that he is still the sensible and kind man I once met," explained the young man.

"Doesnʼt it feel nice to be in touch with your friends?" she wondered, leaving the railing and sitting down on the bench nearby.

"Yes, I must admit it," he replied following her and sitting down next to the girl, "I wouldnʼt have done it if it werenʼt for you, thanks."

"Oh, not at all," she responded, "I know well how it helps to receive good news from home when you are away."

"You miss them all. Donʼt you?" he asked in a murmur.

Candy, with both of her hands behind her neck and looking at the river waves, sighed loudly.

"Yes, I do," she accepted, "I have been here for over a year. Itʼs the longest time I have ever been away from home in my whole life."

"And certainly, it has not been a pleasure cruise, but hard work. I know because I have seen it with my own eyes," he said and his voice denoted a deep admiration towards the woman in front of him.

"But I donʼt complain," she hurried to explain, "I have met lots of wonderful people here and had the chance to make peace with Flammy."

"She has changed a lot since the time I first saw her in Chicago. I remember that she was able to kill a man with one of her glances and not exactly for her eyesʼ beauty," Terri commented with a grin.

"You are cruel!" Candy retorted, "She is a great nurse and you should admire her. I am very proud to be her friend."

"I am sure she has always been a good nurse, but before she was even worse than Nancy, and now she is . . . how should I put it? . . . Less frightening?"

"You never cease, donʼt you?" Candy laughed, " Anyway, I am glad that I reencountered Flammy here... and there is also Julie, and of course Dr. Duvall. Without him I wouldnʼt be here talking to you . . ." she added with a melancholic tone.

"The doctor who saved your life, isnʼt he?" Terri demanded, feeling inside that he was in debt to the man he had never met. "I also owe him my life, for he saved hers," he thought.

"Yes. I wish you had met him, Terri. He was the one of the greatest men I have ever known," she said vehemently.

"I am sure. I think you are right, despite all the pain and death, this war has brought some good things," he went on, "If it werenʼt for it, I wouldnʼt have been able to see you again. . ." he whispered.

The girl lowered her eyes feeling again the same nervousness that had gained her chest when she was dancing with Terri in the bistro. She deviated the conversation.

"Well, the river Seine is not Michigan lake," she giggled, "But it is also beautiful."

"You have many memories linked to that lake," he inquired curious.

"So many, Terri, it means my childhood, my adolescence, the dawn of my life. People who were once so important to me are now away in a place I cannot reach because it is beyond this world. Their memory will be always be connected to that lake. For example, when I met Stear he gave me a ride to the Lokaʼs and his car broke down just on a bridge over the lake. We both fell into the water, got soaked to the bones, gained a few bruises and had lots of fun," the girl said with a sad smile.

"You never told me that," he said interested in the tale.

"Now you know it. I met Albert near the lake, as well, and Archie, and …" she stopped dryly.

"And Anthony," the young men completed the sentence guessing it not without a hint of jealousy. No matter how many things could have happened between him and the blond, Anthony was a memory he could not erase in the girlʼs heart. He knew it, and the most reasonable part of his heart accepted it with stoicism, but his visceral side, still felt resented with life because he would have wanted to be the only one in Candyʼs heart. Yet, Anthony was not his main worry at the present. There was another name that had not been mentioned in the whole day that was a greater danger.

"Yes, Anthony," avowed the girl, but she did not continue the conversation knowing well how Terri felt about the unfortunate boy that she once had loved during her puberty.

"You know Candy," Terri commented looking at the river, "I wish someday I could contemplate Lake Michigan with you."

She turned her eyes and saw the young man while he plunged his blue apples into the Seine depths. She delighted her sight at his perfect profile and let escape a suffocated sigh.

"I wish it too," she said simply and did not add any further comment. However, for Terri it had been enough to feel encouraged.

========

"Look. That's the most ancient color of the World.


Shade of Sky and Water..."

​

Terry's calm whisper was brought to me on the gentle breeze


Then just passed by.

​

We have been looking toward the same direction for a long while


Instead of staring at each other.

​

Maybe he did not say a single word,


But my ears heard the dream like tone of serene note.

​

"Look,Candy. That's the Shade of Sky and Water,


The most ancient color of the World..."

​

​

- Kyoko Mizuki

​

​

The avenues next to the River Seine are called "quais", and they all make a long boulevard dissected by the bridges that connect the two banks. When the boat finished the tour, it left the passengers on "Quai des Agustins" and the young couple walked along this avenue until they reached Saint Michelle bridge, which connects the "Quartier Latin" with the "Ile de la cite". It was thirty minutes past five and little by little the sunset colors were starting to paint the horizon. Terri and Candy were looking at the river while leaning on the bridge stone railing. A few meters from them an organ grinder played his instrument for a few coins while his little daughter played with a ball near him.

Candy was staring at the sky when she felt that a huge red ball hit her legs. The young woman turned to see what had happened and she encountered a couple of impossibly large black eyes that were looking at her with naïve curiosity. Candy bent her body and couched down taking the bouncing ball in her hands.

"Cʼest à toi?" asked Candy with one of her dazzling smiles. (Is it yours?)

"Oui," answered the little girl who should have been three of four years old.

Candy extended her arms towards the child to give her the ball and she could not refrain the natural temptation to touch the little girlʼs soft cheeks. The childʼs big eyes looked at her with a startled admiration, as though they were seeing an unearthly vision.

"Comment tu tʼappelles?" demanded Candy moved by her motherly impulse. (What is your name?)

"Giannina . . ." the girl said with astoundingly well articulated syllables.

With the candid confidence that only small children have, the girl pulled one of Candyʼs blond locks and smiled brightly when she noticed that the curls twirled again when she loosened them. That way Candy understood that the girl was astonished by her hair, which she found especially funny. Both, girl and woman, giggled amused with their mutual discovery.

"Iʼm sure she will be a tender and loving mother," thought Terri who was beholding the scene in silence, ". . . I wish those children of hers could also be mine."

"Giannina! Giannina!" called the man with the organ and the girl immediately ran away towards her father.

Candy stood up while looking how the little girl walked away holding her fatherʼs hand. Before she disappeared completely behind the bridgeʼs curve, the child turned back and waved her hand to Candy. The blonde also responded by waving her hand and smiling.

"She is a cutie," commented Candy when she could not see the little girl anymore.

Terri only answered with a slight smile and continued looking at the horizon. They both remained in silence for a long time as the sunset continued painting its everyday masterpiece. Nevertheless, the apparent calm in the young manʼs face was only the mask that hid his agitated thoughts. There was a question that was aching in his heart and he knew that he was running out of time…if he was going to ask it, the question had to be posed right away.

"You know Candy," he began with his heart pounding loudly.

"Yes, Terri," she responded.

"I am kind of sorry because I left the hospital without seeing Bonnot for a last time. Iʼm afraid I couldnʼt thank him as it should be," Terri commented naturally . . .Well, he had finally mentioned his rivalʼs name…from then on only luck could tell.

"Yves is not in Paris anymore," replied Candy with sad tone, "he was sent to the North the same day you left the hospital."

"Oh really?" asked Terri stunned by the news, "And . . . and I guess you are not very happy for that," he suggested, hurt by the worrying face Candy had made when she mentioned Yvesʼ departure.

The last words sunk in Candyʼs ears with slow waves. She understood that Terryʼs question was inquiring for more than he was willing to let see . . . But…How was she supposed to answer?

"It is not that it makes me happy to know that a friend is risking his life in the Front" she finally said not knowing if she had chosen the right words.

"I guess you…youʼll miss him," he dared to ask.

"Well . . ." she hesitated a bit, "yes . . ." and she went quiet. She chided herself for not being able to finish the sentence that she had thought "not as much as I will miss you, Terri," but somehow the words didnʼt come out of her throat.

Again both of them remained in silence. The woman, regretting her lack of courage; the man, beginning to think that he had been finally defeated by the French physician.

It was then when the sunset lights reached the summit of their beauty in a orgy of color and glitters, and the last beams of the sun melted with the first twinkling rays of the evening star. Candy and Terriʼs souls were captivated by the magic of the moment. Their glances got lost over the riverʼs blue surface, which seemed to meet the blue background in the sky in a far away point in the horizon. It was the most antique color of the creation, painted in iridescent tones over Paris, by the universe supreme artist.

"Beautiful . . . the most ancient color of the world . . .simply beautiful," she thought and in that moment her mental words ran through the fine invisible thread that united her heart with Terriʼs own.

"Yes it is amazingly beautiful," he responded aloud and a second after both of them were looking at each other with startled eyes. They didnʼt say anything, but they understood in that instant that they had experienced again, for the third time in their lives, that mysterious link that united them with undying force.

In one single sigh, a vast collection of dear images were displayed in Terriʼs mind. He saw again the Queen Mary in the foggy night and the light of two green emeralds looking at him with a kindness he had never seen before in a stranger. He remembered every furtive encounter that he consciously used to seek during his school days. He lived again the moments of that vibrant summer and felt again the sweet warmth of Candyʼs embrace. He experienced the yearning, the repeated separations, the feeling of total loss and the immense ache of his regrets. He tasted once more the sweet and bitter flavor of the reencounter in a snowy night, the awakening in the hospital room, the ecstasy of each day shared by the side of that woman with whom his soul was magically connected. And then, he realized that he was about to lose her for ever . . . unless he tried a last resource: the truth . . . but again a terrible knot in his throat didnʼt let him speak.

They looked at each other without being able to articulate a word. The noises of the passerby faded with the pounding of their hearts. Candy felt that the heavy pressure on her chest invaded her temples and made her feel dizzier. Terri, on his own, was paralyzed as if he were in one of his dreams. Before he could avoid it, a solitary tear rolled over his cheek. And miraculously, as though the fresh sensation of its wetness had woken him up, he finally got the courage to open his lips.

"I have been a fool," he mumbled.

At the very first tone of his voice, Candyʼs tears found a way out and she turned her head, searching for an imaginary point in the nothingness of the water. Her face was convulsed by the deep emotions revolving inside.

"Such a fool, Candy," he continued huskily, "All these years, since that New Yearʼs Eve when we first met, every single minute, every day, every season, in each dream and within all my heartbeats, oh Candy, it has always been you the only one I have ever loved," he said releasing a deep sob.

She turned again to see him and this time her emerald eyes could not escape to his blue sight. Yet, she could not speak.

"I know now that I made the mistake of my life when I let you go that evening in New York," he confessed and his words surprised her.

"You did what was right," she spoke at last.

"No!" he denied with a firm nod, "Time taught me I was wrong. Iʼve learnt the hard way that it was not moral to betray my feelings towards you."

"But she needed you, she needed you!" she repeated between sobs.

"Yes, but I could not give her what she needed from me. Because I had already given it to you since the first time I laid my eyes on you. Donʼt you see that I only know how to be yours? Thereʼs no use denying it anymore. I never, ever got over you, Candy. You are engraved in my heart, your memory runs in my veins and pulses within my heart. It is you and only you whom I have always loved… even if I never knew how to show it to you thoroughly."

"Terri!" she gasped and believed that her soul would go out of her mouth.

"Candy, you have no idea how I tried to love her, but every time I looked into my heart I only could feel my love for you in there. There is not space for another love in me but the love for you. It was not right to pretend that I could be a good husband for her when my soul had already been betrothed to yours since the dawn of times. I was the one who should have understood this and when it was still time break with that lie and fight for the love we shared. Iʼve been just an idiot and during these last days I have not been quite smarter either. Instead of telling you what I have right here," he said touching his chest, "I acted as an irrational and idiotic moron, full of jealousy and pride," he ended bending his head in shame.

"Terri, please, stop that," she begged, "If it was a mistake to split apart, then I take part of the responsibility too. For I was the one who first decided to leave. If that decision of mine only brought you pain, then I am the one to blame." she admitted. "If this separation made you suffer instead of helping you to feel better. . . then I hurt you and I bitterly regret it!" she concluded with the saddest expression in her face.

"It is not so, it is not so," he hurried to say lifting his eyes, " I was the one who first hid from you what was happening . . . I was going to tell you everything, but I just didnʼt join the courage to explain it to you before you learnt it all by yourself . . . and later on I made matters worse giving my word of marriage to a woman I could not love. I betrayed our love, I abandoned you . . . Oh Candy! I know well that words are never enough to compensate for all the pain caused, but I need to ask you for your forgiveness . . . Could. . .Could you ever forgive me, Candy?" he asked her with earnest look.

She stood motionless for endless seconds and he felt that death was creeping his heart.

"Have I ever been able to keep any resentments against you?" she murmured and the glory of hope opened its doors for him.

"Candy!" he gasped and then, with new courage regained, he approached the girl a few steps," Candy, the other evening in the hospital, I saw your farewells with Yves and I was sure that I had lost you for ever. In fact, even in this moment, I accept that I am not a rival for a man who has never hurt you as I did. . . . I . . . I shake in fear thinking that he could already have a special place in your heart . . . . that place that once was mine and I did not know how to preserve. . . . Yesterday, I was convinced that I had been exiled from your heart for ever, yet something inside told me that I had to try at least once telling you the truth about my undying feelings for you . . . I know I am not deserving, I know I should not be saying these words but . . . If. . . you forgive me . . .Could it be possible that you bear this confession? . . I know that what we once had is all over . . . But, despite of my many faults I also love you . . . now and always . . . "

"Terri . . . I . . ." was all she could gasp as the manʼs words continued filling her ears taking her into a magical dreamland.

"No, donʼt say anything, not yet . . ." he pleaded, "I am opening my heart to you but I donʼt expect my love to be requited. If you tell me now that Yves has won your affections I will understand it absolutely . . . However, if you are still hesitant about your feelings, then Candy, please tell me what you want me to do to regain your love . . . Iʼll do anything you want . . . Could I . . . If I try . . .if I become a better man . . . could I ever expect to have you back? Could I believe that I still can recover you despite Yvesʼ love for you?"

Candy lowered her head and Terri felt that the very hell opened under his feet, but this sensation only lasted for an instant until he saw how the girl, with the head still hung, extended her right arm towards him opening her palm. Then, she lifted her face full of tears and without being able to produce any sound her lips opened to pronounce two simple words that she had repeated over and over during all the months he had spent in hospital, every time she helped him up, but now the words gained new deep meaning.

"Come here," she said in a whisper.

The young man moved slowly towards her. Still unbelieving the meaning in Candyʼs gesture. When he was close enough she received him warmly resting her head on his chest, while his hands found their place on her waist in a tender embrace. They didnʼt speak for a few minutes, silently tasting their closeness while their bodies slowly adjusted to the sweet warmth of each otherʼs arms.

At the first contact the young woman could clearly feel how a furious blush covered her face as the man encircled her in his hug. However, little by little the initial embarrassment yielded to other feelings, more intimate and deep. At last, after years of yearning her heart had found its way home. For Candice White, home was just right there, within the arms of the man she loved and it only took her a few minutes to understand it.

The girl believed in that moment that she could spend centuries just like that, locked to Terrenceʼ body while his hands ran slowly over her back and hair and his cinnamon breath scented the air, keeping his cheek and neck warm. She let escape a sigh and in that instant she realized that she had not told him what she had in her heart.

"Terri," she called him in a whisper still glued to his chest.

"Ummm?" he mumbled from the pleasant trance of his reveries.

"I think you asked me a question I havenʼt answered yet," she continued murmuring.

"I already know the answer . . .though I barely can believe it," he replied whispering at her ear.

"But these sort of things have to be said," she insisted.

"Then, do it this way," he said taking her face in one of his hands with his most tender gesture and helping her to look into his eyes. He looked into the two emeralds that had plagued his dreams since his adolescence but before drowning into them he bent his head until her lips were close to his ear "Just whisper the words to my ear so that only I can listen to them." he pleaded.

The young woman smiled softly, feeling deeply moved by his petition. She had never said the words "I love you" to any man, though she had been in love more than once. Candy close her eyes to give herself some courage, but then again the always present blush appeared again making things more difficult.

​

"I love you, I have always loved you," she repeated in his ear and he felt that the pavement did not exist anymore. For both of them the whole world seemed to have disappeared to leave only the sensations of his arms holding her, crushing her body against himself, her hands clenching softly on his neck, his face buried among her blond curls, the warmth of their bodies, the beats of their hearts, their tears running in silence, lavender and roses melting in the air, two voices repeating in a whisper: I love you.

"There hasnʼt been a single day or night," she continued whispering in his ear without breaking the embrace, "nor dawn or sunset that I have not thought of you in all these years, Terri. I tried to forget, I tried to overcome this love inside me. This love I believed a sin, because I thought you had already married her. I fought this love, but it has been stronger than my own will. Yves is just a good friend, who unfortunately fell in love with me, but his feelings are unrequited and the night I went to the ball with him I told him the truth. Now he knows that you are the man in my heart. No man on this planet could ever awake in me the feelings that you arouse in your Candy, who is yours and only yours, who has never stopped being yours despite the time, against all odds. Oh Terri, my Terry!" she said and stopped, burying her face in his chest not able to say more because the emotions overflowed her, and it was just fine because the man that held her in his arms was already melted marshmallow and couldnʼt resist any more loving endearments.

They remained holding each other for a timeless moment. Too overwhelmed by the sound of a thousand locks that suddenly opened in their hearts when they had finally found in each otherʼs arms the lost key of their souls. At the contact of their warmth a series of little explosions began to ignite in their bodies and before they could understand the nature of that mystery, a torrent of old and new urges started to claim for their satisfaction and Terri was the first one to be carried away by the magic spell of their closeness.

He tightened the hug as his head moved back very slowly, his cheek caressing Candyʼs own soft cheek and breathing deeply her essence. He took her face in his right hand and lifted her chin so that they could both see each other in the eyes. Candy felt her whole body shiver under his profound look but for an unknown reason she sustained the eyes meeting, drowning herself in Terriʼs blue sight. He did not say a word but she understood he was going to kiss her right there and then, and she also knew well that this time she wouldnʼt refuse. She had desired a kiss from his lips for so long that she could not deny it any more. When the soul has already avowed its secrets, the skin has to follow the confession.

He slowly bowed his head shortening the distance until his skin could feel the warm breeze of her breath. Then, he closed his eyes and stayed motionless during a while. He was so intoxicated with her that was afraid she would disappear if he dared to touch her lips. However, nature was stronger than his fears when it soon defeated the last hint of hesitation within him. He finally finished the long journey he had started an autumn morning, when he first left London, as his lips reencountered hers after years of yearning and hurtful separation.

Candy received the caress astonished by the tenderness displayed in his first touch. Brief kisses rained on her lips with a slightly wet accent. He barely grazed the soft flesh of her mouth as though she were made out of foam or breakable china. A series of short electric shocks started to seize both bodies as the sensitive skin of their lips caressed each other so lightly. For a reason he could not understand, Terri felt like a shy child lost in Candyʼs charms but not bold enough to pour in her all the passion repressed in the bottom of his heart.

Suddenly, she surprised herself responding to him and the gentle warmth of their embrace evolved into an increasing fire. Before she could thoroughly realize it, his kiss became more urgent and she answered back, moved by a feminine instinct she ignored she had. Unknowingly, she parted her lips and he immediately reacted kissing by her not like the adolescent who once had stole a kiss from her, but as the man that had desired her for years. He claimed her mouth to explore it freely in an intimate deep rapture. She did not oppose any resistance even when her last drop of air had vanished long time before. Candy understood that he was taking her with a single kiss, and with that passionate gesture he was telling her that he had come back to claim all her soul and body. She knew then that she had been born for that golden moment. She was a woman for he had been born a man.

A kiss, when it is given with true love, is the sparkle that kindles the uncontrollable torrents of passion. Flows of electric energy running through the human body, connecting flesh with mind and soul, seem to wake up in our veins the impelling force of nature. That was what happened in Candy and Terriʼs bodies the moment they surrendered to each other in that lingered kiss. All of a sudden Candy stopped being a girl and became a woman, and as a woman she understood that the wheels of passion were already twirling inside her and would not stop until they could quench their mutual thirst in an intimate embrace.

Terri, on his own, could not think that much, already swept by the alluring sensation of his new exploration in Candyʼs body. What incredible bliss of his lips on hers, savoring the scented flavor of her moistened mouth, tasting her strawberry essence, still the same as that afternoon he had first kissed her! What an immense pleasure of her every mount and valley crushed against his tense muscles! What sweet sensation of her trembling skin under his kisses that followed a humid trace over her silky cheeks until the creamy hollow of her neck! He perceived delighted how her breathing became irregular, clear signal of how he was affecting her. Never in all his life he had enjoyed such strong and pleasant sensations. It was a sort of intoxication but even deeper and incredibly more powerful that the one wine can offer.

Candy gasped huskily when she felt Terriʼs caresses on her neck while new sensations invaded her body. But her spontaneous groan made Terry react. He soon came back to his senses and realized that they were still in the middle of the street and he was carrying both of them over the verge of a cliff, from where it wouldnʼt be return if he didnʼt stop at once.

He lifted his lips from Candyʼs neck very slowly, reluctantly abandoning that pool of nacre that seduced him with its taste. He buried his face in the girlʼs curls and murmured to her ears.

"Forgive me, love," he whispered, "I love you so much that I forgot that we are in a public place and you are a lady . . .My only excuse is all the yearning I have endured during these years. Candy, you have been my greatest obsession and now I canʼt hardly believe that you still love me. . . I just . . . got carried away."

The blonde moved back slowly until she could face the young man. When their eyes met again there was a sweet smile of understanding in her face that stunned Terri with its maturity.

"Everything is fine, Terri, there is nothing to be forgiven" she murmured lowering her eyes in a shy gesture, "I . . . I also needed to be . . . close to you," she avowed.

Terri gave the young woman a thankful look as he unlocked the embrace. Holding Candyʼs hand in his, he started to walk slowly. The girl followed him delighted with the incredible joy of walking hand to hand with the man she loved. They really didnʼt feel the pavement under their feet.

They had walked away from the bridge and were strolling slowly along the avenue in complete silence. All of a sudden, words seemed unnecessary between them. The quiet rumor of the Seine running its impassible course and the noises of the city faded in the overwhelming music of their feelings. He loosened her hands and placed his arm around her shoulders. She instinctively encircled his waist and that way they continued walking for a long time.

But finally, the clock of the cathedral stroke six oʼclock and somehow brought them back from the dream land they had shared for a time they couldnʼt count. It was that mysterious moment of the day in which we cannot say whether the sun has just set down or if it is about to rise.

"Candy," said Terri breaking the silence, "Tomorrow I will have to . . ." he paused with a hint of hesitation in his tone.

Terriʼs words sunk in Candyʼs ears bringing a new bitter taste to the moment that had been perfect up to that instant.

"Tomorrow youʼre leaving for the Front. Arenʼt you?" she asked hoarsely.

"Yes," he replied, "but I will write to you every single day, and when this war ends . . ."

"Hush!" she said placing her index finger on his lips, "Terri, this war has taught me that we canʼt count on anything but today. . . ." and then she paused as a dark shadow crossed her fair features, "Do not promise anything now, only God knows what weʼll have to face once you have left."

Terri observed how her eyes were suddenly clouded by the perspective of the new dangers he would have to face as soon as he returned to the front line. The young man felt his heart shrunk before her worried face and his mind began to look desperately for an answer to cope with the new dilemma that they were facing. Terri crushed Candyʼs hand in his and led her to a nearby bench where they both sat.

"Candy," he started with fearful tone, "I understand clearly that under the present conditions it might seem futile to make you promises . . . but, I think I need . . . I must ask you this now."

"Terri!" she gasped not able to utter more words.

"Candice White," he continued looking at her eyes adoringly while holding her hands with nervous gesture, "youʼve just confessed that you still love me. Could I infer from your words that you would accept my promise of marriage? Would you consider me for such an honor?"

"Oh, Terri!" she said sighing while two thick tears ran on her cheeks, "Yes, yes, a thousand times, yes ! God knows that being your wife has always been my most cherished dream . . . But I am not sure if we should be talking about this now, when our future is uncertain. I am afraid Terry, Iʼm afraid of destiny, which has always been adverse for our love. If something happened to you in the front I . . . I . . ."

"Stop please," he said, unable to resist while he silenced her words with new ardent kisses, inflamed by the meaning in the young womanʼs lips.

"Donʼt talk like that," he mumbled between one kiss and the other, "Iʼll be fine . . . but now . . . this love confession of yours . . .is too . . . much for me . . . I canʼt take . . . so much . . . happiness."

Then he simply couldnʼt speak anymore, drinking again the essences of her mouth in a deepened kiss. Candy received him joyfully. Nothing could be better in the world than his closeness. They remained sealed to each otherʼs lips for some time while Venus lightened the horizon over the river Seine. When they parted to take air Terri lifted her chin and rested his forehead on hers.

"Listen," he explained, "Letʼs trick destiny this time. Iʼd be the happiest man on Earth if I could have you in my arms tonight, but I want to do things the right way. You just said that you will marry me. Then keep your promise . . . Marry me today!"

Candyʼs eyes opened widely, not really sure if she was understanding well what he was saying.

"But Terri, you know that it is impossible," she replied with saddened eyes, "You are a recruit, and it is against the military laws that single recruits get married during war times. Plus, even if it were possible, we wouldnʼt be able to arrange everything for tonight."

Terriʼs face grew a large smile.

"There is a way," he said, "I know someone who can help us with that. I only need to know if you are willing to."

"You already know that," she replied.

"But I want to hear it from your lips," he demanded with a dazzling smile.

"Then, the answer is yes, I accept to marry you today, if such a miracle can happen."

"It can." he insisted, "Now, give me another kiss, that I have been in starvation for too long and now I canʼt have enough of you lips."

​

=======

The carriage stopped at the 35 Rue Fontaine, the Moulin Rouge was just about a couple of blocks away from the old and elegant house with neoclassic style where the taxi had taken them. They were just at Montmartreʼs heart, the center of night life on the right bank. The young man got out the carriage and instead of helping the young lady by taking her hand he grabbed her by the waist, lifting her until she was again standing on the floor and he was holding her tightly.

"Terri, stop that!" she scolded him while he insisted on kissing her cheek and temples, but as she also giggled gaily, the man did not pay attention to her weak complains.

"Why should I?" he challenged her with a devilishly smirk while kissing her ear lobe.

"Because we have already got to the house. Arenʼt you going to knock at the door and see if thereʼs someone there?" she wondered trying to stand his tickling on her ear.

"All right," he surrendered to the womanʼs common sense, "but donʼt even think that I will stop myself later," he insinuated and she went red as a beet.

The young man took the doorʼs knob in his hand and knocked at it with firm pulse. It did not take long for someone at the other side to answer with a soft male voice and the doorʼs locks began to open. A man in his late forties opened the door, and once the young couple had explained the reason of their visit the servant invited them to come in.

Man and woman sat down in the living room decorated with sober taste, while the young man held the girlʼs hand. A minute later a tall man appeared in the room.

"Father Graubner. Thanks for receiving us in your house," said Terri standing up when the priest entered the room.

"It is a pleasure to see you both," said the man with a questioning face, "but this is not my house. Iʼm just a guest. This is Bishop Benoitʼs house, he is in charge of the "Sacre-Coeur" Basilica, not too far away from here."

"I see, the beautiful white church on a hill with a thousand steps to climb," commented Candy as the priest greeted her.

"Well, my young lady," chuckled the priest at the girlʼs remark, "There are just 237 steps, but you have said just the right thing, for a man with a weak heart as mine, those steps seem to be a thousand. But have a sit my dear friends. Would you like anything to drink?"

An old woman brought some wine for the priest and tea for the couple, and once they had been left alone, the three of them, Terri explained the true motive of their visit. As the young man talked, the priest moved his dark eyes from the young manʼs radiant expression to the girlʼs reddened face and back to the young man. The truth is that a man like Graubner, who was so experienced and knew human nature so well, did not need any explanation, it was enough to look at the coupleʼs faces and be aware of the times they were living to understand what was happening. But Graubner let Terri finish his story. Then, with a very grave expression in his face, he responded:

"Dear friend," he said addressing to the young actor, "do you realize what you two are asking me to do? You know well that it would be against the military laws to do such a thin,g and as priests, we have severe orders to respect those dispositions."

"We understand it, father," Terri replied, "but you also know that love is a higher authority."

"Are you asking me to disobey my superiors?" asked Graubner with a frown.

"Not exactly, father," ventured Candy to say, "We are asking you to forget about your orders for a few minutes . . . I am sure nobody would notice," she concluded with a smile that would have melted iron.

The older man, not able to hide his amusement anymore, laughed loudly for a good while after the girlʼs comments, while the couple looked at each other, bewildered by the sudden change in the priestʼs mood.

"Um Himmels Willen!" exclaimed Graubner bending his body with the laughter, "I . . . I understand now why you two are so in love with each other. You are a couple of rebels. Do you ever care about rules, my children?" he wondered between his chuckles, "But…well … Jesus Christ was a rebel as well…So, God blesses them all."

"Does this mean that you accept?" asked Candy startled.

"Of course I do, my child!" replied the priest with a smile, "In fact, I could have saved you all that explanation, I knew what was the reason of your visit since the moment I saw your faces."

"Then you were having a good time with us," commented the young man with a malicious smile, "And you never thought about denying us this favor . . . You would be a good actor, father."

"I just couldnʼt help it," answered the older man, "But, dear Terrence, you know well that I donʼt care that much about my superiorsʼ orders when they are against my principles. Do you guys have an idea about how many of these weddings I have done since the war started? . . . Iʼve lost count!" he concluded and the couple laughed at the priestʼs mischief.

​

========

Bishop Benoit was in Rome visiting the Pope, so Erhart Graubner had the house just for himself and for all the time he needed it. The house was large, comfortable and had a private chapel. In this quiet and intimate place, ornamented with elegant ionic columns, Versailles parquet on the floor, two discrete crystal vases with fresh white daffodils on the altar and a silver crucifix as the sole religious icon on the light blue walls, Candice and Terrence got married the evening of September the 1st , 1918.

They were thousands of miles away from their home country, none of their friends or relatives attended, there was no time to buy a luxurious wedding gown for the bride, the groom didnʼt wear a tuxedo, there was neither a best man nor bridesmaids, or music or cake and the rings had been first worn by another married couple 25 years before. However, the young aristocrat and his bride did not seem to notice all those irregularities at all. There was only one and single truth which mattered, that the same destiny which had forced them to split apart had made up its mistakes allowing them to reencounter each other in the vortex of war and love had made the rest. Any sort of considerations beyond this fact was useless.

Despite the inconveniences, Graubner never saw, in all his life as a priest, another bride more beautiful or another groom more dazzling than the ones in front of him that evening. The young blonde was bathed by the dimmed light of the chandeliers which made her golden hair and deep green eyes glare in uncountable sparkles and the young man by her side, still too astonished by the unexpected blessing, did not find any other place to concentrate his attention but the white nymph he was marrying.

The ceremony was brief and rather informal but it would be engraved in the loversʼ hearts for the rest of their lives. Each gesture, every word, the silence and the glances they exchanged in that moment while they pronounced their vows would never be forgotten even if they lived a hundred years . . . even if death separated them.

"I, Candice White Audrey, promise to love you, Terrence Greum Grandchester, in poverty or prosperity, health or illness, for the rest of my life and till death us do part " she said while the tears rolled over her rosy cheek and he had to make great efforts to refrain himself to hold her in that moment. Yet he had the strength to wait for a while to pronounce his own vows.

"I, Terrence Greum Grandchester, promise to love you, Candice White Audrey, in poverty or prosperity, health or illness, for the rest of my life and till death us do part". He responded knowing that those were the most important lines he would say in his life.

The young woman looked at Terri understanding that from then on all of her projects, her hopes, her dwelling, her name and her entire life would be linked and permeated by the arrogant noble man she once had met in England. He, who had become her sunset and her dawn, was finally bounded to her in a way no other human being would be. Candy felt then that the big adventure of her life had truly started.

​

"Then, on behalf of the Holy Church I pronounce you, man and wife," said the priest and the couple didnʼt give him time to say more because the groom didnʼt wait for his permission to kiss his the bride. But father Graubner did not complain.

Kissing his wife for the first time, Terrence felt that he was being freed from the heavy load his shoulders had carried for long years. At last, with the woman he loved in his arms he had found his true home and he could rest his soul.

========

During war times it is common that poor people become miserable and those who once were rich descend a few steps in the social scale, and sometimes face different economical problems that lead them to the bankruptcy. That had been Madame Guibertʼs case. Her husband, a rich business man, had died 15 years before the war started and without him to administrate their wealth, the Guibertsʼ fortune had decreased dramatically after 1914. So, Madame Guibert, who was an optimistic matron, had decided to use her big house as a hotel to earn the francs that her husbandʼs heritage could not provide.

The Guibertsʼ house had been built in the XVII century. It had a pre-revolutionary style with oak beams on the ceiling and thick stone walls. The residence was located in the heart of the "Quartier Latin" just on Monsieur Le Prince St., not too far away from LuxembourgGarden. The place was scrupulously tidy , comfortable and charming and Terri had chosen it by chance the day he had left the hospital. He never imagined then that it would be the place where he and his wife would spend their wedding night.

When one of the guests entered in the house followed by a young blond woman, Madame Guibert, who was at the check in desk as usual, did not make any comment. After being a hotel owner for about four years during war times, she was used to those scenes and the lady took them as they were, the most natural thing in the world. Nevertheless, when she sensed the peculiar aura that surrounded that couple in special, she couldnʼt avoid a sigh remembering those days of her early life when she had been madly in love as the young woman who was then climbing the stairs with a gorgeous blush covering her white cheeks.

"Make it beautiful for her, Holy Mother," said the woman as she crossed herself.

_____________________________

Deep as drops from a statues plinth


The bee sucked in by the hyacinth,


So will I bury me while burning,


Quench like him at a plunge my yearning,


Eyes in your eyes, lips on your lips!


Fold me fast where the cincture slips,


Prison all my soul in eternities of pleasure,


Girdle me for once! But no – the old measure,


They circle their rose on my rose tree.

- Robert Browning.

​

"The room was almost dark, only a shy candle on the night table lit the place that suddenly seemed so warm when she got in. I closed the door slowly and waited for a second before I turned to face her.

In the dim light of the candle, I could see how she loosened her hair from the white bow she was wearing, allowing a golden cascade of impossible curls to fall over her back. I had dream so many times with this moment but the vision of the woman in front of me was beyond my wildest dreams."

**********

​

"I looked around the bedroom and everything I could see there seemed just perfect. The place was warm and cozy, and there was a sliding window with a nice view of the busy streets that in the morning would allow the sunbeams to enter into the chamber. To the left, there was a cedar desk with a bouquet of red roses on the top. The bed was covered with a knitted comforter, which was a real piece of art. Yet, I could not appreciate these details at the first glance, so nervous and afraid I was. I had never been as scared and happy at the same time as I felt in that moment.

I walked towards the window getting my back to him. I didnʼt ignore what was essentially going to happen between us that night . . . but beyond that basic knowledge provided by my classes in the nursing school I was totally naïve. How was a woman supposed to react in such situations? How could I face such intimacy if his mere kisses melted my whole body?

Trying to find a release for my over confused mind I loosened the bow that held my hair. A second after I felt his hands on my shoulder making me turn to face him and I could not think anymore."

**********

​

"I closed the distance between us and reached her shoulders with my hands. When I could face her, I noticed that she was shyly lowering her eyes. It suddenly occurred to me that this was going to be her very first time and even when the thought overwhelmed my heart with an immense joy, it also worried me enormously. I did not want to scare this young siren, I had adored and desired since my school times and who was, by an incredible and lucky twist of destiny, my newly wedded wife.

I tilted her face taking her chin in one of my hands using the other one to encircle her tiny waist. I gave her a butterfly kiss and resisted with all my strength to continue and finally release the intimate urges within me.

"Little freckled girl," I said lovingly, "this can be a wonderful and unique experience for both of us. Do not be afraid, Iʼll take care of you.




Letʼs discover together the secret ecstasies that love reserves for just a few fortunate beings as you and I," I whispered in her ear.

She lifted those watery green eyes of hers, little aquariums full of light and trembling shadows, to look into mine."

**********

​

"When I heard his words in my ear I felt how my fears slowly vanished with the sound of his voice that had never been as tender as in that moment. Suddenly, I knew I could be secure in his embrace. With this new confidence I looked into his blue eyes and understood that he was also nervous.

"Iʼll be fine, Terri," I got to say with my softest tone, trying to make him feel more at ease, and after that I surprised myself adding, "I desire to be with you just as much as you want to be with me."

**********

​

"Her sweet words almost made my blood explode, but I had to keep control over my natural drives that demanded me to take her there and then. I knew I had to be patient and tender. I simply hugged her very lightly while she rested her head on my chest. I could hear her delicate breathing invading my senses with that mixture of roses and wild strawberries.

My cheek felt the silky touch of her golden hair and I desired more than ever before to caress that capriciously wavy hair. To be able to desire and fulfill that longing at the same time was a new thing for me, so I think I engrossed myself in the glaring golden labyrinth as amazed as the small girl on the bridge had been at Candyʼs marvelous mane.

"Iʼll tell you a secret," I murmured while caressing her long locks, "when I was a teenager, sometimes I believed that you werenʼt real."

"What was I then? An elf?" she said giggling on my chest.

"Nope . . . a fair with incredibly curly blond hair," I explained and my words made her raised her head and look at my eyes directly. She didnʼt say a thing but I knew her eyes were smiling.

"But later," I continued, "I understood that I was wrong."

"So you realized I was just a girl . . . " she concluded.

"Wrong," I replied laying my index finger on her little nose, "I realized you were an angel . . . my angel," I said muffling my last words on her lips and I noticed that she was getting used to my kisses for she responded almost immediately."

**********

​

"And once more he kissed me . . . Which number was that kiss? I couldnʼt tell by then. Since our second kiss on the bridge he had searched my lips so many times that it was impossible to keep count . . . However, I understood that with each new encounter with his disquieting mouth my body was learning more and more about this man whom I had unexpectedly taken as my husband . . . Soon, his caresses became more ardent and I could feel how my body reacted naturally to his demands. I was so lost with his kisses on my neck that I didnʼt notice when he began to unbutton my dress."

**********

​

"Since our embrace over Saint Michelle Bridge I hadnʼt touch her neck again, conscious of the overpowering spell of that caress and always fearful to lose control over my impulses. But there, in the middle of the dimmed room we were savoring for the first time, the pleasure of total intimacy. What could stop me from sharing with my wife all the passion I had kept just for her?

Then, my hands reached the buttons on her back and I finally concluded that the dress makerʼs profession was certainly the most infamous of all. How does someone ever figure to design a dress with over twenty tiny buttons? Notwithstanding my annoyance, I must admit that I enjoyed deeply knowing that I was about to unveil a beauty I have always dreamt about.

Once I had finished with the last obnoxious button my hands ran over her back feeling the sheer material of her slip and the soft skin that was exposed until I reached the neck I was still tasting. I could feel her body trembling when my fingers slowly pulled down the dress shoulders and she finally realized I was about to take her clothes off."

**********

​

"I felt how his lips parted from my throat and his eyes raised to see into mine. I felt hypnotized by his greenish blue depths to a point that my regular defenses were at their lowest degree. I was aware that he had always had that power over me but that night he was using his seductive weapons with all his might. He ran his hands over my shoulders and I noticed that he was already undressing me. It was as though he were caressing me at the same time he made the dress fall slowly to my feet.

Even when I was not really nude in front of him I felt so self-conscious in that instant that every single part of my body seemed uncomfortably imperfect to my eyes. Nevertheless, the first sensations of embarrassment disappeared as soon as he sweetly forced me to look at him directly. It was then that I could read in his eyes that he was not disappointed. But the long journey beyond the limits of modesty was still beginning. He was leading and I knew I would follow him wherever he took me.

With great disbelief I saw him as he held my hands taking them towards his chest.

"Please, do it for me," he pleaded. I knew then that he wanted me to unbutton his shirt and when he saw my perplex expression he encouraged me with that mischievous smile of his that always drives me crazy, "It wonʼt be the first time you do this my sweet nurse," he joked.

"This time is different," I argued weakly.

"Indeed . . . but just imagine it is not."

**********

​

"I observed her as she seriously undid each button of my shirt enjoying with all my might one of the most erotic experiences Iʼve ever had. Soon I was half naked guiding her to caress my body. Perceiving her shy advances over my chest, I comprehended how professional she had acted during all the time she had been taking care of me. I sensed that she also desired me, but she was so deliciously timid that she could not avoid again that almost perennial blush. Oddly, her shyness only contributed to seduce me more.

"You do not image what you do to me, Candy," I moaned huskily, "You have bewitched me, woman. What sort of spell have you cast upon me?"

"I have just loved you, Terri," she answered sweetly while her fingers moved slowly across my torso and shoulders making me shiver at her touch, "with all my heart. Every single day of these years I have never stopped thinking, dreaming of you."

At this point I could not contain myself any more and swept her in my arms crushing her tempting curves against my frame and claiming the wetness of her mouth with the newly gained right of a husband.

We fell on the bed and rolled freely until I was on top of her, my weight crushing her delicate body. My hands felt free from the bounds that had kept them still before and began to explore the soft lines of her geography memorizing and registering in my senses what my eyes had already learnt by heart since the first day they had laid on her. I had desired Candy since the very first time I saw her in the mist. That first night after our brief meeting I went to bed thinking about the delicate wild flower I had just encountered. Never before a girl had seemed to me so secure and dare as that little blonde with eyes that killed with their green sparkles. I remembered how the sheer material of her dress flowed over the soft curves of her teenage body. My bold mind could not avoid thinking intensely about the delights that the dress covered. That night, I fell asleep imagining that I unveiled the glory of her nakedness, claiming for me the right to posses all her favors.

But now the same beauty, with a body more mature and glorified as it corresponded to a fully grown up woman, was trapped in my arms, her breath getting heavier and heavier, her arms rubbing passionately my back and flanks, her mouth open and surrendered to my bold exploration. I pulled her softly to rest lying on my left flank. My lips left hers unwillingly just to assault with equal passion her jaw and throat, I wanted to devour that creamy long neck.

**********

​

What happens when Terri has me in his arms? I still canʼt tell, despite the years . . . I only know that he becomes the lord of the sensual game with his enticing touch and unconsciously I follow his lead participating gladly.

When we reached the bed I felt that we were already moving into a world I had never imagined. From then on everything was discovery. Nothing I had read or seen had prepared my mind and body for that encounter of skins and souls. He sailed over my neck and throat until he reached my shoulders and I felt how he slowly pulled down the lace straps of my bodice. Soon he was leaving a humid trace over my shoulders and bared arms and my whole body was trembling. At the same time I could feel his hands running across my body touching with avid palms and fingers, places I had believed untouchable, molding under the petticoat my legs and thighs as the potter does with the clay.

Suddenly he stopped his passionate embrace as his hands moved upwards. He lifted his torso and again those blue swords of his eyes penetrated my spirit with his glance. Slowly, he untied the ribbons that held my slip and then I remembered that it was the last piece of clothes I had on to cover the nudity of my chest.

**********

​

Then my mouth reached the border of those white mounts that the neckline of her slip let uncovered. It was then when I realized that she wasnʼt wearing a corset as most women did in those times. I smiled inwardly at this discovery. My freckled girl was a mutineer even in those details, always going against the social codes with fearless boldness. And for me, that simple display of feminine insurrection meant that the beauty of her perched breast that I had secretly admired during the months in the hospital, always veiled by her nurse uniform, was not the result of a very tied corset but her natural attribute.

My hand, could not resist to fulfill the feverish desire I had had for so long, to cup with my fingers and palms the tempting breast of the woman I loved. The moment I did it was as though the glory opened its doors and let me see the rays of gold inside the heavenly land. Her breast was soft and firm at the same time; it fitted my palm perfectly as though they had been made one for the other. She groaned in pleasure.

It did not take long for my hands to untie the laces of her slip. For a moment I stopped my wild assault on her body to behold solemnly the glorious sight of my hands undressing her, as the outstanding view of her nude bosom was revealed to me for the first time. I could notice a slight trace of nervousness on her face and again I feel afraid before this virgin that had been granted to me without deserving it. I looked at her eyes and holding her delicate face in my hands I told her:

"You are the most beautiful creature I have ever seen, love," I said with shaking voice, "Do not be ashamed of your beauty. Please, let me share with you the hidden charms of physical love. I promise it will be pleasant for both of us."

**********

​

Some people say Iʽm pretty, but I have always had my doubts about their judgment. Nevertheless, in that moment Terri made me feel as beautiful and desired as a Greek Goddess and all of a sudden I didnʼt feel embarrassed anymore. Not even when he began to cover my most sensitive corners with his kisses drinking from my breast my very soul, or when his hands finished the ritual freeing both of us from the rest of the clothes.

It was not the first time I saw him naked, but the circumstances had been so different before. That time in the surgery room I only cared about saving his life, but then, in the middle of the darkness, barely lightened by the candle, he was a breathtaking vision. And I was there, beholding his masculine beauty, admiring for the first time the glorious sight of our differences, while he looked at me as if I were the only woman on Earth.

I reached his face with my hand and brushed away some of his chestnut strands that were covering his beloved forehead. I donʼt know what I did in that moment, but I must have transmitted my thoughts to his heart in a sigh because he smiled at me and his face lit up with a flare I have never seen in him. I flung my arms around his neck as we formally started to explore our bodies in a common adventure we had never dared to imagine in all its extent.

We confessed each other our mutual love endlessly, through our moved words, with our lips, with every new caress that we learnt, in each heart beat that increased violently, within our incomprehensible moans, through all our sighs and in every thought that we could guess in the other. In that magical rapture, where there werenʼt any borders between his body and my body, the way his hands molded my curves and mine his lean muscles was only the logical consequence of our previous spiritual junction.

**********

​

I gazed upon my wife and wondered in that moment when exactly my angel had turned into the alluring Aphrodite who was then sharing my bed for the first time. She was even more beautiful than in my most ambitious dreams and I was at the same time furiously attracted to and scared of her impossible beauty. Would she disappeared if I touched her again? I hesitated. But her sweet caress on my forehead told me that, notwithstanding my incredible fortune, I was indeed living something real. My heart was exploding of joy, thus I had no other alternative but releasing that increasing fire through my caresses, which were the single way that God had created to express those things that are beyond the human words.

I ranged over every accident that blissful geography offered to me as a generous gift. My hands and lips measured and tasted every fragment of her milky universe while my pulse reached a rhythm I never thought I could stand and survive. Whatever I had known as pleasure before was poor and ridicule in front of that supreme bliss made out of delicious curves and pulsing valleys. Soon everything was sweet feminine moans at my ear, rose petals under my finger tips, vast horizons of silky skin, a fountain of scented odors that aroused my most intimate urges as my hands caressed the jewel between her thighs.

**********

​

What I had desired from his body was nothing compared to what he was presented me with that first night. Even when I had thought that I would melt at his embrace I ended up realizing that I was overcoming the first shock and my heart started to demand me to caress him more and more boldly each time. With shaking fingers, too novice still but full of love, I granted each parcel of his firm body while I marveled at the smooth contact of his skin.

Nobody had ever told me how a wife should please her husband and, on the other hand, I also ignored the long list of prohibitions that our society had created limiting womenʼs sensual experience. Then, I just obeyed the only sensible piece of advice a friend had given to me: follow my heart. And so I did instinctively what love dictated me, discovering at each new caress those spots that ignited the fires within him.

As for his advances, every second more audacious, they were driving me to a verge of pleasure, and I could feel how an unknown warmth crept from the inside of my belly invading my body and making me flow with the urgent need of having him even closer, beyond and embrace, the closest a man can be to a woman.

I didnʼt have to tell him what I wanted. Once again he read my mind.

**********

​

This woman I had met when we were just teenagers. This woman I have loved madly ever since. This woman I had lost for my stupidity back in the past and that I just had recovered by a divine grace I was sure I did not deserve, was about to be mine and mine only, because I was determined that I was not only going to be her first, but her only one.

I looked with tender fire at her emerald eyes and she returned the glance with equal love. She knew well that I was about to posses her and among the passion her beautiful face revealed there was also a strange mixture of solemnity and joy.

"Be mine," I whispered to her ears drinking again the intoxicating perfume of her hair. "Be my woman, be my wife, be with me only one."

"Do not fear, take me now," she replied as I slowly introduced myself into her flesh to discovered joyfully that her body did not struggle a great deal to receive me.

She gasped at the first touch, I think it was the pain of her first time. That scared me to death for a while. I had never been with a virgin and I felt awfully guilty for having hurt her, my Candy, who was my most precious affection.

"Forgive me, love," I begged her hugging her tenderly as I kissed her lips once more.

"Donʼt be sorry. Just love me, Terri," she muttered among my kisses.

I remained quiet for a timeless moment, letting her to get used to the supreme contact of our bodies, but later I felt how her tension had disappeared leaving room for the new need of my body inside hers. Her pushing hips made me understand that the first pain had been insignificant for her and she was eager to advance in our intimate embrace.

**********

​

What had been missing for an eternity simply found its right place when he took me into his most intimate embrace. Then I could grasp the meaning of being a woman, the ultimate reason of that love I had felt for him during so long. What had been a mystery during my adolescence, all those fears and doubts and insecurities, what had been just longing for the years that followed to our separation, all the pain and suffering, everything vanished in a gasp and I was complete. He was mine, with me, inside me and a torrent of towering pleasure was beginning to reach its peak.

**********

​

Then it was as if a blinding light covered my eyes. The following moments were alluring. I had never felt such intense joy and anguish at the same time, as if my soul were dying and being born again with every movement of my body against hers. Waves of overwhelming delight covered our bodies with increasing force while a burning fire reached higher and higher heat within us.

So, this was what making love meant. It was something beyond mere sex and I had never experienced such a miracle before. She was there, surrendered at my intimate caresses, on her, around her, inside her. Candyʼs face transfigured by passion, calling my name in deep cries while her legs and arms embraced me . Amazingly, the fact of knowing that she was enjoying our loving interchange was even more pleasant that my own pleasure.

She tensed her body in an extraordinary display of electric energy crying out my name and I felt how an unknown current ran over my spine at the very moment. It was as if for a magic instant our bodies had been taken into the torrent of a liquid dream sweeping both of us until we reached the sweet meadows of a far away land, trapped into a bubble of peaceful exhaustion.

I fell over her groaning huskily and burying my head in the hollow of her neck. She released my body form the firm grip of her legs and we both laid still locked one in the other. It was then when I felt an unexplainable anguish running from my chest as a knot inside my heart that moved towards my throat searching for a way out. The knot reached my lungs and vocal chords with impelling force and did not release my soul until I broke into tears with loud sobs.

I hugged my little treasure with renewed strength afraid that she would disappear as a dream. I remember myself crying aloud without shame.

"Candy, Candy, Candy!" I repeated again and again among my sobs feeling that my cries were not going to find and end clenching her body as she responded to my explosion with reassuring tone and tender caresses.

"I thought that I had lost you for ever," I confessed in tears, "I wandered through life so lonely and distraught without you . . . It is so dark without you."

She smiled sweetly as she only knows how to do it, with that special smile I know she only regales me and not anyone else on this Earth.

"I have been so lonely too, without you, Terri. It is so cold without you," she murmured, "but now nothing will ever separate us again. Iʼm your wife."

Her words and tender care eased my sudden anguish and in its place a sweet peace invaded my heart. I fell into the deepest and most quite sleep I had ever enjoyed, a feeling of unknown completeness claiming my heart.

After an eternity of longing, my soul had reached its lost half.

**********

​

A second after he had reached heaven I joined him there and after that everything was a soft fall as a feather floating in the air until it finally rests over the quiet water of a singing lagoon. He cried in my arms and I also cried with him. So many times I had told myself that our love was dead, that there was no hope to see him again, despite the fact that we both were alive . . .And there we were, colliding our two universes into one single miracle. After that, everything was peace and fulfillment.

I had abandoned the maiden condition to attain a superior state. I was a woman . . . His woman.

**********

At length their long kiss severed, with sweet smart:


And as the last slow sudden drops are shed


From sparkling eaves when all the storm has fled,


So singly flagged the pulses of each heart.


Their bosoms sundered, with the opening start


Of married flowers to either side outspread


From the knit stem; yet still their mouths, burnt red,


Fawned on each other where they lay apart.


Sleep sank them lower than the tide of dreams,


And their dreams watched them sink, and slid away.


Slowly their souls swam up again, through gleams


Of watered light and dull drowned waifs of day;


Till from some wonder of new woods and streams


He woke, and wondered more: for there she lay.

- Gabriel Rosseti

​

The dulcet tones of an ancient melody invaded Candyʼs dreams. She recognized the notes and her heart was filled with a delicious syrup. In the past the simple memory of that song would have made her cried, but after tasting loveʼs supreme ambrosia the sad souvenirs seemed buried in a far away grave where they could not hurt her anymore.

She opened her malachite eyes and she could descry a masculine silhouette sat by her side. Her soul jumped in joy when she finally perceived that he was playing the old harmonica she once had given to him. He had kept it for all those years, with the same care he had preserved his love for her.

"Hello," he said to her in the middle of the darkness when he realized that she was awaken.

"Hello," she answered back with a smile she hasnʼt worn before, in her entire life.

"It is as if we were in a magic bubble and there werenʼt any other worries but this love. Isnʼt it?" he asked playing with her locks that covered the white pillow in a seductive disarray.

"Have I ever ben somewhere else but here, in your arms? I donʼt remember it," she said turning on her flank as she flung her own arms to embrace him. He received his wife surrounding her with his caresses on her capriciously curly hair and the nude skin of her back, hips and thighs, while she buried her face in the hollow of his chest.

"Yet, we must always keep in mind that out of this room, there is a world that seemed to be against us" he murmured in her ear, "Strange energies beyond any human will that swept us away from each other, over and over. But there was also a force that pulled us closer, the power of this love of ours, which has proved to be stronger than time and destiny."

"The kind of love that lasts for ever, my beloved," she said lifting her face, her lips searching again the path to his mouth. His lips met hers half of the way and as the kiss deepened the silent reigned for a while in the dimmed room.

"When I lost you," he tried to begin an explanation among the kiss rain, "I . . ."

"Hush!" she said kissing him again, "Donʼt talk about that . . . there isnʼt any need," and she silenced his words with the voluptuous charm of her caresses, "Make love to me again," was the last thing she said in a tone that was a blend of plea and command. Terri did not need any more prompting.

**********

​

In exhaustion she threw all her weight over him, resting her golden head over his chest. Her cheeks enjoyed the soft skinʼs touch on his well defined muscles, as her right hand traced the line of the scar on his ribs, on his left side. His breathing slowed down little by little but he was still too overwhelmed by his recent ecstasy. He simply lay motionless enjoying the blissful feeling of Candyʼs weight over his body, the glorious pressure of her breast on his chest, the length of her shapely legs tangled with his, her hands playing marvels over his torso and the intimate contact of their bodies.

"Before all this," he finally spoke huskily, "I wanted to tell you something, but you didnʼt let me."

"There isnʼt a good reason to talk about the past, love," she murmured.

"I think there is," he insisted.

"I donʼt see it," she said with a sigh, beginning to feel sleepy.

"There are some things that happened with me that I want to share with you. Arenʼt you interested in knowing them?" he wondered.

"Iʼm interested in everything that is related to you, but not if talking about it is going to hurt you," she pointed out sweetly.

"I would feel better after saying it . . . besides, I donʼt want you to find out things about me through gossips. Iʼd better tell you all those things by myself. And I also think there are good things in my story that I would love to share with you," he added.

"Since it is so important, go ahead, Iʼll listen to you," she said giving up while she rested her head on his chest with a sigh of resignation.

He lifted his arms to encircle her tiny body under the bed covers and caressing her back softly he began his tale:

"Candy, there is a part of my life I donʼt feel proud of. When we broke, I first thought that I could overcome the loss. I just fooled myself, but soon found out that I was not as strong as I believed it. Every time I was with Susannah, I could only think of you and the memory of our love was so torturing that I began to drink heavily.

Before I could realize it I had become an alcoholic and abandoned my job, leaving New York and Susannah behind. Candy, I told myself that life was not worthy to be lived without you and in my shameful downfall I tried to flee from my problems instead of facing them. Since I had lost my job, I began working for a traveling show that was worse than the worst one. You would have been ashamed of me if you had seen me


then . . ."

Candy then lifted her head from her husbandʼs chest and looked directly into his eyes. She wondered inwardly if she should let him continue in his painful confession or reveal him that she already knew that story . . . But, she stopped herself thinking that it might be even more difficult for him to find out that she had seen him during those sad times.

The young woman looked at him with such a tender gaze that he somehow felt comforted and decided to go on with his story.

"One day the troop traveled to Chicago, my dear, and perhaps the fact that I knew you lived there along with the tones of whisky I normally consumed in those days, made me have a vision of you certain night."

"What?" Candy asked not able to believe what she had just heard.

"One night during my performance," Terry explained looking at his wifeʼs bewildered eyes, "I saw your face in the middle of the public. If was just my imagination but…"

"You saw me!" she exclaimed stunned as she raised her torso using her arms to support her weight, "I canʼt believe you really saw me, as your mother said!" said the young woman not able to repress her astonishment.

Then it was Terriʼs turn to be surprised. Candyʼs words suddenly revealed him the overwhelming truth he was reluctant to believe.

"What do you mean with all that? And what does my mother have to do in this?" he asked utterly confused. "You arenʼt going to tell me now that you were truly there. Are you?"

"Oh Terri, you really saw me!" she said moved, flinging her arms around his neck, "Yes, Terri I was there, but I never thought you could have distinguished me in the darkness of that place, my beloved, and you must know that I have never been ashamed of you. I certainly felt sad to see you in those conditions, and a little angry because you were wasting your precious talents, but deep inside me I knew you would end up conquering your demons, as you truly did it".

Candy told Terri her version of the story and also explained her encounter with Eleanor Baker. On his turn, the young man talked about the effect that Candyʼs appearance had had in him and the decisions he had made after that moment. The couple could barely believe how the pieces of the puzzle fitted so perfectly forming all together the moving picture of the love poem they both shared.

They kept on talking about the incident and soon the conversation covered other moments in the past when they had been so close to a reencounter and things had ended up preventing them from seeing each other. They revised the events and the feelings they had experienced in those moments and for the first time they began to understand the mystery of the invisible link that united them.

That time when she ran to see him in Southampton but failed to arrive before the ship left, whereas he heard her voice in the distance, not believing the call of his heart. The following winter when she had arrived to Pony Hill just a few minutes after he had been there. The insistent aches in their hearts since they had arrived to France, the increasing disquiet during that snowy evening in which they had reencountered each other, and Candyʼs anguish the night he had been injured. . . . everything began to make sense.

"You have always been in here," she said pointing to her heart, "I can feel you as I feel my own beats. See? And now I know that even when fate took you away from me so many times, you never left truly. Now that you are here again with me I understand that this was meant to be."

"Candy!" he sighed caressing her cheek with soft touches of his finger tips, "This love has always been meant to be. It was always you in me, in my dreams, perhaps even before I met you and since then it has always been you" and then he added smiling with great mirth, "The voice in the ship, the presence in Pony Hill, the face in the poor theatre, the jab in my heart . . . and now the woman in my arms!"

The young actor hugged his dear wife tightly, kissing lightly her ear lobe as he whispered repeatedly in her ear that she was his guardian angel. She responded with a muffled purr that again kindled the fires within him.

"Candy, please," he begged in a murmur, "tell me again that youʼve loved me despite the passage of the years and, that youʼve dreamed with me as much as I have dreamed of you . . . tell me that you were just waiting for me all this time!"

The young woman responded with a trail of kisses on his chest and neck as she made her way to his lips.

"I thought of you, dreamt about you, and have only been yours," she said between the kisses, "In fact, you must know something," she added raising her beautiful head to look at him right in his eyes, "I got angry at you that night I had gone out with Yves, for one simple reason. You said that you wanted to erase from my lips every single French kiss I had received, and I felt offended because up till then, I have only been kissed once . . . by you," she confessed. "Terri Iʼve only known your kissesʼ flavor," she managed to say before her husband passion swept her again in the unquenchable fire of their love.

**********

"Wilt thou be gone? It is not yet near day:


it was the nightingale, and not the lark,


That piercʼd the fearful hollow of thine ear;


Nightly she sings on yon pomegranate tree:


Believe me, love, it was the nightingale"


"It was the lark, the herald of the morn,


No nightingale: look, love, what envious streaks


Do lace the severing clouds in yonder east:


Nightʼs candles are burnt out, and jocund day


Stands tiptoe on the misty mountain tops


I must be gone and live, or stay and die"

-William Shakespeare

​

She opened her eyes again, feeling how the shy sun rays began to graze her fair face. The dawn was rising in the horizon and Candy woke up from the dream she had lived in Terriʼs arms. She slowly untangled herself from his hold and sensing a furtive gust, presaging the autumn arrival, she stood up to close the window. She quietly put on her silken slip and with bare feet the young woman walked towards the window. Outside, a small lark was singing on the cornice.

Candy filled her nostrils with the new dayʼs fragrance and clearly sensed the quiet explosions in her heart. That blissful morning she had woken up being Mrs. Terrence Grandchester and the absolute truth of the passionate night they had spent together lightened her soul from the altar of her new body. Yet, the morning and the larkʼs song were also the sad signs of the separation she had feared for so long, same dramatic event that was just a few hours away to become real.

"Candy!" a sleepy masculine voice called her from the bed and she immediately responded to Terriʼs call.

"Keep on sleeping, itʼs not time yet," she said approaching to the bed and taking again her place in his arms.

"Will you say that it is the nightingale what I am listening to, my sweet Juliet?" he whispered with a quiet chuckle.

"I wish I could say that," she responded beginning to experiment the terrible struggle between her desires to be strong and her immense sadness.

"Come, death and welcome! Juliet wills it so . . .How isʼt my soul? letʼs talk, - it is not day." He recited while twisting one of her golden locks in his index finger.

"Donʼt say those things Terri," she chided him with a melancholic giggle, "This is not a play."

"I know it is not, because I never felt so happy after any of my performances. This is a joy of a greater nature," he explained.

"Yes, I know what you mean," she assented, "but, now try to sleep at least for another hour."

"I have a better idea," he replied with a mischievous look in his big blue eyes, "letʼs take a bath together."

"What?"

The young man did not answer to the girl and without any more protocol he stood up from the bed stretching himself at all his length.

"TERRI!" screamed the young woman throwing him a pillow while a furious blushed covered her cheeks.

The young man caught the projectile and after a second of internal deliberation to find out the reason of that attack, he comprehended that the girl was scandalized at his liberal proposition and by the sight of his nakedness under the morning light. He found that reaction utterly amusing and his always-ready teasing side woke up within him, setting him in the best of his moods.

"Why would my wife be intimidated by me?" he asked approaching the bed with feline moves. The young man took Candyʼs face in his hands, grinning devilishly "Tell me, Candy. Werenʼt you the one I shared with my most intimate secrets last night? Are you going back to be shy with me?"

"I am not shy!" she retorted lifting her nose proudly.

"Then take a bath with me," he challenged her, "Show me you are the same bold girl Iʼve always known."

"Well . . .I . . ." she hesitated, "I donʼt think I am in the mood for a bath right now."

"Excuses," he responded, "But I wonʼt take them."

And with this last statement the young man took his wife in his arms while she yelled asking him to let her go, but as she mixed her complains with opened laughter the man did not pay attention to her demands.

Inside the bathroom Candy tried to resist for a while, but he easily won the match because his opponent was not really willing to refuse the invitation. It only took him a few tickles and kisses to make her regain confidence and assume that nudity was not only reserved for bed games. Soon, the white silken slip was on the floor and they were inside the bathtub splashing and playing as two toddlers.

"Were you always that naughty when Miss Pony was going to give you a bath?" he asked laughing.

"Iʼll do as if I hadnʼt heard that," she retorted pouting.

"I guess you were one of those stubborn little girls who hate water and soap. Thatʼs why youʼve got all those freckles. Itʼs a punishment for your naughtiness."

"Oh you can be really obnoxious when you want! Did you know that?" the blonde said blowing foam on his face.

"Hey! That was rude! I think Iʼll have to do what those kind women who brought you up must have done," he sentenced faking seriousness.

"What?"

"To give you a good thrashing," he said and she moved away defensively, trying to leave the bathtub before he could do any move. However, the young man moved faster and grabbed her by the arm, pulling her until she was back in his arms.

"Start counting while I beat you," he said beginning to kiss her shoulders and back but she couldnʼt keep count.

**********

​

They continued playing and caressing each other as much as they could, but as time stands still for nobody, man or woman, and despite their reluctance, the young couple finally left the bath. Using the silent language they had developed, the two of them got ready to leave the hotel. She offered the young man to help him with his hair and using a razor he had with him, she cut his hair to fit the military style once more.

He sat in front of the mirror while she performed her task with fast hands. As the silky brown strands fell to the floor the young man did not take off his eyes from the emerald stars reflected on the mirror. For the first time in the morning he started to think seriously about the imminent separation, feeling terribly frustrated for not having more time to share with the person he love the most. Yet, he promised himself to be strong so that things would be less difficult for her.

After she had finished, Terri looked at himself with certain annoyance and the young woman laughed softly at his resistance to wear his hair so short. While he shaved in the bathroom, she picked up the brown strands and kept a lock tied with one ribbon she had taken from her petticoat.

Candy sighed deeply, feeling a little weird and excited with the new sensation of playing, at least for a brief while, the wife role she had dreamt about for so long. Then, the young woman approached the desk and taking one of the red roses on the crystal vase she breathed the perfume thinking about the future that would wait for her as soon as the war ended and she and her husband could go back home.

A few minutes later they left toward the train station.

**********

​

Terrence looked at his wife, still unbelieving what he had lived the previous hours. Whenever his mind replayed the facts he felt triumphant and complete and, as he had previously decided, he was doing his best to regard the proximate separation with the most optimistic of his attitudes. Yet, he couldnʼt avoid a thrust in his heart when they heard the station employee calling the passengers who were leaving for Verdun in the 9 oʼclock train.

"Iʼll write to you everyday, even if the letters cannot be sent that often," he murmured hugging her earnestly, "Promise me you will take care of yourself, angel."

"I will . . . You please take better care this time," she pleaded with her face buried in his chest.

"Donʼt worry dearest, Iʼll be fine," he replied and saying these words he looked for her eyes, "Listen, Candy, and listen well . . . When the war ends everything will be very messy and confused. Do not wait for me. Take the first ship to America with your medical team and wait for me in New York. You have my address and my motherʼs. Once I get there Iʼll look for you and Iʼll spend the rest of my days making you happy. Itʼs a promise."

"You are already making me happy," she corrected him.

The station employee urged again to get on the train.

"Terri," Candy whispered while she took her hands to her neck. "Keep this . ." she said putting on his neck her golden crucifix, "This has been with me since I first left Ponyʼs Home when I was 12. It will protect you and, as it has always come back to me . . . t will surely bring you back to my arms, very soon," she murmured with hoarse voice fighting desperately to hold back the tears.

"Then, you please keep this for me," he said giving her his emerald ring, "That bitter night in New York, when you left without letting me look at your eyes again I felt so lost that for months I had nightmares with that." The man explained with a soft voice that moved Candyʼs heart to the core.

"My love," she whispered and she would have hugged him more tightly if he had not forced her to keep on looking at him while he continued his explanation.

"After the time I saw you in the traveling theatre, I was back in New York, looking for a present for my motherʼs birthday when I saw this ring." The young man went on, "The moment I discovered the stone I realized that it had exactly the same color of your eyes. I didnʼt hesitated and impulsively bought it to have a reminder of the womanʼs eyes that had been my light . . . those eyes I couldnʼt see for a last time. But now, after the things that have happened, I donʼt think I need it anymore because I have the cherished memory of your eyes trusting me your love for this man who still doesnʼt feel deserving of such joy. I want you to have it while I am away and when we see each other again, Iʼll give you back your crucifix and youʼll give me back this ring. Besides, I might lose it in the Front one of these days. It will be safer in your hands."

The young woman took the ring and kept it in her purse along with the brown strands. Right after, she raised her eyes to glare at him, still profoundly moved by the story he had told her.

​

"I love you so much that I think I am going to explode," she told him and a second after they were kissing each other again as if they hadnʼt done it in centuries.

"Terri," she gasped hugging him so tightly that he thought he would never be able to breath again. The girl encircled his neck with her arms and with her eyes closed she secretly made a prayer.

The train began to move and the young man, parting from the womanʼs embrace, jumped on it.

"Remember," he last said, "We are one now. I am yours…you are my wife. Never forget it. Weʼll always be one."

The young woman waved her hand assenting to his every word as the trained moved away speeding up more and more. In a few seconds, the train was just a point in the horizon and the young woman on the platform finally cried with her saddest sobs.

"Youʼve been very brave, now you can cry all what you need, my child," said a deep voice from behind as a large and warm hand rested on Candyʼs shoulder protectively.

"Father Graubner!" gasped the young woman throwing herself into the manʼs arms, "I feel that the army is tearing apart my own soul," she yelled among her sobs.

"And it is doing it for sure," the man answered patting the girlʼs back in a comforting gesture, "But this war will be over in no time, and heʼll return to you very soon…youʼll see."

The priest and the girl stood on the platform for a long while. Graubner had gone to the station with the purpose to see Terri off, but when he had descried from the distance the coupleʼs moving farewells, he thought that it would have been a blasphemy to interrupt, and he had preferred to wait until the young man had departed to offer all the moral support the young wife would need.

"It hurts so much!" she replied sadly.

"Then, cry a little bit more, until you get out of tears . . . Later, it will be time to start praying. Iʼll do it with you," the man promised.

Above, thick clouds covered the sky and a light fog began to fall over Paris.

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Authorʼs notes:

This chapter was supposed to be Candyʼs birthday present, but I just couldnʼt make it on time. Though, I donʼt regret it because now I feel quite happy with the results.

What you just read is my respectful tribute to Candy and Terriʼs love and I hope not to have offended anyone. The merit of these lines is not all mine. I owe a lot to Nila for inspiring some parts of this chapter and also to Michelle (Michie) who is my most severe and helpful critic. Many scenes were improved and enhanced thanks to her invaluable suggestions.

Now, we are just two chapters away from the end. It has been a long journey for all of us, and especially for Candy and Terri. Letʼs pray with our heroine and our dear priest that God can protect Terrence while he is risking his life in the Western Front.

Thanks also to Elaine, Sophie and Misanagi for all their help.

ALYS AVALOS

CULTURAL NOTES:


Jacques Prévert was a real person who was 18 years old and lived in Paris by the time Candy and Terrence got married in this story. Prévert became indeed a famous poet and movie script writer. Some of his poems were made into songs. The song that our hero translates in this chapter is entitled "Les Feuilles Mortes" ( Known as "Autum leaves" in the English version) and it became very famous during the 1950ʼs.

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[domniki]

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

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Intrigues, Jealousy and Courage.

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The racket in the house was perennial. Could it be different when 20 children from 3 to 10 years old lived in it? But the old woman was used to the constant hustle and bustle and sometimes she got to think that she wouldnʼt feel at ease without it. Twenty five years of constant noise, endless domestic adventures, sweet innocent laughter and more than a thousand and one tears to wipe, that had been the best part of her life, and she didnʼt regret one second of all those years spent at Ponyʼs Home, her home.

She left aside the spoon and let the stew boil at will for a while. In that moment a little hand pulled her long skirt and she looked down to see a tiny pouting face with large black eyes.

"Will I have to eat that?" the little girl asked not quite excited with the perspective.

"Yes you will, Andrea," replied the old woman with a motherly smile, "But I will give you a larger piece of pie as dessert," she promised and the little girlʼs face lit up.

"I love you, Miss Pony!" said the child spreading her arms while the old lady took the girl in hers. A second later Andrea was giving a loud kiss on the womanʼs cheek and the lady couldnʼt avoid the memory of another child she had raised in the past to come to her mind. The lady crushed the girl in her arms as though she wanted to protect her from an unknown danger. How she wished to be able to keep under her care every single child she had brought up, but she knew that all of them had to leave the nest and face the world soon or later.

"Now go outside and play a little more while dinner is ready, is that all right?" the woman sweetly commanded putting the child back to the floor and the child obeyed immediately.

Miss Pony turned off the fire and put the stew on the kitchen table as more memories flooded her head. Memories of a little girl with curly blond hair and glittering green eyes that sparked with multiple lights when she laughed, remembrances of that little girl leaving Ponyʼs Home for the first time, holding her tears and fighting desperately to be brave as she forced herself to smile.

Memories of the child who had become a woman and was far, far away, in a foreign country, in the middle of chaos, doing exactly the same she had done all her life, giving herself to others with love and compassion. The old woman couldnʼt hold her own tears from falling as she looked at a photo of Candy wearing her military uniform, which was resting on the chimney, with all the other photos of the dearest Ponyʼs children. How she wished to be able to protect her courageous Candy as she could do it when she was a baby, holding her tiny body in her warm arms as she sang a lullaby to make her fall asleep.

The old lady remembered that her fears for Candyʼs security had started very early, when the six year old girl climbed boldly to the tree tops and Miss Pony usually died a hundred times fearing that the little girl could get hurt if she fell from the branches. As time went on, the girl grew up and left home, to face a world that more than once left her heart broken. How Miss Pony wished to be able to avoid that pain. If she only could have the power to keep Candy safe so that nothing and nobody could ever hurt her again . . . But she knew that was impossible.

"Itʼs been over a year since we last saw our Candy, Sister Lyn," she said aloud but no answer from the next room came to her ears, "Sister Lyn? Sister Lyn?" the old lady called again, but then she realized that Sister Lyn was not in the dining room as she had thought.

The lady went out of the kitchen and in her way she found a little boy rushing in the corridor.

"Have you seen Sister Lyn, Brandon?" asked Miss Pony.

"Yes, madam, she is in the chapel," the boy answered and Miss Pony let him go while she headed to the room they used as a chapel.

When the old lady arrived, she could see her faithful partner kneeling in front of the altar and Miss Pony was disconcerted because that was not the regular hour for Sister Lynʼs prayers and she certainly was a woman of disciplined habits.

When she got close enough, the lady that the nun was lighting several candles while her lips repeated a prayer.

"Anything wrong Sister Lyn?" Miss Pony dared to interrupt.

"Not right now," the nun began to explain as she turned her head to face her old friend. "This morning, when I said my first prayers, I felt that black days are coming, Miss Pony. I donʼt know when or how long they would last. But Iʼm certain that we have to pray for our grown up children and their friends." the woman kept saying, "For this reason Iʼm lighting these candles. The two larger ones are for Candy and Mr. Grandchester."

"Will they be in danger?" asked Miss Pony crossing herself.

"I donʼt know, Miss Pony, but we must pray for them," said Sister Lyn with serious tone. "This another one is for Annie, this for Mr. Cornwell, these two for Tom and his fiancée, and this another one is for Mr. Audrey. A time of trial is coming for all of them," the woman ended also crossing herself.

"We cannot protect them, Sister Lyn, yet in God we trust," whispered Miss Pony and her friend nodded in agreement.

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There had been too many new emotions for someone to cope with in less than 24 hours. Candy had gone from anguish to the most perfect bliss and then she had been sent back to yearning and fear. Yet, when father Graubner left her at the hospital entrance the young woman understood that she had to put her feelings aside in order to face her duty. Everything seemed to be upside down in the hospital halls. Nurses and doctors were running up and down, boxes of drugs and medical equipment in the middle of the way, and lots of stretchers with wounded men just left on the floor, waiting for their turn to be sent, either to a ward or to the surgery room. She knew immediately what was happening: a new train with wounded men had just arrived.

"Where the hell were you Candy?" yelled a female voice that the blonde recognized at once, "You were supposed to be on duty since 7 oʼclock! Can I know what was the princess doing?" demanded Flammy vehemently.

"Flammy, Iʼm sorry . . . I. . ." began Candy wondering how she would explain to her friend what she had lived during the previous hours.

"I thought that you had matured but . . ."

"Stop that, Flammy!" interrupted a third female voice with firm but conciliatory tone.

Candy turned her head to see Julienneʼs amber eyes that were looking at her with an understanding glance.

"Iʼm sure that Candy has a good reason for her unusual absence," continued Julienne, "but we canʼt loose time with explanations now. It would be better if she just puts on her uniform right away and starts helping us. Donʼt you think, Flammy?" and getting closer to the younger brunette, Julienne whispered to her ear so that nobody but Flammy could hear. "Remember that you are not only the boss here, but also Candyʼs friend. You know she wouldnʼt neglect her work without a good reason."

The expression on the brunetteʼs face changed immediately as she heard the last words.

"All right, Candy get that uniform on. Weʼll talk about this later," Flammy finally said addressing to the blonde.

The three women parted running in different directions while two light blue eyes were looking at them with upset glare, behind the nurses roomʼs door. When the three nurses had disappeared in the corridors the owner of those eyes came into the light. It was Nancy.

"If it had been me," the woman thought bitterly, "Flammy would have been much tougher . . . but since the blondie is her friend . . . That silly girl! So beautiful and lovable that makes me sick!"

Nancy Thorndike, who had been Terriʼs nightmare during his first days in the hospital, had not forgotten the humiliation she had endured when all the patients in the ward A-12 had demanded her to be replaced by Candy. The woman hadnʼt made a single comment on the matter, but kept the resentment in her heart waiting for a chance to take revenge. But her troubles had not ended when she was transferred again to ward C-10. When the patients in that ward realized that Nancy had been assigned to be taking care of them instead of Candy, they all adopted a rough attitude with the dry woman and worked hard on making her life miserable with great success.

So many problems Nancy had had that Flammy made arrangements to have her away from patientsʼ direct attention. Hence, the woman had been doing administrative work for about a month. During that time she had been assigned to the hospitals archives where her strict sense of order had finally found the prefect place to flourish. However, that did not please Nancy because she still resented the rejection from her patients, which she considered as a professional failure. Nancy blamed Candy for all those troubles.

"She is so confident because the nurse in chief is best friend to her and doctor Bonnot drools for her . . . who knows, maybe the French doctor already got his way with the girl and that is why he is so protective with her . . . But one of these days, Candice White, one of these days you are going to run out of luck!" she last thought before she started walking towards Colonel Vouillardʼs office.

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The sun was setting over the vast French forest. The thundering roar over the railroad broke the placid silence as the train crossed along the woods in its always hustled rush. The few passengers inside the wagons had traveled all the day long from Paris, enduring the constant delays in every single station they had been to during their journey. However, with each new turn of the iron wheels they were closer to their destination. In a matter of minutes the train would be arriving to Verdun.

Terrence let escape a sigh remembering that at exactly the same hour the day before, he was lost in Candyʼs embrace over Saint Michelle bridge. A sweet and sad smile discretely appeared on his lips as a rich collection of feelings and sensations came to his mind. Just eight hours before he was still in her arms, but he was already longing for her. Yet, this time his yearning was not bitter, because with every single minute the clock advanced, he knew, the end of the war was closer and so was the happiness he once had believed impossible. This simple thought was enough to make him feel strong, despite the imminent danger he was about to face again.

For Terrenceʼs eyes, all the possible horrors that a new battle could bring paled at the light which was flowing in his soul. The marvel of being loved and loving in return flooded his mind with a blend of sweet memories and bright expectations. A particular fragrance surrounded his heart and he could feel how it invaded his whole being. Without noticing it he was smiling openly while his fingers caressed the crucifix he had in his hand.

He felt such joy inside that he wanted to cry out his happiness to the four winds, but he knew it was better to keep his mirth just for himself, at least for some time.

"Oh, Albert!" he thought then, "I wish you were here to share all this with you. I know you will approve the decisions we made."

In that moment Terri decided that Albert was the first person who deserved to know the news and he made up his mind to write a letter to his friend as soon as he got to Verdun.

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September the 4th , 1918

Dearest friend,

As I write this letter to you I am trying to imagine your face when you read the news on these lines. If you were a different person you would probably get mad at me for what I have just done, but the Albert I once met appreciates and respects his friendsʼ decisions when they are legitimate.

Iʼm aware that you donʼt ignore the reasons that separated me from Candy in the past. Yet, as I told you in my last letter, those motives no longer exist, whilst my love for Candy still lives within me, even deeper and more powerful than ever before.

There was a dark period of my past when I thought this love of mine was useless, because I believed it was not requited anymore. As astounding as it might sound, I have just found an unexpected grace and for the first time in my life I decided to grab happiness with my two hands and not let it go again. She loves me! That says it all! She loves me and then my whole universe has a new face!

Please, Albert forgive me for the madness that claimed my heart when I found out that whatever I had believed hopelessly lost was still mine. In that moment I was so overwhelmed that only could think about this joy Candy and I shared, and without any other regard I asked her to marry me. She accepted and we got married three days ago. It was a decision made in a rush because I was about to leave for the front again, and now that I think about it I can proudly tell you that I donʼt regret it a bit. Marrying Candy is the best idea that has ever come to my mind.

However, I am aware that your family would have rather had the chance to attend such an occasion and throw a large and luxurious ceremony, yet my dear friend, in that moment any consideration beyond this love of us seemed futile. We wanted to be together in a way that nobody can ever force us into a new separation. Today, I am back in the Front, in Verdun, but the bound that unites Candy and me is beyond geographical distances. Now we are only waiting for this war to end so that we can go back home and start a new life together.

I know you have cared for Candyʼs well-being since she was a child. It has always been you who has stood by her side through thick and thin and now that she is my wife I promise you that I will use my life to take care of her with the same devotion. You will always have a very special place in our hearts and in our home, dear friend. I will never ever forget that we met because you once decided to send her to England. I owe you my life and hope.

I only expect that you can find the same happiness and fulfillment that we are experiencing now.

Please, dear Albert, you can tell our close friends about this, but make sure the press does not learn about it yet. When we come back to The United States, I will find the way to face them all and tell the world about my joy, but right now it is better for us to keep it in secret for I was not supposed to get married being a recruit. I know that you understand my feelings.

Take care, my friend and keep on fighting to pursue your own dreams. Now I can tell you that sometimes dreams come true over this Earth.

Yours sincerely,

Terrence

Albert sighed deeply as he finished his reading. An old and dear image of his early life shone in his memory in that moment. For a brief second he was again a teenager and Candy was a small girl looking at him with amazed face and still watery eyes. She was there, kneeling over the grass with her impossibly curly hair in her two pig tails and those large green pools still reddened for her recent cry, so cute and charming as a six year old little cherubim.

"Who are you….a ghost or an alien?" she had asked with startled tone.

And then he had tried his best to explain to that pretty little thing that he was a human being as she was, and that his particular outfit was just a Scottish custom. He had noticed that the girl was sad and attempted to set her in a better mood playing his bagpipe for her.

"It sounds like snails crawling!" had been her comment after listening to the

Scottish tone he had played for her, and he just couldnʼt avoid an open laughter at the funny statement.

"Little girl, you look much prettier when you smile!" the grown up Albert mumbled as he folded the letter and put it back in its envelope "I guess our

Candy is not a little girl anymore," he thought as he reclined in his armchair,

"She is now a married woman . . .Oh Candy! Weʼve come a long way together since that day on Ponyʼs Hill!"

Albertʼs blue eyes shone in delight remembering how nervous he had felt when he had signed the adoption papers eight years before. Back then, he wondered if he was going to be able to face the responsibility of taking care of a young girl. Since that day, he always worried and wondered if he was doing the right thing for her, if the decisions he was making for Candyʼs sake were really the best for his protégée. To look after someone is especially difficult when you care so much for that person . . . But now that she had found her own way in the arms of the man she loved, Albert felt that he had accomplished his task satisfactorily.

"I am so happy for you both, Candy and Terri," he told himself with gladness, but then a black shadowed crossed his fine features, "But now . . . there is someone else I should worry for . . . How am I going to tell Archie about this?"

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The personnel at Saint Jacques Hospital had to work double turn because of the new arrival of wounded men from Arras, and then a fifth part of the nurses and doctors worked for a third shift to maintain the hospital working while the others took a 6 hours break. After 36 hours of continuous work Candy, Flammy and Julienne went back to their rooms to get the rest they urgently needed. The young blonde took a shower and put on her nightgown while Flammy took her turn in the bathroom. When the brunette was coming out of the shower she remembered that Candy still owed her an explanation for her absence.

"Now can I know where you were all that night?" asked Flammy inquisitively as she dried her long brown hair with a towel, but soon she realized that her roommate was already in dreamland. "Maybe you are right Candy," Flammy said to her sleeping friend as she also got herself into a set of cotton pajamas. "We should get some sleep. Later on weʼll have time to talk."

Flammy got under her sheets and before she fell asleep, she heard the blonde whispering a name.

"Oh no!" Flammy sighed in resignation, "another night of Terri this and Terri that, even in her dreams! God, spare me! Could she at least close her always talking mouth when she is sleeping?" giggled Flammy before she turned off the lights.

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A soft knock at the door announced the visit Candy was already expecting. The girl had woken up and got dressed, but Flammy was still sleeping deeply.

"Come in," Candy said in almost a murmur and the door opened silently. It was Julienne.

"How are you gals feeling this morning?" asked the older woman closing the door behind her back and coming closer to Candy, "I see that our fearless leader is still dreaming of angels," she commented.

"Sheʼll be up soon, youʼll see," replied Candy smiling and Julienne could notice a new light on the blondeʼs expression.

"O.K. girl. You can tell Flammy the whole story when she wakes up, but you have to spill the beans just right now for me. I canʼt wait!" giggled the woman with a playful spark in her amber eyes.

"Oh Julie!" was all that Candy could say before her cheeks went beautifully blushed, "I donʼt know how I should start," she said holding her face with both hands.

"Your face has already said most of it," Julienne smiled as she invited her friend to sit down on the bed to continue the conversation. "When you didnʼt get back in all the evening our poor Flammy here was awfully worried because of you, but I knew there wasnʼt anything to worry about because you were with him," explained the woman excitedly.

"I donʼt know what happened to me . . . I just didnʼt think that you gals could be preoccupied . . ." the blonde said not able to find a justification.

"Donʼt even try to excuse yourself, Candy," chuckled Julienne amused. "A couple in love that is about to be separated does not need to apologize for having forgotten about the rest of world. But tell me, was it all that you expected?" the woman asked intentionally.

"More than I ever dreamed, he . . ." she hesitated a bit, "he asked me to marry him!"

"Thatʼs the least he could have done, that stubborn man," Julienne commented giggling.

"But is not all!" the blonde went on blushing fiercely, "We actually got married!"

"You did what?!!!" cried a third feminine voice coming from the other bed surprising Candy and Julienne, "You two went crazy or what? That is illegal. . . he…he is in the Army!" said a stunned Flammy sitting on her bed.

"And you were listening pretending to be sleeping!" joked Julienne highly entertained with the funny picture of the young brunette with the hair in disarray and the shock drawn on her face, "Come on, Flammy donʼt start pouting now. They are in love and there are not rules against that. Would you have preferred that our Candy spent the evening with a man without being married?"

"Of course not, but . . ." tried to argue the brunette but then she remembered Candyʼs angelical face while she slept the previous evening, so dazzling and peaceful as she hadnʼt seen it ever before and in that moment she understood the reason of that new happiness in her friend, "Well . . . donʼt look at me that way Julienne!" Flammy protested, "I guess I will have to congratulate you, Candy," the young woman admitted standing up from her bed to hug the blond.

"We both have to do it!" Julienne added joining the other two women and once the first euphoria had been appeased the two brunettes sat down next to the blonde as Julienne asked her questions that made Candy blush and shocked Flammy, but not enough for the latter lose interest in the conversation.

"Have you realized what all this could mean?" asked Julienne holding Candyʼs hands in a maternal gesture, "You could be pregnant in this very moment! Have you thought about that?" the older woman said with a radiant smile.

"You think so?" wondered Candy opening her enormous eyes widely as she instinctively took one of her hands to her abdomen.

"Well, that is technically possible, you girls know it. But we have to wait for a couple of months before adventuring any diagnose," was Flammyʼs authorized comment but Candy did not listen to her because her mind was already too overwhelmed by the sweet possibility of been carrying Terrenceʼs child inside her.

For years, which had seemed like centuries, she had given up the intimate dream of raising a family with Terri, yet all of a sudden, the dream could turn into a marvelous reality. So happy she felt with the idea that she did not stop to consider that in the middle of a war and away from home, being pregnant could be more of a problem than a joy. However, nothing could have paled Candyʼs bliss in that instant.

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My Beloved Candy,

September 3rd, 1918

Itʼs been a day since I left Paris and it already seems a century without you in my arms. I arrived at Verdun in the evening without any problems and now I am again with my platoon. It seems that we are not seeing any action soon and since the Germans are retreating at different points in the border, it is possible that the war may end before we face a real battle. Please, my sweet angel, do not worry about me. I promise I will be fine and I intend to keep my word . . . .

September 4th

. . . . This longing for you is still deep but different, my love. Whereas in the past your memory was a dear wound in my heart that would bleed every time I breathed, now, knowing that your love is mine, knowing that we are free to surrender to this love, thinking of you is a joy that heals my soul and gives me strength to go on . . .

September 5th

. . . . During the evening, while I am on duty and in the distance I can hear the blasting roar of far away detonations, I close my eyes from time to time to see your sweet smile and in that moment I know that, despite the darkness around me, I am the most fortunate man on this world. If I once suffered pain, or felt alone, or underwent hard trials, now I have forgotten them all. But today I rather think about the future, you see, and get used to make plans for both of us. Itʼs been so long since I had to quit imagining a future together that I feel as if I were another person. I had tried to accept the idea that my personal play was only going to be about "me" for the rest of my life, which was not quite a bright perspective. However, now I wake up and think about "us" and amaze myself with this wonderful feeling that some people called hope.

September 6th

. . . . You already met this guy, Captain Jackson, once. He is the funniest man Iʼve ever known. For a reason I donʼt quite understand he has a sort of obsession with peopleʼs speech. He pretends to find out about peopleʼs past just by listening to them speaking. I have given him a sort of hard time toying with him, confusing him with my accent. Well, that was until I saw you again and because of your fault I lost concentration and forgot about Jackson. But who could blame me because of that? How could I think about other thing when you appeared in such a sudden way leaving me dizzy with this blend of joy and pain?

Now that Iʼm back, this Jackson is curious because he notices something different in me, but he just canʼt figure out what it is . . . And it is you! You, that made me a different man. You, who recreated me to see the world in a new way. You, who brought new meaning to this life of mine.

September 7th

. . . When I thought I had lost you forever, I used to toy with a fantasy I believed impossible. I would dream that you were mine for at least a night and each time I woke up from that seducing reverie I used to think that having such a grace for at least one occasion would be enough for my heart . . .However, I know now that I was wrong. Iʼve just discovered that my heart is hopelessly greedy when it comes to your caresses. I long for the taste your lips and the warmth of your disquieting body. It is not enough with one passionate night with you. I want you badly and need you with me for the rest of my life and beyond. I miss you, Candy.

September 8th

. . . . Oh Candy! Today I woke up in a bad mood! I wanted to beat every human being that crossed my way, but did not understand the reason. So I looked for a private place, during my leave hours and played the harmonica for a while. It helped a lot to put my thoughts together and after a while I ended up understanding what was going on with me. I was jealous, that was all that was troubling me. I know it is silly, but I just canʼt avoid to be uncomfortably jealous of every single human being who has now the fortune to be by your side.

I am jealous of those who can see into the green meadows of your eyes, while Iʼm away from you. I am madly jealous of every patient that you are looking after in this moment and in my insane mind, Iʼm jealous of the time you spend away from me, and of the clothes that caress your body and of the thoughts that cross your mind in which I am not included.

Will you still love me being as insane as I am? Please, donʼt reproach me for my possessiveness. More than once I renounced to you because of the circumstances, and now that you are mine, I just canʼt let you go. I want you for me and for me only. But do not worry, I wonʼt be your jailer, I promise that youʼll always have all the freedom you want. It is rather that you have me imprisoned in your love and I donʼt have any other joy but the thoughts of you. Forgive me for my insanity. I am just madly in love with you.

September 9th

Loving you without hope was a real hell. Imagining that you were someone elseʼs wife was the most awful torment I ever went through. Thinking that you could keep resentments against me was even worse. But perhaps the most painful sorrow was the idea that I would never see you again, never hear again your voice calling my name, never take your hands in mine or hold you in my arms with all this passion that I keep just for you. Did you feel the same pain when you thought, like me, that our love was dead?

Therefore, nothing I could face now can compare to that suffering. I am so happy now in the middle of this narrow trench where I am writing this lines that, if someone could look into my heart right now, that person would think I am going crazy. How can I have so much light inside when everything around is dark? It is not me, my love, it is the bonfire of your love within me that lights up my heart. Yet, my joy cannot be complete until I have you by my side. I need you with me and sometimes get desperate with this mad war that I wish could disappear at once, so that we can both be back home . . . our home.

We have just received orders to mobilize. It is possible that we face the enemy in a nearby place, to the South. However, that is just a rumor because here in the army every single thing seems to be a major secret and most of the time we receive the definitive instructions at the last moment. For this reason I am now sending to you all these letters taking advantage of the first mail truck that leaves the camp since I arrived here. I hope you can have my lines soon. I have just received two of your letters and have them near my heart along with your crucifix. I read and read again your loving words an imagine your beloved eyes, my angel. How I long to see my image reflected on those green mirrors. Please, my dear wife – By George! Calling you this way is so sweet – take care and do not worry about me. Iʼm in Godʼs hands and Iʼm sure that he will preserve my life to make you happy.

Yours passionately,

Terri

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September 5th

My love,

Thereʼs something I didnʼt have time to tell you. This summer that is dying as I write to you, was the first one with sunny days that Iʼve enjoyed in years. Ever since I left New York, the cold of that night covered my heart keeping it frozen even during summer time. Nothing could warm me up . . . nothing but you, your smile, the look of your eyes, your arms . . .Deep inside I knew it, but I tried hard to deny it all. Now, I donʼt need to hide my own feelings.

Even though you are away, I still feel warm and safe, for I know your heart is with me and the memory of every caress weʼve shared keeps the warming flames in me. However, it is needless to say how much I miss you. I yearn for your words in my ear, your jokes, your laughter and even your anger, and I must also confess that I long for that intimate world of our own that we created together during our first night. My body and my soul need you badly, my love.

The day you left was so difficult! We had lots of work but even with so many things to do, I couldnʼt stop thinking of you. Did you feel my thoughts kissing your temples? Did you hear my soul calling yours that evening when I went to bed? Oh, Terri! Iʼll count the days and hours and seconds until I see you again.

As days go by, I dream about our future together and the perspective seems so wonderful that I hardly can believe it and yet, I have to convince myself that Iʼm your wife. When I read the news about the Alliesʼ victories I understand that soon Iʼll be by your side. Then I engross myself imagining a thousand ways to make you smile. Iʼll save each one of those ideas to use them all next time I see you. Meanwhile, think of me as much as I think of you.

With all my heart,

Your Candy.

P.S. Did I forget to write that I love you?

​

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The first cold gust of September swept the dried leaves over the Audreyʼs garden, making them fly in gracious circles and taking them away from the trees where they had been born. The noise of horse hooves could be heard in the distance, running across the immense estate. The rhythmic pounding grew louder as the horse could finally be spotted coming down the hill.

Dressed with a black riding suit and leather boots, a blond man mounted over an Arabian stallion, running across the meadows. His fair hair flew with the wind, tangled with the loosened silken scarf he had around the neck. His light blue eyes glared with a fiery expression, full of repressed anger and indignation.

The horse approached the stables and the blond rider pulled the reins to slow down the animalʼs pace until he made it stop. A stableman ran to help his master and a minute later the young man dressed in black was walking slowly towards the mansion while a turmoil of exalted thoughts assaulted his worried mind.

"A lynching!" repeated Albert to himself, " How could it be possible! Here in

Illinois! In America, the so called land of freedom and hope! How low can violence and intolerance make us fall!"

The young man came into his chamber and with fast moves he began to take off his clothes. He shook his golden strands energetically as he entered in the bathroom where a tub filled with warm water was already waiting for him. A hot bath after a long ride had always had an appeasing effect in his mood. Nevertheless, that day his indignation was so deep that he couldnʼt find the usual release even when his lean muscles submerged into the warm liquid.

That morning Albert had read in the papers that a group of right wing extremists had lynched a German immigrant in the South of Illinois because he was supposedly against the participation of the United States in the war. The news had been the last straw for the young millionaire who had followed with indignation the growing governmentʼs repression during those war times.

Because of the historical moment President Wilsonʼs administration had created different institutions that controlled the industrial production and directed the economy to afford the war expenses. On the other hand, the government also tried to unify the public opinion by a massive advertising campaign that exhorted the citizenship to support the USA army and by designing laws and restrictions that censured and punished any sign of disagreement with the governmentʼs dispositions.

Whereas Wilson succeeded to manage the countryʼs economy with rather positive results, the peopleʼs freedom was seriously threatened by his Laws of Sabotage and Sedition. But frank opposition to the war was not the only idea that was censored. Since the Russian revolution had started, the USA center and right wings feared the growth of communism in America, thus the socialist party and their supporters were also repressed. In general, any sort of public disagreement with the governmentʼs policies was severely punished with jail and people were encouraged to denounce their neighbors and acquaintances if they showed signs of sedition. The press was forced to publish only those news that confirmed the Alliesʼ success and the AEFʼs heroic deeds.

Such measures had awakened old ethnic resentments and ultra nationalistic tendencies. German, Irish and Jewish immigrants were harassed, fired and openly rejected. Discrimination became a sort of legal practice because of the war and the nationʼs sake. Freethinking was also condemned in the intellectual circles. Students in the universities had to be careful with the ideas they admitted if they didnʼt want to be expelled. Humanist leader Eugene V. Debs, a man Albert admired, had been recently sent to jail because of his ideas with a 10 year sentence, and to make matters worse, that morning the news told the story of a lynching.

Albert, who was a man that believed in ideological freedom and non violent methods, was utterly upset with the recent events. He was convinced that a government that is not willing to hear the peopleʼs opinions when they are not favorable to the official dispositions, was destined to failure. Moreover, he also feared that even the economical measures taken by Wilson were not going to be enough to avoid the economical collapse that soon or later the war would bring. Albert was sure that the worse was yet to come, in the years that would follow when the war had ended.

"This conflict will bring a terrible economical voracity," he thought while toying with the slippery piece of soap in his hands, "When the fight ends the Allied countries will try to make the Central Powers pay for their war expenses, they wonʼt have enough money to pay their debts and then international loans will be asked . . . Where is that money going to come from?" he wondered and in his mind he could only find one single answer, "From us, American bankers, of course! That could seem a very juicy business . . . .Though, in the long run, it might be a dangerous adventure . . . . I have to warn Archie about it before I leave the family business in his hands."

This last thought made Albert forget for a while about his social and political concern and at the same time reminded him of a family affair that he had to deal with very soon. In fact, he had made up his mind to face the problem that very day.

"Archie, Archie!" Albert told himself, "I donʼt want to see your face when I tell you the news!" and with this last thought Albert submerged completely into the water trying to wash away his worries. However, a second after a shy knock at the door made the young man come back to reality.

"Mr. Audrey," said Georgeʼs voice, " Mr. Cornwell is already waiting for you in your studio."

"Tell him Iʼll be there in a minute," responded the young man coming out of the bathtub.

Being the practical man that he was, it only took a few minutes for Albert to be ready in his usually flawless tailor suit and oxford shoes. With the blond strands still slightly wet, the man addressed his steps to his studio, walking with firm strides along the elegant corridor. A boring day with endless affairs and decisions to make was waiting for the two young tycoons, but that morning the financial transactions were not the main preoccupation in William Albert Audreyʼs head.

When Albert arrived at the studio his nephew was already reading some of the stock reports that George had brought for them. For the moment, the older man came into the room and greeted one another with the usual tap on the shoulder. Soon, they were deeply concentrated on their work, while Albert seriously instructed Archie on the family affairs, making sure to transmit to his nephew the sober principles that characterized his personal way to do business. Archie ignored in that moment that ten years later those lessons would save the Audreyʼs fortune from the total bankruptcy during the Great Depression decade.

"I want you to have a look at this," said the older man handing in to his nephew a few documents.

The young man checked out the papers and after a while, not giving credit to his eyes, he brushed away his sandy strands in order to read again with more attention. Once he had made sure he had understood the meaning of the documents he lifted his eyes with an inquiring glance in his almond irises.

"Am I wrong or these documents will end up our society with Loka & Loka Co.?" wondered Archie in disbelief.

"You are right," nodded Albert with a slight smile "As soon as they sign these papers, it will be the fortunate end of all our common business with the Lokas."

"I must admit that I am glad that we will not have to see our dear cousinsʼ faces in every meeting, but wasnʼt our society with their company kind of convenient for the Audreys?" asked Archie skeptically.

"Just apparently," responded Albert collectedly, "They were the ones who received more benefits out of this society and I thought that one day we might get to regret such association."

"What do you mean?" demanded Archie raising one eyebrow suspiciously.

"I always felt uncomfortable with the idea that in the future Neil would inherit the Lokaʼs fortune. I sincerely doubt that he could ever be as good a businessman as his father, and I am also afraid that in the years to come he might be a burden on our own affairs. Since I took the control of our companies, I decided to follow a well planned strategy to end our association with the Lokaʼs, little by little. A few stocks today, a few more the following week, and so on until this very day. I hope that tomorrow they can sign these papers and weʼll finally be free and safe, which is especially important since Neil will be twenty one pretty soon."

"Did that cost us a lot of money?" asked Archie still doubtful.

"Not really if you take into account what I have recently discovered," explained Albert giving Archie a large yellow envelope.

"Whatʼs this?"

"Certain things in Neilʼs behavior got me a little suspicious, and so I asked George to have his people following your dearest cousinʼs moves. What you have in your hands is a very detailed report of Neilʼs and Lizaʼs activities. Through those pages you will find out that both of them are closely related to a group of people of not recommendable reputation in this city." Albert went on in his explanation with extraordinary calm as he caressed the quiet hound resting by his side.

"These people are delinquents!" gasped Archie after reading the report.

"Well, in certain way yes, but they are so smart that the authorities have not found anything to prove all the possible charges against them" riposted the blue-eyed man.

"Will you tell my uncle about this?" asked Archie alarmed.

"Yes, but I donʼt think he will believe what this report has to say. He has always denied himself to see the kind of children heʼs got. Anyway, if Neil and Liza get too involved with their new friends, then our family will not have to fear any problem that can affect our business. If the Lokas ever dare to go beyond the law, I will be very sorry for Sarah, but I am afraid neither you nor I would be able to help them to avoid the consequences of their foolishness."

"You can be sure I wonʼt move a finger, Albert. There are certain things that I will never forgive them. Iʼm really glad you did all this on time," commented Archie with satisfaction.

"So am I, but now let me show you the new real estate company that I just bought . . ." the uncle went on and both men engaged in reviewing a long list with incomes and outcomes results as Albert kept on commenting about his discomfort with the governmentʼs policies.

Uncle and nephew continued their work diligently until a couple of hours later one of the maids came into the room with the tea that Albert had ordered. Then, they left their task aside to give themselves a break while the older man amused himself feeding the slender hound with pieces of pastries. Inwardly, Albert was trying to find the right moment to tell Archie about the news that had just arrived from France, but since he didnʼt find the way to start he went round the bushes for a while talking about the Allies advances in France and Italy. But Archie, who was kind of absentminded, had just responded with monosyllabic words to his uncleʼs statements.

"Are you listening to me?" asked the blue-eyed man trying to catch his nephewʼs attention.

"Huh?…Oh yes the democrats….Iʼll vote for the republican party anyway," was Archieʼs abrupt response as he sipped the tea.

"Archie! We ended that topic ages ago. I was talking about the war. Whatʼs going on with you?"

"Sorry, Albert . . . It is just that I was thinking about Annie and . . .." the young man hesitated changing his posture in the leather arm chair he was sitting in.

"I see…You donʼt have to give me any further explanation," replied Albert trying to lessen Archieʼs embarrassment.

"Thank you…As a matter of fact, I think I havenʼt thanked you enough for all your support through all this, especially with Mr. and Mrs. Brighton," thanked the younger man with a shy smile.

"You are welcome Archie. It was the least I could do as the head of the family," said Albert casually.

"Yes, but I understand that it was not easy at all to face Mr. Brighton. He has always been a kind and polite man, but with this break up he got really upset. But you handled the whole situation very wisely. Iʼm really sorry you had to go through that embarrassing moment because of me," apologized Archie, who felt honestly ashamed for having involved Albert in his personal problems.

"Donʼt even say it. You know that I support your decision just because it is yours and I respect that. But you havenʼt told me yet what plans you have now that you are a free man," said Albert finally seeing a way to begin the conversation he was reluctant to have.

"Well….I have certain hopes . . . but Iʼll have to postpone all my plans until the war ends….though I can hardly wait," admitted the younger man and his almond eyes shone with a special glitter while he stood up with a sudden energetic impulse.

"Hopes? . .. Archie, you are not telling me that you plan. . ." wondered Albert visibly alarmed by his nephewʼs words and attitude.

"Yes, Albert! I know that you donʼt believe I have a chance, but I have decided to try once more and when Candy comes back I will start courting her. If she refuses at the beginning because of Annie, I will not give up. I will fight for her love no matter how long it takes," said Archie euphorically.

"No you are not!" retorted Albert vehemently.

"What do you mean? Are you going to forbid me to seek for my happiness? Youʼve just said that you respect my decisions…Why would this decision be different?" asked Archie confused by his uncle and friendʼs response.

"No Archie it is not that I forbid you to seek for your happiness…it is just that…"

"Maybe you are thinking about courting Candy yourself, forgetting about the legal bounds that link you to her!" blurted the young man visibly upset with Albertʼs disapproval.

"What nonsense are you saying, Archie?" scolded Albert, offended by the young manʼs insinuation, yet his kind and collected nature soon took control and he immediately excused his nephew, "But I forgive you because I know you are out of your mind! . . I wish you could find the woman that you really need but I am afraid that you canʼt even think of Candy in a romantic way because now she is…"

"What!?" asked Archie with a fiery look in his light eyes.

"Archie, sit down. There is a piece of news that Iʼve just received yesterday. I was going to tell you and all our friends this week…."said the older man trying to cool down the situation.

"What happened to Candy?! Is she fine? Please donʼt tell me that she is …" asked Archie desperately seizing Albertʼs shoulders.

"No Archie! Calm down! She is fine. Actually she is now better than she has ever been before. Better than you and I together," Albert hurried to explain as he invited the younger man to sit down again.

"Then, what is it that would not allow me to confess her my feelings?"

"Archie, please…I received news from France . . ." Albert said with calm tone while getting out an envelope from his desk, "In this letter I was told about an important decision Candy has made. If fact, when the war ends as Iʼm sure it will very soon, Candy will not come back to live in Chicago."

"But why?" wondered Archie, awfully confused.

"Archie, I hope that you understand and take it as the gentleman you are…When Candy comes back she will be living in New York."

"Why would she live in New York? She doesnʼt know anybody there . . ." Archieʼs eyes wandered for a while trying to find a logic explanation to recover the balance his mind had suddenly lost, but a second later an anxious glare dominated his eyes with a blend of anger and disbelief, " except . . . No! You are not telling me that she has decided to look for that son of a bitch who doesnʼt even give a damn for her!" he exploded.

"First of all, I would appreciate if you didnʼt insult a fried of mine that way," retorted Albert firmly, " and second, Archie, listen to me, you are right when you think that this is all about Terrence, but it is not the way you are thinking. Perhaps you ignore it, but when the USA declared war on Germany, Terrence enrolled in the army. After that, it was all a matter of fate. Candy and Terri found each other in France…" Albert finally said, really sorry to hurt the young man so deeply.

"But how was it?" asked Archie with shaking voice.

"Iʼm afraid Terrence was wounded and sent to the same hospital where Candy was working. In fact, she looked after him during his convalescence," clarified Albert.

"OF COURSE!" cried out Archie in an outburst while standing up again and walking aimlessly around the large room, "And the bastard took advantage of the situation! What a dirty way to play."

"Archie!" gasped Albert not knowing what else to say.

"I can see that you have already sided with Grandchester," said Archie reproachfully, "but if you think that this time I will remain silent and give up as I did before, you and Grandchester are wrong! Are you asking me to behave as a gentleman? Well, let me tell you that Iʼm sick of being a gentleman! I will fight for Candyʼs love no matter if she is his girlfriend now, because he doesnʼt deserve her!" he concluded agitating his right arm with menacing gesture.

"That is the problem Archie! She is not his girlfriend!" Albert responded, seriously worried for the tone the conversation was acquiring.

"What do you mean??" asked Archie angrily and Albert understood that he had to say the worst part of the news right then.

"Archie, Terri and Candy got married. Candyʼs now Mrs. Grandchester and when she comes back she will live with her husband in New York. Like it or not, youʼll have to accept it!" sentenced the older man energetically.

Archie stood speechless whilst Albertʼs decisive words sunk in his ears in a painful echo, clinking repeatedly, stabbing in his chest as a sword until his heart broke in a thousand pieces. He instinctively clenched his fists and he clearly felt how his jaws stuck with each other preventing him from uttering a single word. Before Albert could do or say anything, the young man ran away on a rage, slamming the door behind him. Albert knew that in such a moment a man needs some privacy to shed those tears that pride does not allow to show in public, hence he simply let his nephew go away, hoping that a good loneliness doses could help him to overcome the first shock.

The young man ran along the luxurious halls and corridors, until he reached his chamber. Once he had made sure that he was really alone he fell on his knees crying silently.

"What have you done Candy, my darling?!" he cried reproachfully. "You, sweet girl, so sensitive and caring when others are concerned but always heartless towards my love for you? Why are you so blind to my passion? Why do you insist on hurting me this way over and over?" he said between bitter sobs as his mind sought into his memories, "Iʼve loved you for so long! Since our childhood! And thereʼs always been someone else! Always someone else! I accepted your decision when you first chose Anthony, because I loved you both so much. I acted gentlemanly despite my youth and hid the love confession that burned in my lips . . . And then . . . our dear Anthony died leaving all of us in sorrow . . . and I thought that it would be better to let you ease your pains on your mothersʼ arms. I naïvely believed that later on, when our hearts had been healed from that hurtful loss, you would finally honor me with your love. But that man from Hell had to appear, just to bring you more suffering, over and over, and I did not have the heart to deny when you asked me to take care of Annie . . . What was I thinking then?"

The young man stood up slowly and walked to the desk next to the window. There was a small wooden coffer that he opened with lazy gesture, taking out one of the many letters he had collected in the past year. He breathed again their perfume and the wheels of his regrets went on in his mind.

"The rose has a sweet fragrance," he thought, the tears still rolling over his cheeks, "but also thorns to stab a manʼs heart And now, my delectable rose, you have just given the fatal thrust to my poor soul, giving yourself to that despicable bastard who never knew how to appreciate your value!!! In the past, when I realized that he had lost you, I could stand the burden of not being loved by you, my sweet one, because I knew that nobody had your love, but I was just selfishly fooling myself," he thought in grief and his hands loosened the letter while a couple of amber eyes encountered their own reflection on a large mirror. "You never looked at me!" he lamented loudly, looking at his handsome features. "Never a look to this man that other women would have liked to be loved by. But on the contrary, all this time you had kept on loving him!! He had his chances once, and lost them all, he doesnʼt own the right to have you back! He, who I believed even more miserable than myself, because he didnʼt have the joy of your close friendship . . . he, who ended up being the fortunate possessor of your most tender affections . . . and most intimate caresses!!!! If you only had chosen someone else, this pain would be less hurtful!!! Why he, of all men in this world, Candy? He, who I despise for hurting you in the past!!! He, who will be the object of my hatred from this day and on. He, who will plague my nightmares as I imagine him enjoying the flavor of your kisses, which I will never taste!!" he yelled aloud at the same time his fist broke the mirror in front of him, "Oh Candy my Candy!!! What curse have you cast on me!!!" Archie cried not feeling the pain of his bleeding hand.

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The Germans were retreating, but for General Ludendorff not everything was lost. He knew that he had to resist in France the longest as possible. If he could maintain his positions along the border until the arrival of the winter that would give the German diplomats enough time and military pressure to negotiate a more convenient armistice. If they couldnʼt win the war, they had to do their best to obtain less damaging peace conditions, at least. So his plan was to retreat slowly and not all at once, trying to preserve positions with less elements. Foch understood his enemyʼs intentions and decided that he had to stop the German mobilization forcing them to surrender before they escaped, so that they paid with a greater humiliation and more profitable results for the Allies. War can be, after all, a great business for those who win. In 1919 the time to bargain would come and each side wanted to be in the best position as possible.

During the months of September, October and November, the Allies organized their last offensive, the one that would lead them to the final victory. It would be divided in three main fronts. One in Flanders, in the Northern border with Belgium, the other one over Cambrai and Saint Quentin and the last one over Meziéres and Sedan. The idea was to take control of the railway that the Germans used to transport their troops, military equipment and supplies. The first point that Foch decided to attack was Saint Mihiel, a city a few miles to the South of Verdun. The American Army was designated for such a mission.

By September 1918, the Americans had already organized their headquarters in Vesle and the 1st American Army was then assigned to attack the salient of Saint Mihiel and reduce it so that the Allies could have free communication through the railway lines, from Paris to the region of Lorraine. The Americansʼ objective was to take Saint Mihiel and continue towards the ArgonneForest, a few miles to the North. The second division was included in this mission.

Therefore, the night of September 11th Terrence Grandchester was again sitting down inside the firing trench awaiting for his turn to enter in action. At 1 am of September 12th, the battle began with an intense artillery attack that lasted for several hours. The infantry, meanwhile, waited in silence between the trenchesʼ dark walls. Just the autumn wind and the cannonsʼ blast could be heard, melted with a strong powder odor that invaded the atmosphere. A young man next to Terrence was sitting down, holding his Browning machinegun with nervous fingers as he shivered in fear with every new detonation. It was the first time that he would see action and Terrence could not blame him for being scared. The young actor rested his hands on his young companionʼs shoulder trying to ease his fears.

"All this is damn scary," commented Grandchester, "yet, you have to control yourself if you want to survive."

"How can you be so calm?" wondered the young man looking at the phlegmatic sergeant.

"Iʼm as afraid as you are, Matthew," Grandchester replied with a smirk, "but I do my best to focus on my objective. If I want to achieve my goal, then I have to concentrate."

"And what goal is that?" inquired the young man.

"I have to live, Matthew," the sergeant replied with a strange flare crossing his eyes for a brief second, "Thereʼs someone who counts on that. Hence, when we face the enemy I will center all of my might to preserve my life and do my duty. Thereʼs no room for other thoughts or feelings in that moment. Just concentrate on the one and only reason that keeps you alive. Focus your mind on that thought and maintain your five senses on the fight."

"And what if I just canʼt do it?" demanded the young man.

"Then trust in your motherʼs prayers, Matthew, ʽcause I donʼt think God will hear any prayer coming from a sinner like you," joked the sergeant giving the young man a soft push that ended up easing a bit the young manʼs strain.

At 5 a.m. the infantry went out of the trenches. Then again, Terrence had to live the always horrifying view of men killing each other and once more he had to stain his hands with blood. He knew that he could not erase those stains, that they would remain on his skin even if he washed them away over and over and they would always trouble his conscience and be part of his nightmares. However, he had one argument that sustained him during those hours: he had to live, and if he had to kill to preserve his life, he was going to do it. For the first time in his life, he knew his existence had a clear aim.

The battle lasted almost 24 hours, but fortunately, the Germans did not resist as decisively as they were expected to. On September 13th the salient had been taken and a few hours later the American forces were substituted by French elements. The American First Army continued its way towards the ArgonneForest, where a complete month of painful struggle was waiting for them.

On his way to the North, Terrence looked through the trainʼs window at the same time he caressed a crucifix in his hands. He saw the ever green pinesʼ foliage contrasting with the golden landscape, evidence of the coming fall, and his mind immediately brought him the sweet memory of his wifeʼs eyes. He sighed quietly, thanking God that she was away and safe. In the correspondence he had maintained with Albert in the previous months, the young millionaire had trusted him that he had made arrangements to maintain Candy away from the Front. However, Terrence wouldnʼt have been so happy if he had known what was about to happen in Paris.

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​

Rumors can turn into dangerous traps that soon or later end up capturing the desired prey. While Candy worked diligently during her long turns and dreamed of the man she loved in her free time, praying steadily as she had never done before, someone else was busy spreading a venomous mixture of lies and real facts, which easily found echo in those mouths that enjoyed gossip. After all, it is not difficult to reach the dark facet within human hearts. One has just to scratch a bit to reveal human weaknesses. In the long run, they can be very useful to achieve certain aims.

Candice White Audrey had been sent to the Front in Ypres and then to Cambrai the previous year, returning to Paris in December, just a few days after Colonel Vouillard -back then Major Vouillard – had been designated as the hospital director. Since then, five different groups of medical personnel had been sent to different areas along the Western Front, but Audrey had never been appointed again, despite the fact that she got the experience and the training needed.

When Audrey arrived at the hospital after her time in the Front, she had been sick with influenza for a couple of weeks and even when Vouillard supposedly did not know her, he had been so interested in her recovery that had paid her a visit a couple of times. Vouillardʼs interest could be taken as a simple gesture of politeness and courtesy towards a war heroine from one of the allied countries. Yet, was that all?

Flammy Hamilton, who had always been distant and cold with all the personnel she commanded, had suddenly changed her attitude regarding Candice Audrey as soon as they both came back to Paris. Some would think that Hamiltonʼs changes obeyed to the fact that Audrey had practically saved her life. However, such transformation happened exactly by the time Vouillard arrived to the Saint Jacques. Coincidence?

Doctor Bonnot had openly courted Candice Audrey for over a year but she had never shown any interest. Why would a young and single woman reject the attentions of a man with such a promissory future as Bonnot was, not to mention his good looks? Was there a secret love she could not confess that didnʼt allow her to requite Bonnotʼs affections.

During the summer, the patients on ward A-12 had practically mutinied in order to have Audrey as their nurse. Vouillard had simply arranged the problem sending the nurse back to the mentioned ward. Some people thought that this measure had been rather weak and not quite the military style. A more strict solution would have been to transfer the nurse to other hospital as a lesson for the rebel patients. Nevertheless, Vouillard preferred to keep Audrey in Saint Jacques hospital.

Finally, in recent days, Audrey had disappeared for a whole night and even arrived late to her turn the following morning. Nevertheless, Hamilton did not do anything to punish Audreyʼs fault. Wasnʼt all this really weird, especially when Flammy Hamilton was always such a strict boss.

Nancy Thorndike knew the reasons for all these strange events. She had worked organizing the Hospital archives during a month and in her task she had found Candyʼs files, coming across very interesting information. That way she learnt that the young blonde was part of a very rich family that had connections with high military leaders in the French Army. She read Fochʼs letters to Major Legarde, Major La Salle and Colonel Vouillard giving strict orders to keep Audrey in the rear. That explained La Salle mysterious dismissal, being the one who sent Audrey to Ypres, and Vouillardʼs interest in maintaining Candy away from the Front Line.

Nancy tied the loose ends and seeing the whole picture, she understood that the events could be easily misinterpreted. After that, it only took her a couple of informal conversations with some of her colleagues that had reputation as expert gossipers to spread the idea that Erick Vouillard had an affair with Candice Audrey and for that reason he was trying to protect his lover keeping her away from the field hospitals. Flammy Hamilton was surely aware of the romance and consequently, she had changed her attitude towards Audrey when Vouillard had been appointed as the hospital director. On the other hand, Bonnot could not be a rival for the Colonel, who despite being a middle age married man, could offer a lot more to his mistress than Bonnot could ever give to a woman as his wife. The little blond American, was not that pure and naïve after all.

The rumor was spread rapidly and within a week it reached Vouillardʼs ears. He, of course, was deeply offended and worried because of his wife. When younger, Vouillard had not been a saint, as most soldiers, and Madame Vouillard had responded to her husbandʼs unfaithfulness with very harsh resentments, thus their marriage had been close to total failure and definitive separation. Fortunately, time, love and a good dose of forgiveness had saved the Vouillards from an eminent divorce and in the previous five years they had been rebuilding each otherʼs trust not without a great deal of effort.

Understandably, Vouillard was afraid that the scandal about his supposed affair with the American nurse could be heard by his wife, ruining again their still weak relationship. Vouillard also feared that his professional reputation could be damaged by the gossip, especially when he was being related with a young lady whose family had connections with Marshal Foch. So, Vouillard decided to do something to silent the malicious hearsay at once.

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​

Candy was alone in her dormitory. With gentle hands she folded the linen white dress that Miss Pony and Sister Lyn had sent her as a birthday present, in order to keep it in the box. She had told herself after washing and starching it carefully, that she would never wear it again. After all, it had been her wedding dress and she was not going to put it on to go out for a simple walk in the park, but preserve it as a keepsake of the day she had sworn eternal love to the man in her life.

She caressed lightly the fine white organdy that ornamented the bodice and the tiny buttons in the shape of pearls, not able to avoid the memory of Terriʼs hands as he undid them with nervous fingers. The young woman felt how the blush covered her rosy cheeks, but this time she enjoyed the warm sensation as she recalled her husbandʼs caresses on her. She closed her eyes and felt again his kisses, hearing his loving words in her ears. Closing the box she lied on the bed, abandoning her mind to her sweetest and most intimate memories. She searched with her right hand the emerald ring that she kept hanging to her neck with a silver chain, always hidden beneath her uniform, and crushed it with tender gesture.

Just the day before Candy had received Terrenceʼs letters and each word he had written was pulsing along her veins at every second, all day and night long. She closed her eyes trying to repeat to herself those sentences she already knew by heart, playing a sort of secret dialogue.

However, now I wake up and think about "us" and amaze myself with this wonderful feeling that some people called hope.

"Oh Terri!" she sighed, "hope is what fills my heart now . . . thinking that I may be expecting a child, your child."

I read and read again your loving words and imagine your beloved eyes, my angel. How I long to see my image reflected on those green mirrors.

"Just as much as I long to see your eyes and feel your warm arms around me."

Thinking of you is a joy that heals my soul and gives me strength to go on . .

"I feel the same, love, but knowing that you are now in the middle of a new battle has me restless and worried!" she suddenly remembered with darkened spirit.

Iʼm in Godʼs hands and Iʼm sure that he will preserve my life to make you happy.

"Oh Terri!" she said loudly, but as she heard the door opening she hurried to wipe the tears that were already covering her cheeks.

In that moment Flammy entered the room with her glasses in one of her hands as she also wiped her tearful eyes with a flawlessly white handkerchief.

"Flammy!" exclaimed Candy, surprised by her friendʼs tears just as much as by her unexpected arrival at that time of the day when she was supposed to be on duty.

"Candy!" was all that Flammy could say before she threw herself into her friendʼs arms.

The young blonde hugged the brunette tenderly while she tried to ease her troubled heart with reassuring words. They stood there holding each other for a while until Flammy felt that all her tears had found a way out. Then, both women sat down on Candyʼs bed as the blonde held her friendʼs hands.

"Would you like to share with me what is in here?" asked Candy touching her chest with one of her hands. "Or would you rather just stay with me for a while, in silence?"

"Candy . . . I," mumbled Flammy hesitantly, " I think it would be fine to talk," she ended, wondering how much of her sorrows she could trust.

The young brunette brushed away one of the dark strands that were bothering her forehead and then she got out of her pocket a torn envelope that she showed to her friend.

"This letter is from Yves," Flammy explained downheartedly.

"I didnʼt know he wrote to you," commented Candy a little confused.

"He didnʼt, Candy…How could he?" the brunette answered despondently, "He wrote to Julienne, but she gave me the letter for me to read it."

Candy raised her eyes from the envelope, addressing to her friend a questioning look. All of a sudden a long series of incidents, isolated words, gestures, and reactions in Flammy finally made sense and Candy could read into her friends watery dark eyes as she would have done with an open book.

"Flammy . . . you . . . love him! " murmured the blonde still unbelieving what the brown irises had already confessed.

"No, no, no!" Flammy hurried to deny, still reluctant to give away her intimate feelings, "I…I am just . . . worried….I" she stuttered not able to find a logic explanation.

"If it is not so, why were you crying? And why are you stammering? That is not the Flammy I know," riposted Candy.

"Just because you are so in love with Terrence, should everybody be in love with someone?" argued Flammy as a last resource.

"Come on Flammy, you said you wanted to talk. It would help a bit if you really be honest with me. . . . What can you lose?" asked Candy in her sweetest tone, and despite Flammyʼs mistrust, the brunette finally yielded to her friendʼs charisma. She inwardly told herself that, since Candy had already married Grandchester, it didnʼt make any sense to hide her feelings from her friend.

"All right," Flammy said at last deviating her eyes and clutching her handkerchief nervously, " You, were right, Candy . . . I . . . I am . . . in love with him."

"Why didnʼt you tell me about your feelings before!" Candy demanded confused.

"Because you would have stepped back," replied Flammy as a new tear rolled over her cheek, "I didnʼt want that. I donʼt want to be chosen because of other womanʼs charity. Thatʼs not my style . . . call it pride, if you want . . . besides, I was not sure if you could end up loving him . . . that would have made him very happy. . . How could I have interfered then . . .?"

"Oh Flammy! You kept quiet all this time and I was so blind that I didnʼt notice it!" Candy regretted, "What a poor friend I make!" she added reproaching herself.

"No . . . no, Candy. Donʼt blame yourself that way," responded Flammy with a sad smile full of understanding, "How could you see my silent troubles when you had your own turmoil to care for?"

"Flammy, what a true friend you are!" said Candy deeply touched as she hugged her friend.

Both women remained in silence for a while, hugging each other and feeling how the invisible loop that united them became even stronger.

"But now itʼs been enough about me!" the blonde retorted with a smile, "You have to tell me why you were so sad… Is it something that Yves says in his letter?"

"Well yes," Flammy blurted with a profound sigh, "he was working in Arras, but now he has just been sent with the field hospital to follow the Fourth French Army. They are marching towards the South, Candy! That could be too dangerous, the Germans have very strong positions in that area! Iʼm afraid, Candy…I still remember how Dr. Duvall died!" cried Flammy silently, without sobbing, just clenching her fist and letting her tears roll.

"Donʼt think that way, Flammy," said Candy trying to be strong, even when her heart jumped inside her when she heard that the French Army was marching to the South. What had that been? A presentment? Trying to chase away her own fears, the blonde took her friends hands and with her most serene accent told her, " Yves will be fine, youʼll see. Just trust the Lord, and let Him protect our men in the Front. We must be strong now….See July!!! How brave she has been for almost four years!!!!"

"You are right!" accepted Flammy, "I donʼt even know why I feel this way when he does not even think of me! You girls are worried for your husbands . . . but me. . . he does not even write to me!" she commented sadly.

"But it might be a good time for you to start writing to him," Candy suggested with a cunning smile.

"Are you out of your mind, Candy?" responded Flammy shocked by her friendʼs suggestion, "I wouldnʼt know what to say . . . Plus . . . there is not a chance that he can like someone like me. . ."

"Flammy Hamilton!" scolded Candy, "Never, ever look at yourself so disrespectfully! You are a great woman and if Yves cannot see it, then he just does not deserve you! Yet…I think there is always a chance for those who dare to try!"

"I donʼt know, I wouldnʼt like to start dreaming just to be disappointed at the end of all my efforts!" argued Flammy defensively.

"What do you want Flammy?" wondered Candy energetically, with a frown on her delicate face " Do you want to wait until you get old just to find out that you regret the things you never dared to do? Nonsense!!!" exclaimed Candy standing up and placing her hands to both sides of her waist, "Did I ever ask you anything for getting you out of that trench?" the blonde questioned looking at her friend with commanding eyes.

"No…why do you say that?" asked Flammy confused.

"Well, now I am going to do it!" replied Candy smiling but still with that authoritative look in her green apples, " You are going to stay here and write that blessed letter while I finish your turn. And donʼt you dare to go out without writing it nicely. When youʼre done Iʼll post it myself!" she commanded while she went out of the room before Flammy could say a word.

The brunette stood up trying to follow her friend, but when she attempted to open the door she realized that Candy had locked it and taken the keys with her. Flammy sighed agitating her arms partly frustrated and partly mad at her friend.

"How do you dare stubborn little brat!" Flammy screamed, but she didnʼt obtain any answer.

She walked up and down the small room for a while, as her head debated with an army of arguments against Candyʼs idea. However, some minutes later, she sat down at the small desk that both girls shared, and taking a piece of blank paper, she began to write.

Once Flammyʼs nervous steps could not be heard anymore from the other side of the door, Candy left the corridor walking towards the ward where she was supposed to fill in for Flammy. In her way she felt again that jab in her chest.

"The South….the South of Arras. What battle is going to take place there?" she repeated in her mind, "I might just be becoming too apprehensive . . . Terri must be in Saint Mihiel, right now. The papers said that the Americans were fighting there!"

Candy didnʼt know that the previous morning the Battle of Saint Mihiel had ended and Terri was traveling to the North. However, the newspapers did not say anything about this mobilization because the Allies wanted to take the enemy by surprise.

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The evening of that very day, Colonel Vouillard called Flammy Hamilton to his office. As soon as she received her orders, the young brunette, who had been finally freed from her prison after having finished certain letter, went immediately to the Directorʼs office. Flammy didnʼt know then that she was about to receive a piece of news she wouldnʼt be able to understand at that moment.

"Miss Hamilton," commanded Vouillard once the routine formalities had been said, "On this document there is a list with the names of six nurses that I want to transfer to Saint Honoré Hospital. I want you to tell these ladies that Colonel Lamark will be expecting for their arrival tomorrow morning at 0700 hours. So they have to start packing right now."

Flammy took the paper that Vouillard was handing her and her eyes were immediately caught by a name on the list.

"Colonel Vouillard," the young woman dared to say, " There is a nurse in this list I would like to keep in my staff, with your permission, of course, Sir. She is very efficient."

"Iʼm afraid I wonʼt be able to change any of the names there, Miss Hamilton," Vouillard responded categorically while lighting a cigar.

"But, Sir. . . " objected Flammy

"Youʼve got your orders," was the simple answer given by the cold-eyed man. In that moment someone knocked at the door, "Come in," Vouillard called.

Nancy came in with a few large yellow envelopes in her hands.

"Here are the files of the nurses you want to transfer, Sir," reported the woman with nasally voice as she looked at Flammy haughtily.

"Fine," commented Vouillard without seeing anyone of the two women in the room, "Make sure that a messenger takes these files to Saint Honoré Hospital tomorrow morning. It is extremely important," he remarked turning to face the nurses.

Flammy was going to open her mouth again but Vouillardʼs words didnʼt let her do more.

"You both are dismissed, ladies," he commanded dryly.

When the two women had left, Vouillard sat on his chair sighing deeply as if he had relieved himself of a heavy load.

"This will be the end of those rumors," he thought, " and of all my worries about Miss Audrey and her important family. Now she will be someone elseʼs trouble. Anyway, the letters will keep her safe as his relatives want."

Vouillard would have felt really worried if he had known that Nancy had destroyed Fochʼs letters.

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​

The morning of September 14th Candy left SaintJacquesHospital not without feeling deeply sad for leaving her two best friends, Flammy and Julienne, behind. However, she made her best to look cheerful and positive as she said her farewells. After all, she was going to be working in the same city, and they could always see each other from time to time. Before she jumped on the truck that would take her to the new Hospital, she made sure to post Flammyʼs letter.

While she was still doing it, a small figure came out of the hospital rushing towards Candy with all the strength that a woman of old age can do it.

"Mademoiselle, Mademoiselle!" called an old lady that Candy immediately recognized as one of the cleaning ladies, "I have to ask you a question before you leave," the woman said in her little English.

"Yes, Madame?" the blonde responded smiling.

"I must know who won the match," the old woman asked with mischievous eyes.

"Beg you pardon? The match?" wondered Candy confused frowning lightly.

"Je veux dire . . .(I mean)" the woman hesitated trying to find the words, "Who won, the handsome American or the sweet doctor?" the lady demanded giggling.

"I see!" exclaimed Candy finally understanding the question and very amused with the old ladyʼs curiosity. She paused for a second, leaned closer to the woman and whispered in her ear, "The American did!"

"Good!" the woman said with a bright expression on her wrinkled face, " I liked him best!"

Candy laughed at the ladyʼs comment and then she responded,"So did I!"

A minute later, the young woman got on the truck, crossed herself and with one of her more dazzling smiles she waved her hand to the old lady on the sidewalk and the two faces that were looking at her through one of the windows, until the truck disappeared in the morning mist.

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The First American Army didnʼt arrive in Argonne immediately. The Americans mobilized slowly, trying to make the enemy believe that they would attack another point. The Germans were too secure about their positions in Argonne because they have turned the forest into an impregnable fortress stationing their men all over the mountainous area, covering the woods with mines and transforming every small village around into a resistance redoubt. To advance through the forest would be extremely difficult, especially under the fire that the Germans, from their high posts in the abrupt hills and mountains, would make at will.

The Allies objective was to push the Germans as much as possible towards the North, so that they ended up behind the Mezière-Sedan railway line before the winterʼs arrival. That couldnʼt be done if they didnʼt reduce the enemyʼs forces in Argonne, first. The Fourth French Army, that was mobilizing from the North, was going to attack the left flank and get into the woods, while the Americans were supposed to attack the posts on the river Mosa, and meet the French Army in Grandpré and the northern side of the forest.

The Americans had more men per division but lacked of certain qualified personnel and military equipment. So, before the attack started on September the 26th, a group of artillery operators, tanks and medical personnel from the French Army arrived to support the Americans.

A couple of days before the fight began Terrence Grandchester used his leave to visit Matthew Anderson in the field-hospital. The young man had been injured on a leg during Saint Mihiel battle, but since there had not been any opportunity to send the wounded to the rear, Matthew was still with the troop, in the hospital, of course.

"Youʼve got a visitor, private Anderson," said a male nurse that was trying to wash a basin stained with blood near Matthewʼs bed.

"Hi there, Matthew," greeted a deep voice and Matthew identified his visitor immediately. "I can see that you are receiving a first class treatment around here . . . Comfortable bed, nice environment, and beautiful nurses to look after you," Terrence chuckled while the man washing the basin made him an obscene signal as a response for his comment on the so called beautiful nurse.

"I wouldnʼt put it in those terms, exactly," replied Matthew with a smirk, "but Iʼve heard that Iʼll be sent to Paris as soon as possible. The doctor told me that they will have to operate on my leg a second time…after that it is possible that they send me back home," he concluded as he tried to changed position on the folding bed he was lying.

"I am glad to hear that," said Terri, but inwardly he told himself that such a decision could only respond to the fact that Matthewʼs leg had no chances to be saved, "So youʼll spend some great days in the worldʼs most beautiful city. That sounds tempting," the young sergeant went on trying to cheer the young private up.

"You already had that chance sergeant," answered Matthew with a slight spark on his light green eyes, "and it seems that it did a lot of good to you, if you allow me to say it, Sir," the young man suggested cunningly.

"It certainly did," a third voice hurried to say behind Terrenceʼs back, and the sergeant felt a stinging sensation running along his spine, moving primitive defenses inside him. However, using his skills to cover his emotions, he turned slowly and with a studied smile he responded to the voice.

"What a coincidence to find you here, Dr. Bonnot," Terri said calmly, as his mind considered how he should act in such a situation, when he knew well that Bonnnot could not be considered his rival any longer. That mere thought was enough to make him quit playing defensively. Yves Bonnot, was not a bad person after all. "Well, Matthew, you can be sure you are in good hands," Terri said at last, turning to see the young private, "this man here is the one who saved my life."

Yves was surprised to hear Terrenceʼs conciliatory tone, but still he didnʼt lower his guard.

"I was just doing my duty, sergeant," answered Yves with a simple nod, "Now, if you excuse me gentlemen, I have work to do," the young doctor said as he hurried to leave the place, visibly upset by the unexpected encounter.

"I guess someone was not that happy to see you, Sir," said Mathew bluntly.

"I wouldnʼt pay much attention to this moody frog eaters," joked Terri trying to minimize the situation and changing the subject immediately, "but we were talking about Paris . . . "

The two young men continued their conversation but deep inside Terrence couldnʼt forget about Bonnot. Hours later, during his time on guard duty he meditated a little bit more on the matter.

How should he feel and react towards the man who not long before had been his rival? If he was honest with himself he had to admit that Bonnot was a good man and Terri himself was certainly the last man on Earth that could reproach the French doctor for having fallen in love with Candy.

"I guess I cannot stop other men from desiring my Candy," he told himself, chuckling softly, "If I wanted that nobody looked at my wife, I should have fallen for an ugly and unkind female instead of the angel God gave to me.

Moreover, it isnʼt the first time that I feel this distrust. I clearly remember how it was with Archibald back in our teenage years. . . .and I guess it wonʼt be the last time either. When a man has a jewel, many others can envy him. Itʼs part of human nature. Yet, the jewel will be mine as long as I take care of her tenderly. On the other hand, Bonnot deserves my understanding and sympathy instead of my contempt. If Candy had chosen him instead of me I would have been the most miserable man in the world by this time . . . He must feel that way. I know how it feels because I have been in the same dark hole before."

Terri was not wrong. Yves was going through a very obscure depressing period during those days and coming across Grandchester was one of the worst things that could have happened to him. At least, that was what Yves believed in that moment. The heart wounds were still very fresh in the young physician and the lightest touch made them bleed again with even more hurtful results.

"What happened between Candy and Grandchester?" Yves had asked himself several times during the previous weeks, " Did they confess their mutual feelings? Or was he so stupid to let her go? After all he didnʼt have much time either. He went out of the hospital the same day I left Paris," and so Yves went over and over the same considerations, always ending with an awful headache and promising himself that he was going to get over that hopeless love, yet coming back to the same point every single evening. But then, after seeing Terrence that afternoon, Yves began to torture himself with a new trouble. "If they didnʼt make up . . . should I talk to him? . . . should I keep quiet as Candy wanted? . . . Is this encounter a coincidence? . . . . or is it fate?. . . . If so, would I have the courage to do what I must. . . ?"

However, God was not asking Yves to reach to such extremes of sacrifice. The following morning, after a whole night of insomnia, the young doctor found part of his answers that relieved him from the unpleasant responsibility of playing the match maker between Grandchester and the woman Yves was still in love with.

The young man was walking along the camp, with the hands buried on his coatʼs pockets, trying to ease the increasing chill of that autumn morning, when he accidentally saw a well known figure in the distance. It was Grandchester who had finished his guard. Still fighting with his conscience, Yves suddenly found himself walking on the same direction. He couldnʼt reach the other man until the young sergeant was entering to the tent he shared with other men.

When Yves came into the tent Terrence was already taking off his coat and uniform, determined to have some hours of steady sleep after the exhausting nocturnal guard.

"Grandchester!" the young doctor called and Terrence immediately turned to face him at the same time he threw his shirt over the folding bed.

It was then when Yves saw a shining object over the sergeantʼs athletic shirt.

He immediately recognized the pendant that he had seen hanging on Candyʼs gracious neck several times. She once had told him the story of the crucifix and how meaningful it was for her. That was all what Yves needed to understand the situation. Terrence Grandchester had not lost time, after all.

"Bonnot?" asked Terri stunned by Yvesʼ sudden appearance, but soon his eyes realized that the young doctor was looking fixedly at the crucifix over his chest. He didnʼt need any further explanation when Yves simply went out of the tent without saying a single word. Everything had been said by a small token of a ladyʼs love.

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​

The young doctor spent the rest of the day in the darkest of the moods. That evening at Colonel Vouillardʼs Gala he had understood that his chances with the American nurse were all lost, and it had been painful, but fully realizing that his rival had finally won the lady, was a new thrust that ended devastating what was left of his already broken heart. Yves poured then all his sorrow into his work, though it was not enough to ease his troubled soul. That day the whole camp and the field hospital mobilized towards the River Mosa in a stratagem that the Germans didnʼt expect.

The morning of September the 26th at 5:30 am, the First American Army attacked the German positions along the River Mosa with great success. Bonnot requested to be sent to the front line with the first aid team. The young man had never seen a battle before but that day he learned what it meant in all its appalling extent. He felt his skin quiver with the cannonsʼ blast and witnessed the apocalyptic view of men flying in the air when an unfortunate soldier found a mine on his way. Nothing could be more frustrating for the young doctor than seeing how his desperate efforts to save lives were always too slow and too limited compared to the overwhelming speed displayed by human weapons. Death is a dramatic certainty we all have to face, but the legalized murder that war authorizes goes beyond that natural truth.

Yves, moved to the core by the impressive view of warʼs cruelty and bleeding internally by a womanʼs rejection, worked day and night, only king scarce moments of rest forced by his superiors. In the beginning he thought that facing the crude scenes in the battle field would make him forget about his personal pain, but each human tragedy has a place in a manʼs heart and even when he knew that others had greater sorrows to deal with in the middle of that chaos, that didnʼt erase his own. More than once he desired to be in the place of each man dying in his impotent arms.

During those days of growing confusion and constant disgrace Terrence observed from the distance how Yves plunged himself into his own despair and the young actor believed that he could see himself in a mirror while the doctor risked his life, as if he were seeking its end. The sergeant felt in debt with Yves and made up his mind to protect him from himself, as much as he could. Perhaps the best way to accomplish such task would be if he could get a bit closer to the French physician and since Yves was not going to become his pal without some help, Terrence tried to do the first move.

"Donʼt you ever take a rest?" asked the sergeant one day that he had helped the nurses to take some wounded men from the firing line to the field hospital.

"What for?" was Yves acrid response.

"For staying alive, at least," Terrence replied.

"Maybe we value life too much. Have you ever thought about that?" riposted the young doctor annoyed with Terrenceʼs insistence.

"More than you think, Bonnot," Terri answered in such a serious way that made Yves looked at him directly to the eyes, "Listen, I know that you are really busy now, but Iʼd like to talk to you when you have some time free. This is, if you ever allow yourself to take a break."

"And what could we talk about?" wondered Yves with a hint of irony in his voice.

"Has it ever occurred to you, that sometimes people talk to each other just to have a good time and because they want to be friendly? And believe me, Bonnot, in the middle of this war, making friends is something we can appreciate once we are out there, with a German machine gun shooting behind your back," the blue-eyed man replied with a frank smile that Yves hadnʼt seen in all the time the had known Grandchester, "We could talk….about the weather, if you want," he last said before he left Yves, wondering what had happened to Grandchester that was turning so unexpectedly nice.

The Germans retreated about 4 miles along the river and the Americans attempted to enter into the woods of Argonne, yet the enemy was really strong in that area. The Allies only got to advance a little more than a mile into the forest and had to stop the attack on September the 30th. The troops rested for a few days while the military leaders planned the strategy again. There was no other way, General Pershing decided, the Americans had to open a way through the German Third Defensive line no matter how dangerous it was or how many lives it cost. The attack restarted on October the 4th and would last long and painful four weeks in which the casualties among the Americans would increase at an amazing speed as days went by.

One of those evenings in which Terrence was on leave, the young man had searched for a lonely place where he could write at ease helped by a kerosene lamp. He had already written the sixtieth letter to his wife and kept it with all the others he hadnʼt been able to send yet. Then, he got another sheet of blank paper and continued writing something else as the images of his companions dying in the battlefield flooded his mind.

Every minute of horror lived in the firing line was clearly engraved in his memory. The vision of the river Mosa stained by the blood of many men, the lifeless bodies floating on the water surface, the mutilated members, the agony and above all, the faces of those men he had killed to preserve his own life, were so tormenting that the only way out to save his mind from insanity was to write all down in the form of dialogues, hoping that one day others could hear the words he wrote in that moment and reflect on our human miseries. The world had to know the cruel truth behind the "glorious victory" and he felt it was his duty to give an account of all that.

"You still have that habit," said Yvesʼ voice interrupting Terriʼs task while he sat down next to the sergeant.

"You mean writing?" replied the young man looking at the gray eyes lightened by the kerosene lamp. He hadnʼt talked to the physician in weeks and he was kind of surprised that Yves had decided to approach him.

"Yes, I saw you writing lots of times back in Paris," the doctor commented casually, "Do you have so many letters to send?"

"Well, not really," Terri admitted shrinking his shoulders, " I donʼt write letters only."

"Itʼs funny, Grandchester," replied Yves with an ironic chuckle.

"Whatʼs funny?" asked the sergeant intrigued.

"That you were my patient for months and I never asked you about your profession. What do you do for a living? Are you a journalist or a writer?"

"I see," smiled Terri understanding Yvesʼ comment, " Iʼm an actor," he responded simply.

"What?" wondered Yves surprised, "You mean that you perform on a stage and wear costumes and make up?"

"Yes, thatʼs right. I do those weird things," Terri accepted chuckling, "but I wouldnʼt imagine my life doing something not related with the theatre, and believe me, people think Iʼm good at it," he said raising one eyebrow.

"If you say it . . ." was all that Yves could reply.

"But I also enjoy writing," Terri went on as he kept the pages he had just scratched on his leather file.

"And what do you write about?" asked Yves nonchalantly.

"Right now I have several stories to tell," Terri explained feeling that the evening chill began to reach his bones, "for instance, a young private whose life I couldnʼt save this morning, my Captain who used to be a man who enjoyed a good conversation but has become quieter and dull during this month, how a man trusted me the last letter he wrote to his children before a German shell exploded in front of him, and a young doctor who seems to be desperately searching his own death every time I get to see him in action," the sergeant said, emphasizing the last sentence with all intention.

Yves turned to see the blue iridescent eyes with resented look. " It's easy to judge when youʼve got that crucifix hanging on your neck," the French doctor blurted bitterly.

"How could I judge a man who is suffering the same kind of pain I have known many times in my own life?" responded Terrence sincerely, "You take me wrong, Bonnot."

"Perhaps, but what I can see now is that my existence has turned into a dark fall and I cannot stop it," avowed the young doctor with shaking voice as he deviated his eyes to avoid Terriʼs penetrating look.

"Searching your own death so irresponsibly will never be the answer," retorted the sergeant.

"Since when you named yourself as my adviser?" responded Yves defensively.

"Bonnot, I am not qualified to be anybodyʼs counselor," replied Terri standing up, "but not too long ago I was in the same acrid depression, and believe me, mine was cruelly harsh because I had endured it for years, filling my heart with remorse and auto recrimination. I wished death just as much as you are wishing it; however, now I thank God he didnʼt give me what I begged for. A man who is a lot wiser than I will ever be, taught me then that nothing is written on the pages of our personal stories until we dare to jot down our own fate, and as long as we live, there is hope to write a better page next time. Donʼt deny yourself that opportunity. Good night, doctor," he last said taking the lamp with him and disappearing in the darkness. Yves was left alone with his own thoughts.

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The evening of October the 29th Candy was looking at the insistent rain falling over the large tent where she was standing, when she felt an unusual uneasiness in her heart that made her touch the ring she had hanging on her neck, beneath the white uniform.

"God, God!" she murmured, "Protect him this evening! Please, donʼt forsake us now, Lord! I donʼt think I could ever overcome the loss if he died now!"

The autumn shower kept bathing the muddy ground and she could see in the distance a soldier running along the camp.

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The offensive in Argonne forest had not been easy at all for either one of the two Allied armies. However, after long days of bloody fight, the Germans began to retreat, still reluctant to leave their positions in the woods. By October the 29th almost every redoubt had been taken, but there were still some posts where a few men were resisting, constantly firing from their high positions on the hills. That evening the routine attack had stopped for a while and the men behind the improvised barricades were observing with mistrust the darkenedhorizon among the woods. Just a few minutes before two of them had been sent to look for some drinking water to a nearby stream.

"I said it was really stupid," commented one of the privates, "we could have hold it without drinking any water."

"Perhaps," answered a second one, "but the doctor needs it for the wounded," he concluded pointing to the young physician who was working frenziedly behind them.

"Yes, but we could have also waited for the men who went to the rear to get the supplies," argued the first private, "When the sergeant comes back he is not going to like the idea."

"Maybe Richmond and Whitman come back before," was the last thing the second private could say before a couple of shadows moving in the darkness caught his attention, "There they . . ." but the private could not finish the sentence because a sudden explosion followed by a rain of shots coming from a hill at the East interrupted him.

"For Christʼs sake!" the first private gasped with paled face, "There was a mine on the way!"

When the first charge stopped the soldiers behind the barricade could hear the cries of one of the two men, just a few meters away. The young doctor had left the wounded men to see what had happened just to discover that Whitman had died in the explosion and the voice of an agonizing Richmond could be heard from the distance.

"Someone has to go out there and bring that man back to the barricade," the doctor said with desperate tone.

"Are you mad, doc?" asked the second private turning to see the gray-eyed man, "Richmond is as dead as Whitman. There is no way he can resist for long out there, and if anyone of us goes out right now it will be another dead man as well. There could be other mines!"

"If you donʼt go then Iʼll do it," burst the young doctor taking a first aid kid with him.

"Sir," blurted the first private holding the young manʼs arm, "We can afford to lose a man but not a doctor. We all need you alive."

"Perhaps, but I wonʼt go on living with that manʼs desperate cries in my conscience," and with this last sentence the young physician climbed on the ladder to go out of the barricade. Being a superior the privates couldnʼt do anything to stop him.

Outside, the night was again silent and freezing. Only Richmondʼs weak cries could be heard in the distance. The young man adjusted his eyes to the darkness and after some seconds he could spot the man lying on the ground a few yards from him. He had to hurry up if he wanted to save the man. Trying to move covered by the shadows he ran praying inwardly not to find another mine on his way. Unfortunately, when he was almost getting to his target the clouds moved away and the moon lightened the clearing on which he was standing.

The men behind the barricade froze when they realized that the Germans would be able to discover the young doctor easily.

"What the heck is happening?" asked an angry voice from behind the privates and they immediately reacted standing up to salute their superior.

"Sergeant Grandchester!" gasped the first private afraid of the young manʼs ire.

"The French doctor, Sir," explained the second man, "he is out there trying to save Richmond."

"And what was Richmond doing out of the barricade?" demanded the sergeant with furious eyes.

"He…he went to get some water for the wounded, Sir,"

"Great! And now that air-headed frenchy is risking his life again! The Germans are going to see him with that moon light!" said the young sergeant as his eyes saw how a projectile fell from the heights but without the usual detonation. It was not a grenade!

"Damn!!! Those bastard threw a mustard bomb!!!" cried one male nurse who was also witnessing the scene.

"Everybody put on the masks!!!" ordered Grandchester and all the men behind the barricade covered their faces at once.

"What are you doing, Sir,?" asked one of the privates seeing that the young sergeant took an extra mask and began to climb the same ladder that the French doctor had used to get outside the barricade.

"Iʼm going for the frog eater, what else? Heʼs surely blinded by the gas, and if he stays under its effects he will be a dead man in a few minutes," said the man with muffled voice under the mask.

"Let me go with you!" offered the private repented for having let the young doctor go alone.

"Itʼs enough with two idiots out there. You stay here and if we donʼt come back just post the letters I have in my bag and explain to the lady whose name appears as the addresser that I did my best to keep my life, but there are duties a man cannot neglect," he explained before he reached the top of the barricade and jumped out of its protection.

He had to move fast while the gas still prevented the Germans from distinguishing any figure in the darkness. As he advanced towards the clearing he thought about the promises he had made to his wife. What he was doing in that moment was certainly not very sensible, but Terri felt that he owed Bonnot a good one for saving his life in the surgery room and that was the chance to pay such debt.

When he finally could see a blurb silhouette in the distance the young man rushed to the doctor who was kneeling near Richmondʼs dead body. Terri reached Yves and touched his shoulder with nervous move. With the unexpected touch the doctor turned his face, his eyes wandering in the nothingness. Terri understood then that Yves was not seeing anymore.

"Itʼs me, Grandchester!" whispered Terri, "Put on this mask immediately!" the sergeant urged.

"Why did you come here, you stupid man??!!" reproached the doctor feeling dizzy by the gas.

"Oh you just shut up and put on the mask before the gas screw your lungs!" Terri said, practically forcing Yves to wear the mask.

"Leave me here, and save yourself while thereʼs still time! Leave me here!!!" shouted the young man but he couldnʼt say anything else because a firm fist punched his temples making him faint.

"Sorry frenchy," said Terri carrying the young doctorʼs unconscious body, "but I think your conversation will be very annoying in this trip you and I are going to do together!"

The man started to walk back to the barricade but little by little the gas began to disappear leaving the figure exposed to the moonlight. It was then when the Germans machine guns filled the air with their mortal roar once more.

"Here we go again," Terri thought as he clearly felt an itching pain on his right arm, "If your talisman really works, my love, this is the time for it to do something about this silly frenchy and me, Candy," the young man kept on saying to himself as he finally got to the barricade. The seconds seemed like centuries as the men in the other side of the barricade opened fire to cover their sergeant who was approaching with the unconscious doctor on his back.

"Help me with him!" Terri cried and one of the nurses popped out the barricade and took Yves with him. The Germans continued shooting from their post on the hill and then a new explosion blasted in the clearing. It was another mine that had been activated by the Germansʼ fire. Terri turned to see where the explosion had been and he realized then he had walked very close to that spot.

"Get in, Sir! Do it now!" screamed one private scared with the new detonation.

Terri climbed slowly feeling an increasing pain in his arm but he finally reached the top while more bullets shot around him. However, a second after, he was already safe at the other side of the barricade, paled as a paper sheet, with the heart pumping at an amazing speed and with a new wound on the right arm which was beginning to bleed profusely.

"I thought you werenʼt going to make it, Sir," said one of the nurses, amazed at the young sergeantʼs courage while he cleaned Terriʼs wound.

"So did I, pal, so did I," was all that Terri could say while he closed his eyes and thanked God for preserving his life.

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Dark, everything he could see was dark. The noises of the camp were clear, though. He could identify the voices and the cries of the field hospital. He felt the old and rough blankets of the folding bed where he was lying with his fingertips and also sensed an acute pain on his left thigh as he tried to move.

The sounds were easy to descry, but he could not see. He took his hand to his temples and felt the bandage that covered his eyes.

"So you finally woke up, doc," greeted a deep voice that Yves knew well, "I thought that you would dream for ever!" the voice kept on saying jokingly.

"Grandchester?" Yves wondered turning his face in the direction where the voice was coming from.

"Who else?" responded the voice, "Sorry to disappoint you, but your are right itʼs just the same annoying me."

"How did I get here?" asked the young man confused.

"Well, technically you were brought here by the nurses from the front line where you and I had a very interesting tour last night. And now we are both here enjoying of a fascinating holiday. Even though I have to confess I really prefer the service you guys give in Paris. Compared to that I find the service here. . .kind of. . . .unsatisfactory….shall I say?" explained the young man with the same mocking tone.

The memories began to make sense in Yvesʼ mind as the suddenly talkative sergeant continued his explanation complaining about the male nurses in the camp. Yves remembered his frustration when he saw Richmond breathing his last and then perceived the gas explosion some feet away from his position. It only took a few seconds for him to go blind and he believed in that moment that his life had finally got to its end. He wouldnʼt be able to find his way to the barricade before the gas started to damage his lungs, later on the Germanʼs fire would certainly do the rest. For a moment he thought that he had found the best way to end his painful existence, yet he couldnʼt avoid to feel awfully afraid, as he had never been before. The young man saw his dearest memories displaying inside his mind. He remembered his childhood, the faces of his brothers and sisters and his motherʼs voice, the joy he felt when he helped his first patient and the beauty of the sunset over Nice, the place where he often spent his summer holidays when little. Should he walk back to the barricade in a last attempt to save his own life? No, it was too late for him. It was in that moment when he felt Terrenceʼs hand on his shoulder.

"You saved my life!" he screamed in realization interrupting Terriʼs monologue.

"Well, I wouldnʼt put it in such dramatic terms," Terrence replied casually, "letʼs say that I just helped God a little to give you another chance to correct your foolish attitude."

"Why did you do that? Why did you risk your life for a man who was seeking his own death, when you have such a promissory future?" asked Yves not able to understand Terriʼs action.

"I already told you that once," the young aristocrat responded with a more serious tone, "God gave me a new chance to write a better story with my life, and I thought it was my duty to help someone else who also needed to learn the same lesson . . . Besides, you saved my life back in Paris. Iʼll never forget that."

"Thank you," Yves mumbled deeply moved.

"Letʼs not get sappy about this," chuckled Terrence and seeing that the doctor was trying to touch the wound on his left thigh he explained, "In case your are worrying for your health, let me tell you that we both were very lucky considering the trouble you got us into. The bullets just grazed your leg and my arm. Nothing that some rest cannot remedy and as for your eyes, you were exposed to the gas for very little time. The doctor told me this morning that youʼll surely be able to see again, with the due care. Yet, I have to complain about something!"

"What?" asked Yves intrigued.

"Iʼll have to quit writing for a while, either wait for my arm to get well or learn to write with my left hand, whatever happens first!"

"I wish I could help you, but I donʼt think I could," commented Yves giving a hint of a smile for the first time in the previous two months.

"Never mind, my friend," he said as he told himself, "Not that I was going to dictate to you a letter for Candy . . . that I wouldnʼt do with anybody on this earth."

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Candy adapted to the new Hospital very easily. Her always cheerful mood and kind soul won her the sympathy of her new coworkers and patients and pretty soon, she was again sharing the light she had in her heart with every man a woman around her. Unfortunately, she did not have much time to get too comfortable in the place. Only six days had passed since her arrival when she received orders to travel to the Front Line in Flanders, as part of the field hospital personnel.

She didnʼt have good memories of the last time she had worked in Flanders but she knew well that beyond her internal aversions she had a duty to accomplish. That was what Mary Jane had taught her and she was not going to let her old teacher down. So, she simply packed her usually light baggage and before her departure, she went to Saint Jacques to see Flammy and Julienne.

The young woman had decided to keep in secret that she had been sent to the Front again. She didnʼt want to give Terri something new to worry about, so the young woman asked her friends in Saint Jacques to receive her correspondence and send in return a series of letters she had written in advance so that all her relatives and friends in America, as well as Terrence didnʼt know where she really was. It was better if nobody knew the truth. At least, that was what she thought.

At the beginning Flammy didnʼt like the idea at all because it implied to cooperate in a sort of lie, which contradicted the brunetteʼs strict morals. However, Julienne agreed with Candy because she had done the same every time she had been sent to the Front during the four years the war had lasted. Her husband Gérard had never known that she had been working in the field hospital in several occasions. Thus, Julienne convinced Flammy and both women promised to help Candy with her plan. The blonde also gave instructions to her friends to read Terriʼs letters on her behalf and if they brought any important news that Candy should know, the women in Paris would send her a telegram at once.

"Iʼm not going to read your husbandʼs letters!" complained Flammy feeling embarrassed with the mere thought of reading someone elseʼs correspondence.

"And how do you imagine I could ever know if he is doing fine or not? I have to know!" Candy replied starting to get desperate with her friendʼs excessive correctness.

"We could send you the letters to the field-hospital," suggested Flammy.

"That would take too long, Flammy," was Julienneʼs remark, "Donʼt worry Candy, Iʼll do that for you if Flammy here gets too uncomfortable with the idea. Is that right for both of you?" the older brunette asked and both girls nodded, accepting the idea.

"I will send the telegram, then," Flammy volunteered.

"Thanks, to both of you," Candy smiled at her friends realizing that the time for the last farewells had come, "Well, I guess this is it. I have to go."

The two brunettes looked at the little blonde and they couldnʼt avoid feeling a lump in their throats realizing that she would be working close to the firing line, once more. Candy read the worry drawn on her friendsʼ faces and forced herself to show more optimism.

"Come on girls," she giggled, "One could say that you are attending my funeral. This mission wonʼt last long. It might take more time for me to arrive to Flanders than for the Germans finally surrender."

"You have to promise us that you will take care of yourself, Candy," Julienne said, hugging Candy tenderly, "I will be doing what you told me that time when you left us in the truck, while you went out in the snow to look for help."

"What did I tell you to do then?" asked Candy confused.

"Pray, just pray," Julienne replied as one tear rolled over her cheek.

"Oh, Julie," the blonde whispered sweetly, "everything is going to be fine.Youʼll see," and then, turning to Flammy, Candy said authoritatively, "and you girl, as soon as Yves replies make sure you write him back at once."

"You, silly, always ordering around," complained the brunette trying to hold her tears while Candy hugged her as well.

"Look whoʼs talking," Candy laughed and after a few minutes more she left Saint Jacques, leaving behind two friends that would be praying for her day and night.

Before her departure Candy also paid a last visit to Father Graubner and he, despite his being a priest, did not have any conscience problems as Flammy, to promise Candy not to say a word to Terrence through letters. All on the contrary, he thought it was a good idea because he knew how apprehensive Terri could be, especially when it concerned to Candy. The young woman and the priest spent a few minutes in Bishop Benoitʼs chapel saying a silent prayer and once they had finished, Graubner blessed Candy with a last smile and let her go. That was a chilly morning of September the 20th. The trip through the damaged railway line was slow and had to be interrupted several times because of all the occasions in which members of the French and British Army stopped the train to verify the passengers and their luggage. One landscape followed the other at an impassive rhythm while Candy realized with great disillusionment that she wasnʼt pregnant as she hoped. In spite of her initial disappointment, when she finally arrived to the rainy region of Flanders, she realized that it was not the best moment to be expecting a baby, no matter how much she desired the child. As the first time, the view in the field hospital was discouraging and the job to do was endless. Nevertheless, the young woman raised her head, fastened her apron and with her usual bravery she did her work diligently. Even if she wasnʼt pregnant, she understood that deep inside her she had a flame burning and the hope of a better future was waiting for her. Thus she kept on praying and during her leaves she started a diary, hoping that one day her husband could read what really happened to her during those days of silence, in which she decided to lie for the sake of Terriʼs calm.

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My dearest Terri,

Rain and mud is all what I have seen of Flanders in the two occasions I have been here. This time though, the conditions in the field hospital do not astonish me anymore. I do my job the way Iʼve been taught and try to help my patients to recover physically and emotionally. This last thing, however, is the most difficult task to do, not only because all of these men are enduring very harsh moments, but also because a constant fear chases me day and night and I have to pretend nothing is happening if I want to cheer up these poor soldiers.

I know that you must be fighting in Argonne in this moment. Iʼve heard terrible stories about the things that are happening there and the newspapers say too little that can appease my heart. In these moments I understand that I have to recognize my limitations and accept that only God can protect you. But to leave my worries for you on the Lordʼs shoulders is not easy for this woman, for every single cell of me cries your name and the sole idea that I could lose you hurts to the core.

Today a young French private died in my arms after a surgery. I fought the fever with all of my might but still the young man passed away. His last words were for his mother and in the moment he died he believed in his delirium that I was her. He hugged me tightly while the final death rattle seized him, he called me "maman" and then expired. As I tried to prepare his body to be sent back home, I couldnʼt hold the tears thinking about the poor woman that once gave her most precious treasure for the sake of France and will only have a dull coffin with the French flag in return. Then, no matter how hard I tried to avoid such ideas, I thought about you and about us. I saw you dying in someone elseʼs arms as this poor young man, perhaps calling my name as you once did in Paris, when you were having a high fever as well. And these sort of thoughts haunt me even in my dreams which lately have turned into nightmares. I wake up in the middle of the night and then do the one thing that can bring me peace in these days, pray and write on this diary as I am doing now.

I pray and thank God that you donʼt know where I am at the present. I hope that you can forgive me for lying to you during these days. I am sure that you are undergoing far more dangerous situations than I am, and so you need to concentrate thoroughly on what you are doing. I wouldnʼt forgive myself if you got hurt because you were worried about me. Until we see each other again it is enough with one of us having nightmares . . . . Loving you has never hurt as much as now.

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One evening gave birth to another day and so the calendar kept on becoming and thinner, just as the Germans became weaker. Ludendorff demitted by the end of October and was substituted by General Wilhelm Goener, whose main mission was to promote the armistice. During those days, Terrence and Yves were wounded and after spending a week in the in field hospital, the French doctor was sent back to Paris for his recovery and Terrence to a smaller hospital in Buzuncy, a city a few miles to the North of Argonne that had been recently taken by the Americans. Ignoring with the mind, but not with the heart, what had happened with Terrence, Candy was sent to work in Arras, after Flanders was completely taken by the Allies, event which finished the offensive in that area.

On November the 11th the Central Powers and the Allies would sign the armistice and the hostilities ceased in the Western Front.

 

[domniki]

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

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Whatever future may bring.

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Part I

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Farewells and turning points

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The train had arrived at the station and the whole scene appeared busy and chaotic. Men were downloading military equipment, medical personnel were taking the wounded on dirty stretchers, and supplies were scattered all over the floor. Confusion, screams and annoyance were seen in many faces. A group of young soldiers with bandages on their eyes and lousy uniforms walked on a line, one behind the other, among the boxes with munitions and brand new machineguns. Each man had his right arm on his companionʼs shoulder as a way to guide his steps on the way to the train. One man who had not been blinded by the mustard gas was conducting the group along the platform.

Yves could not see the view but he could sense the atmosphere of boredom and expectation that reigned in the air. A couple of male nurses had helped him to board the train and he was already installed on one of the seats, waiting for the trainʼs departure. With his fingertips he felt the window glass and thought that it was ironic to be sitting next to it, when he would not be able to see the landscape and the weather was already too cold for him to enjoy the breeze with the window opened. The trip to Paris would be long and annoying, especially with his wounded leg and his impossibility to read on the way.

"Yves," called Terriʼs voice behind him and the young doctor turned his face to the same direction the voice had come, "I thought I wouldnʼt make it," the actor gasped, breathing heavily as though he had been running.

"I didnʼt know you would miss me so much!" Yves joked hearing Terriʼs words.

"You wish, frenchy," retorted the other young man with a smirk, "I just came up to here as a favor."

"So nice from you," Yves replied still kidding, "What is it?"

"The mail just arrived and there is a letter for you. Apparently it traveled to different destinations before it finally got here." Terri explained putting the missive in the young doctorʼs hands.

"Who is it from?" asked the man curious and a little frustrated for not being able to read the letter by himself.

"You wonʼt believe it," chuckled Terri amused, "I didnʼt know you two were so close!"

"What do you mean? Come on Grandchester, just tell me who the letter is from."

Terri put a hand on the seat and leaning his body whispered to Yvesʼ eyes with mischievous tone.

"A lady!" he said playfully.

"Who? Just tell me and stop playing like a stupid kid!" asked Yves losing his last remain of patience.

"Miss Frowning Face, herself. Who would say it!" Terri cachinnated very amused.

"Miss Frowning Face?"

"Also known as nurse Hamilton, my dear friend," explained Terri giving free rein to his laughter.

"Flammy?" asked Yves stunned, "Really?"

"Certainly. If you want I can read it aloud for you. But I will not be responsible if the content is too personal!"

"Could you just stop that, Grandchester?!" Yves demanded upset, "My goodness, you can be a real pain when you want it! And no thanks, I will find the way to read it later!"

"O.K., O.K., not a single word about the matter," Terri replied still smiling but getting a bit more serious, "Thatʼs the way you correspond my favor. After all that long distance that I ran just for you to have your letter. But donʼt worry, Iʼm used to your ungrateful manners."

"Thanks for that, then," responded Yves, relaxing a little.

Terri thought in that moment that it was amazing the way the tensions between the two of them had been softened after the dreadful experience they had lived together and the days they both had shared in the field hospital. The young aristocrat was glad that the resentments seemed to have disappeared and even though they were not each otherʼs best friends they could finally say that their mutual mistrust had vanished. The train jerked forward a little and the railway employee cried that they were about to leave. The time to say the final farewells had arrived.

"Well, I think this is it," Terri said simply, "I wish you the best, Bonnot."

"So do I," Yves replied with a friendly tone, "And again . . . thank you . . . for all what you did for me," the young man said with a little difficulty.

"Do not mention it," Terry told Yves seriously, "If things had been different we could have been the best friends, but Iʼm glad we got to minimize our difference. I hope you can find the right woman. You really deserve that," the aristocrat concluded sincerely.

"Thanks," the doctor responded, "and you take good care of Candy."

"I will," Terri replied shaking the left hand the young doctor was offering to him, knowing that the actor could not use his right hand, "Goodbye, Yves Bonnot."

"Goodbye, Terrence Grandchester," Yves last said before Terri left him alone in the wagon.

The young man felt how the train began to move. Then, he heard how someone moving with crutches sat down next to him mumbling a shy hello with a southerner accent.

"Good afternoon," Yves said to the man that would be his trip companion, "My name is Bonnot," he introduced himself kindly.

"Gordon, Jeremy Gordon, from New Orleans," responded the man with husky voice.

The two men started a casual conversation as the train advanced, leaving behind the improvised station and entered into the woods. After a while, Yves tore the envelope that he still had in his hands and talking to Gordon he asked:

"You know, Mr. Gordon," he told his companion, "I have a letter from a friend of mine here, but as you can obviously see, itʼs impossible for me to read it. Would you mind doing it for me?"

"Sure, man," the soldier replied and taking the letter in his callous hands he began to read:

"Dear Yves . . . "

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Hats in different styles, gloves, skirts, petticoats, shoes, white handkerchiefs, dresses, lace umbrellas, and a thousand feminine gadgets were all spread around the chamber. The two women worked diligently trying to pack every single item as fast as possible, but despite their effort more and more pieces of clothes kept appearing out of the blue. Patty had been in Illinois for over a year and during that time she had succumbed on a great deal of occasions to Annieʼs shopping rush.

"You really should get this hat, Patty," Annie would say, "You simply look dreamy with it!"

Patty usually yielded to her female weaknesses and ended up following Annieʼs advice. But then she was paying the price for her little sins as she had to decide what she was taking with her on the trip to Florida and what she was leaving in Annieʼs house. After all, there was no use in taking everything with her when she was planning to return to Illinois after the holidays.

Mr. and Mrs. OʼBrien had decided that their daughter had been away for too long a time and since it was November they were expecting that Patty returned to Florida to spend Christmas with them. In the beginning Mr. OʼBrien had thought of going to Chicago to escort his daughter in her trip back, but his mother had convinced him that it was better if he left that mission in her hands. In that way he wouldnʼt neglect his business and she would have the chance to amuse herself and visit Pattyʼs friends in Chicago. Mr. OʼBrien didnʼt suspect that Patty and her grandmother Martha had already planned that trip several months in advance.

When Tom had asked Patty to be his wife, the young woman immediately wrote to Mrs. Martha OʼBrien telling her the news. The old lady felt very excited and happy for her granddaughterʼs plans, but also understood that, unlike her first relationship, this time Patty would not have her parentsʼ approval due to Tomʼs origins. Therefore, the old lady wrote back to Patty warning her about the problems that she and her fiancé would surely face as soon as the OʼBriens found out about Pattyʼs engagement with a farmer.

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Both women decided then that it would be wiser to wait until Pattyʼs twenty first birthday, in the beginning of November, so that even if Mr. and Mrs. OʼBrien didnʼt want to accept Tom in their family, they would not have any legal rights to stop Patty and Tomʼs plans.

Thus, Martha traveled to Chicago and later to Lakewood to meet Tom and prepare the last details of their plan. Tom would travel with both ladies in order to meet Pattyʼs parents and formally ask her hand in marriage. If the OʼBriens didnʼt want to accept, then Patty and Tom would simply get married without their approval. Martha was willing to support her granddaughter even against her own sonʼs desires.

"My family ruined my life by forcing me to marry a man I didnʼt love," the old lady said to Patty while she helped her to fold a beautiful woolen dress they were going to pack, "I never made a decision on my own. First, my parents decided what I was going to wear, how I was going to behave, what was good for me to learn, and what people I should meet. Later, it was my husband who led my life, and so I lost my youth and my dreams. I couldnʼt even give my opinion about my own sonʼs education. His father chose the school where he studied, the profession he was going to have and the woman he was going to marry. One day I suddenly realized that my son had become a cold, frivolous and snobbish man I didnʼt recognize as my little boy. He was a complete stranger. And when they sent you to the Academy I thought that they were going to do with you exactly the same."

"But fortunately I met someone there," Patty commented smiling openly, as she looked at a photo she had in her hands.

"Yes, I know my dear," replied Martha smiling back, "It never ceases to amaze me how you changed since you met Candy! And as time goes by, you grow more and more mature and self confident."

"I will never be a war heroine," Patty giggled as she showed her grandmother the photo where Candy appeared with three soldiers in the field hospital, "but I know now that it is not a sin to stand up and tell the world that I can think by myself and decide my own destiny."

"Thatʼs the spirit you have to keep, my dear," the old woman exclaimed with a cheerful gesture, "I just want to see your fatherʼs face when he realizes that you are not a little baby he can handle at his will. Too bad that your grandfather is no longer with us to see his expression as well. By Saint George, it would have been such a funny view!"

"GRANNY!! Donʼt swear!!" scolded the young women giggling, but later with a more serious tone she added, "You see all as if it were just a joke, but I must confess Iʼm a little scared. I know that Mom and Dad will be so upset that I might not see them again after I get married."

"It might happen, dear," Martha avowed with a sigh. "Letʼs hope that they end up understanding your feelings someday, but if it doesnʼt happen, with a husband like Tom and with all your friends by your side, I donʼt think you will ever feel lonely," the woman said gaily.

"I know it, Granny. But tell me, will you accept Tomʼs offer and move to the farm with us?" Patty asked enthusiastically.

"Iʼm still thinking about it," the old lady responded with a cunning look in her still bright eyes, "I have other offers, you know."

"What sort of offers, Granny?" asked Patty intrigued by the mischievous look in her grandmotherʼs face.

"Well, I donʼt want to jinx it, but…." Martha said reticently.

"Do tell, granny!"

"All right, all right!" the woman confessed, "I asked Miss Pony if they would like to have a new partner to help them in the orphanage. They do such a great job that it would be wonderful if more children could be accepted. But they need another hand and some of my ideas to transform Ponyʼs Home in a larger institution."

"Oh, Granny! You scare me when you have that look in your eyes!" Patty said stunned.

"You too could help! Young blood and energies will be needed in this project! Now, where is that blue coat that you said you wanted to take with you?" the woman asked trying to find the coat in the mess they have around.

"Itʼs in Annieʼs room. Would you please bring it Granny?"

"Great, and I will ask the butler to bring us some tea and biscuits!" the old lady suggested giggling.

"They call them cookies, here in America, remember. Oh Granny, all what you want is a chance to flirt with the butler!" retorted the young woman.

"Doesnʼt he have a cute smile?" Martha commented but Patty didnʼt have time to keep on scolding her naughty grandmother because she was already outside the room trying to find the Brightonsʼ butler.

Patty sighed in resignation as she continued her task packing her stockings. She only needed to be alone for a brief instant to start thinking of Tom. The things they had said to each other the last time they had been together, the feeling of her hands in his and the kiss they had shared were still so fresh in her memory that her heart started to beat faster as she closed her eyes and smiled.

"Whatʼs the weather like in dreaming land?" asked Annie who had got into the room when she realized that Patty was too lost in her dreams to answer to her knocking at the door.

"Ummm? You said?" responded Patty surprised by Annieʼs presence.

"I said that it is time to come back from your reveries.. . I have news from France!" the young lady said brandishing a pink envelope.

"My goodness!!!! What does she say??? Come on Annie, open it!" Patty urged her friend.

The young brunette obeyed her friendʼs demands and with nervous fingers she tore the envelope to get the letter inside it.

September 20th,

Dearest Annie,

I hope that everything goes fine for you and all your family when this letter gets to your hands. If you ask about me, I must tell that I have never been better. If I ever believed I had known happiness, now I recognize that I was wrong. I had no idea what it meant until a few days ago. . . .

As Annie continued to read, both girls opened their eyes in astonishment, gasping and exchanging stunned glances with each line. So far, Candy had not trusted anybody but Albert, Miss Pony and Sister Lyn that Terri was in France and that he had been hospitalized during three months in the same place she was working. So, that letter telling the whole tale took both women by surprise.

"I just canʼt believe this story!" exclaimed Patty when Annie finished reading for the third time, "Isnʼt it amazing?. . . I mean, they found each other there. . . Do you have the slightest idea of how many possibilities they had to meet there? It must be destiny!!!" the girl gasped serving herself some water to appease her astonishment.

"I understand, Patty," Annie answered with a melancholic tone, "I guess their love was simply meant to be. I am happy for her."

"Why do you sound so sad, then?" asked Patty noticing her friendʼs grieving tone.

Annie stood up and walked to the window while her honey eyes followed the fall of the dead leaves from a nearby ash tree.

"Donʼt you see it Patty?" the girl finally said after a long silence. "For years I was so blind with my love for Archie and my selfishness that I didnʼt know how to be a friend for you and Candy."

"What are you saying, Annie? I think we have already discussed this issue before. Why donʼt you just understand that you have always been a wonderful friend for me and Candy?" Patty retorted.

"Do you honestly think that, Patty?" asked Annie turning to face Patty and the latter could see that her friendʼs face was already bathed in tears. "If I was such a good friend, how is it that I didnʼt realize that Candy was just pretending to be strong and happy for the last three years?"

"Annie, what are you getting at?" wondered Patty, frowning.

"This letter, Patty!" the brunette cried letting the papers fall to the floor, "Candy sounds so joyful and happy in these lines as if she hadnʼt been for so long, and I, her best friend, havenʼt noticed how much she was suffering for being away and apart from Terri! I thought she was over that impossible love! And there she is! She married him! This means she loved him in silence, suffered and cried in silence for three years and I was never there to support her! This is the best friend I am!" the young woman burst clutching the curtains with trembling hands, her face depicting her frustration and disappointment.

"Annie! Donʼt blame yourself that bitterly. It was not only you who was fooled by Candyʼs force. I didnʼt have any idea of her feelings either," said Patty standing up and approaching her friend.

"No, Patty, there is no comparison between you and I," the girl stated gloomily. "You went through such difficult times that nobody can blame you for not being able to stand by Candy when she needed it. But I . . ." she couldnʼt finish the sentence because her sobs didnʼt allow her to utter more words.

"Annie," was all Patty could say limiting herself to hug her friend.

Annie clung to Pattyʼs arms and shed her regretful tears for a while. Her mind flew back to her childhood. She saw herself writing the last letter she sent to Candy when they were six years old. She knew well that those lines were going to hurt her dear friend to the core, but little Annie didnʼt have the courage neither to confront her foster mother nor to keep in touch with Candy in a clandestine way.

"Me….It has always been about me!" Annie thought ashamed, "I have always been so busy trying to keep myself well and safe that I have rarely thought about others!!!"

All of a sudden Annie felt that her soul reached the bottom of a dark tunnel where she had been wandering for the previous three months, since Archie had broken with her. She thought that it couldnʼt been possible to live in a worse situation than the one she was enduring. She saw around and found out that more than Archieʼs rejection what hurt the most was that she hated herself. She raised her interior eyes and saw the long gap that separated her from the light at the other side of the tunnel. Annie sighed wondering if she could ever find the courage to undertake the endless journey to find the way out of her own fears trap.

"Patty," Annie whispered parting from her friends arms, "thank you for your understanding. . . I . . . I appreciate your support."

"Not at all, Annie. Thatʼs what friends are for." Patty replied with a frank sympathy reflecting in her dark brown eyes, but unable to help her friend in that personal battle. By her own experience Patty knew that the only person able to save Annie, was Annie herself.

=======

​

It has been again a busy night in the hospital. Candy had been working in the evening shift and was about to finish the bandage of a patient that had asked her to leave it a little bit looser. The man, in his late twenties, had just made up that excuse to have the young womanʼs attention for some extra minutes. Candy knew it, but just pretended to ignore it, so used she was to her patientsʼ continuous flirting.

"When you are the first woman they see after weeks or months of being buried in a trench, do not expect to be treated as their grandmother," she used to think, but still she always felt a bit embarrassed with the masculine attentions.

"Do you have a boyfriend, Miss Audrey?" asked the man with a teasing glance while Candy thought how she should answer to such question, knowing that her marriage was supposed to be kept in secret.

"Yes, I do, Mr. McGregor," was Candyʼs final reply.

"And where is that lucky man, may I ask?" the man insisted with a smirk.

Candy lifted her eyes from the bandage and looked at the man proudly.

"Heʼs in the Front, serving in the American Army," she responded.

"And is he missed?" McGregor questioned, "because I could volunteer to comfort you while he is away, Miss Audrey."

"Yes, I miss him with all my heart. And thanks for offering help, Mr. McGregor, but no thanks. Though, you should ask God that nobody is making the same offer to your wife back in England," Candy scolded the man and she was going to say more to stop the soldierʼs bold moves, but a voice crying in the corridor interrupted her.

"Itʼs over!!! Itʼs over!!!" shouted a young British doctor that entered into the ward impetuously.

"Are you crazy, Dr. Cameron?" Candy retorted, "Itʼs still very early and many patients are sleeping. Do you want to interrupt their sleep?"

"God heavens, Miss Audrey, everybody has to wake up right now!" the man explained breathless. "Itʼs over, the war is over! They just signed the armistice two hours ago. It has just been said on the radio!"

"Are you serious doctor?" asked McGregor in disbelief.

"Positively. I have never been more serious in all my life!" the physician answered and soon the whole ward was up, screaming and laughing in joy.

Candy left the patients and went out to the corridors. Everybody was there, celebrating, congratulating and hugging each other because the fight that had lasted for over four years had finally reached its end and so had the uncontrollable increase of human casualties along the French border.

Out of the blue some bottles of champagne had appeared and doctors, nurses and even some patients were already toasting, not able to hold their happiness with the same frank mirth as children enjoy Christmas morning.

"Weʼre going home, Miss Audrey! Home!" yelled one of the patients standing on his crutches, next to Candy.

"Back home!" Candy thought joyfully, "Oh Terri, weʼre going back home!"

========

​

The same day but at the other side of the Atlantic, the sun was already setting and Albert had just finished his daily ride. The young man was taking his horse to the stable with lazy steps when one of the stable men ran to him agitating his hat to the air. His words came out in a jumble that Albert couldnʼt understand until the man was almost in front of him.

"Holy Lord, Mr. Audrey!" the man gabbled. "The war has ended!"

"Are you sure?" Albert demanded grabbing the stable manʼs sleeve with energy.

"Yes, Sir. Does that mean that Miss Audrey will be back soon?" the man asked with interest, because all the servants in the house were loyal to the young heiress that had always been kind and nice with all of them.

"Absolutely yes!" Albert replied laughing, his blue eyes shining with the light of the evening star, while in his interior he thought, " My day is coming, then!"

========

​

In Paris the celebration didnʼt seem to have an end. The people had come out to the streets, the churches had been ringing their bells for hours and the wine ran freely into each mouth. In Saint Jacque Hospital Julienne cried while hugging Flammy with all her forces. Those patients that could walk were dancing and partying in the halls and corridors while screaming with all their lungs: "Back home! Back home!" over and over, each one on their native language.

Ironically, Flammy, who was still hugging her friend, could not identify with the general joy.

"Back home?" she wondered to herself, "What for?"

======

​

In the interior of his bedroom with the lights off and looking through the balcony as the rose garden lost its petals with the autumn breeze, Archie, who was spending a few days in the mansion of Lakewood, was listening to the news in the radio, which announced the armistice.

"The war is over," he thought melancholically, "but this event wonʼt bring me what I was expecting," he told himself lowering his eyes, not able to hold his tears. "All on the contrary, it will only mean that Iʼll have to face the painful experience of seeing her in my rivalʼs arms."

======

​

In Busunzy, that same night, a young man walking along the hospital corridors, looked at the moon behind the gray clouds in the sky and thought that it had never been as beautiful as that evening. The man brushed away a few brown strands that had already begun to grow and were bothering on his forehead, while he leaned his body on the wall. He took his left hand to his pocket extracting a pink envelope scented with a soft rose fragrance and kissed it tenderly.

"Weʼre going home, my love," Terri said trying to remember the taste of Candyʼs lips.

======

​

The days that followed Pattyʼs departure were especially lonely for Annie Brighton. She sunk into a sorrowful depression feeling that all her dearest interests had turned vain and useless. Alarmed by the young womanʼs insistence of staying in her room for long hours, her mother tried to force Annie to go out and even planned to organize a tea party but the young brunette pleaded her father to spare her from those activities, obtaining the good manʼs support. Mr. Brighton understood that her daughter was about to reach a turning point in her life and he thought it was better to give her some time to discover her own solutions for the problems she was facing.

The autumn leaves fell from the ash trees in the Brighton estate and Annie spent her evenings trying to ease her pains with the rustling noise of the dead leaves over the garden. She walked for long hours along the lake shore looking inside her heart, confronting those dark lines she didnʼt like in the portrait of her own soul and very often she compared herself to those dried leaves that the wind took away. They had grown lush, green and lustrous during the previous summer, but once the fall cold days had arrived, they flew aimlessly, towards an uncertain future, far, far away from the strong tree that used to protect them.

Candy had been her strengthening tree during all the summer of her childhood and adolescence, but when Annie had to face the cold slaps of life, the young woman had become just a dried and ugly leaf . She didnʼt like herself, and even if her reflection in the mirror was beautiful and young, she knew the interior did not correspond to her physical appearance. Annie recognized that the dazzling image of her childhood friend always paled in front of the beauty of her soul, because unlike her, Candy had not trusted in money to forge a life. That was what made Candy the strong and authentic woman she was. That was the reason that had made her so unforgettable in Terriʼs heart.

As the days went by and Annie continued with these reflections she slowly arrived to the conclusion that it was time for her to start changing those things that she didnʼt like in herself. Time to begin thinking about the others and not so much about herself. Time to turn her back on the idols she had adored in the past and start the journey that would take her to the reencounter with her real self.

One evening during those walks she stopped suddenly, looked around at the golden landscape and in that moment she decided that her day had come. She came back to her room and there, helped by the shy light of a candle, she wrote a letter to a woman she had never seen in her whole life, but who would be an important character in the chapter of her personal story, which Annie was about to begin.

=====

​

Annie clenched a piece of paper in her pocket. She knew that what she was about to do was not going to be easy at all, and she stood up in silence for a few seconds, right in front of her motherʼs bedroom door, still reluctant to knock. She lifted her face towards the ceiling and closing her eyelids she thought about Candy for the hundredths time that evening.

"I never imagined that this could be so difficult, Candy," she said to herself, "How have you managed all by yourself for so long? Oh Lord, help me to do this," she said in a whisper crossing herself and finally knocking at the door.

"Come in," called a feminine voice from inside of the bedroom.

Annie stepped into the delicately ornamented chamber and saw her mother sitting at her secretary desk wearing a silk blue robe that accentuated her white skin and golden hair.

"Annie, dear!" the woman called her daughter sweetly, "I thought you were playing the piano in the pink room," she commented casually.

"I was, mother, but . . ." the girl hesitated feeling that her fears began to seize her heart, "I needed to talk to you . . ."

"All right dear," replied the woman leaving the chair in front of her desk and sitting down on a couch nearby, "what is it that you have to tell me?"

 


"You see, Mom," Annie began sitting down next to her mother, "I have been thinking about starting to make new plans since. . . since I'm not getting married as we expected."

 


The older woman looked at her daughter with a smile of understanding in her still beautiful face.

 


"My darling!" Mrs. Brighton said. "This is exactly what I wanted to hear from you. Thereʼs been enough crying so far. I already have some great ideas for next season. . . We'll go to the opera, the theatre and to every gala and soiree. You must be seen everywhere. . ."

 


"Mom..." Annie interrupted Mrs. Brighton who was already getting carried away by her enthusiasm. "I have different plans," the young woman said shyly.

"Nonsense, Annie," the older woman replied emphatically, "I know what you have to do now. Itʼs necessary that everybody sees that you are not dying for that worthless man. All on the contrary, you have to be the most beautiful lady this spring, loved and admired by every man and target of every woman's envy. Just leave it to me."

Annie lowered her head crushing her hands one with the other while her mother talked. She plunged her sight on her delicate satin shoes ornamented with tiny violets and a gracious bow as though the courage to speak up were hidden somewhere on the shoesʼ lavender surface.

"Mother, I'm really sorry to disappoint you this time," the timid girl dared to say looking at her mother with saddened eyes, "but I don't plan to stay in Chicago. I think it's time for me to start doing more useful things than spending my evenings from party to party."

 


"Then, what do you plan to do instead?" asked Mrs. Brighton stunned with her daughter's reaction.

 


Annie got a paper out of her skirt's pocket and showed it to her mother with timid gesture. The woman read the newspaper article that her daughter had given to her and when she had finished it, she raised her eyes from the paper with a questioning look.

 


"I don't understand, Annie. What do you have to do with this woman in Italy," Mrs. Brighton asked confused.

 


"I'm interested in her work with mentally retarded children," the young woman stated beginning to feel how a warm sensation covered her cheeks, "I . . . I would like to go to Italy and study with her."

 


"But...what for?" asked Annie's mother not able to understand her daughter's intention.

 


"I want to learn how to work with them and later on come back to America to open a school, like the one she has in her country. Here, we treat those children as if they were not able to learn anything. But her work proves that they can make great headway," Annie explained and her voice turned suddenly vehement.

 


"You mean that you want to study in order to....work? You mean...have a...job!!??" asked Mrs. Brighton stupefied.

 


"Yes, mother. I don't think my life is of any use right now. . . other women are making a difference showing that they can..."

 


"I have heard that ridiculous speech before!" the lady stood up visibly upset by her daughter's words. "And it isnʼt other but Candice who has set those ideas in your head!! I always knew that her friendship was not going to be of any good for you!!! Here you are, speaking as a mad suffragette! Not my daughter, Annie...not a Brighton!" the woman blurted vehemently but still keeping her composure.

 


"Mother!" the young lady gasped not knowing what to respond.

"This discussion is over, Annie," Mrs. Brighton stated coolly. "Tomorrow weʼll see the dressmaker so that you can order your new wardrobe for the following spring. You have to find a husband this year, do you hear me?"

Up to that moment the young woman had remained quiet, sitting on the couch and crushing the newspaper article that her mother had thrown to the floor. Annie resented how her mother had so easily set the blame on Candy. All of a sudden, she realized that once again, life was forcing her to decide between following her best friendʼs example in order to become a woman that could feel proud of herself, or conforming with her motherʼs desires as she had always done in the past.

Annie loved her mother and felt the need to receive her approval for the new projects she wanted to make real. On the other had, she also feared the imminent confrontation with the opinionated woman her mother was. For a second, she thought that perhaps all those things she had planned were not that sensible after all. Maybe it was a better idea to obey her mother and forget about the changes she wanted to have in her life. Yet, the memory of Candy being humiliated in the Lokaʼs house that evening, when the blond girl saved her from Neil and Lizaʼs malicious mischief, carrying the blame stoically, came to Annieʼs mind.

She raised her raven head slowly as her honey eyes focused on her motherʼs elegant figure. In the watery depths of her pupils an increasing flare of determination began to shine with an unknown force.

"Mother, I love you and Dad with all my heart," she began to say calmly, "I have always obeyed you and followed your advice, but Iʼm afraid this time it wonʼt be possible for me to fulfill your expectations. My decision is already made and I wonʼt give up."

Mrs. Brighton turned to see her daughter directly to her eyes, still unbelieving the words that Annie had just uttered.

"What are you saying?" the older woman asked with hoarse voice.

"Iʼm saying that I have already made arrangements to study in Italy with Mrs. Montessori. I wrote to her and she has accepted to take me as her pupil next year. I will not look for a husband as you want because I feel Iʼm not ready for a new relationship yet. Right now I want to study, and if you believe that Candy has to do something with this decision of mine you are right, but itʼs not in the way you think."

"Of course! Who else could I blame!" cried Mrs. Brighton losing her control for the first time. "That immoral woman! Running away from school! Living alone in an apartment! Working as if she really needed the job! Going to a foreign country without her familyʼs approval! Risking her life and her familyʼs honor! And now she got married there, making the decision all on her own, without asking her tutorʼs permission! Only God knows if that man really married her! Perhaps she will end up dishonoring her family having a child without a father!"

"Thatʼs enough, mother!" Annie screamed, ire and indignation shining on her flushed face, "You say that Candy is immoral just because she has always followed her heart! She ran away from school because she was brave enough to realize that the education she was getting there was not useful for her! She lived alone in an apartment because she is independent and doesnʼt need her familyʼs money to survive! She has a job because she wants to help others! She went to France because she wanted to serve our country and if you condemn her because she got married making the decision by herself, it is because you are blind to real love! She is a wonderful woman whom I admire and has nothing to be ashamed! And as for my decisions, I have to recognize that Candy is the one who inspired me with her good example, but she does not have the slightest idea about my plans," Annie paused for a second, her hands were shaking and the tears were rolling on her cheeks, yet her expression was surprisingly secure, "If you are looking for someone to blame, then set the blame on yourself, mother!" she last said reproachfully.

"What do you mean?" asked Mrs. Brighton still shocked by Annieʼs unusual outburst.

"I mean that you gave me love, an education, everything that money could buy and I appreciate all that, but you never, never, helped me to find my own way! You made me believe that I could only be worthy marrying a rich man, that my success would be my husbandʼs success, that the whole sense of my life was supposed to be defined by a man, and not by myself! You made me turned my back on the best friend God gave me! You made me lie about my origin as if it had been a sin to be born poor and without parents! I had always been weak and you didnʼt teach me to conquer it and be strong! When Archie broke with me, you told me that you had always known that he didnʼt love me truly…Then why didnʼt you make me face the reality? You say that Candy is immoral, but we are not any better, living always on a lie!"

"Ungrateful brat!" Mrs. Brighton shouted raising her hand to slap her daughter but she was stopped in the air by a stronger hand.

"Donʼt do something you will regret later!" said Mr. Brighton who had come into the room alarmed by his wifeʼs angry voice, but had not been noticed by the two women who were too overwhelmed by the load of the words they were saying to each other.

"You have no idea of the things Annie has just told me!" the woman complained in tears.

"If you are referring to Annieʼs plans, I already know everything," Mr. Brighton answered collectedly.

"You knew!!! You knew and you didnʼt say a word!" retorted Annieʼs mother in disbelief.

"I thought this was a matter that Annie had to do by herself," the man pointed out releasing his wifeʼs hand.

"But you should have told her that this whole idea of Italy is not a sensible plan," Mrs. Brighton still insisted.

"All on the contrary, darling, I will be the first one to support her!"

"But. . . ." the woman stuttered feeling that her whole world began to fall apart.

"Annie, dear," Mr. Brighton addressed his daughter with sweet tone, "Would you please excuse your mother and I? We need to talk in private for a while."

"Yes Dad," the young woman nodded walking silently to the entrance, but before she closed the door behind her, she looked at her motherʼs tearful eyes. "Forgive me mother, forgive me, but I canʼt give up this dream now. Itʼs the only thing of my own that I really have," she last said, leaving her parents alone.

As Annie Brighton walked along the hall, she still sensed the acrid flavor of the argument she had with her mother, but with every new step she gave, her heart felt lighter and freer. She raised her head knowing that the time to spread her wings had come.

=====

​

After the victories of Argonne and Flandes it was only a matter of time for the German diplomats to understand that they couldnʼt wait any longer to sign the armistice. When the hostilities ceased on November 11th the Allies were advancing towards Montmédy on the French border and during the rest of the month the troops only waited for their orders to enter into German territory.

Even though the war had practically ended, the Allied Armies had not finished their work. The triumphant troops would have to occupy the defeated countries and even the volunteered personnel had to stay in the old continent until the Allies had settle down their headquarters in Germany, Turkey and the North of Africa. However, life had other things in store for Terrence Grandchester.

When the armistice was signed on November 11, Terri had been staying in Buzuncy for a week, recovering from the wound on his arm. Two days after the historical event, he received a letter with the United States seal in which the government of his country congratulated him for the courage demonstrated by his actions in battle and notified him that he had been discharged from the U.S.A. Army. The letter also included a series of ship and train tickets for his return to America.

The young man held the papers in his hand astonished by the news, still not able to digest that the whole nightmare had ended and he was free to go on with his life. All of a sudden he realized that he had to start making a long series of decisions that concerned his immediate future and take actions as soon as possible. Thus he carelessly took his right arm from the sling and putting it away started writing the texts for several telegrams that he planned to send at once.

After a couple of days, Terri arrived in Paris expecting to meet Candy in Saint Jacques Hospital. He knew that the chances to find her there were not many since the war had ended. She could have been sent back to America or to any other area in France before her return, because medical aid was still needed all around the country. Nevertheless, he was hoping to see her again, even if it only could be for a few hours before his departure to England.

As the carriage which took him along the Parisian streets advanced on its way, he felt that his heart speed up with the perspective of having Candy in his arms once more. He tried to think of the words he could say but ended up laughing at himself, knowing perfectly well that in such moments words never come out the way we planned and most of the times they are not enough to express the feelings within our hearts.

Unfortunately, Terriʼs suspicions were not wrong and when he got to the hospital he learnt from Julienne and Flammy that Candy was in Arras and would probably have to stay there for an uncertain time. The ladies kept their promise and did not tell Terri that Candy had been working in the field hospital, but encouraged the young man to continue in his trip, assuring him that his wife would soon be back in America.

That same evening Terri took the train and later a ship to Dover where Marvin Stewart, his administrator was already waiting for him.

=======

​

Mrs. OʼBrien held her daughterʼs hand looking delighted at the exquisite ring on Pattyʼs finger.

"Engaged!! Oh my dear, Iʼm so happy for you!!" the woman gasped happily, "Who is he?"

"Yes, thatʼs exactly the question I was thinking about!" commented Mr. OʼBrien who was sitting on a bergére while sipping his favorite cognac from a delicate snifter, "I want to believe he is a young man from a good family. When are we going to meet him, darling?"

Patty sighed deeply knowing that the moment she feared so much had finally arrived. She saw in her mind Tomʼs face smiling to her and then a voice she hadnʼt heard in long time sounded from the bottom of her heart.

"Come on Patty, donʼt be afraid!" were Candyʼs words clinking in the brunetteʼs ears.

The young woman lifted her eyes looking at her fatherʼs own.

"His name is Thomas Stevenson and he is one of Candyʼs best friends," Patty explained.

"If he is Miss Audreyʼs friend, he must be part of a prestigious and wealthy family, then," Mrs. OʼBrien remarked very happy with the explanation she had just created.

"Well, mother," Patty hesitated, "I can tell you that Tom is a good man who has inherited a fortune that his father made honestly, and he has managed his wealth since Mr. Stevenson died in a wise way."

"Thatʼs all I wanted to hear," replied Mr. OʼBrien contentedly, leaving his glass on a small table near him, "Iʼd like to meet this Mr. Stevenson as soon as possible. There are many things I want to discuss with him," he last added.

"He is already here in town, Dad," Patty responded as she twisted the material of her black skirt, " he wants to talk to you both and arrange the details for the wedding with your consent."

"Oh, that is just wonderful, honey!" Mrs. OʼBrien cried in joy. "But we have to give ourselves some time to prepare everything and decide if weʼll have the ceremony here in the States or in England!"

"But. . . ." Patty said shyly, "there is something you still have to know about Tom."

Mr. OʼBrien looked at her daughter with a slight suspicion on his dark eyes. He didnʼt like the tone in her daughterʼs voice. She sounded exactly the same as the day in which she had dared to say something against the decision of sending her to Saint Paulʼs Academy. In that time the girl was too attached to her grandmother and Mr. OʼBrien was afraid that his motherʼs unusual ways could be dangerous for the girlʼs education. Fortunately, he had known how to handle the situation back then and he would do the same if this Mr. Stevenson was not the man that Patty deserved.

"Yes, Patty, go ahead," the father prompted the daughter.

"Tomʼs father was a farmer. He made his fortune raising cattle and that is what Tom does," Patty told her parents, looking at how their faces transfigured as she talked. "Moreover, Tom was not Mr. Stevensonʼs real son. He was adopted. In fact, he was brought up in the same orphanage as Candy and Annie, till he was eight."

"A farmer!!! An adopted farmer of God knows what obscure origin!" gasped Mrs. OʼBrien stunned by her daughterʼs words.

"How did you dare to get involved with such a man, Patricia? Were you going insane?" reproached Mr. OʼBrien visibly upset with the news, which were worse than he expected.

"Tom is not a criminal, father. Iʼm not ashamed of my love for him!" Patty responded amazed at the vehemence of her own words, "You never complained about my friendship with Annie and Candy, and you knew they were adopted as well."

"That was totally different!" Mr. OʼBrien screamed even more enraged with his daughterʼs reaction. "Your friends are not going to become part of our family. Besides, you were Alistair Cornwellʼs fiancée, who was a real Audrey! What a shame that you donʼt know how to honor his memory falling for the first simpleton that crosses your way!"

The last words said by Mr. OʼBrien fell into Pattyʼs heart, breaking the last thin thread that was holding her resentments against her father.

Unknowingly, Pattyʼs father had built a wall between him and his daughter and in that moment the young lady understood that the definitive separation was unavoidable. Only a person who had not even the slightest idea of who Patty was and what she felt, could have said such hurting and unfair things about the two men she had loved.

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​

"Father, you donʼt know what you are saying," Patty replied with flaming eyes, "I love and honor Stearʼs memory more that you can imagine, but if you think that he would be displeased by my present love for Tom, you are wrong. Stear was a lot more than you know. He was a kind and sensitive man who never allowed prejudices to control his heart. He knew Tom and was proud of being his friend. I know that Stear is very happy for me now. And if you loved me as he did, you would also be happy for me!"

"I canʼt recognize my daughter in this woman who is talking to me!" blurted Mr. OʼBrien.

"Of course you canʼt. Neither you nor you!" Patty said in tears addressing to both of her parents. "You never took the time to get to know me! To meet the real me within this heart! You sent me away from Granny, the only person that had come close to me while you two were so busy with your business and your social responsibilities. You sent me to that school where I would have died of melancholy and loneliness if it hadnʼt been for one girl. One that you now disregard with contempt because she is an orphan, but who showed for me more love and understanding that you both together!"

"Patty, dear! What are you saying?!" cried Mrs. OʼBrien not able to understand her daughterʼs reproaches.

"Iʼm saying the truth, mother! Itʼs sad, but we have to face it!" Patty said between sobs.

"You are out of your mind now, Patricia, and you canʼt think clearly," replied Mr. OʼBrien making great efforts to remain calm. "Tomorrow I will talk to that Mr. Stevenson and tell him that the engagement between you and him cannot be. Then, weʼll make arrangements to go back to England after the winter and find a good husband for you there!"

Patty heard his father determinant words knowing that the most decisive moment had arrived. She had to decide just then if she was going to obey her fatherʼs dispositions and turn her back on Tom, or break her relationship with her parents, perhaps for the rest of her life.

"Weʼve both been lonely for a long time, Patty," Tomʼs words echoed in Pattyʼs ears, "However, I promise you that itʼll never be that way again. Our love will erase the sad memories. Together, weʼll create a new story."

The young woman sighed deeply as she felt a new strength filling her heart. In that moment she had made her last decision.

"Iʼm not going back to England, father," Patty riposted wiping her tears with one of her embroidered handkerchiefs, "I…I will marry Tom in January. You will be very welcome at the ceremony, if you want to attend," the girl told her astonished parents.

"How do you venture to disobey my orders?!" Mr. OʼBrien exclaimed in indignation, "You will do whatever I decide."

"Father, mother," Patty said solemnly looking at both of her parents as she stood up, "I would like that you excuse my outburst."

"Good, dear. Iʼm so glad to hear you say something reasonable, at last," Mrs. OʼBrien replied in relief.

"No mother. It is not what you think," the young woman responded, "Iʼm sorry for getting carried away, but I donʼt regret what I said because it is the truth. Unfortunately, I have become a person you canʼt understand. We think so differently that our relationship is almost impossible. I respect you as my parents, but I canʼt follow your desires. You should remember that Iʼm not a little girl any longer. I have reached the age of majority and Iʼm legally free to make my own decisions."

"If you donʼt obey my orders, Patricia, then you can forget you are an OʼBrien," threatened Pattyʼs father as a last resource in front of his daughterʼs surprising opposition.

"Iʼm really sorry to hear that, but I didnʼt expect it to be different, father," Patty replied lowering her head, "I wonʼt change my mind," she concluded with determination.

"Then get out of my house in this very moment!" the man screamed losing his phlegmatic tone.

"Please, darling" begged Mrs. OʼBrien not knowing whether to support her daughter or her husband, "you canʼt throw your own daughter to the streets!"

"Donʼt worry mother," Patty said with a compassionate look for her mother, "Iʼm not alone. Granny will receive me in her house until I marry Tom. We already knew that things would end up this way."

"Great! My daughter and my mother plotting against me! Now leave, Patricia, leave this house. I donʼt want to see you again in all my life," the man blurted.

"Donʼt worry, father," Patty said coldly, "It will only take me a while to pack back."

And with this last sentence the young woman left the room in direction to her bedroom. She did again the baggage she had just started to unpack, thinking that, while she folded her dresses, her parents were arguing in the main living room. As sad as it was, Patty knew that leaving her parents behind was the best thing that she could do. She had reencountered the lost happiness and she was not going to let it go.

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After Thanksgiving Day, Mrs. Aylo had ordered her army of servants to start the laborious task of decorating the Audreyʼs manor house for Christmas. Therefore, real hordes of red, green and golden ornaments, garlands, poinsettias, bells, angels and more, emerged from the chests that Mrs. Aylo kept in the immense attic, and all around the chambers the maids climbed on ladders cleaning and decorating the most hidden corner.

Outside the mansion, the gardeners and a few dozens of male servants worked diligently arranging the houseʼ façade with thousands of white lights. George Johnson was looking through the window of his private office in the house, admiring the titanic work those people were doing when he descried in the distance a large limousine that was crossing along the main path on its way to the house. When the car was close enough, George immediately recognized the Brightonʼs coat of arms on the limousine hood. Some seconds later, the vehicle stopped just at the house entrance and a young lady with dark and silky hair came out of the vehicle.

"Anne Brighton!" thought Johnson, "I wonder why she is here. . ."

The young woman was immediately received by the old butler who escorted her to the houseʼs main parlor, where he left her alone. The girl stood up in the middle of the large room, twisting nervously the laces that ornamented her gloves. She lifted her eyes and saw over the enormous marble chimney a beautiful portrait that depicted the three main heirs of the Audreyʼs fortune: William Albert, Archibald and Candice White. Despite grandmother Ayloʼs annoyance, Albert had insisted in including Candy in the portrait and since Archie had supported his uncleʼs idea, the old lady didnʼt have any option but accepting the large oleo painting as part of the official decoration.

Annie admired once more the bright green eyes that looked at her with a kind expression from the portrait, thinking that the artist had done an excellent job capturing Candyʼs sweetness over the canvas. However, behind the dazzling smile her friend showed on the painting, Annie noticed something she hadnʼt been able to see before. It was some sort of absent air, perhaps melancholy, that Annie discovered for the first time.

"You must have suffered so much, dear Candy," Annie thought, "but I promise I wonʼt fail you again. This time I will not allow anything to disturb the happiness you deserve."

"Miss Brighton," the butler called her, making Annie come back from her internal reflections, "Mr. Cornwell says that he will gladly talk to you. Would you please follow me?" the man asked with affected tone.

Both, young lady and butler, walked for long time along the luxuriously decorated corridors until they reached a white door that the man opened for Annie to enter the chamber. It was the room that Archie used as his personal office. The young man was standing behind a mahogany desk and when the lady came in, he approached a few steps to greet her with a simple nod of his blond head. He was about to bow his face to kiss Annieʼs hand but then the young woman simply shook Archieʼs hand in a mute sign that told him that such a gallantry could be skipped between the two of them, then she immediately retrieved her hand.

"You must be asking why I am here," Annie said the first.

"Well, if I am honest with you, the answer is yes," Archie replied in a plain tone, "but you must think I am becoming a dolt. Please have a seat, Annie," the man offered showing the girl the way to an armchair in front of his desk.

"I wonʼt take much of your time, Archie…Archibald," she stated as coldly as she could. "It is about Candy that I came to talk to you," she blurted going straight ahead to the point.

Archie felt a little uneasy with the attitude change in the always sweet girl who suddenly appeared tense and distant, as though his presence were bothering her. Internally, he felt guilty for such a transformation in Annieʼs usually kind mood.

"About Candy?" Archie asked intrigued, wondering if Annie had found out that he had broken with her because of Candy, and was there that morning, to reproach him for that.

"Yes, I imagine you already know that she got married in France," Annie said realizing that the topic was not pleasant for Archie. Yet, she knew that it could not be avoided. Immediately, a disturbed shadow swept Archieʼs face and Annie knew that she was not wrong in her suspicions.

"That is so," he simply stated.

"Then you will understand that since the war has already finished Candy and Terri will soon come back in America," she went on but Archie still didnʼt understand where Annie wanted to get.

"I suppose, " the young man replied coldly while tapping softly with his fingers over the deskʼs polished surface.

"Well," Annie continued with a quiet sigh that Archie could barely perceived, "I want everything to be perfect for Candy when she comes back. She and Terri didnʼt even have a honeymoon before, and when they arrive I wouldnʼt like that Candy start over by worrying for us instead of enjoying her new life with her husband. I think she has always looked after all of us and now she deserves to have some time of her own."

"And what do you suggest we do in order to make Candy and her . . . famous husband perfectly happy ever after?" Archie asked, not without a hint of irony in his voice. Annie noticed it and had to make an extra effort to reply.

"Well, I was thinking," she decided to continue her explanation instead of responding to Archieʼ sarcasm, "that we should spare Candy the news of our break up. At least for some time."

"What could we gain by hiding the truth?" asked Archie, becoming more and more upset with Annieʼs desires.

"I can see that you donʼt like the idea of lying," Annie replied holding her tears with all her might, "but it is not for me that I am asking this to you, but for Candy. You know she loves us both and was expecting . . ." she hesitated.

"To see us married," Archie had the courage to end the sentence.

"Yes," the brunette continued trying to gather the strength to get what she had decided to obtain, "and as she loves the both of us so much I know she will be very saddened by this situation. I would like us to pretend that everything goes fine…"

"And how long would such a comedy last?" Archie asked bluntly.

"Not too long. Just give me a month for Candy and Terri start adjusting to their new life and for me to arrange the things for my trip to Italy," the young woman explained awakening Archieʼs curiosity.

"I donʼt think that a pleasure tour around Italy could be a good idea now that the war has just finished. The country is surely in middle of a real chaos. Have you thought about that?" Archie asked thinking about something else besides his own bitterness towards Terrence for the first time in the interview.

"I am not traveling for pleasure," Annie said lifting her head, a shy new flame burning inside her, "Iʼm going to Italy to study. I might stay there for quite a long time."

"I see," was all that a very astonished Archie could say.

"When Candy realizes about our break up I want her to see that we are both fine with plenty of personal projects. You have your business to care about and I will be very busy in Europe," then Annie paused for a moment and joining new boldness she added, " Please, Archibald, think that this is not about me. . . or about Terri. Do it for Candy."

The young man looked at Annie with amazed eyes. In that moment it was clear to him that the girl was able to see through his heart as if he were made out of glass. She knew it all. He sighed and lowering his eyes finally yielded.

"All right, Annie," the young man accepted, "weʼll play that game of yours . . . for Candyʼs sake."

"So you accept?….Good!!" the young woman said still unbelieving that she had convinced him so easily. "Then, we have a deal," she added standing up and offering her hand to the man in front of her with an energetic gesture.

"A deal. . . thatʼs what we have now . . . yes" he responded shaking Annieʼs hand more and more surprised at her reactions.

"There are few details we still have to agree on," the girl explained as she walked towards the door followed by the young man, "but if you donʼt mind I will arrange all that through Albert in the due time and he will let you know."

"So you already have Albert hooked into this comedy!" he said shocked.

"He has always been there for Candy," the girl answered with a penetrating look, "as you and I have never been before. I donʼt see why he would refuse to help me with this, if it is all for Candyʼs well being. Of course he accepted immediately. Good afternoon, Archibald, and thanks again for your help," she concluded categorically.

"Let me ask the butler to escort you to the door," the man only managed to respond, not really knowing what to reply to the ladyʼs statement.

"No thanks, I already know the way," she last said turning her back to Archie and walking away through the corridor, leaving behind a man who could hardly believe that the shy girl he had met in his puberty was turning into a very different person.

"You are changing, Annie!. . . We are all changing so much that I am afraid we wonʼt be able to recognize one another very soon," he said letting escape a deep sigh.

Annie Brighton got into her limousine and when she was leaving the immense estate she turned back to see the manor house from the distance.

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​

"So I was right," she thought sadly, finally allowing her tears to shed freely. "You have never got over Candy and now you are suffering, my dear Archie," she sobbed unable to restrain her pain, "Donʼt be so bitter with Terri, Archie, we canʼt blame them for our frustrated feelings and unrequited affections. None of us planned it to be this way."

The young woman continued crying silently in her way home, wondering when the fountain of her tears for Archibald Cornwell would finally dry.

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It was a placid and chilly morning by the end of November. The seasonal spirit was already floating in the air and the neighbors were busy decorating their houses for the holidays. The young man looked at the still green and well cared yards, the white porches ornamented with garlands and the lights on the cornices, windowsills and roofs. The atmosphere was settled for a traditional American Christmas. It was almost a dream to feel at home and breath that well known fragrance of Long Islandʼs air. The car kept going through the quiet residential area until, in the distance, he could spot the house where he was heading.

The vehicle stopped in front of an elegant Victorian house that dominated the suburban landscape with its sober lines. The young man got out of the car and once he had paid the taxi driver for his services he walked with firm steps towards the house main door.

Felicity Parker was checking the groceries that the messenger had just brought. In all the years she had worked as a housekeeper, the woman had never lost a penny or neglected any of her responsibilities. There were five maids, a gardener and a chauffeur in the house and they all were managed by her with a soft but efficient hand and she was proud of the good job she had always done.

The ladyʼs careful eye was on the process of certifying the quality of the apples when the bell rang in the front door. She looked at the kitchenʼs clock and wondered who could be waiting at the entrance at the ungodly hour of eleven a.m. The house owner never received anybody before lunch.

"Iʼll see whoʼs knocking," said the maid who was helping Felicity with the shopping list.

"No dear," the older woman replied, "leave it to me. It must be a novel journalist thinking that he can get an interview just like that. Iʼll set that kid in his rightful place," and saying this, the woman left her apron on a chair and fixing her hair she walked to the dining room, then to the living room and later to the hall.

Felicity mentally organized how she would deal with her imaginary young reporter. However, when she opened the door she found indeed a young man, yet not exactly the one she was expecting. Right in front of her, dressed in the green uniform of the U.S.A. infantry there was a man in his early twenties with chestnut hair and blue eyes that look at her with a mischievous expression. Felicity gasped in amazement and nearly fainted with the surprise.

"My goodness!" she yelled, "This is a dream! My child! I canʼt believe youʼre here!" the woman cried flinging her arms around the young manʼs neck, "Iʼm so glad to see you well and safe!"

"Iʼm glad to see you too, Felicity," the young man replied hugging his former nanny, genuinely happy to see her again.

"Oh God! Oh God!" the woman panted out of breath, "When did you arrive? Are you fine? We heard you were wounded! You should have told us in advance that you were coming, now your mother will have a heart attack with the surprise!" Felicity said in a jumble as she tried to fan herself with her hand.

"Well, we have to see that," the man replied smiling at the gabbling woman , "but donʼt you think that it will be better if you invite me to come in? Itʼs kind of cold out here, you see," he added winking to the lady who immediately let him in.

"What is going on, Felicity? Why are you screaming like that?" asked a voice coming from the studio and a second after a blond woman in a white robe and with a large book in her hands appeared in the living room.

Eleanor Baker let the book fall to the floor taking one hand to her mouth, still not able to utter a single word. Her iridescent eyes suddenly flooded with tears while she mutely contemplated Terrenceʼs figure standing in front of her, right in the middle of her parlor. The same place where she had last seen him almost two years before.

"Mother," Terri told her with husky voice, "Iʼm back!" was all he could say as he saw his mother extending her arms towards him.

"My son! My son! Terri, my beloved child!" the woman cried as she embraced him, thanking God for the grace of having her son back. She understood in that moment that her sleepless nights had ended.

"Would you forgive me for all the grief I caused you?" the young man asked while her mother still whimpered in his arms.

"The joy of this day pays back for every tear we could have shed, Terri," the woman answered knowing that she had just said the best lines in all her life, so far.

That was a day of celebration in the Bakerʼs house and Felicity Parker, for the first time in her professional career, could not think about the groceries that she had totally forgotten in the kitchen. The good woman was so overwhelmed by the events that she decided to leave the responsibility in the cookʼs hands while she took a couple of pills to appease her bowled over heart. After all, she was not that young any longer.

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A gentle breeze swept over the city the evening when Candice White arrived in Paris. Unknowingly, the carriage in which she was traveling took her along Saint Michelle boulevard, forcing her to live again the afternoon she had last spent with Terri. Once more she counted the days that she would still have to wait while traveling to England and then to New York. If she managed to take the ship in Liverpool as she had planned it, she would be at home by December the 7th. She could hardly wait for that day to come!

As soon as the war had ended she had applied for a discharge from the army, but did not receive any answer in several weeks. However, when she had almost lost all hope and accepted that she would have to spend the holidays in France, she received the authorization to go back home. The young woman read and read again the brief lines in which the government of her country thanked her for her valuable services, yet all that she could understand as the tears rolled over her cheeks was that she would soon be with those she loved, celebrating Christmas as she had promised all of her friends the previous year.

Candy tried to memorize each view of the city she was crossing in her way to Saint Jacques Hospital. The Latin Neighborhood, the Seine, Montmartre, the stone bridges, the Champs Elysée, La Concorde, Luxembourg Garden, each place had a memory that would always live in her mind. The year and a half she had spent in France had not been easy at all, yet she could not complain because God had blessed her in many ways during that time.

It didnʼt take long before the carriage passed by the park near the hospital and Candy knew that she had arrived at her destination. She had never liked saying good bye to her friends, but she understood that there was no other option. The young woman stood in front of the old building trying to gain the courage she needed to get into the hospital.

Julienne and Flammy were so happy to see their friend that could hardly speak at the beginning, but they didnʼt have to say that much because Candy was so excited that she didnʼt let them talk for a good while, chattering and giggling like a lark in spring time. She told them about her last days in the front, the things she had lived there and how much she had missed everybody in Saint Jacques, and since the blondeʼs excitement didnʼt seem to have an end she soon made the two brunettes feel overwhelmed by her limitless supply of energy and smiles.

However, Julienne managed to explain Candy that her husband Gérald had been dismissed on health grounds but was recovering fast in a hospital in Lorraine. She was expecting to be discharged so she could travel to that region and finally meet him there. Candy could noticed that her friendʼs face was suddenly younger and radiant. The veil of sadness that had covered her expression during all the time she had known her had disappeared revealing a woman Candy hadnʼt seen before. The young blonde supposed that she was finally meeting the real Julienne, the one that didnʼt have fear for her husbandʼs life at every minute of the day. Candy admired her friend even more, knowing by her own experience how it felt to have someone beloved fighting in the front. The blonde had just suffered such conditions for a few months but her friend had endured the situation for long years.

"Iʼm so happy for you, Julie," Candy told her smiling, "Now you will be able to give a second thought on adopting a child. Promise me you will."

"Of course I will," Julienne replied smiling back. "Next time you come to France you will be very welcomed at the Bousenniéresʼ house, and youʼll surely meet our child."

"Be sure about that," Candy said to Julienne and then turning to Flammy she asked her about the brunetteʼs plans for the future.

"You know Candy, I have been thinking a lot about coming back to Chicago," Flammy responded doubtful, "Even though I really want to see my family, itʼs been so long since I last saw them that Iʼm not sure if I will feel fine with them, plus . . ."

"Plus what?" asked Candy suspiciously, noticing in Flammyʼs dark eyes a new sparkle that had never been there before.

"Flammy wants to say that she has a new friend and sheʼs not quite sure about leaving France so soon," explained Julienne helping Flammy to express her ideas.

Candy gave both brunettes a questioning glance. The blush in Flammyʼs cheeks and the malice in Julienneʼs eyes made her understand at once what they had meant.

"Itʼs not what you are thinking, Candy!" Flammy hurried to clear up as she realized that Candyʼs dreaming mind was already making up a romantic tale, "We are beginning to be friends, thatʼs all."

"You are, huh?" Candy smiled wickedly, "You and Yves, I suppose you want to say."

"Well yes," Flammy mumbled, "he came back to the hospital, but as a patience this time."

"Was he wounded?" asked Candy immediately worried when she heard that her friend was in hospital and not precisely working.

"Yes, apparently he had a hard time in the front. A bullet scratched one of his legs and he will be temporarily blinded because of mustard gas effects, but heʼll survive," Julienne informed Candy in detail, "but since his arrival our friend here has taken good care of him."

"My goodness girl!" Candy exclaimed happily, "This is what I call something made in heaven."

"Oh Candy," Flammy riposted, "Donʼt exaggerate things. We are just good friends, I already told you."

"O.K., O.K." Candy responded with a sigh, "let time say the last word on this matter," she admitted but inwardly she wished with all her heart that life could finally reward Flammy for all the past sufferings.

The women asked the blonde if she wanted to see Yves but she refused, thinking that it was still too soon for such a reencounter. It was better to let the young manʼs internal wounds heal before they could see each other again.

Candy was also told about Terriʼs visit to Paris, and felt very disappointed when she realized that they could have traveled back to America together if she had received her discharge just a few days before. She then supposed that it had been again one of those failed encounters that they had suffered so many times in the past. Nevertheless, she tried her best to cheer herself up thinking that they had an entire life to share.

Later, after a couple of two short hours of conversation Candy realized that it was already time to leave if she didnʼt want to lose her train. The young woman looked at her two dear friends that had shared with her almost two years of good and bad times, full of tears, laughter, danger, pain and joy. She didnʼt know when she was going to be able to see them again, perhaps many years would have to pass before that moment, maybe such day would never arrive. This last perspective left a little hollow in her heart, because every time we say good bye to a dear friend, the loss leaves an empty place in our hearts that cannot be filled up with the arrival of a new pal.

Nevertheless, Candy had learnt that departures and farewells are a part of human lives that we cannot avoid, and with this conviction she last hugged her two friends wishing them the best for the years to come. The young woman left Saint Jacques walking slowly along the ancient halls and as she passed by the interior garden her eyes were caught by the miracle of a tiny flower that was still resisting to the cool autumn gust. Candy took the flower with her pressing it inside her prayers book, as a last memory of the country where she had appeased her pains, made new friends, recovered the lost hopes and reencountered true love.

Candy also went to see Father Graubner, but he was already in a church in Lyon, thus she could not see him for a last time and she thought that it had been better because it would have been very difficult to say goodbye to the man she owed so much.

Finally, on December the 1st Candy was in Liverpool waiting for the ship that would take her back to New York.

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​

George Johnson was standing up next to his bossʼ desk while the young man signed an endless number of documents. Albertʼs pen scratched each page with rhythmic pace and from time to time he looked at the grandfather clock in the large office, a clear annoyance reflected on his features. George remembered in that moment how 30 years before, Albertʼs father had brought him to that same office for the first time, to start instructing and involving him into the complex world of finances and speculative business. William Audrey had been a kind and honorable man totally devoted to his enterprises, which he led always guided by the most strict moral principles. The man enjoyed his work with such a passion that it was contagious, and George, having learnt the business as his pupil, had acquired his same enthusiasm. William Audrey never looked at the clock when he was working.

Albert signed the last paper and leaning on his armchair he stretched his long body with a questioning look in his eyes that George understood immediately.

"Yes, sir," the man said nodding his head that already had a few gray strands in the mane that had been as black as the darkest night in the past, "in a few minutes more the main stockholders will be arriving."

"You know George," commented the blond man, "I was thinking that you have helped me in all this enormous task but you have never given me your opinion about the decisions I have made."

"Well, you have never asked, Mr. Audrey," the man answered plainly.

"Now Iʼm doing it," Albert replied, "do you think that Iʼm doing the right thing?"

Georgeʼs impassive face gave a slight hint of a smile and sitting down on the armchair in front of Albert finally spoke:

"You know sir, I worked for your father since my youth and in all the time, while I had the privilege to observe him making deals and thinking about new ideas to improve the family business that he, on his turn, had inherited from his father, I always saw him full of energy and enthusiasm. He loved his work and enjoyed every second that he spent in this office until the day he passed away. However, when I see you working, despite all the talent you obviously have to do business, I can tell that you donʼt enjoy this work, but endure it as though it were a punishment. Am I wrong, sir?" the man asked looking directly at Albertʼs cerulean eyes.

"You are absolutely right, George," Albert responded chuckling.

"Then, sir, you donʼt have to hesitate. Mr. Cornwell will do an excellent job because he is just like his grandfather."

Albert smiled feeling better as he realized that the wise man who had been a sort of older brother for him approved his decisions.

"I think it is time," Albert said standing up. "Letʼs face them all."

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​

And with this last statement both men left the office and addressed their steps to the boardroom, in order to attend the shareholdersʼ meeting Albert had called.

When they entered the room everybody was already waiting for them, including Mrs. Aylo who looked at her grandson with an intrigued glance, wondering what was so important to call the shareholders.

William Albert sat down in his place and with a calm voice he gave a detailed explanation about the state of the Audrey enterprises. The young man went on and on for over an hour informing about the changes he had made in the company since he had first got in charge of its destiny three years before. He cleared up the recent movements and new acquisitions and finally added a prospective report on what the future of the company could be for the following five years. When he had ended with his speech he paused for a second and after drinking some water he announced:

"During all this year I have been working with my nephew Archibald Cornwell," Albert started, looking at Archie who was sitting at his left hand side, "and now he is totally familiarized with the companyʼs operation. He knows our policies, principles and is well prepared to start working as an executive. Knowing how skillful he is, and being the third one on the line of heritage, - you all know that Miss Candice Audrey, who is the second one in the line, is not interested in business- I have decided to let him be in charge of the presidency," Albert sentenced.

Mrs. Aylo opened her mouth but could not move it even when she tried to utter a complaint. Albert continued his discourse explaining to the shareholders that he would be traveling for quite a good time, hence his decision to leave the family business in Archieʼs hands.

Albert had taken Archie to every board meeting, social event and important transaction he had attended during a year, therefore, all the men in the room were familiar with the young millionaire who had proved in more than one occasion to be a clever and intelligent business man. So, none of them protested Albertʼs decision, but supported it with gladness. Some of them even thought that Archibald Cornwellʼs aggressive style could even be more convenient for the companyʼs interests.

When the meeting finished all the shareholders stood up to congratulate Archie, but Mrs. Aylo remained in silence looking at his grandson and great-grandson with cold eye.

"I want to talk to you in private, William," said the old lady, while she stood up and left the boardroom with haughty air, "Iʼll be waiting for you in your fatherʼs office," she announced walking to the door with lordly slow steps.

Albert took a few minutes more saying good bye to the members of his family, each one in his turn and when he had finished with the last one, the young man left Archie and George behind. He was conscious that the time to face his grandmother had come at last. He walked slowly but firmly to his office trying to keep focused on the target he had aimed for such a long time.

"Could you please tell me now why are you making this insane decision, William?" asked the old woman as soon as her grandson came into the office, "I just canʼt believe that you are leaving Archie alone, turning your back on your family in this irresponsible way!" the lady reproached acridly.

"Take a seat, grandmother," Albert asked as he also sat down on a loveseat, "I know that you are upset and perhaps you have the right to feel that way since I didnʼt tell you in advance what I was planning to do," he said.

"Iʼm not only upset, William, but deeply hurt by your behavior!" the woman growled.

"I know, grandmother, and I apologize, yet I thought this was the most appropriate thing to do," Albert continued with firm conviction in his voice.

"Iʼll tell you what would be appropriate, stubborn child," the lady yelled in anger, "It would be appropriate for you to forget about that stupid idea of traveling, concentrate on our business, find a decent woman to marry, have a stable and respectable marriage and in the same process find also a husband for that adoptive daughter of yours before she dishonors our family by marrying a nobody without fortune and lineage!"

"You have everything so carefully plan, donʼt you, grandmother?" Albert asked, beginning to lose his patience with the old lady. "But Iʼm afraid my projects will never match with yours. Iʼm really sorry but I wonʼt live my life as you wish."

"Oh William, you donʼt know how much your words upset me!" the woman whined taking one of her hands to her chest, "You and that pernicious girl are going to kill me one of these days!"

Albert saw how the old lady had suddenly paled and he couldnʼt avoid to be shocked by his grandmotherʼs histrionic skills. Unfortunately for Mrs. Aylo Audrey, her grandson had already seen her brilliant performance before.

"Grandmother, listen to me please," Albert replied in his sweetest tone, trying to recover the lost patience. "I know that the familyʼs honor and pride are very important for you and you feel threatened when somebody in the family doesnʼt seem to fit into your preconceived ideas of composure and appropriateness. Iʼm really sorry for not meeting your expectations but it is not in my nature to be a business man."

"But your grandfather and your father were bright business men, the two of them!" the lady insisted. "You have to continue with the tradition and maintain our familyʼs fortune!"

"I donʼt have to, grandmother," Albert defended his position with more vehemence, "I did my best to adapt but it only made me very unhappy. Believe me, after three years, almost four of trying with all my heart, I realized I was just fooling myself."

"But you have done it so well so far," Aylo said still reluctant to accept the reality.

"Yes, but it is not what makes me feel complete and content!" the young man said more and more convinced of his every word, "Finances and business were fine for my father, but not for me. I canʼt continue here, lying to myself and to every body. Iʼm already twenty eight, grandmother, I have to find my own way, or rather reencounter it, because I had already found it seven years ago. But I gave away my own dreams for your sake. I think itʼs time for me to start thinking about myself."

"This is all that orphan girlʼs fault!" the lady said among sobs, her voice a blend of frustration and resentments. "Since she entered our family everything has been tragedy!"

"Thatʼs not true!" Albert blurted defensively. "All on the contrary, she has been the best friend Iʼve ever had. The only one who has always understood my ways! The only one who risked her reputation to help me when I was sick with amnesia. And if you could sympathize with me as she does, you would be happy for me instead of being here, trying to make me feel guilty!"

"I will never accept her as part of our family! I will always blame her for turning all of my children against me!" the woman screamed bitterly.

Albert stood in silence for a while, looking at his grandmother with sorrow and disappointment.

"Have it as you wish, grandmother!" he replied in plain tone, "Candy has never needed our family to get by, especially now. I hope that in the future you donʼt get to regret the words that you had just said! But I warn you, grandmother, if you want to preserve my respect and Archieʼs love, never do anything against Candy, because we would never forgive you!"

"Oh God!" the lady screamed, "I think my heart cannot take this anymore!"

"Donʼt worry, grandmother," Albert replied with phlegmatic tone, "Iʼll make my secretary call a doctor for you," the young man said as he walked to the door, but in the middle of the way he stopped and turning back to see the old lady he added, "By the way, from now on Iʼll be staying in Lakewood until I leave for Europe next February. Please, donʼt count on me for the holidays."

And with this last words Albert abandoned the office leaving his grandmother with the worst tantrum she had had in years.

 

[domniki]

Part II

Reencounters

​

Archie looked at his gloved fingers for the hundredth time that morning while the car took him and his uncle along the busy streets. The young man removed his sandy strands from his forehead and tried to change position on the car seat once more, yet he could not find himself at ease. Albert cast a glance at his nephew from time to time, still wondering if it had been a mistake to let Archie come with him, but he told himself again that he didnʼt have any option since the young man had insisted so vehemently. Albert hoped that Archibald would keep his promise and behave as a gentleman.

As soon as Terrence had received a telegram from France announcing the date Candy would be back in New York, the young man had made sure to let Albert know the good news. Immediately, the millionaire decided to travel all that way to New York, in order to be there when the young woman arrived from England. At the same time, once Archibald learnt about the matter, he couldnʼt refrain his desires to see Candice again and pleaded with Albert to accept his company. Albert tried to make Archie desist of such idea, knowing that the situation would be highly painful for his nephew. However, the young man did not hear his uncleʼs reasons and the latter ended up acceding to Archieʼs wishes.

=========

​

The car kept on moving while Archie saw through the vehicleʼs window how the soft snow flakes began to fall over the neighborhood they were entering. It was quite a change to contemplate that serene area when they had been traveling by the noisy avenues in Manhattan for a good while since they had left the train station. Notwithstanding how close they still were to the Big Apple, that residential area in Fort Lee, New Jersey, was a sort of refreshing spot just an hour away from "the city", as the neighbors usually called New York. The placid view, however, did not relieve Archie from his unpleasant thoughts.

Finally, the car stopped in front of one of the houses on the long block, and the passengers understood they had arrived to their destination. After that moment, everything happened in the midst of hazy scenes for Archibald. The place was charming and the house owner received his visitors with warm affability that amazed the servants, who were used to their masterʼs rude ways. Archie observed with a distant air how Albert and Terrence hugged each other fraternally, clearly happy to see one another after long time of being drifted apart by the circumstances.

"Itʼs amazing to see you after such a long time!" Terri told his old pal.

"Almost eight years since I last saw you in London!"

"Yes, I can hardly believe it," Albert chuckled patting on Terrenceʼs shoulder, "you are no longer the skinny kid that used to pick up fights with grown up men, as I remember," the blond man joked.

"Well, I might have grown up a bit, but I still have that talent for getting into troubles. But youʼre not getting any younger either," Terrence responded laughing frankly and then turned to see the other blond men behind Albert. Terrence smiled kindly at his former classmate, "Nice to see you again, Archie, itʼs been a long time since that last occasion in Chicago, hasnʼt it?" the young man said offering his hand.

"Thatʼs right. Itʼs nice seeing you too," was Archibaldʼs polite but cold response, yet Terrence didnʼt notice it. So happy he was, feeling that the moment to have the woman he loved back in his arms, was coming closer and closer at every second.

Albert and Terri continued talking for a long time while Archie followed the conversation with not much interest. The dinner lasted for hours that seemed endless for the brown-eyed man but he resisted the best that he could, telling himself that the only thing that mattered was that Candy would arrive the following morning and he could see her again. That was all that he wanted, and he didnʼt care if she had become Terriʼs wife or the Queen of Sheba, he needed to see her even if, for her eyes, he could only be old cousin Archie.

=======

​

Needless to say, he couldnʼt sleep that night. He turned up and down on the bed that suddenly appeared too wide and empty while a strange distress invaded his heart. He walked in circles around the bedroom, realizing that it was a better idea to take advantage of his insomnia. So, he went downstairs to finish revising the last act he had written. The young man lit the fire in the studio and while he was still there, crouching in front of the stone chimney, he wondered why he was feeling so uneasy, as though something bad was about to happen.

The young man shook his head trying to dismiss the dark thoughts.

"Itʼs just that Iʼm so excited because she will be here tomorrow . . ." he tried to convince himself, but despite his efforts to remain calm the dawn surprised him still immersed in the same considerations.

After having breakfast in the Waldorf Astoria, where they were staying, the Audreys met Terrence at the docks, hoping that Candyʼs ship would arrive on time. The place was busy because more and more vessels from Europe were arriving since the war had ended. Sailors, immigrants, merchants, entire families waiting for the arrival of those they loved populated the area, giving to the wharves a sort of festive mood.

The three men waited trying to appease their impatience with a casual conversation, but it didnʼt take long before Archie left his uncle and his newly acquired "cousin in law" talking about the formerʼs future plans while he went for a walk along the piers.

Terri, on his own, was only listening to Albert halfheartedly, because the same unpleasant hunch kept bothering his heart, stronger and stronger as the clocked moved. Nevertheless, Albert was a man of such an interesting conversation that despite his worries Terri ended up getting truly involved in the talk.

Unfortunately, even Albert began to feel worried when they realized that the ship had taken too long to arrive. It was then when George, who as usual was by Albertʼs side, decided to ask the employees about the S.S. Reveer. When the tanned man George was came out of the office where he had asked about the shipʼs arrival, his face had suddenly paled and his eyes had a slight hint of fear revealed in his normally unexpressive features. Albert looked at him and his guts shuddered inside him.

"What did they tell you?" asked Albert with dried voice.

"Well, sir, they gave me news about the ship, but Iʼm afraid they are not very good," the serious man attempted to explain the best that he could.

"What are you saying, George, speak!" demanded a very alarmed Archie who had just returned from his walk along the wharves on time to listen to Georgeʼs last statement.

"They just. . . received a telegram from England," said the brunette man lowering his eyes, "The ship in which Mrs. Candy traveled faced a storm near Ireland. Unfortunately the pumps didnʼt work properly and the S.S. Reveer sunk 200 miles away from the coast."

Archie looked at Albert not really believing what his ears had heard, wishing that he had just dreamt what George was saying. However, when he saw the terror on Albertʼs eyes he realized that he was awaken.

"Are there any survivors?" managed Albert to ask with hoarse voice.

"Yes, Mr. Andrew," George announced, "but they donʼt have the list with names yet."

"But why havenʼt we read anything about a shipwreck in the papers?" wondered Archie visibly devastated.

"Well, sir," went on George, "I asked the same question to the employee and he told me that due to the weather the ship had interrupted its trip in Ireland for about four days. The shipwrecked happened yesterday morning. The news will surely appear on the papers this afternoon."

"When…when…will we know . . ." Albert tried to ask but his voice faltered before he could finish the sentence.

"The names of the survivors, sir?" finished George guessing his bossʼ question. "They say they will look during two days. Then, we will able to know if . . . if Mrs. Candy is among the survivors," George stammered also moved by the events.

It was not until that moment that Albert remembered about Terri and turned to see the young man who was still sitting on the bench where they had been waiting so far. His eyes were lost in the distant blue horizon, as though they were totally oblivious to any earthly preoccupation. His face had blanched giving him a languid appearance that reminded Albert of his sister Rosemary, in the last days before her death. Realizing that the young man had not opened his mouth since George had come out of the office, Albert understood that Terri was in a sort of shock.

"Terri," Albert called him putting a hand on his friendʼs shoulder. "Are you listening to me, Terri?"

Yet the young man did not emit any answer, his eyes fixated on the lambent waters that bathed the piers, while his hands rested on each one of his knees. Albert observed that they were almost clenching the young manʼs pants, trembling hardly noticeably.

"Terri, Terri!" the young man called again.

"Ummm?" Terrence responded absentmindedly.

"You heard what George said, didnʼt you?" asked the young tycoon while Archie, with the eyes full of tears observed the scene, not able to understand Terriʼs reaction.

"Yes. . . the shipwreck," Terri answered and in that moment his eyes turned to see Albert, blue sea meeting blue sky, and the older man could look at a strange glimmer into his friendʼs pupils, "you are not thinking that she is dead, are you?" Terri said with defying tone standing up from the bench.

"Nobody said that, Terri," replied Albert trying to sound collected but feeling that his faith was little by little fading inside him.

"Good, because she is fine!" Terri stated with a conviction that scared the three men with him, "Now, are you planning to stay here the whole day?" he asked to his companions.

"No . . .not really. It is just that we were so overwhelmed. Terri you must understand that the situation is grave," responded Archie confused at Terriʼs words.

"It is not so!" the brunette man yelled at Archie as though he had pronounced a blasphemy, "Donʼt even say it! She is fine!" he insisted with almost a roar.

"All right, Terri, nobody is saying the contrary, "Albert tried to mediate, "Now why donʼt we just go to your house and try to discuss what we are going to do in these two days until we know where Candy is. Is that fine for you?" the older man asked and Terri only nodded coming back to his muteness.

The four men got in the car and soon it was just a spot that ended disappearing in the distance.

========

​

The forty eight hours that followed were very close to hell for the three men, though for each one of them the experience was remarkably different. Archie was perhaps the most pessimist of the three. Since he had heard the news of the shipwreck, the young man slowly sunk into a murky depression, feeling how the sleeping pains inside his heart began to awake once more. Not knowing how to deal with the stressful situation and the anticipated feeling of loss, he simply let his anxieties flow through an unintentional display of irritation and rudeness that the people around him had to suffer.

As curious as it may have been and contrary to all logic, Terrence confined himself in complete silence and denial. He hardly spoke to anybody, and despite the cookʼs efforts, he barely ate or slept. Once his guest had decided what they would do during the time they had to wait, the young man simply confined himself in his studio. For hours and hours he simply sat down in an arm chair, looking at the nothingness while he internally repeated himself that the strange presentments he had were just telling him that she wouldnʼt arrive on the date, but later.

Albert, on his own, and following his collected nature, handled the situation better than his two younger friends. He and George made the needed phone calls, sent telegrams overseas to those that could help to find out as soon as possible if Candy had survived the shipwreck, and decided what should be done meanwhile they didnʼt received the definitive report from England. However, deep inside him, Albert was also devastated, knowing by a telegram sent by his former brother in law, Admiral Brown, that the possibilities to survive in the cold waters of Ireland during a storm, were very little.

The days went by very slowly but finally, on December 9th, the phone rang in Terrenceʼs house. It was an employee from the British embassy and Edward, the butler, took the call. The man held the phone nodding in silence or answering with monosyllabic words, the Audreys, who were waiting in the living room looked at him with frozen eyes.

"Mr. Audrey," the middle age man told Albert, "I think this gentleman wants to talk to you," and saying this, the butler gave the phone to the blond man who talked for a while with the employee as his face paled dramatically. When Albert hung up, he had aged about ten years and his eyes, for the first time in three days, were full of tears.

Candice White Audrey had effectively boarded the S.S. Reever in Liverpool on December the 1st as the registration book confirmed, but her name was not among the list of 10 survivors, all of them male, who had been rescued a few hours before, and had been hospitalized because they were suffering hypothermia after staying in the cold waters for almost two days. These men had been unconscious for hours and hadnʼt been able to give any account of the events, having just managed to say their names.

"So, it is confirmed," Albert said huskily, "She is dead . . . our Candy is dead!" the young man murmured sobbing silently when Terrence was entering the living room, with the face unshaved and the eyes surrounded with dark circles because of the lack of sleep.

Archibald cried alone standing next to a window while mumbling in almost unintelligible words that he was doomed to lose every person he loved. Outside, the ponds that surrounded the neighborhood were starting to freeze, but the coldness of the season was nothing compared to the gelid atmosphere that had suddenly invaded the house.

Terrence stood in the middle of the room in silence. A slight frown had appeared on his face that reflected a blend of confusion and distress. However, he searched into the depths of his heart, but couldnʼt feel the pain that he was supposed to experience. The young man wondered why he wasnʼt sensing any ache in his chest, why the subtle connection he had with his wife was telling him that she was fine, still away, but fine.

"They could be wrong," he finally said dryly, "I think she is not dead," he repeated and with every word he felt more secure of his presentment.

"Didnʼt you listen? Stop evading the reality and get a grip!" asked Archie visibly upset at Terriʼs statement, "I had gone through this same situation before, and I can tell you that you gain nothing denying the truth. As hard as it might be, you have to accept that she is dead!" the young man blurted bitterly.

"Since when are you entitled to tell me what I have to do, Archie?" asked Terri feeling that the very thin threat that held his bad temper from exploding had broken, "Will you also enlighten me with your wisdom to know what I have to feel?"

"At least you could act like a man and get real, instead of concealing yourself in that room again! Wasnʼt she your wife? Then accept the facts and take charge!" Archie yelled boldly.

"What do you know about my feelings?" responded Terri, fury already flaming in his eyes.

"Gentlemen! This is not a moment to argue among us! Please!" called Albert stepping in to stop the fight knowing that it was about to turn into a violent exchange, "You know well that Candy wouldnʼt be very proud of us if she were here."

Archie loosened then the grip of his fists, which were ready to find a target on Terriʼ face. Not finding words to say he just abandoned the room in silence, hoping that a walk around the neighborhood would help him to cool down his turmoil. The other two young men remained in silence for a while, each one bewildered and dismayed.

Albert fell on the couch resting his elbows on his knees and burying his face in his own hands. He felt that his last remains of force had extinguished in that moment. In his mind, while he silently cried without looking at Terri who sat by his side, the blond man reviewed his memories of the smiling girl he had met on Ponyʼs Hill. He saw again the blond child crying under the rain, the sweet girl that he had rescued from the waterfall, the broken hearted teenager that didnʼt know what to do when death took away someone she loved, the young rebel who ran away from school, but especially, the kind young woman who had helped him selflessly during the hard times when he was sick and nobody trusted in him, because he couldnʼt remember his past.

The young man remembered the times he had lived with Candy in that small apartment in Chicago, the countless good moments they had shared, the laughter and also the tears. Later, images from the years that followed flooded his mind, years in which the woman she had become, had helped him to face his loneliness and hated responsibilities.

"Candy, you had a beautiful smile," he thought, "and now. . . I will never see it again."

"Albert," called Terri addressing to the older man that cried silently next to him.

"Yes, Terri?" wondered the blond man turning to see his friend with the eyes transfigured by pain.

"What do you plan to do now?" the younger man asked.

"I . . . I suppose that we donʼt have any option," Albert stuttered, "weʼll have to notify our family, the ladies in the orphanage . . . all of our friends."

"Albert," Terrence said with a hopeful glance, his voice still hesitant, "I . . . I have a . . .kind of presentment . . . just give me a day. Let us wait a day more before we tell everybody."

"But Terri," Albert objected, "there isnʼt any hope now. She couldnʼt have survived in that storm."

"I know itʼs illogical," the younger man insisted, "yet, itʼs the only thing Iʼm asking you. . . Please."

Albert sighed, not really knowing if he was doing the right thing, but finally yielded assenting with a silent node.

========

​

"Mrs. Grandchester," said a shy female voice at the other side of the door, "I brought your dinner," the woman insisted knocking at the door, but received no answer, "Mr. Grandchester, please, you have to eat something!"

Suddenly, when the woman had already given up, the door opened and she ventured to enter into the dimmed bedroom.

"Just leave the tea and take the rest with you. Iʼm not hungry," a masculine voice ordered from the darkness.

"But, sir," the woman retorted, "I donʼt know your wife, but Iʼm sure she would be very worried and unhappy if she knew that you have barely eaten in three days."

"Just leave me alone, Bess," the young man replied hoarsely and the woman obeyed, but in spite of Terriʼs orders, she left the tray on a small table.

Terrence stood up from the bed and with lazy movements served himself a cup of black tea that he sobbed slowly while listening to his own heartbeats. What was going to happen the following morning? What was he going to do if Candy had died as everybody already believed?

Terri knew that waiting for another day could not make any difference because the only hope left was a ship that would arrive from Southampton the following morning. Nevertheless, he felt the need to wait, even if it didnʼt appear as a very reasonable idea.

The warm liquid bathed his dried throat while his mind twirled endlessly, making him feel in a hypnotic state. Nothing, no matter how hard he tried, could bring him calm. However, he wasnʼt anguished either, he hasnʼt even shed a single tear and he was not able to describe the mixtures of sensations he was experimenting. It was as though his life had stopped in the middle of nowhere.

"If she were dead," he told himself, "my heart would be freezing and that heavy load would have returned to bother me. Iʼm restless, but this is not the same sort of uneasiness I would bear if she were dead! Iʼm certain it is different. If she were dead the mere pain would kill me right here and now!" he sighed while pressing the crucifix in one of his hands.

The clock moved slowly during the late evening hours, but finally, as every day since this world began, the morning came with renewed hopes and promising light. The young man, with a strange attitude that even stunned himself, took a shower, shaved, changed clothes and for the, the cookʼs great surprise asked something for breakfast.

At 10 oʼclock in the morning Terri called Albert and Archie who were at the Astoria in order to tell them that he was on his ways to the docks once more. The two young men looked at each other in confusion, almost believing that the painful news had disturbed Terriʼs mind. Notwithstanding their astonishment, the Audreys decided to meet the young actor at the wharves, fearing that their friend would need someone by his side to help him face the reality he was obviously denying himself to accept.

When Albert and Archie arrived at the piers they were very surprised to see a different man from the one they had been with during the previous three days. Terri was still a little bit nervous and quiet but a lot more communicative and less gloomy as the previous days.

The men greeted each other and after the normal formalities had been said, Albert asked his friend the reason he had to ask them to meet at the docks, if they hadnʼt received any news from any of their contacts in England yet.

"Thereʼs a ship coming from Southampton that arrives every three weeks on Wednesday morning," was Terriʼs simple answer.

"And . . . ?" asked Albert confused.

"Well, today is Wednesday and the ship will be here in a few minutes, if it isnʼt on delayed," the young man explained calmly.

"Terri, youʼre not thinking that Candy may come in that ship, are you?" demanded Archie with a frown.

"I have a hunch," the brunette man simply responded.

Archie was going to protest but a slight movement on Albertʼs left eyebrow made him desist and close his mouth. So they simply remained in silence waiting for the shipʼs arrival.

A few minutes later the sound of a siren erupted in the air and they could see how a small ship entered the port with a slow rhythm. Then, when the vesselʼs silhouette could be clearly observed in the horizon, Terriʼs heart jumped upside down making him feel a soft warmth creeping through his pores despite the cold weather.

"She is coming," he said with certainty.

"How can you say that, Terri?" wondered Archie more alarmed about Terriʼs sanity.

"I know it, Archie," the young man told his suspicious friend. "I understand it doesnʼt sound very logical, but I know she is coming in that ship just as I know Iʼm talking to you. Itʼs like a bond between the two of us . . . I donʼt know how to explain it, donʼt even try to do it because those things are just beyond human reason," And with these last words the man left his friends behind, trying to walk among the multitude that already crowded the piers where the ship was about to drop anchor.

On the shipʼs deck the passengers were already waiting and waving their hands with enthusiasm. Many of them were immigrants who were arriving to America with their dreams packed in a small suitcase, having left behind the sad memories of a devastated Europe. Others, were war veterans coming back home after being wounded in the front, sometimes without a member or permanently blinded. In any case, for most of the passengers that day was the beginning of a new life, either plenty of hopes or feared challenges.

After a few minutes, the ship finally anchored and the people began to descend. Terrence looked at every female face coming down the ship with desperate eyes. His blue apples wandered in the crowd until they met in the distance a golden mane that was blowing in the midday winter gust.

A woman standing on the piers felt how a careless hand pushed her aside and she turned to complain. Yet, she could only see how a young man continued his way pushing others with the same nonchalant air as the multitude also crushed him making it more difficult for him to advance.

Some meters from that spot a young woman was also desperately trying to move among the confusing throng in the opposite direction. On one hand she held a light luggage and with the other one she was trying to open up her way.

"Are you crazy, miss?" asked a man in front of her, annoyed by the young ladyʼs rude push on his back.

"Iʼm really sorry, sir," the woman tried to apologize with a dazzling smile and couple of sweet green eyes that the man could not resist, "I didnʼt mean to push you!"

"Donʼt worry miss, but take it easy, weʼll all get down there sooner of later," the man chuckled. "Just hold on a little bit."

"Iʼve been waiting for this moment for too long time, sir," the young woman replied smiling. "Now, if you excuse me, there is a young man over there who is also sick of waiting," and saying this last thing the girl made her way walking past the man.

"Terri!" she yelled feeling her heart going out of her throat, her eyes swelling at the manʼs figure, who was also fighting to reach her.

"Candy!" he screamed, the bitterness of the previous days totally forgotten at the sight of the woman running towards him. His heart had not lied to him, as it had never done it before. For a reason he ignored she had not even traveled in the S.S. Reveer, but in that moment the only thing he cared about was that she was alive and calling his name.

From a certain distance two other men tried to move among the crowd whilst they opened their mouth in disbelief at the sound of a familiar voice calling Terrenceʼs name.

"Terri!" she shouted, her arms spreading and throwing the suitcase to her feet while a couple of strong arms encircled her waist.

"Candy, my love," Terri said muffling his voice in Candyʼs curls that fell freely on her shoulders and back.

The screams and thousand voices around, the chilly breeze, the unpleasant smell of the docks, the nights without sleep, everything seemed to have disappeared leaving only the feeling of the young womanʼs warmth surrounding Terrence, as she flung her arms around his neck.

Candy clung to the manʼs body, stunned at the precise correspondence of her shape with the manʼs frame. Sensing his essence tickling at her nostrils and his muscles pressing her in his embrace, she couldnʼt avoid the need to search for his mouth in an almost unconscious movement, finding the young manʼs lips in half of the way, because he had also been looking for her kiss.

=======

​

"Oh, I missed you!" she mumbled, her words suffocated by the young manʼs avid lips over hers.

In the past, the young woman would have felt embarrassed being kissed in public, but in that moment she could only feel the urgent need to have him close, regardless the many witnesses that were around them. He was caressing her and she responded with equal love while their tears mixed in one single torrent. Not far away from them, the two Audreys had frozen, amazed at the undeniable and fortunate truth. Candy was well, save and back! Yet, Archie didnʼt know whether to feel happy because his old friend was alive, or broken-hearted seeing how the woman he had loved since his puberty, kissed passionately another man. A man who, to make matters worse, had the natural right to receive the ladyʼs attention because she was his wife.

"I canʼt believe weʼre together," the young woman murmured when the man released her lips to take some air, loosening the hug a bit. It was not until then that she realized he had been lifting her in his arms to match his height, her tiptoes barely brushing the floor. "This trip took so long and I was desperate to be with you again."

"Youʼre here. Thatʼs all that really matters to me," he replied as his eyes tried to memorize every line on the young womanʼs appearance that day, from the modest gray coat she was wearing to the bright smile on her lips. He told himself she was even more beautiful than the last time he had seen her. The young woman, on her own, looked at him with the same loving astonishment, using her fingers to brush the silken bangs that fell over the manʼs face.

"Your hair," she murmured giggling, "it grows so fast!"

"Donʼt start with that again, because I wonʼt have it cut. Iʼm not in the army any longer," he teased her with a chuckle, holding her face in his hands.

"I like you anyway," she responded smiling, a soft flush covering her cheeks.

"Not as much as I like you," he replied, kissing her once more but when he was indulging again in the caress, it came to his mind that Candyʼs relatives were waiting behind and he slowly broke the kiss, "Candy, though I would like to have you just for me during the next one hundred years I think there are two friends of yours who have been waiting for long time to see you again," he whispered pointing to Albert and Archie who were standing silently a few meters away.

"ALBERT!" the young woman cried in joy leaving her husband arms to hug the tall blond man, who shed some silent tears as he encircled her in his arms.

"Welcome to America, little one!" the man murmured huskily.

"Oh Albert! I needed you so much during all this time! Will you ever forgive me for leaving without telling you about my plans?" she asked looking at the kind blue eyes and discovering that they were red with tears.

"Thereʼs nothing to forgive, Candy!" he smiled.

"Why are you crying, Albert?" she wondered amazed, because she had never seen him so moved, "This is a happy day, come on!"

"Youʼre right," the man tittered letting her wipe his tears with a little handkerchief she got out from her coat, "this is a day to celebrate. Come on say hello to Archie, or heʼll get jealous if you donʼt give him some attention."

The young woman left Albertʼs arms and saw the young man with sandy strands looking at her, totally speechless. In the time a sigh lasts, Candy remembered her childhood and all the things she had shared with her cousin since they had met accidentally in a spring morning. Archie was, after all, one of the golden loops that linked her with the past and the people she had loved and lost. Naturally driven by the familiarity that related both of them the young woman smiled at his cousin and hugged him fraternally.

"I also missed you a lot, Archie," she said as she broke the embrace not noticing how the young man slightly trembled at her touch.

"I . . .we all feel the same about you," he said shyly, "Chicago is not the same without you."

"Thanks for coming to receive me, seeing you makes me feel as if Anthony and Stear were also here with me," she smiled and Archie understood that despite the new distances that separated him from the blonde, there will always be a special bond between them. Unfortunately, the young man knew it was not enough for him.

"Iʼm sure they are also here, somehow," he replied melancholically, "but please, stop running away like that because we wonʼt be able to stand another one of your surprises," he warned her teasingly, trying to ease the great nervousness that invaded him.

"I promise I will never leave my friends for so long again," she giggled, but then her eyes looked around searching for a face she didnʼt find, "Whereʼs Annie?" she asked perplexed.

"Well, she couldnʼt come with us because her mother had been a little sick, you see," Archie lied as it had been previously agreed, "nothing serious, but she didnʼt want to leave her alone. She will be waiting for you in Ponyʼs Home, for this Christmas. You promised to spend the holidays with us, remember?"

The young woman nodded smiling. Not a single shadow of doubt or suspicion had run across her heart and she simply believed what her cousin had told her.

"Candy, itʼs too crowded here," Terri said approaching his wife once she had greeted her relatives, "I think we all should get going," he suggested and she welcomed his motion letting him lay his arm around her shoulders. In Terriʼs embrace she was already feeling at home.

=======

​

In the way to Mrs. Bakerʼs house, the three men explained to the young woman that they had believed she had died. The blonde was shocked to hear that the ship in which she was supposed to arrive had sunk in the Atlantic. Candy had effectively got a ticket to travel in the S.S. Reveer, but when she was already in Liverpool she had met a man who was desperately trying to get a ticket to America. Apparently, this manʼs mother was about to die and he wanted to arrive to New York as soon as possible to say his last farewell. Despite all his efforts, the man hadnʼt been able to find any place available, and he had been told that he had to wait for about a week.

Moved by this manʼs personal tragedy and following her selfless nature, the young woman had offered him her own ticket. Thankful for the remarkable favor, the man promised Candy that he would personally warn her relatives about her delayed arrival. Once the man had left, Candy considered it unnecessary to send a telegram with the news and simply devoted her time to look for another way to go back to America. Thus, she traveled to Southampton hoping to find another alternative that could take her back home the sooner the better. After a few days of unfruitful search, she had finally found an old second class passenger and cargo ship and she had left the port on December the 4th.

"Were there any survivors?" Candy asked, not able to avoid feeling worried for the man who had taken her place.

"Yes, ten men only, but I donʼt think I could tell you their names. We were so worried about you that I didnʼt ask more about them," Albert told Candy in serious tone. His voice had recovered his normal rhythm and collectedness.

"We could ask the British Embassy later on, if you want," Terri suggested.

"Oh yes, please. I would feel terribly sad if he had died in my place," the young woman stated melancholically.

"Letʼs hope heʼs fine, but if not, you shouldnʼt feel guilty. You did him a favor. There was not a way you could have known that the ship was going to sink. This sort of things are part of life and we have to accept them," Albert pointed out with his usual practical wisdom.

"Yes, and this time your good heart saved your life. I wonʼt complain about that," Terry commented kissing Candy on the cheek spontaneously. The young woman blushed lightly forgetting temporarily about the matter.

=========

​

Candy was so blissfully happy again among the people she loved that she didnʼt notice Archieʼs quietness and believed the excuse that he and Albert had given to her when she wondered why Annie hadnʼt traveled with them to New York. She talked and talked during the meal making plans for the holidays while she enjoyed Terriʼs soft caresses on her hand. She decided that she wanted to spend Christmas at Ponyʼs Home and to be back in New York for the New Year in order to be with Mrs. Baker, who felt very surprised to be included in her daughter in lawʼs plans.

Therefore, the Audreys determined that they would leave for Chicago the following day, so that they could arrange the details for the Christmas dinner at Pony Hill, and the Gandchesters would stay for Candy to rest for a few days, and then they would join their friends in Lakewood. After dinner, Albert, Archie and George said their farewells because they would leave in an early train the following morning and they immediately parted for their hotel. Later that evening, the Grandchesters also left Mrs. Bakerʼs.

With her usual vivacity the young woman looked through the car window admiring the lights of the city, the whitened urban landscape of the snowed streets and the Christmas ornaments in Central Park. The man by her side looked at her in silence, half overwhelmed by the still unbelievable truth and half anxious to see her reaction when they arrived to their house in New Jerseyʼs suburbs.

The car reached Washington Bridge and the young lady even opened the window to feel the cold wind over the Hudson as they crossed the river on the large bridge. A few minutes after, it was clear that they had left the skyscrapers land to enter into a residential neighborhood with green front lawns, white porches and facades full of Christmas lights and seasonal ornaments. The car turned on Columbus Drive and finally got into the paved path of one of those large houses. Before the automobile entered the garage, the blonde asked the chauffeur to stop the car and she got out immediately, standing in the middle of the yard to fully observe the place that would be her home for long years.

=======

​

Her emerald eyes wanted to memorize every single line, light and shadow of that picture in front of her, to cherish it as the first impression of the building that would become a home the moment she stepped inside. She looked with amazement at the three stored house with tiled roof , small front porch, French windows with wooden shutters and red poinsettias ornamenting the sills that contrasted with the white exterior walls. She saw that there was an attic on the third floor, oak trees all around the front and back yard and some rose bushes that would bloom during the spring. In that moment she knew the place was perfect for raising the children she already dreamt about. She turned her face smiling and Terri breathed released. She didnʼt need to say it for him to understand that the house had pleased her absolutely. Yet, Candy was so in love that the humblest cottage would have appeared like a palace for her eyes.

"Itʼs cold out here," she said with glittering eyes, extending her left arm to offer him her hand, "letʼs get in."

He smiled back and, taking her hand, walked with her towards the front door. He opened it and she entered the threshold with the heart pumping so loudly that she thought it could awake their neighbors even when there was a good deal of terrain between a house and the other. But the surprises had not ended for her, when she walked into the hall and turning right she got to see the living room her mouth opened in a gasp when she saw the fire place, the furniture and every single detail in it.

"Terri!" she called him still in shock, "This room . . . it is exactly like the one. . ."

"In my fatherʼs house in Scotland," he helped her to end, "Yes, I tried to do my best to reproduce it as close as possible. Do you think I did a good job?" he asked smiling leaning on the doorʼs frame.

"I would say that it is perfect," she giggled turning again to see the fire place, still stunned with the picture, while her mind flew to the years of her adolescence.

He slowly walked towards her, gazing her quiet silhouette standing in the middle of the living room, staring curiously all around the place. Even wrapped in the woolen overcoat her waist looked impossibly slender and he could engross his eyes in the delicate curve of her hips. When he got close enough he fluttered his hands over her shoulders whispering at her ear in a soft rumor.

"Welcome home, my love!"

The words caressed her creamy skin making her quiver at the sound of every syllable.

They remained still for a while, the young man standing behind the blonde while she looked at the chimney, both of them understanding the words that didnʼt have to be said. Later, she undid the buttons of her coat and he helped her to take it off, placing it along with his trencher on a nearby hanger. She walked silently reaching the starting step of the stair case that led to the second floor, and she clearly felt when Terriʼs hand took her by the waist as both of them climbed towards their bedroom.

He guided her along the corridor to the master bedroom and when she opened the door she was pleasantly surprised by a large chamber all decorated in white that contrasted with the wooden furniture and some blue accents here and there. In other circumstances she would have spent long time admiring every detail in the bedroom, from the large windows covered with lace and velvet curtains to the canopy bed. But the warm presence by her side didnʼt let her think about anything else but the intimate encounter that she clearly knew was about the take place. She felt his breathing in her nape and how he tenderly made her turn, so that she was in front of him. A feeling of déjà vu filled her heart and made her tremble with anticipation.

=======

​

He held her close in a way that he could murmur at her ear with the most gentle tone and she could still hear his susurration clearly.

"Iʼve been so afraid," he confessed in a suffocated mutter, "I felt that you were alive, somewhere, but all the evidence said that you were dead! I was so dazed, not knowing if I should believe in the voices within my soul or in the objective proves confirming that I had lost you for ever."

The young woman tilted her face to drown into the greenish blue eyes that were looking at her from watery depts. She lifted her hand and caressed the manʼs cheek with all the sweetness of her loving heart and raising herself on tiptoes she grazed Terriʼs cheek with a soft kiss as her arms embraced his neck.

"Itʼs O.K., my love," she whispered in his ear, "everything will be just fine, from now on," she reassured him tenderly.

The stayed locked in the embrace, not saying a word, like simply savoring their mutual warmth as the last remains of fears melted inside.

"You know," he finally told her loosening his tie and taking the chain he had underneath the shirt, "I think this little thing is yours. I must admit it truly works," he added giving her the crucifix.

"Then, I also have something I should give you back," she replied and totally unaware of the subtle seduction implied in her movements, she undid the first couple of buttons of her blouse to get the silver chain and the emerald ring, which she gave back to its owner. The young man smiled and took the ring, carelessly leaving it on a nearby table, more concerned about the naked neck that had been exposed to his eyes.

"You are the jewel I was really interested in recovering," he told Candy hugging her again. Terri buried his face in the womanʼs fair mane while her rose fragrance penetrated his nostrils arousing in him a renewed frenzy.

"Your fragrance . . ." he said with a hushed breath inhaling deeply her hairʼs essence, " the silky touch of your skin . . . Please, call me again that I need to here it endlessly to believe that you are here with me."

"Terry," she mumbled, "I am truly here, Terri. The separation is over . . . Terri."

=======

​

"Your taste . . ." he said before his lips covered hers with increasing zest. The man delved into the womanʼs mouth earnestly, not able to control his impulses anymore, and Candy felt her body surrounded by a heat that was beginning to grow from her abdomen, making her feel dizzy while Terriʼs arms and hands crushed her curves at will. She closed her eyes and abandoned herself to the indulging feeling as his mouth explored hers liberally. She responded to his caresses with the same passion.

"I have wanted you so badly that my body ached for not having you to pour this passion," he mumbled while his mouth plunged hungrily into her neck. The young woman could clearly feel how her body yielded to her husband advances, following his lead, giving and taking in a loving exchange. They walked to the bed with slow pace, nervously taking off the pieces of clothes that had become useless.

Terriʼs lips arched into a smile bathed with mirth whilst they flew with frenzied anxiety over every inch of astonishingly white skin, as his hands unveiled the feminine body. He smiled and chuckled softly, muffling his hoarse laughter in the mysterious valley where his wifeʼs heart beat agitatedly. He sensed her strong pumps under the voluptuous forms he was already savoring with avid hunger. She was alive, she was there, giving herself to him, once more. They were together, they were at home. The smile grew even wider and the joy reached new heights.

Candy had to admit that she had desired that moment with all her might. She had dreamt of him taking her body the way he was doing it right then, but being honest, she understood her dreams couldnʼt compete with reality. She remembered their first night together in Paris and she could clearly sensed this time everything would be different. He was undressing her with fast hands at the same time he consumed in his firing lips every single millimeter of her skin as he uncovered her body. This time he was more eager, almost desperate and she was not afraid, but equally wishful to take and be taken.

The long months they had been away from each other, the anguishing wait, the idea of her being dead, the nightmares she had suffered when he was fighting in Argonne . . .. all those mournful fears that chased them and all those young urges, repressed for so long, collided in a second and together they gave birth to a new bonfire. The flare ignited breaking into nervous sparkles and finally opened passion was reborn, more intense, bolder, franker, fearless . . . without any boundaries but the loving desire that moved them to please one another.

Trapped into the sound of a magic chord that only their hearts could hear, the two bodies did not take long before they could again share their warmth. Outside, a dancing fleet of light snowflakes began to fall over the neighborhood, and the winter cold froze the few dead leaves over the oaks on the back yard. But the houseʼs owners were totally unaware of the chilling wind that swept over their roof, because in their intimate chamber, their nude bodies warmed up at the tender heat of their embrace, while their limbs braided one with the other under the protective bed covers and the fire in the chimney lit the darkness of the white room.

His body covered her curved silhouette as every one of his members found a match in hers. His palms met hers, smaller and softer, and each of his fingertips kissed hers, igniting her skin. His right index felt the wedding ring on her finger telling him with its metal touch that it was not a dream. He was making love to his wife on the bed where he had dreamt of her with hopeless pain so many times. She was beneath him enjoying his loving moves inside her, totally yielding to the feelings they shared and he was being caressed by her in the most intimate and intense fashion a woman can do it.

By the passion expressed in her soft moans he knew then that his woman was ready to know in his embrace the most daring caresses love can inspired. He smiled again knowing that they still had to learn together many new ways to please each other. But they were not in a hurry, the evening was young and after that night many other nights would come. So they made love to each other, irreverently, in the fresh and pure way they only could conceive to love and being loved, in a way that could have scandalized the puritans and the wimps of those times, in the way God first designed love in his total perfection.

They gave themselves to each other, they laughed and teased and talked and trusted each otherʼs secrets, shared their internal music and traveled in the tides of peaceful sleep. The first, absolute and total sleep he enjoyed in a long, long time. His last memory was of the light load of a golden head that rested on his bare chest and the quiet sound of Candyʼs sleeping breath.

=======

​

She woke up in the middle of the night a little bewildered at first, unable to recognize the place where she was. Then, she felt the arms around her and the slow breathing of the man sleeping by her side. She laughed at herself when she understood that she was at home.

She sat on the bed and contemplated the sight of the young man abandoned to his dreams, which she guessed were pleasant, because he seemed very calm and deeply asleep. She observed in silence the delicate line of his profile and the silky hair that reached his neck, flaring with the already shy flames in the fire place. The young woman bent her head and lightly deposit a kiss on the manʼs cheek.

"Sweet dreams, Terri," she muttered.

The blonde looked around the dimmed room and an idea came across her mind. She walked slowly towards one of the doors hoping that it would the bathroom an for her luck she was right. Some minutes later she came out of the shower wrapped with a white towel and with her unruly mane falling in wet curls over her shivering and half naked back. The woman dried her hair with the towel and started wondering where the chauffeur could have left her suitcase. She looked all around but didnʼt find it anywhere.

"Great!" she told herself, "now Iʼm naked, cold and my nightgowns are lost."

It was then when she observed that there was a large chest next to the bedʼs footboard. On top of it, a set of clean pajamas had been left, perhaps by the maid. Thinking that at the moment anything would be better than nothing, the young woman decided to try the pajamas. However, when she realized they were too big for her, she simply put on the shirt and left the pants aside. An oversized pair of leathered slippers that she found next to the chest completed her funny outfit.

Candy left the bedroom and went towards the first floor, turning on the lights as she walked along the halls and down the stair case. The young woman looked all around with curious eyes. She had made up her mind to have her own personal tour around her house since her husband had not let her have a good look when she had arrived.

She walked past the living room and continued through the dining room and then the kitchen, realizing how big the place was and wondering how long it would take to clean it. She had heard that Terri had some people who looked after the house and she wondered how it would be for her to rule a house with servants and all. It was funny, but even though Candy had lived as an Audrey for some time, she had never had to manage a household. Life was much simpler just having a small apartment she could look after by herself, but of course, her tiny place would not have been quite proper to raise a family.

"How does grandmother Aylo do to deal with so many people?" she inquired and then she couldnʼt avoid a giggle imagining herself in the old ladyʼs shoes, ordering around with a haughty nose and a deep frown. "No, I donʼt think I could ever be like her," she concluded grinning while glancing at the kitchen items and decoration.

She wandered around the rooms for a good while, finding out that the other bedrooms upstairs were unfurnished and the attic was practically empty. She continued her tour until she discovered a room that, unlike the rest of the house, had a particular character which spoke about the owner with undeniable fidelity.

There was a large bookcase with glass panels, a stone fire place decorated with tartans over the hood and a couple of cabinets full of papers, more books and all sort of curious souvenirs, surely collected from Terriʼs continuous trips along the country. In one of the corners and just next to a window, there was an elegant desk with a typewriter, some other piles of papers over it and a few pens with other stationery items buried among the papers. Opposite the chimney, there was a couch that matched with the rest of the furniture upholstery and a Persian rug over the polished parquet. Three floor lamps placed on strategic points along with a chandelier, lightened the room and a phonograph rested over a small table ending the composition.

Candy snooped around for a while until her eyes were caught by a scale model ship which decorated the chimneyʼs mantel shelf. She got closed to it and her green eyes opened in amazement when she realized it was a model of a transatlantic. The young womanʼs eyes swept the tiny first class deck while the memories flooded her mind.

"I canʼt believe this," she told herself deeply moved whilst her finger tips touched the toy with gentle gesture, "I never thought he would remember those things so clearly. . . . This is the ship where we first met!"

Candy stood there, looking at the small transatlantic for a while until she felt tired and decided to take a rest, sitting down in the arm chair which was surely Terriʼs place while he worked. As the normally curious woman she was, the blonde couldnʼt hold herself for long before she ended up prying at the papers that covered the desk. She found a copy of "The taming of the shrew" all full of underlined sentences and notes at the margins with a handwriting she knew pretty well. Next to the script, there was a business diary with a list of appointments, mostly rehearsals already scheduled for January.

"Talk about being busy," she thought, "I guess Iʼll have to find myself a job, pretty soon."

The girl continued her inspections until she came across a manuscript, which was obviously a play, but mostly hand written.

"Letʼs see, what could this be?" she said aloud reading the title, "Reencounters . . . I have never heard about such a play."

"Donʼt you know that sneaking at other peopleʼs private belongings is not very kind?" asked a masculine voice with annoyed accent that made the blonde jump as she gasped.

"Terri!" the woman protested, "You scared me!" she told the man who was standing up in front of her, dressed only with the pajamas pants she had left on the chest.

"Thatʼs exactly the result I was looking for!" he chortled amused at Candyʼs stunned face, "Didnʼt Miss Pony ever tell you that a lady


doesnʼt snoop around as you were doing?"

"Very funny!" she responded showing her tongue, "I just . . ." she hesitated, "I just couldnʼt sleep, thatʼs all."

"And you thought that my studio would be a good place to amuse yourself. Iʼm really mad at you Mrs. Grandchester," he scolded her with a serious frown.

The young woman looked at him reading the mischief in his iridescent eyes and decided to follow the game he had started. She didnʼt even notice it, but she unconsciously began to take advantage of the sweet powers women use to soften men.

"Come on, donʼt pout like that," she said with dulcet voice standing up and walking slowly towards him, "youʼll get wrinkled and ugly if you make a fuss for nothing," she smiled charmingly while caressing softly the manʼs naked chest. "Say you arenʼt mad," she begged playfully.

"I am," he resisted, yet he was already holding her in his arms.

"Say you arenʼt mad," she repeated and the man, already melted marshmallow, yielded at the kiss she had started.

"How could I . . .?" he gave up tightening the embrace.

"Oh, Terri, youʼre so sweet," the woman giggled playing with his hair when their lips had parted.

"Really? And what did I do to deserve that compliment?" the man asked diverted.

"Well, lots of things but the last one I discovered was this one," she said pointing to the scale transatlantic.

"Ah, I see!" he responded realizing what she was meaning, "Itʼs funny. When I got this toy I never imagined that you would see it."

"Really?" the woman commented confused, "I thought you had just bought it to give me a surprise."

"Nope, sorry to disappoint you madam, but . . .it was," he hesitated scratching his temple, "…it was a sort of caprice I got for myself when I bought this house, like a reminder."

"You mean you acquired the ship in the time you . . ." she tried to say but then interrupted herself in the middle of the sentence.

"The answer is yes," he replied understanding what she wanted to mean, "during the time I was engaged with Susannah," he said reluctantly. "This was the sort of senseless things I used to do because of you," the man added in a lighter tone.

"Terri," she mumbled puzzled.

"Letʼs see if I can explain it to you," the young man responded taking the girlʼs hand and leading her to the couch, where she sat while he lit the fire place, "You once told me that you thought about me when we were separate, even if you didnʼt want to do it. Am I right?"

"Very true."

"Well, it happened the same with me and for some time I fought the feeling, thinking that I had to forget everything related with you," Terri went on whilst the fire started to crackle in the chimney and he sat next to her, "Later, I realized that it was impossible and decided that it was better to accept that, despite the distance and the circumstances, you would always be in my heart. Then, when I got this house that I believed would be a home for Susannah, I secretly told myself that it would also be a place that could remind me that once I have known real love. So, I had built that living room like my fatherʼs parlor in his villa in Scotland, I got the ship which I found accidentally in a curiosity shop and a few more things. Just to have something that would talk to me about you everyday, and in that way I would always be near you, somehow. I know it was not very sensible, and it definitely didnʼt help me in my relationship with Susannah, but I just couldnʼt help it. One of my eccentricities, I guess. What do you think?" he concluded giving her a questioning look.

"I think I love you with all of those eccentricities, Terri," she replied sweetly, but then paused for a second.

"What?" he demanded curious.

"You mentioned that you also got other things," she replied inquiringly.

"Ah, so youʼre curious!" he chuckled, "Iʼd could tell you, but what would I gain if I trust you my little secrets?"

"I would pay you back with my own. Thereʼs a diary I wrote for you, which I could gladly trade for a confession from you," she blackmailed him.

Then it was Terriʼs turn to feel curious and he finally surrounded showing Candy the little details he had spread in the room. In one of the drawers, there was a coffer with the letters Candy had written to him from Chicago, and a set of scratched papers in which he wrote to the young woman as though he could have talked with her. In those lines he explained how he had selected a house as though it could be for her, with trees he would love to climb with her and close to small artificial lagoons, because she liked the view of the sunset over the waters. He also told the story of how he had found the reproduction of the ship where they had met and a record with the same waltz they first had danced.

Reading the things he had written and listening to his confession the young woman couldnʼt avoid a jolt in her heart, realizing at the same time how painful life had been for Terri during those times of separation, and also, how sad Susannahʼs luck had been, loving a man who was never able to love her in return with the same devotion. Fortunately, the young actor never told his wife that Susannah had found his secrets locked in the studio. Aware of Candyʼs sensitivity, Terri chose to keep that secret, knowing that there wasnʼt any use to trouble the young womanʼs noble heart with that sad memory. After all, the young man felt that the past mistakes, which nobody was able to mend, should be left behind.

"Oh Terri," she whispered when she ended reading, whilst a tear rolled over her cheek.

"Come on," he told her tenderly, afraid of having hurt her sensitive soul, "I didnʼt show you this to make you cry. Weʼre together now. Thatʼs what counts."

"I love you so much!" was the only thing she could say as she hugged him tightly, wishing to erase the past aches he had undergone.

He received her in his arms, rocking her softly, while their silent warmth helped them both to understand that the last sad passages had already been written, it was up to them to continue the story in a better way. They remained embraced for a while, but a second later he remembered about the diary she had promised to give him.

"You owe me something, as I remember, and I want to be paid, now!" he demanded in a lighter tone.

"Just let me get it," she replied coming out of the studio and running downstairs to the living room, where she had left her handbag. When Candy came back, she joined the courage to explain to her husband that she had lied to him, or rather, hidden the truth about the time she had been working in the field hospital, during her last days in France. The young man listened to her and then read in silence the pages of the diary.

"So . . ." she prompted him when he had finished the reading, "will you forgive me for lying to you?"

"Candy, you were risking your life and denied me the right to know it," he responded reproachfully.

"I know it, Terri, but I didnʼt want you to be worried about me," she replied lowering her eyes.

"Will you do that every time you have a problem? Will you hide it just for me not to worry about you?" he asked seriously, standing up and leaving the diary over the desk clearly displeased with the idea. Sensing that this time he was not playing, she followed him trying to find the way to make him forget about the matter.

"I promise I wonʼt, love. It was just this time because there wasnʼt anything you could do for me. It would just have made your days in the front more difficult," she responded with mellow tone as she drew little circles with her index finger over the young manʼs chest.

"Donʼt do that!" he told her, a slight smile appearing in his face.

"Do what?" she wondered, her lips already tickling his ears.

"Melt my defenses like that," he chuckled.

"Do I?" she said with muffled voice. "Does it mean your forgive me?"

"It means thereʼs nothing to forgive. I understand you did it because you love me. Just donʼt do it again . . . and," he paused, interrupted by a full kiss on his lips.

"And . . . "

========

​

"And you are a little freckled witch full of tricks!" he said lifting her by the waist, taking the woman to lie on the couch, where they continued their loving games until they felt too cold and went back to the warmth of their bed.

"Terri," she asked cuddling in his arms.

"Huhh?" he replied already half asleep.

"Whatʼs that handwritten play in your studio?" she wondered, "the one entitled Reencounters."

"Did you read that?" he asked surprised.

"Just the title," she responded with innocent eyes, "Did I do something I shouldnʼt?"

"Well, not exactly. Itʼs . . .," he paused, "Itʼs something I wrote. . . like a surprise for you. But I still have to finish a few little details," he explained.

"You wrote a play?!" she jumped on the bed opening her eyes so widely that Terri thought he would drown in a green lagoon, "I never thought that you were interested in becoming a writer!"

"Itʼs just a kind of experiment," he told her tittering, "I donʼt know if Iʼll ever get to be considered as a writer, itʼs only one of those things one has to try at least once."

"Like the first time Albert went to Africa, I guess," she replied resting her head on his chest, "though you never know where those experiments can lead."

"I think Iʼll take the risk," he responded. "Itʼs not a big deal and I donʼt even know if it will have good acceptance. Critics can be very tough with new writers," he explained with a hint of insecurity.

"And what would be more important for you?" she asked curious, "the criticsʼ opinion or the publicʼs?"

He smiled at her, understanding that her apparently naïve comment had a sage undertone.

"Food for thought, huh?" he said kissing her forehead.

"Perhaps, but thereʼs something you havenʼt explained," she went on, "you said you wrote the play as a surprise for me. Does it mean you dedicate it to me?" she asked with a soft smile.

"Yes, to annoying freckle girl with love," he responded chortling as he caressed her cheek with the back of his hand.

"Hey, that doesnʼt sound very romantic," she complained.

"Ummmm, I might think about changing it, but you have to inspire me," he insinuated with a malicious glance.

"Like this?" she wondered kissing him on the cheek.

"Rather feeble try. You could do it better," he replied teasingly, "I meant like this," he said taking her by surprise and kissing her lips. She responded to his embrace forgetting for a while about her curiosity.

"Wait," she finally said interrupting the caress, "when will I be able to read the play?"

"Soon, when I finish it. I promise that youʼll be the first one to do it, but now keep on convincing me. Iʼll give you time till dawn."

 

[domniki]

Part III

At home

A thick white cape covered the landscape that the limousine crossed slowly. It was a sunshiny morning and the light reflected on the snow sparkled among the woods. The old lady was sitting on her rocking chair while she worked on the embroidery she had in her hands. With diligent fingers she moved the needle creating complicating figures while adding one stitch to the other. She knew time was almost up and she had to work steadily if she wanted to have her work done and ready for the due day.

The sound of young and feminine steps could be heard in the hall and a second later someone knocked at the door with an urgent air.

"Come in, dear," called the old lady and a young woman with black hair held in a pony tail and beautifully ornamented with silken ribbons entered the room.

"Miss Pony!" called the girl panting excited. "She is coming! The car just turned the curve!"

"My Goodness, Annie! Are you sure?" asked the lady leaving aside the frame in which she was working.

"Absolutely! Come with me Miss Pony. Letʼs go out to receive her!" the young brunette said offering her delicate hand to the old woman, who held it with nervous gesture, as both women went out of the room towards the main entrance.

"Are you fine my dear?" Miss Pony asked while they were walking through the corridor, feeling that Annieʼs hand faltered.

"Itʼs just that Iʼm nervous. I donʼt know if Iʼll be able to pretend that everything is fine between Archie and I," she confessed.

"Donʼt worry, my child," Miss Pony reassured the young woman, "Weʼll all help you with your plans. Sister Lyn and I are very proud of your courage."

Annie nodded, silently thanking Miss Pony for her support.

Outside, a small crowd was already gathered on the yard. The older children helped the younger ones to climb on the fence so they could better see the luxurious car that was approaching the house. Sister Lyn observed in silence clutching a handkerchief with both hands as though she wanted to squeeze some juice out of it. Annie and Miss Pony joined the group and the old lady cleaned her glasses with her apron, trying to descry what that pink spot was, like a flag fluttering in the wind, hanging from one of the carʼs windows.

As the car got closer Miss Pony could perceive that the flying pink banner was a chiffon scarf that ornamented an elegant hat over a blond mane, which curls also waved in the air.

"Itʼs our Candy, Sister Lyn!" Miss Pony whimpered, her voice fading with the many screaming voices that greeted the new comers. A woman wrapped in a fine pink and gray outfit got out of the vehicle helped by a tall young man with brown hair and distinguished demeanor.

Other two blond men also descended from the car, but even though the children smiled and greeted them with warm kindness, it was obvious that the center of all the attention that morning was the blond young woman with glittering green eyes, who kissed every rosy cheek that received her with innocent affection. Some of the children had never seen her before, because they had become pensioners of the house during the time the young woman had been absent, but they have heard the stories about the brisk leader whose memory was always in every mouth of those who dwelled Ponyʼs Home.

When the young woman had greeted every single child, she began to walk towards the figures that were waiting for her at the house entrance. The green irises looked at the three so different women whose prayers had supported her during the trials she had lived in France. It was almost a dream to see those smiling faces, those loving glances she had missed with all her heart. Dear and unforgettable faces she had loved since her childhood, who were there, greeting her and mutely saying welcome to your home land, Candice White.

"Candy!" cried Miss Pony with hoarse voice, stepping forward a few feet. The young woman ran towards the old lady, with her emerald eyes flooded with tears.

"Miss Pony! Miss Pony!" shouted Candy to the winter air, "Itʼs me, Miss Pony! Candy! Iʼm back!" the blonde repeated in sobs as she reached the womanʼs arms, feeling again as a tiny girl who had just woke up from a nightmare, finding that she was in her motherʼs arms.

"My child! My beloved child!" cried Miss Pony hugging Candy tenderly.

"Candy, my little rascal!" called Sister Lynʼs voice and Candy spread her arms to include the nun in the embrace.

"Sister Lyn! Miss Pony! My mothers! My dear mothers!" was all that Candy could say, feeling that pain existed in the world only to teach us to better appreciate the happy moments we share with those we love.

The three women stayed there for a good while until their eyes had apparently shed all the tears they had suppressed in almost two years.

Then, the older women loosened the girl to observe her better. She looked a bit taller and thinner. The days of hard work had surely debilitated her a bit, making her cheeks a bit paler and accentuating her already incredibly white skin. However, she still preserved that energetic bearing and the natural pink that colored her lips. Besides, there was new sparkling luster in her green eyes that the ladies had never known in Candy before, which made her look dazzlingly beautiful. It was a sort of refreshing aura that invaded the young womanʼs presence and infected everyone around her with an unexplainable sensation of cheerfulness and content.

"You look so beautiful and so distinguished, my child!" was all that Miss Pony could say before the slender figure of a young brunette approached the trio.

"Annie! My dear Annie!" said Candy walking forward to embrace her childhood friend.

The young brunette embraced Candy with desperate gesture and thinking that the moment bestowed her the perfect excuse, she gave free reign to her sorrows in her best friendʼs arms. Annie cried openly, feeling that the source of strength she had missed for so long had finally come back to her. Nevertheless, Annie was not planning to vent all her grief on Candyʼs shoulders like in the past. On the contrary, she was determined to hide her problems from the blonde and face them on her own. Yet, just to feel Candy by her side, gave Annie new courage to continue on the way she had chosen and crying in Candyʼs arms, even if it was only for a short while, was a sort of liberation that Annie needed urgently.

"Oh Candy! I missed you so much! We all were so worried for you, stubborn girl!" Annie said sobbing softly, still clung to Candyʼs neck.

"Donʼt reproach me now, Annie! I didnʼt want to made you guys suffer for my cause. Itʼs just that I had to be there. I didnʼt know it when I left, but I had an appointment with destiny that I couldnʼt miss. You understand, donʼt you?" asked Candy trying to see into Annieʼs eyes.

"Itʼs true, Candy." Annie admitted with a shy smile that lightened her face like the sun in a rainy day, "Iʼm so happy to see you, that I just canʼt stop crying!" she added among her sobs.

"Come on, donʼt be such a cry baby and letʼs get into the house. I brought lots of present for all of you," the blonde said smiling and the whole crowd behind followed her into the walls of Ponyʼs Home. The huge dog that Candy had inherited from her first patient, despite her old age, jumped among everybodyʼs legs showing her great joy for the arrival of her one and only mistress, after such a long, long time.

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​

Christmas at Ponyʼs Home had never been so perfect for Candyʼs eyes since the days when Annie and Tom lived with her in the house. Miss Pony and Sister Lyn looked exactly the same as the young blonde remembered them before her departure to France, but their faces showed an additional cheerfulness born from the rare luxury of having all of their dearest children together. Albert was radiant, liberation and satisfaction transpiring from his every pore, which made Candy feel utterly happy for him. Mr. Cartwright and Jimmy joined the crew that same day, and the young woman was pleasantly surprised to find that the boy was growing up so fast that he almost looked like an adult. Annie and Archie were there too and to make things even better, Patty, Tom and Mrs. Martha OʼBrien arrived also during the morning. But the icing on the cake was surely the fact that the man she loved was by her side and that inside her she was beginning to feel how a new hope began to grow. It was just a presentment, but she barely could refrain her secret joy.

It was impossible to witness the charming scenes in the small building and not feeling warm and cozy with the domestic picture. All the ladies participated to prepare the Christmas dinner. Miss Pony baked her famous Christmas pie. Sister Lyn made her special filling to stuff the turkeys which Candy sacrificed with a fearless and steady hand. Annie prepared the salad, Patty the most delicious smashed potatoes and Grandmother Martha took charge of the punch with the dangerous result that the mischievous old woman made it a little bit too strong, at least for the ladiesʼ taste.

During the afternoon the three young women ornamented the huge Christmas tree that Albert had bought in Lakewood. Candy climbed on a chair and then on the chimney with natural and easy movements to crown the tree top with a twinkling star, while her two friends looked at her in amusement. Later on, the whole troop joined in the living room to listen to the blonde as she narrated her stories about a stubborn young nurse with brown eyes who found her own way in France, a brave doctor who saved a girlʼs life in a dark trench, or a truck that got stuck in the snow.

Sitting next to the young woman, Terri listened in silence, while many young eyes inspected him with distrustful glances. The oldest children had not digested the idea of Candy being married yet, and still were considering if they were going to approve and accept this new member of Ponyʼs family, whose every movement seemed to be surrounded by an unconscious classy air, quite similar to Mr. Cornwellʼs ways, but with a distinctive additional insolence.

However, the invisible threats that united the man with the blonde were so strong that the children, being the sensitive beings they always are, slowly perceived that nobody who could love Candy with such an evident intensity would ever be someone they should reject. The ice finally broke when the young woman told the kids that Terri had fought in the Front, statement that was received with the most astonished faces, including Jimmyʼs own, and followed by a great deal of questions that the young man answered gladly. Terri was a natural story teller and with quick mind he selected those chunks of reality that could be interesting to be heard and not too harsh for the young ears. Soon, the whole audience, children and adults included, was totally engrossed in the narration, captivated by the experienced manʼs voice, who knew how to reach peopleʼ hearts and seduce them with its rich repertory of modulations.

Everybody was so involved into Candy and Terriʼs anecdotes that only Annie noticed when Archie left the room with a sad shadow crossing his eyes. The young brunette sighed imperceptibly and made a great effort to concentrate again in the conversation. Despite her broken heart, she had decided that it was better to leave Archie alone with his personal demons.

The young man walked absentmindedly along the narrow wooden hall with the hands buried in his pockets. In his mind, he remembered the multiple scenes he had witnessed during those days, in which Candy openly showed her affections for her husband. Caring and loving as she had always been, the young woman didnʼt let go any opportunity to look at Terrence with adoring eyes, regale him with a special smile, laugh with him as though they shared secret jokes that only they could understand with a glance or, when she thought nobody was watching, fondle him tenderly and sometimes with a hint of passion. The young actor, on his own, didnʼt waste the chance to hold the young womanʼs hand or steal a quick kiss despite her consequent blush.

Archieʼs guts boiled with jealousy and pain with every one of those public exchanges, but unknowingly, with each new proof of Candyʼs love for Terri, the young millionaire began to feel that an enormous wall start to grow and separate him from that woman who was so madly in love with another man. Yet, his chest still ached so deeply that it was impossible to watch stoically.

"Will I ever learn to forget this feeling, Candy? . . . This love that life has turned forbidden . . This one sided love that has never brought me more than yearning and bitterly sweet memories and now pays me back with indifference," the young man told himself and breathing deeply in order to regain courage, he went back into the living room.

======

​

Before dinner three new guests arrived unexpectedly. They were Marvin Stewart and two other older men, one was short with gray beard and serene expression and the other tall and a bit overweighed. Terrence and Albert, who seemed to be the only people in the group that were not surprised by the visitors, introduced the gentlemen to the general audience.

"Mr. Stewart was my fatherʼs lawyer and now he manages my little fortune in England," explained Terri with simplicity, " I asked him to come to America in order to reorganize certain businesses of mine, but also to help me with an issue I didnʼt have the time to arrange before. But please do not look at me with those eyes, Candy," the young man said defending himself when he realized the womanʼs expression, " It is not exactly business that I want to talk about in this day, but it is about you and I. Albert thought that it was a good idea to arrange the things right here with all of you, dear friends."

"I still donʼt understand, Terri," the blonde responded with confused eyes.

"Well, as everybody already knows," Terri went on taking Candyʼs hands in his, "this young lady by my side, honored me by accepting to be my wife a few months ago, but our wedding in Paris was only of the religious kind. Even though I donʼt care too much about social conventions, I thought it was proper and practical to get legally married, as well. This is why these gentlemen are here with us. So, Candy, would you like to be my wife by the American and British laws?"

Candyʼs eyes softened with the last words, but not knowing how to react to the unexpected proposal she went mute.

"Candy! You are supposed to say yes!" Sister Lyn said unable to refrain her usual admonitory tone.

The young woman reacted with the nunʼs scolding, laughing at herself and the group joined her with amusement. A few minutes later the ceremony took place in the same living room. The young men amused themselves looking at the ladies, who had all reacted with the same tearful mood, crying silently as the Justice of Piece recited the usual phrases. Miss Pony and Sister Lyn could hardly believe what they were witnessing, and their minds flew together to the times when a little four-year old Candy erupted noisily into the same room where she was about to sign a marriage certificate.

"It seems that it was just yesterday when she was just a tiny little thing. Donʼt you think Miss Pony?" the nun whispered to the old ladyʼs ear.

"And now!!! She is a grown up woman!!" Miss Pony responded among quiet sobs.

While the ladies continued talking softly about their memories, the bearded old man went on with his discourse. The manʼs little eyes turned to see the young lady in front of him and with the same routine tone he asked her:

"Miss Candice White Audrey, do you accept Mr. Terrence Greum, Earl of Grandchester, baron of Suffolk, and Lord of Eastwood as your legitimate husband?"

The young woman frowned, astounded as she gave the young man a questioning look.

"I have forgotten to tell you these little details about me. Iʼll explain everything later,"

Terri muttered to the young womanʼs ears, "but now, please, just say you do," he pleaded with such a funny face that the girl couldnʼt withhold a smile.

"Of course, I do," she finally said to the old man who was beginning to feel weird before that couple that whispered secrets to each other in the middle of a formal moment.

After that little incident the ceremony continued normally, and both certificates were signed. Later, the three men were invited to join that original family during the dinner, which they accepted gladly. It was hard enough to be working on a holiday to additionally waste the opportunity of a good meal. Mr. Stewart, who was a man of formalities, took advantage of the relaxed moment that followed the ceremony to congratulate the newlyweds.

"My Lord, My Lady, I must express my most sincere congratulations," the man said punctiliously with a gentle nod.

"Thank you Mr. Stewart, but please, call me Candy as all my friends do," the girl responded offering the man her hand in a friendly gesture.

"Oh no, my Lady," the man replied emphatically, "Iʼve served the House of Grandchester since my youth, and before me, my father did it as well. I could never address any of its members with such familiarity. Please, excuse me, but you are now the Countess of Grandchester, and I will always treat you with the respect that you deserve, My Lady," the man concluded with a kind smile, kissing the young womanʼs hand.

Candy sighed in resignation but internally she forbore her laughter until she and Terri had the chance to be alone, very late that night. Then, in the intimacy of the bedroom, both of them joked and laughed at poor Stewardʼs excessive sense of formalities until they ran out of breath.

"Do you think grandmother Aylo will like me now that Iʼm a countess?" Candy asked among laughter.

"Maybe, if she doesnʼt care about me being an ʽindecentʼ actor," he chuckled getting rid of the jacket and the tie.

"Oh no, My Lord! How could your highness ever be indecent!" the woman replied sarcastically while undoing her braided bun, letting her blond curls fall in a cascade over her back.

"You are very right, My Lady. My familyʼs name should be enough to turn this pair of rascals that we are into a very respectful couple," he joked holding the girl in his arms, taking her by surprise.

"Though, I think My Lord does not have very decent intentions, now," she giggled feeling how he pulled down the strap of her bodice, caressing her bare shoulders.

"My intentions with you have always been legitimate?" he claimed in his defense as his eyes delighted on the generous view that the womanʼs neckline bestowed.

"Your hands and your eyes betray your words," the young woman riposted sensing Terriʼs fingers on her back.

"Would the countess let her husband love her tonight?" he asked smiling whilst hugging her even more tightly, his breath bathing her cheeks.

"There are children in next room!" she objected giggling, already fainting at his caresses.

"Then, weʼll be very quiet," he suggested bringing his lips upon hers. Her silent response to his kiss made him understand that she was not going to reject his offer.

He finished undoing the buttons of her bodice and a feminine hand turned off the single light that lit the room. The rest was discretely covered by the evening shadows.

========

​

The moon was just a thin arch beaming behind the nocturnal clouds that crossed the sky. The timid light barely broke the dimness in the modest bedroom, entering on tiptoes through the windowpane. The silence was just interrupted by a soft and rhythmical breathing and the occasional noise of the womanʼs body moving unconsciously under the bedcovers. He was sitting on the bed with relaxed air while he watched over his wifeʼs sleep.

Candyʼs capriciously curly hair covered the pillow and her nude back in a delicious disarray that he couldnʼt stop admiring. Inside him, the sweet warmth of their recent loving exchange still lingered over his skin and within his soul. It was such a pleasant sensation that, as odd as it could be, he couldnʼt get to sleep. His eyes stroke the dormant woman by his side trying to imagine the dreams she could be having. Then, he laughed at his possessiveness when he found himself wishing to be included in her subconscious images during her sleep.

The young man thought that he had never enjoyed a holiday like the one he had just experienced in that small place among the mountains. He didnʼt have many happy memories of his childhood and the few he could remember were always blurred and imprecise. However, it suddenly didnʼt matter any more because life seemed to be paying back what it owed to him. He was determined to create new memories with those who were dear to him, memories that would be sweet, clear and unforgettable.

He smiled at this purpose but suddenly felt a slight uneasiness that made him realize that he was thirsty. He looked around the room but since he couldnʼt find any water he decided to get it by himself. So he silently got dressed and went out of the room doing his best to not bother the young womanʼs sleep. He hoped that his common sense would help him find what he needed in the kitchen of that house he didnʼt know quite well yet.

Terri thanked Miss Ponyʼs sense of order when he got into the small but tidy kitchen and easily found a large pitcher with fresh water. He served himself a glass and was about to go back to the bedroom when he heard a noise coming from another room that called his attention. The young man walked to the living room and was surprised to find a silhouette standing next to a window. The fire was on in the chimney and its crackling flames made Terri realized that he had heard the noise of the burning wood.

"Sleepless tonight, Archie?" he asked the man who hadnʼt noticed his presence yet.

The other young man turned back to see who had called him and when he discovered Terriʼs presence he couldnʼt control his frank displeasure.

"None of your business," the blond man responded bluntly. The fact that they were alone in the room and that he had been unexpectedly interrupted in the middle of his reflections made him careless with his modals.

Terri was surprised by his former classmateʼs rude reaction and suddenly, an isolated series of glances, words and the aborted fight they had, fit in his mind making him understand that certain things had not changed with time.

"Sorry to bother you, then," he simply said and was about to leave when Archieʼs reply stopped him.

"Bother me? No, itʼs not only that what youʼve done since you came into my life," the young man retorted.

Terri, who had never been a saint turned again and look straight at Archieʼs brown eyes, discovering the opened resentments that the young man had against him.

"Well, Archie," he started defiantly, " since you are such in the mood for a conversation, I would like to know now if it has been just my imagination this sort of . . . hostility that I had sensed from you lately."

"Your perceptiveness amazes me!" Archie replied scornfully as he walked towards the other man facing him, "Come on, Terri is not a secret that I have never been part of your admirersʼ club. Excuse me for not being so easily seduced by your charms, as everybody seems to do."

"I thought our differences had been left in the past, but I can see I was wrong," Terri responded sipping the water from the glass nonchalantly, while leaning over the wall.

"Our differences, as you call them, were always based on one single source and you know well what I mean," was Archieʼs brazen answer.

"Let me think a bit . . ." Terri pretended to be looking for a cause he just couldnʼt remember clearly. "Everything started because you came into my room without permission and I wasnʼt very happy about it, as far as I recall . . . but those were childish nonsense. I donʼt believe it is that what is still bothering you, Archie. I even wonder what was the real reason for our antipathy back in the school."

"Itʼs quite simple. You just donʼt deserve her!" the blond man replied boldly, as his eyes glared in contempt towards Terrence.

"All right. . . ." the young aristocrat exclaimed ironically, "So . . . after all this time, it is still about Candy, huh? It was always her, since the beginning, but we never got the courage to admit it then. At least, we have matured enough to face the truth. Thatʼs a real breakthrough!"

"Very funny!" the millionaire responded with the same disdain. "Everything is a sort of joke for you. Isnʼt it? You and I will never arrive to any kind of understanding."

"Wait! You are wrong. At least thereʼs something in which both of us agree." Terri argued leaving the wall and approaching the blond man.

"Oh really, what?"

"You just said that I donʼt deserve her. . . and I agree on that! How could I ever deserve her?" the young actor admitted, honesty reflecting in his voice, for the first time in the conversation. "But it happens that she made her choices," he added firmly.

"Which Iʼll never understand!" Archie riposted, "I wonʼt accept that the same person who made her suffer so harshly is now receiving her most devoted affection. You humiliated and hurt Candy when you broke with her because of another woman!" the young man reproached vehemently, " I saw it with my own eyes, and now. . . Here you are, as if nothing had happened before!"

=========

​

"And you think that I was in a bed of roses all that time?" Terri asked defensively, "I admit that I made lots of mistakes in the past, but I never wanted to hurt her . . . Anyway, at the end of it all, it doesnʼt really count what I did or not, but that she chose to forgive me, because she loves me, and thatʼs what you canʼt forgive me. Can you?" the young man asked challengingly.

"I would have never hurt her the way you did it, because I love her more than my own life," Archie replied arrogantly.

"And if you loved her so much, then why didnʼt you fight for her love in the past?" the other man wondered with defiance.

"Thatʼs my own problem," Archie replied deviating Terriʼs purposeful look.

"No Archie, donʼt lie to yourself. At least be honest with you this time and face the reasons you had to get involved with Annie instead of fighting for Candyʼs love," said Terri surprising the young millionaire with his argument.

"I did it because Candy asked me to do it!" was all that Archie could say in his defense.

"Good! And I broke with Candy because she asked me to take care of Susannah," Terri continued. "Then, we arenʼt so different from each other, and I am not more to blame than you are, dear friend."

Archie tried to find an answer for that accusation, but deep inside him, he understood that Terri was right, so he just remained silent.

"You donʼt answer to me, huh? Archie," the actor went on, slightly softening his tone, "I am really sorry to realize that you are in this painful position, but if you want to set the guilt on me I wonʼt accept it. We both fell in love with her, we had our chances and made our mistakes, the world twirled and in its movements fate favored me. I have learnt that love is not a matter of deserving it, but a matter of giving and receiving," Terri sentenced firmly.

"How convenient for you that philosophy sounds!" Archie looked again at Terri acridly.

"Yes, it turned to be convenient, but it is not my fault! Understand that things just happened. I never planned to hurt you with my happiness, but thatʼs the way life goes some times, Archie."

"Yet, donʼt ask me to be your friend when you know my feelings," Archie insisted less aggressively.

Terri went silent for a second. Archieʼs last words had made him regret his hard reactions towards Archie. After all, a part of the man sympathized with the young magnateʼs pain, and he paused, trying to look for the right words to say. "I wish things had been different between you and I," he finally said. "Moreover, I still hope that someday this situation changes for both of us."

"I canʼt tell you now," Archie replied huskily, "but you . . . just make sure she is happy if you donʼt want to find a frank enemy in me," he concluded turning his face.

"You donʼt even have to say it. Iʼll take care of that. Good evening, Archie," Terri told the other young man and feeling that the unpleasant conversation had arrived to its end, he turned his back to leave the room.

"Terrence," Archie called him with his eyes lost in the flames of the chimney.

"Yes?"

"Please, never let her find out about my feelings," Archie pleaded swallowing his own pride.

"Donʼt worry, your secret is safe as far as Iʼm concerned. You have my word," the young actor responded kindly, knowing that Archie was having a hard time making that request.

"Thanks," the young man said sincerely.

Terri nodded, but before turning his back to go out of the room he decided that he still had something to say.

"Archie . . ." he last told his former classmate, "get over it. . . I know it sounds ridiculous coming from me and perhaps Iʼm the last person on Earth you would take an advice, but it is up to you if you want to spend the rest of your life with that bitterness inside you," and saying those last words, the brunette man went out of the room, leaving Archie alone with the uproar of his internal fights.

======

​

Charles Ellis sipped again the coffee and found out that it was already cold, so he left the cup aside with annoyance. He bent his body to read again the last line he had written on the typewriter and for the hundredth time he wondered if he would spend his whole life doing the same frivolous work. He worked for the New York Times, that was something he was proud of, but being a reporter for the entertaining section was not his idea of an interesting job. He was thirty already and too ambitious for spending his time chasing overbearing prima donnas, moody stars, or all kind of evasive celebrities. He loved art but dreamt of the great action in the political section.

Charles grumbled a curse and continued typing with skillful fingers while he eyed his notes from time to time. Another young man walked towards his desk and realizing that Ellis was too concentrated in his work, he tapped over the wooden surface with a pencil in order to catch Charlesʼ attention.

"Whatʼs up, Ruddy?" asked Ellis without taking his eyes off the page he was typing.

"Iʼve got the information we needed," Ruddy said proudly with his shining green eyes while he toyed with the camera he had in his hands, "our man will arrive tomorrow morning with the mysterious lady."

"Oh no! That presumptuous brat again! Do we really have to cover that note?" Ellis asked annoyed.

"You already know we have to," the red haired Ruddy sentenced shrugging his shoulders.

"But how did you know that he will be here tomorrow?" asked Charles erasing a typo.

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​

"One of my friends in Chicago just phoned me. The presumptuous brat, as you call him, will be here at 10 am, more or less."

"When will I get rid of him?" Charles complained as he stretched himself, "This nightmare has already lasted for years!"

"You shouldnʼt complain Charlie," the photographer objected, "You got your job here thanks to the first interview he gave you!"

"I know it. . . but remember that interviewing an arrogant ice cube is not a pleasant job," Ellis objected cleaning his glasses with a handkerchief.

"But he must like you somehow, because he doesnʼt give interviews to anybody else," Ruddy pointed out.

"Well the first time it was just a matter of luck, I was in the right place and the guy was a little drunk. Though he didnʼt say that much either," Ellis explained, "later it was a sort of habit. He remembered me from the first time and he has just picked me from the rest."

"But tomorrow Iʼm sure lots of us will be there. He hasnʼt said a word to the press since he came back from France . . . and thereʼs this lady with him. Everybody wants to know about her."

"As if I care about this boy and his romances, when there are so many other interesting news I should be covering," Ellis responded disdainful.

"But you say you like his acting, donʼt you?" asked Ruddy curious.

"Well, thatʼs different. He is a talented actor, that I canʼt deny. But he is SO DIFFICULT to deal with!" Ellis grumbled with exasperation.

"Come on Charlie, cheer up. And go to bed early, weʼll have to be there before the train arrives."

"All right, Iʼll be there," Ellis mumbled as he continued typing while Ruddy left the office.

The following morning Charles Ellis and Rudolph OʼNeal waited at the train station, but as the latter had said, they were not the only reporters to be there. In fact, the platform was full of press people, ready with their large cameras, flashes and note pads. The train was delayed, hence the crew got bored and nervous, yet that was part of their tiring job and they all had to accept it.

At 10:35 the train finally arrived and the passengers began to get off slowly. The reporters waited calmly until their target man appeared in the scene, wearing a black overcoat, a dark suit and his usual haughty air. The man looked at the crowd that was obviously waiting for him with his cold blue eyes, and tilting down his dark head he murmured a few words to the young woman who was holding his arm. The lady, dressed on a dark green topcoat with a skirt of the same color, covered her face behind a tulle veil.

The couple began to walk along the platform followed by two men carrying the luggage and the reporters multitude raining questions at every step. The young man advanced naturally without responding to the press demands while the cameras kept flashing over him and his companion. Ellis, as the rest of his colleagues, pushed the ones in front of him and every time it was possible, he threw a question to the air while Ruddy fought to take a good shot of the couple.

The group reached the street where a car was already waiting for the couple. The chauffeur opened the door but before the lady got into the car, the young man stopped and turned to see the reporters behind him.

"What was the question, gentlemen?" he asked casually as if he hadnʼt listened quite well.

"When are we going see you again on stage Mr. Grandchester?" asked one voice.

"Why did you travel to Illinois?" was an immediate second question.

"Whoʼs the lady with you, sir?" was the third unavoidable question.

The young man smiled slightly for the reportersʼ great astonishment, who were used to the young actorʼs rude insolence but not to his smiles.

"All right, three answers only, " he replied and the group went quiet. "First, Iʼll be on a new play for next February, but you should ask Robert Hathaway about it. Second, I went to Illinois to do a very common thing, spend the holidays with some friends of mine, and third, he lady with me," he paused looking at the woman still holding his arm, "honors me as my wife. Thatʼs all gentlemen." And immediately after, the man helped the woman to get in the car and he did the same as soon as possible, ignoring the avalanche of questions that followed.

The car began to move very slowly among the crowd. The press men still insisted in walking next to the car, following their usual tactic, even when they knew that there werenʼt many possibilities to get more information in that moment. Surprisingly, the car window rolled down unexpectedly and Ellis, who was just right there in front of it, managed to ask another question to the woman inside.

"Your name, madam, please," he begged.

The young woman graciously lifted her hat veil allowing the reporter to see the light of her green eyes and the beams of a kind smile.

"Candy," she simply said before the car speeded up leaving the throng behind.

Ellis and OʼNeal stopped their rush for a second trying to recover from the effort of pushing, running and screaming, all at the same time.

"Did you take her, Ruddy?" asked Ellis to his companion, still breathless.

"Of course! Just on time, when she discovered her face, a beautiful one, by the way."

"Great! Letʼs go to the office now," the reporter suggested.

"You know Charlie," commented Ruddy while they walked towards the spot where they had left Charlesʼ old Model T, "You wonʼt believe this but I think Iʼve seen this young woman before."

"Really? Where? It would make a wonderful note if we could include the details of her origin."

"I think sheʼs member of an important family from Chicago," Ruddy said scratching his nape trying to remember the time he had been working in that city.

"Are you sure?" asked a very intrigued Ellis while he started the engine.

"Just let me check in my portfolios. I must have a photo of that girl in it. We can compare."

"All right. So letʼs go to your apartment to get that portfolios."

"Hey, I want to have something to eat, first. I didnʼt have breakfast," Ruddy growled.

"Forget it! We must have that note ready for the supplement," Charles said decisively.

 


"Oh boy! What a job!"

 


=========




​

​

It had been another New Yearʼs Eve Celebration in the Lokaʼs manor house in Lakewood. The ballroom and the garden were a real mess, all covered with streamer and confetti. The champagne had run freely in every glass with the logical consequence of tones of garbage and the unconscious body of a few guests still lying on the floor. Liza woke up very late that afternoon, with a terrible headache drilling her temples. She sat down on the bed and with a hand, rang the bell to call the maid, who immediately appeared in the chamber with the usual potion she gave her mistress every time she woke up with a hangover. Liza looked at her reflection in a large mirror and remembered that she had waited for Archie in vain. The young man never arrived at the party, setting her in a terrible mood that ruined her evening. After all, she had spent hours doing her best to look the most seductive a woman could be, just to try her luck with her cousin, who was by then her new target, especially when he was free and recently named head of the family.

"Oh dear Archie, now you are what I call a good catch. I wonʼt give up so easily. This was just my first attempt," she thought as she got up and put on her silken dressing gown. Then, she took a copy of the New York Times on one hand and the glass with the potion in the other and left the room.

"Happy New Year, brother," the young woman said gaily as she erupted into Neilʼs bedroom still in the darkness.

"Could you just talk a bit quieter?" responded a husky masculine voice from the bed.

"Come on, Neil cheer up and have some of this," she replied sitting down on the bed and offering her brother from her own potion, which he accepted gladly, "Here we are, this is 1919. Itʼll be my lucky year, youʼll see. Iʼll be married very soon."

"You said the same last year," Neil retorted scornfully.

"Oh you!" Liza whined, "you too should start worrying about finding a wife."

The young man gave the empty glass to his sister and without responding to Lizaʼs comment, he got up and walked towards the bathroom. Neil looked at his reflection while washing his face and once again the same thought came to his mind. The war had ended almost two months before but he hadnʼt listened anything about Candy. He had bluntly asked Albert about her and he had answered him evasively. "Where is she?" he kept wondering and the uncertainty was killing him.

Neil tried to remember the young womanʼs eyes but even that image was beginning to blur in his mind. Three months more and they would be two years since last time he had seen her. Perhaps the memory of her beautiful eyes was fading in his head, but for his great distress, the blended feelings that she inspired him were still fresh. The young man dried his brown reddish hair with energetic movements of the towel while he asked himself, once more in a million times, how he could hate and desire a woman at the same time with such an intensity.

"You are a vicious and obsessive idiot!" he told himself while looking at his face in the mirror, "I might be," he responded in his internal dialogue while his sister kept babbling in the bedroom, "but itʼs the womanʼs fault for being so evasive. It has just increased my desires for her. When you come back Candice, Iʼll chase you to death. With Albert away, it will be easier."

Unaware of her brotherʼs trail of thoughts, Liza read the newspaper nonchalantly jumping from one section to the other without great concentration. Then, a couple of photos in the supplement caught her attention and she went pale as she recognized the faces on it.

"Despicable bitch!" the young woman cried acridly, "She finally got what she had always wanted, that starving orphan!"

"Hey, whatʼs your problem, Liza?" asked Neil irritated with his sisterʼs yell, " I told you to keep it quiet. I have a headache!" the man complained coming out of the bathroom.

"You want to know what my problem is!" continued Liza with the same high pitch, "Take this and realize what your dear bastard has done. Sheʼs been a busy bee, you can tell," the woman said giving the newspaper to her brother.

Neil took the paper with unsteady hands and saw the photo that showed Candy elegantly dressed and walking on Terrenceʼs arm. Her face was covered by the hatʼs veil but just in case there was any doubt about the young womanʼs identity, she appeared smiling and in a close up on a second photograph.

"Two enfant terribles unite their destinies. Surprising all his admirers Terrence Grandchester secretly marries an eccentric heiress from Chicago." Was the article heading.

"This cannot be true!" Neil screamed throwing the paper to the floor with anger, "How did the bastard manage to do this?" he asked his sister who was nervously walking up and down the room.

"No wonder, brother. She has always been a real witch!" Liza replied. "She must have met him again, he was alone, vulnerable . . ."

"When I said bastard I was talking about Terrence!" Neil growled.

"It doesnʼt matter. They both are!" the young woman concluded throwing herself heavily on a loveseat, "I should have been in her place!" she mumbled bitterly, "Do you realize what this means?"

"Of course! That the British idiot is sleeping with the woman I want!" Neil blurted with ire.

"I care a damn about that!" Liza shouted getting desperate at her brotherʼs inability to understand her meanings. "A couple of years ago, Terriʼs father died and he inherited not only part of his fortune but also a title. Now the Ponyʼs orphan will be a Lady! That should have been ME! . . . What are you doing Neil?" asked Liza seeing that her brother was dialing a number with trembling fingers.

"Calling Buzzy to get new doses. I think I need it," he explained.

"Then, tell him Iʼll be available tonight. I need to do something to forget about this."

"Have a whisky, sister. Itʼll help for a while," the young man offered serving a glass for each one of them. Deep inside, Neil knew that his solution was only temporary.

=======

​

"Two enfant terribles unite their destinies," Terri chuckled reading aloud while drinking his tea. "This Ellis is really funny! He loves those grandiloquent titles."

"Do you know the journalist who wrote the note?" asked Candy trying to array her unruly curls. She was sitting on the bed next to Terri, having just finished their breakfast.

"Yes, Iʼve known him for some time. Heʼs a good man, though Iʼm afraid I have given him a hard time whenever he has interviewed me. But heʼs the only one I trust," he replied looking at the girl by his side and thinking that she looked lovely in the mauve silken negligee she was wearing.

"Why, may I ask?" she wondered curiously resting her chin on his shoulder.

"Well, he once proved me that he was honest enough to not publish something I said when I was too drunk to keep my mouth closed," the young man told the girl enjoying her caresses o his neck.

"That was nice of him!"

"But Iʼm looking at something that is a lot much nicer!" he said leaving the empty cup and the newspaper on the night table. "Come here!" he commanded sweetly opening his arms. The woman did not make him wait.

"Happy New Year," she told him giggling as they rolled under the covers.

"And happy anniversary too," he said among kisses.

========

​

By the beginning of February Terrence turned a little nervous and irritable. His reappearance on stage was about to take place and he couldnʼt avoid his restlessness. Moreover, he was going to perform in a comedy, a gender that he had not explored as much as the tragedy, and a slight feeling of insecurity was bothering him at times. However, Robert Hathaway and his coworkers were quite happy with him. Benjamin Maddox, a new sceneshifter, still shocked by one of the young actorʼs sudden outburst, asked once how they had managed to work with the temperamental artist.

"Oh, no! This is nothing!" replied Joseph, one of his colleagues. "You should have seen him before. That was hell! Nothing seemed to please him! Now heʼs rather mild! He is anxious because of the premier, but itʼll pass."

"So Iʼm glad that I didnʼt meet him before!" Benjamin concluded chuckling.

But the members of the Stratford Troop were not the only people to thank those slight but positive changes in the young manʼs temper. Those that appreciated the most such improvements were the servants that worked in the actorʼs house. Not only was he a lot kinder, but even during his bad moments they didnʼt have to fear dealing with him directly as they had in the past.

It was interesting to see how a small woman, as young Mrs. Grandchester was, could control de situation with a soft lead. Despite her lack of experience as a housekeeper, Candy had soon adapted to her new life. She had adopted a teachable attitude, showing that she was willing to learn from the employees that worked at her service, considering them as her peers and sort of coworkers. The servants felt the change immediately and, as most people, they simply yielded to Candyʼs charisma. The five members of the service were all very happy when they realized that from then on, they would have to deal with that sympathetic young lady, instead of her short-tempered husband.

Bess and Lorie, the maid, already knew the funny routine. Young Mr. Grandchester would arrive fuming, because something hadnʼt gone the way he expected at work. Then, his wife greeted him with a smile, ignoring his grouchy face, and the fire began to cool down slowly. The man would walk silently to his studio and stay there for a while until the young woman took the tea to the studio by herself –sparing the maid from the dreadful task - Whatever happened inside that room the servants didnʼt care. What really mattered was the effect and how at the end of the mysterious process, the young man reappeared in the dining room tamed and even kind.

On the other hand, during the days that he was in a better mood, which had become more frequent, the servants discovered that the young man could even be a charming person. It was clear that Mrs. Grandchester knew how to pull the secret chords in the young manʼs heart.

"Itʼs so moving to see how he loves her!" Bess comented to Lorie once they were talking alone in the kitchen.

"You are right," the maid smiled, "I think we never saw him truly in love until now."

And so the days went by for the inhabitants of the number 25 of Columbus Drive.

During those days Annie visited Candy to tell her the news of her break up with Archibald. When the young blonde found out what had happened she barely could believe her old friendʼs reaction. She felt very worried for Annie at the beginning, but the brunette looked so surprisingly secure and enthusiastic with her plans that Candy ended up understanding that her childhood friend was evidently maturing and taking charge of her own life.

Annie only stayed in New York for a week. Soon, the young woman took her baggage and after saying her farewells to the Grandchester and her father - who had traveled with her from Chicago – she boarded a boat to start her long trip towards Italy. A week later Albert did the same, undertaking a new adventure that would change his life.

With two of the most important people in her life going away for an indefinite time, some would have thought that Candyʼs happiness could have been eclipsed. However, she had a new reason to feel especially strong and joyful. She was only waiting for the proper moment to share her good news and the occasion came casually certain evening after supper.

"Whatʼs this?" the young woman asked her husband when she was checking his jacketʼs pockets in order to send it to the laundry. The young man looked at the envelope Candy had in her hands with annoyance.

"Thatʼs something I would like to ignore," he replied with indifference coming out of the shower. "Itʼs an invitation to one of the boring receptions given by Mr. Walter Hirschmann, an old man even more boring than his own parties," Terri added mockingly.

"I see. Should I throw it away, then?" she asked him naturally and seeing that he hesitated, she understood that despite his reluctance the party was sort of important, "or . . .is there something else you havenʼt told me?"

"Well, yes," he responded throwing himself on the bed heavily. "This man is a critic whose invitations I have . . . letʼs say . . . refused in the past."

"You mean that you have snubbed him several times," she said bluntly with a purposeful glance.

"All right, I have slighted him, if you want to put it in those terms," he accepted raising his eyes to the ceiling.

"Isnʼt it dangerous for your career to treat a critic in that way?" she asked intrigued.

"Now youʼre talking like Robert and my mother. I donʼt know why I told you this!" the young man regretted.

Candy could perceive Terriʼs internal conflict and trying to soften the situation she sat down next to him and brushing away his bangs with her fingers she tried to cool him down.

"Is this Mr. Hirschmann so annoying?" she muttered sweetly. "Perhaps you should give him a chance and avoid further problems. It doesnʼt mean that you would perform to please this man. It would be a simple courtesy from you. Plus, you donʼt have to stay the whole evening, do you?"

The young man looked at her not quite convinced but she felt that he was about to give up, so she kept on and decided to open the envelope.

"Look, he even mentions me in the invitation. That was very kind of him!" she said smiling, "Come on Terri! Perhaps we could even have some fun. You never know. Say weʼll go."

"And what would I get in return for my sacrifice?" he bargained smartly, beginning to find the playful side of the problem.

Candy eyed the date on the invitation realizing that it fitted perfectly for her purposes.

======

​

"Oh! Have you realized that the party is the same day of the premiere?" she asked with a brisk smile.

"Of course! He wants to have me suffering right in front of him that hideous old man!" he complained, "But donʼt digress, tell me what would I get!"

"Iʼll have a surprise for you that day, but you will have it until we leave the party . . . after a reasonable time so that our guest donʼt feel offended," she warned.

"Will I like the surprise?" he asked still doubtful.

"Ummm . . . letʼs say I hope you will," she responded and as he finally nodded in acceptance. After that, the young man simply forgot about the issue because he got engaged in more pleasant preoccupations.

Finally, the day arrived and despite Terriʼs anxiety everything went wonderfully. As usual he dazzled with his talent on stage, his Petruchio being warmly received by the demanding New Yorker audience. He wasnʼt aware of it, but his performance reflected a new maturity that the public recognized as well as appreciated. When the curtain went up for the last time, so that the cast could bow thanking for the encore, he lifted his eyes towards the box seats to see Eleanorʼs and Candyʼs smiling faces as they joined the ovation. The young woman met his gaze allowing him to read in her eyes how proud of him she was. Thus, his worries about Hirshmannʼs party were left in the oblivion.

Later on, that same evening, Candy found out that Terri had properly judged Mr. Hirshmann. He was, as a matter of fact, boring, snobbish and artificial, but his parties were not that bad after all because he knew lots of interesting people that made the evening less annoying. Ironically, Mrs. Hirshmann was a gentle middle age woman - perhaps too young for the old critic- who was soon captivated by the Broadwayʼs novelty that season, in other words, Terriʼs wife. The young woman attracted the guestsʼ attention since she stepped inside the hall and for the middle of the evening Terri realized that things were not as bad as he had thought. The couple even danced a good while, enjoying each otherʼs proximity and the freedom of being together in public. He didnʼt have to look at his watch, as he usually did the rare occasions he attended those parties. When he found out, it was already time to leave.

It had been an exhausting day and when they arrived home very late in the evening the young man simply collapsed in his favorite arm chair. The young woman sat in front of her dressing table taking off the jewels she had worn that evening. She observed briefly the brilliant necklaces that her husband had given her as a New Yearʼs present and later kept it in a small coffer. Then, she continued taking off the bobby pins that held her hairdo, freeing her blond locks, little by little. Sitting near the chimney, Terri observed the feminine ritual with amused eyes, admiring the pleasant contrast of the womanʼs white skin with the black sparks of her satin and guipure gown. However, there was a question burning inside him and he was getting desperate with Candyʼs slowness.

The girl seemed to ignore Terriʼs anxiety and she continued her task while commenting about the party and the play. The young man only answered halfheartedly, part of him consuming in curiosity for the supposed surprise she had promised him, and the other part starting to get lost in the scene of his wife disrobing herself in front of him with natural movements. Yet, he didnʼt want to give away his eagerness.

Candy came into the bathroom and only went out of it after a few minutes, smelling of fresh roses and wearing a white robe. She stood up at the bedroom entrance, looking at the young man still dressed up with his tuxedo, with impatience drawn on his handsome features. She laughed internally deciding that she had to release him from his tormenting curiosity and finally walked towards him sitting on his knees.

"So, will you pay me back for the great sacrifice I made for you tonight?" he said relinquishing his silence.

"Oh yes!" she responded obliviously, "Ummm, is it really urgent for you to have your surprise right now?" she asked with her arms wound around his neck, enjoying the effect of the fire over his greenish blue eyes.

"You are not telling me you donʼt have it right now! Are you?" he replied with a light sign of disappointment that made her think how childish he could be at times.

"Well, yes and no!" the woman grinned, undoing the knot of his tie playfully.

"Come on! This is not fair! I did what you wanted and now I want my prize!" he insisted, not knowing whether to feel angry or excited by the proximity of the young womanʼs body, already sensing the strawberry essence of her breath over his face.

"You see, Terri, there is a little problem!" she smiled unbuttoning his shirt, "Iʼm still working on your present and it will take some time. But at least, I can guarantee that you will surely have it."

The young man looked at the emerald eyes that were shining with mischief and he started to feel that he had been caught in a trap.

"I think you just lied to me!" he retorted mistrustfully.

"No, it isnʼt so!" She laughed openly, deciding that he had already suffered enough, "I have part of the surprise, the rest will come later." And with these last words Candy stood up and walked towards her dressing table to get a long envelope from one of the drawers, which she handed in to her husband.

The young man looked at the stamps and immediately knew that the envelope had come from England. He cast a wondering gaze to the blonde, who urged him to see what was inside. Terri found a carefully folded manuscript, with an endless family tree that began in 1660, with the birth of George I, the first member of the Hannoverian family, which had ruled over England since 1714. The house of Grandchester was one of the branches, ending with Richard Grandchesterʼs four children.

"I remember that my father insisted until I learned by heart these things," Terri commented lifting his eyes from the paper, "but how come you got it?"

"I wrote to Mr. Steward asking him to send us your family tree," she replied.

"You wanted to know about my obscure past, didnʼt you?" he joked, "but you could have just asked me. If you want I still can recite the whole story with all the Georges, Williams and Edwards, including my great grandaunt Victoria and my stiffed second uncle George V, King of Great Britain, Northern Ireland, Emperor of India and most boring man in the world. Quite a dull tale, by the way," he warned.

"You arenʼt very fond of your fatherʼs family," she snickered, "but you are wrong. Itʼs not that I was curious about your past, I just wanted to have the tree as a present for you," she explained taking again her place on the manʼs knees, "because it is time for us to contribute to the family line. And thatʼs the other part of the surprise I was waiting to tell you."

"What do you mean?" the young man asked confused.

"Well, thereʼs still space on this tree for us to add some new descendents," she said pointing to the paper. "In a few months more weʼll be adding a new name to the house of Grandchester. Though, being our child, I donʼt think he or she will make a good aristocrat," she concluded with a smile, waiting to see the manʼs reaction.

The young man went mute as Candyʼs words plunged into his ears with slow pace. The sentences resounded in his mind but it took some time for him to comprehend their implications. He gazed the young womanʼs face memorizing every single line of her expression in that moment and, at last, the understanding blessed him with a joy he had never known before.

"You mean that. . ." he mumbled still shocked by the news.

"Yes!" she whispered resting her forehead on his, "Weʼre going to be parents. This is my present for you! Congratulations for tonightʼs performance, Terri. "

"Are . . .are you sure?" he stuttered not able to deal with the whole concept of him being a father.

"Absolutely. The doctor confirmed my suspicions just the day before yesterday," the blonde explained. "Arenʼt you happy with the idea?" she asked kind of doubtful at his astonished reaction.

"Happy?" He wondered beginning to laugh almost hysterically, "I still cannot digest so much happiness, freckle girl! Itʼs the best news I have ever received," he concluded taking the woman in his arms, swinging her softly until they both fell over the bed.

"Hey!" she protested among laughter, "Now you should be more careful!" she warned sweetly and he reacted loosening the embrace and moving apart, not knowing how to react.

"I . . . Iʼm sorry. I have never been . . . married to a pregnant woman!" he said, perplexed.

"Well, I have never been pregnant before, either," she smiled reassuring him, "But weʼll learn together. Yet. . . you donʼt have to be too careful, Terri," she hinted with a purposeful wink and he understood her meaning. A second later a well known cinnamon flavor invaded the womanʼs mouth.

"May I ask you something?" he muttered as an idea came across his mind amidst the embrace.

"Yes."

"You would have told me the news even if I hadnʼt gone to Hirschmannʼs party, wouldnʼt you?" he asked.

"Of course," she grinned knowing that he had discovered her trick. "I was planning to tell you tonight anyway. I didnʼt want to say a word before, because I wasnʼt sure yet. But you donʼt regret going to the party, do you?" She looked at him smiling.

"I shouldnʼt let you get your own way so easily, you hopeless fibber, but tonight I could forgive you anything," the young man said forgetting the matter with another kiss and she responded untying the band that held her silken robe, sole piece of clothing that covered her nudity.

Lost in the allurements of the sensual exchange and the new joy of knowing that his dreams of a family with Candy would soon come true, Terri left to oblivion all of his worries about the critiques that the papers would publish the following morning. This was something that had never happened to him on a premier evening.

=======

​

Candy left the bathroom and after drying her long hair carefully, she put on a white cotton blouse which delicate embroidery matched with the pink skirt she had chosen. She had planned to find a job in a clinic, but due to her pregnancy she ended up leaving the project for later, thinking that it would be better to devote herself to her role of wife and mother for some time. However, she was not getting bored at all. Fort Lee during spring time could be a charming place and she had been taking advantage of it. After helping Bess and Lorie with the house chores, the young woman used to go for a walk along the Hudsonʼs bank and come back to have some quiet time for her own before her husband arrived.

She looked at her reflection on the mirror admiring proudly the growing curve of her abdomen. Her cheeks had recovered their usual blush and her eyes had a new sparkle. A sort of quiet dialogue she did not understand completely but enjoyed utterly had started between the young woman and the new life that already moved inside her. She loved sitting down in the living room to see the sunset over the ponds that surrounded the neighborhood and contemplating the placid landscape through the window, she listened carefully to the silent language she shared with her child.

​

A rebel curl escaped from the pink ribbon in which she loosely held her hair into a ponytail, and she brushed it away absentmindedly. She sighed remembering that in a few days more she would be twenty-one. She knew that life still had many things in store for her, some of them good, some others less fortunate, but in that serene evening she felt so blissfully complete that all the pains future could bring looked meaningless for her confident heart.

Candy had in her hands the mail which had arrived during that week. News from Italy, Nigeria, France, Chicago, Lakewood, and Ponyʼs home, congratulating her for her birthday. Each one of those lines brought her the love of those people that were dear and important to her. She read again each one of the letters as inwardly she told the baby who all those people were. Later, she took a printed copy of a script which was resting on a nearby table. She then began to read . . .

"Reencounters, by Terrence G. Grandchester."

 

[domniki]

EPILOGUE


Part I

Dylan

​

​

Life is not a pleasure cruise around the world, but a collection of experiences, some of them happy and some others less fortunate. Our transit along the road is always marked by the trace of our personal mistakes and the collective result of human miseries, this is, sometimes we suffer because our own sins have always a consequence and some others because we are living in an unfair universe.

Candy did not deserve to be abandoned by her parents and be mistreated at the Leagan’s. She certainly didn’t do anything to be punished with the pain caused by Anthony’s and Alistair ‘s death and, of course, it was not fair either to be caught into an unfortunate triangle with Susannah and Terrence.

On the other hand, Terrence was not to blame for his parent’s mistakes and yet, he had to suffer the consequences during most of his childhood and adolescence. It was not his fault that a spot light fell during that rehearsal and he was not responsible for Susannah’s feelings that led her to save his life. All those were the sort of misfortunes that we have to endure without a reason, so hard to bear because of their unfairness.

Later, Terrence and Candy made their own mistakes and a few decisions that were not quite intelligent though always well-intentioned. At the end of it all, life ended up paying back with a lucky turn of fate, but even if God forgives us for our faults, it is unavoidable to suffer the logical results of our errors.

If Candy and Terri had made a different decision that evening in the hospital, perhaps their lives would have faced another sort of trials, but the way things were solve that time, led them both to a war and marked their destinies in a determined way. Some things, as it was said before, ended up in a happy way, but nobody goes to war and returns untouched. Nobody kills and continues living as if nothing had happened.

That was the burden that Terrence had to bear for the years that followed, the traumatic memory of the battles he had witnessed and the faces of those he had kill to preserve his life and accomplish his duty. Wealthy, successful and happily married to a woman that he adored and who loved him in return, he seemed to have a perfect life, but in a dark corner of his heart he was going to carry that load for the rest of his life. With the years, he would learn to handle it and even grow wiser from the painful experience, but during the first year after the end of the war, when the young man was still adapting to his new life, he had to struggle a great deal.

He tried to fight that mental battle all alone, not willing to worry his wife’s sensitive soul. But men can hardly hide things from those mysterious creatures that live by their side called women. Candy knew well the harsh pains he suffered from time to time and perceived in many occasions how a repetitive nightmare tormented him during the nights. In those occasions, when he suddenly woke up sweating and silently gasping, he would try to go back to sleep hugging his wife tightly and she would then open her eyes and ask him if he was alright. He never talked about his nightmares, limiting himself to embrace her. Thus, knowing Terri’s ways, she respected his silence and tried to calm him down with mute affection.

“Can the same hands that were once covered with blood survive to live in peace, love and honest work? If nothing justifies murder, then, why so many blessings have been granted to me?” were the repetitive torturing questions that hammered in his head from time to time.

Nothing is perfect under the sun and we have to learn to deal with this world’s imperfections; though such learning is a tough process. In Terri’s case it would take years, thousand of pages in which he wrote away his frustrations and fears, lots of patience and love from his wife and an extraordinary event that made the young man understand that he had to overcome his guilt.

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Whenever a woman expects a baby the wait becomes pleasant and uncomfortable, natural and mysterious, exasperating and sweet, scaring and encouraging in a blend of assorted feelings. Candy was not the exception during that time. She was full of hopes and confident but also nervous and anxious to have her child in her arms.

Notwithstanding how long the wait seemed at the beginning, time flew amazingly fast among her domestic responsibilities, her rush to decorate the baby’s bedroom, her worries for Terri’s frequent nightmares and the expectations she and her husband had for the premiere of Reencounters, which will be first presented by August. Terri was all nervous and excited with the project and his young wife knew that it was part of her duty to help him to control the so many pressures he was dealing with.

Yet, among all the load they both had to bear, the couple still found the time to enjoy each other’s presence, understanding that in spite of all the earthly preoccupations they had to face, they still had the special blessing of the true love they shared and that was a grace not many people could boast of having.

So, following her kind nature, Candy spent her days looking after the man she loved and taking care of the baby who was growing inside her as she counted the days for both events, the premiere and the child’s birth.

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Charles Ellis arrived at his box in the theatre just on time for the premiere. He had just been promoted in the newspaper and was not writing reports anymore, but working as an assistant of one of the most important critics in the New York Times. Though he had always dreamt of being a war reporter, he was slightly starting to enjoy his new job, which was less frivolous and a lot more interesting.

The man sat down on the seat, looking absentmindedly to the audience that was slowly getting into the orchestra seating area. In his hands, he held the program and was wondering again about the play he was about to watch.

He was skeptic about the young writer whose work he was going to see. “Being a good actor does not necessarily mean that one can also write successfully”, Ellis thought . So, the dark eyed man was curious, yet not quite sure if he was going to enjoy the evening. His eyes wondered all around the place and ended up reaching other of the boxes right in front of him. Two blond women were already sitting. A tall man with also fair hair and particularly tanned face escorted the ladies.

“The author’s family,” Ellis told himself using his binoculars to recognize the three faces, “The eccentric Mr. Andley, who just came back from Nigeria; Mrs. Baker, always so elegant and distinguished and, of course, the sweet Mrs. Grandchester, young, beautiful and pregnant. I thought that in her state she would stay at home.”

Then Ellis thoughts were eclipsed by the applauses that irrupted in the theatre as the curtains went up. And contrary to all his expectations, it didn’t take him long to get trapped into a moving plot that told the story of three men facing the dangers and trials of war times that forced them to make decisions, some of them for the better and some of them for the worse. Whereas Andrew Wilson had decided to enroll in order to leave behind the family duties that he hated, Matthew Tharp was trying to escape from his internal pains after loosing the woman he loved, and on his own, Derek James was searching a way to prove himself that he could do something worthy beyond the frivolous life-style he used to have. The three men would reencounter their lost ways among the chaos and appalling sufferings that the word provided, but unfortunately, only Tharp would survive to tell the world the story.

The dialogues were sober but didn’t lack of emotion, while the action moved smoothly, leading the spectators to feel involved in the tale. In that way, the audience felt excited when Wilson realized that he could flee from his family but not from himself, they cried when James died as a hero in the battle field, finding in that way the meaning he was looking for, and sighed when Tharp unexpectedly recovered the love he had believed lost for ever.

Ellis could not get his eyes off the stage, feeling that his admiration for Grandchester’s talent was getting even deeper. Not only he had managed to compose a really mature and emotively written story, despite his being a novel writer, but he was also having the best performance of his entire career doing Tharp’s role. But surprises would not end there that evening.

After the interlude, whilst the audience was again taking the seats, Ellis observed from the distance, that Mrs. Grandchester took her right hand to her belly, the blush on her cheeks fading for a second. A moment after, the young woman touched her mother in law’s shoulder and immediately the two ladies and the millionaire left the box before the following act started.

When Ellis saw the actor’s family leaving the box in the middle of the play, he understood that Mrs. Grandchester was about to give birth to her first child. Yet, the journalist knew that the show had to go on and was not amazed that Terrence Grandchester continued his performance impassively, though he could observe through the binoculars how the young man slightly paled when he briefly turned his eyes searching a couple of green eyes and he found them not. Not withstanding this first and natural reaction, the actor kept on his work with the same nonchalant demeanor and the rest of the audience, unaware of the situation that was going on behind the curtains, responded generously to the artist’s talent that once again excelled and exceeded his previous work.

At the end of the play the public stood on their seats claiming the author and first actor’s name, but oddly, the young man limited the encore to only one and the second time the curtains opened, just Robert Hathaway appeared on stage. After the applause had died at the signs he made with his hands the veteran director addressed to the audience.

“Ladies and gentlemen. The company Stratford is very grateful for your appreciation. Tonight we have witnessed the birth of a new writer and the consolidation of an already bright dramatic career. But good things sometimes come in big packages and so it has been for my friend and partner Terrence. Although he would have loved to stay with us for longer this evening, other duties have forced him to leave the theatre, for your see, his wife has already given birth to their first child, and let me tell you that this baby was really in a hurry to be born. It’s a boy and surely wanted to congratulate his father personally for tonight’s success, which we also due to your preference. Good evening.”

A cheerful rumor ran through the place and a final ovation that lasted for long reached the huge building ceiling and halls. Ironically, Terrence could not hear that tribute to his work and even if he had had the chance of being there, he wouldn’t have enjoyed it, because his mind was already too worried and troubled, while the chauffeur speeded up taking him and Albert to the hospital.

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I looked at him for the first time and knew he was already a piece of my own heart. The nurse gave me the little babe so that I could embrace him against my chest. He was still covered by the liquid in which he had lived for nine months, but his eyes were already open, perceiving the lights and shadows around him. Then, he looked at me with those oceanic crystals he has in his apples and I loved him even more, seeing the same light I loved in his father’s eyes. This was the most delightful experience I had ever enjoyed and not able to withhold the emotion I started crying while I softly hugged him in my arms. I understood then that the little mystery I was holding would be, along with his father, the center of my life from then on. I couldn’t figure a higher joy, a merrier song, a better luck, a more legitimate pride than having a son of the man I loved.

The nurse asked me to give her the baby back, so that she could clean him, but I begged her to let me do it with her help. It was a very unusual request, yet I had done the same with so many babies I have helped to come to this world that I just couldn’t imagine not doing it with my own son. I have always been a woman hard to persuade and as the doctor had already left the room, the nurse ended up yielding to my desires. So we both gave my child his first bath.

Soon, they took me to our room and despite the nurses’ complains I insisted in keeping the baby with me. He had been in intimate touch with me during nine months, it was not in that moment I was going to abandon him, when he had just arrived to this world and was surely afraid of the new surroundings, the shocking light, the unexpected coldness and all the disturbing noises around. Fortunately, I have already discussed the matter with the doctor and convinced him to let the child stay with me despite the hospital policies, which I have always believed awfully inhuman.

When I was taken to the room Eleanor was already there. She had used her popularity to be allowed in the place. She saw her grandson and since the very first moment perceived the great resemblance he has with his father. She took the baby in her arms while the nurse helped me to clean myself , change clothes and comb my hair. The poor woman cried in silence with an incredible melt of happiness and melancholy while she rocked my son softly. I understood that as a grandmother she was overwhelmed with happiness, but as a mother - perhaps remembering the moment Terri was born- she was living again the pain she had suffered when Richard Grandchester had taken her child away from her.

I imagined in that instant what it would be like to be separated from that small slice of heaven that my son was already for me. I had never really comprehended what Eleanor had undergone, until that very moment and also a furtive thought made me remind about my own mother, who surely suffered immensely when she had to leave me for a reason I will always ignore. Yet, in that moment I asked God to take care of that woman I would never meet and also thanked him because he had paid me back for the suffering of being an orphan giving me a family of my own.

When I was ready, Eleanor gave me the baby again and told me that I had to feed him immediately. I knew what I had to do but the sole idea made me quiver with pleasure. I had imagined myself feeding my child many times during my pregnancy and finally the moment had arrived. With trembling hands I uncovered my breast and my son very easily found the way to his food. I will never forget that feeling when he started sucking with an amazing confidence, as though something inside would be telling him that he could trust in me absolutely.

“Thank you,” Eleanor told me as the baby continued his task totally oblivious to the rest of the world.

“What for?” I asked a little confused.

“For so many things, my child,” she said with that beautiful smile of hers, same one I was sure would be my baby’s, once he learnt how to smile, “but especially for loving my son truly and giving him this little miracle.”

“ Everything I have given to Terri, he has paid back and even given me more I ever expected,” I responded taking Eleanor’s hand in mine, while I held my son with my other arm.

Then, we remained in silence contemplating the child with the same adoration, both of us absorbed in the sweet quiet noises he made while eating. We felt in that moment that a new special bond between the two of us, as women, had been born that day. We had become two links of the long chain of human kind that would always be closely interconnected.

“ By the way,” she gasped after a while, “ I think I must go out and see if this angle’s father has already come from the theatre! He deserves to meet his child!” Eleanor avowed letting me alone with my son.

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I opened the door in a rush, without taking into account that the shock would be too strong to be taken all at once. As a logical consequence, the whole overwhelming feeling stroke me with all its force, leaving me numb and speechless when I saw that smiling young woman with a baby sleeping peacefully over her breast. If I get to live one hundred years, I don’t think I could get to experience a more intense moment as that one, when I saw my Candy, holding our first son in her arms and looking at me with that special smile, mixture of happiness, pride and a sort of complicity, as if she wanted to tell me in her own and silent way, that the little miracle in her arms was as part of me as part of her.

I closed the door behind me and stood mute for a while, beholding my family’s beauty for the first time. She was, without question, the most gorgeous woman I have ever seen and the tiny life lying on her chest was a gift from God I hardly could believe. My angel holding another angel, that was what I saw in that moment and that vision will live in my mind for ever.

I approached the bed still feeling dizzy by the many emotions I was experimenting, but she extended towards me one of her arms and I found my way to sit down next to her. My lips immediately searched for her forehead and I stayed in silence close to her, while I shamelessly cried quietly. There, as I embraced my wife and my son with the heart swelling with joy, I couldn’t avoid thinking about the sad days of my childhood in which the word family was a sort of happiness I never imagined as possible.

“Anything I could tell you in this moment wouldn’t match what I have in my heart, Candy,” I finally told her with difficulty, “All that I can figure out could not reflect my gratitude towards you, my love.”

“You don’t have to say anything because we are both feeling the same. Words are not needed,” she replied responding to my kisses. Her taste had never been as delicious as in that moment. Yet, in those years I was still naïve about the many flavors I was still going to try in her mouth.

When we broke the kiss the baby started moving slowly on Candy’s chest and he suddenly opened his eyes aiming directly to me. I was so dazzled by that first glance that Candy let escape a giggle.

“Meet your son. He has your eyes, doesn’t he?” she commented proudly.

“Do you think so?” I wondered still numb.

“Come on, try and take him” she told me and before such an offer I must have paled because she laughed at my expression.

“Hold him?” I asked terrified with the idea, “I don’t think I could!”

“It is not such a big deal, come on, I’ll teach you how to do it,” she prompted me and later gave me some simple instructions on how to take the baby in a safe way.

When I first held that tiny body in my arms and felt how he moved his arms and legs, looking at me with curiosity, I thought I would melt. As I had the baby in my arms, his soft warmth crept through my pores and the feeling was very similar to the one I always experimented when hugging his mother, yet different. The tiny boy was there, abandoned to my grip, confident and oblivious to human evil while I felt the load of fatherhood fall over my shoulders for the first time and since then, that blend of pride and fear has never left my soul, not even when all our children left home. In that instant, as if the contact with my son had a magic effect on me, I comprehended that, deserving it or not, I had been blessed with a family and along with the bliss I was also going to carry the enormous responsibility.

Often in the past, I had condemned Richard Grandchester for doing such a poor job as my father, but whilst Candy and I beheld our son, I was not sure that I could do it any better. Still lost in the contemplation of that small face, I sensed my wife’s hand on my arm.

“You have to forget and forgive yourself now,” she told me plunging her eyes into mine with an intended glance.

“Candy!” I just could manage to say, knowing well what she wanted to tell me.

“Whatever you lived in the trenches and out of them, Terri,” she continued decisively, with that sweet firmness of hers, “it was not your fault, love. You have to overcome those memories to raise our son free of that guilt.”

I’ve always known that, no matter whether I like it or not, Candy can see through me as though I were made out of glass. Nevertheless, I thought I had hidden my secret troubles well enough for her to ignore them, but she showed me again that it was an impossible task.

I looked at her and simply surrendered to her direct regard, admitting without words that she was right.

“ It is not easy, freckles,” I finally told her with difficulty, “I don’t even know how to do it,” I added feeling how the repressed pains suddenly came to the surface.

“Some people say that talking about the sad things we keep inside helps us a lot to overcome our fears and heal our bruised heart,” she replied with a soft smile curving her lips with that especial gesture she presents me with every time I need her support.

“ There are things that I lived there which I wouldn’t even tell myself,” I argued still troubled, but already feeling a feeble release as we continued talking.

“ Then, keep on writing about them. It seems that you are good at it. Everybody was praising your talent during the interlude tonight,” she told me proudly, “and . . . if you ever want someone to hear your story, you should know that I am here to listen to you. After all, I am not an alien to those horrors you lived, because I witnessed them somehow. Please, Terri, don’t exclude me from your struggles. I’m your wife. Am I not supposed to share everything with you?” she added with a question that was rather an statement while she caressed my forehead.

I attempted a weak smile, not able to respond to her words because of the emotions that flooded my heart in that moment. Finally I just succeeded to assent with a nod and we remained in silence for a while. In a way, I knew that a long process of healing had just started and I made up my mind on working hard on it for the sake of my family. I also thought about the moment I had met my son’s mother and an endless list of memories started to fill my heart with the sweetest certainty. That child was the son of love and I was determined to educate him with love.

“I thought about a name for him,” Candy said then breaking the silence.

“Oh really? Which one?” I asked curious.

“Terrence, of course! Is there another name?” she said smiling.

“My name?” I wondered not quite convinced of naming the baby after me, “Don’t you think it would be confusing? Besides, I already know his name,” I replied looking at her mischievously.

“What do you have in mind?” she asked me skeptically, with a cute frown that made the freckles on her nose move charmingly.

“His name is Dylan,” I said looking at my son that was slowly falling asleep again.

“It’s a beautiful name, but why Dylan?” she wondered intrigued.

“Because of what it means.”

“What does it mean?”

“Son of the ocean,” I said kissing her forehead once more, “for this child was truly conceived since the very first time our eyes met that evening over the Atlantic. I gave you my heart then and even though I’m conscious that you were in love with someone else back then, I believe that you were not totally indifferent to me.”

She smiled at me tracing my lips with her index finger, expressing in a mute but clear way that she had been moved by my words.

“You’re pretty secure of your charms, huh?” she inquired with a teasing smile, “Though you’re right, I never stop thinking about you since that moment, despite my reluctance to admit it, and as for the name, it is a beautiful metaphor. However, I still want our son to have your name, because that’s the name of the one I love the most.”

“All right, let’s make a deal and use both names,” I suggested and saw her approval in those green eyes of hers.

I gave the baby to her and when she had him back cuddled in her arms she addressed to him sweetly.

“Terrence Dylan Grandchester, welcome to our family, then” she told him and it became official.

 

[domniki]

Part II

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Recovering a lost treasure

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It was a splendid Spring morning when the Grandchesters arrived at the docks. Candy was wearing a cotton dress with a peach flowered pattern which skirt flowed with the marine breeze, grazing her white legs a couple of inches above her calves. The young woman looked at her audacious skirt and, once more, she thought that Mrs. Aylo would faint if she saw her wearing the scandalous latest fashion. A soft smile appeared on her lips as she imagined the face that the old lady would make, but again she couldnʼt care less, so comfortable and practical the new trend seemed to her. She was glad that women could finally get rid of the torturing corsets and the long skirts that tangled in their legs every time they wanted to run. And that was something she had needed to do very often during the previous two years.

Next to her, the reason for her constant athletic training was innocently playing with a toy car that she had brought in order to keep him busy. The little Dylan, who was already two years old, had certainly grown a great deal to become a strong and restless rascal, who really took after both of his parentsʼ temper and maintained his young mother always going up and down around the house to reduce the danger of his constant accidents.

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“He looks so involved in his game,” she said in a whisper to her husband, observing carefully the boyʼs movements as he played absentmindedly.

“Hush! Donʼt jinx it!” replied the young man sitting down next to her, while taking his index finger to his lips.

“It wonʼt last long, anyway!” the young woman giggled at Terriʼs comment, “I only hope that the ship can reach the port before he begins to get bored.”

The Grandchesters had gone to the port to welcome a friend that they hadnʼt seen in three years, Anne Brighton, who was about to come back to her home land after finishing her training as a teacher in Italy. During all that time, the young blonde had corresponded with her childhood friend very often, thus both women had kept abreast of whatever was going on with each otherʼs lives. Annie had already completed a whole album with Dylanʼs photos and knew all of his exotic adventures jumping up to the stove, down the basement, over the gardenerʼs head, through the back yard fence, on his fatherʼs back, under Robert Hathawayʼs beard, into the pond, behind the scenery, across the stage, inside his grandmotherʼs wardrobe and everywhere his imagination went. Candy, on her own, had learnt by heart Annieʼs studentsʼ names and each one of their particular problems, she kept track of Pietroʼs headway with the puzzles, Mariaʼs problems with additions or Steffanoʼs enthusiasm as he learnt how to read. Deep inside, Candy also knew the secret sorrows that Annie never talked about in her letters, those quiet pains that the young blonde could guess beyond the paragraphs.

“Mom, broken wheel!” called a tiny voice whilst a small hand pulled Candyʼs skirt, which made the young woman come back from her thoughts.

It was then, while Candy tried to fix the toy car which had lost a wheel thanks to Dylanʼs energetic pounding, that the transatlantic in which Annie traveled arrived. The moment that followed, as the two young women finally saw each other after such a long time, was one of the most touching experiences they ever lived. The two of them hugged each other fiercely, crying and laughing at the same time, like two little girls, whereas Terri observed them standing a few feet away and carrying an amazed Dylan in his arms.

Mutual recognition came afterwards. Annie was astonished to fully realize the beauty that marriage and motherhood had enhanced in Candyʼs gestures and bearing, as she also admired the blondeʼs slender figure and her bold and trendy outfit that included a soft make up. Candy, on her own, was pleased to see her friendʼs short haircut that went so well with her frame and the slight tanned that her skin had gained. Yet, behind the smile, Candy knew well that there was a heart still aching. However, the young woman decided that they would have time to trust each otherʼs secrets later on, so she proceeded to introduce her son to her best friend, and from that very moment Annie fell in love with the brisk baby that very naturally opened his arms to her as though he had known her for a long time.

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Annie spent a few weeks in New York, sincerely pleased as she witnessed Candyʼs happy and placid little universe that orbited from Terri to Dylan and back to Terri. The two old friends spent quite a good number of afternoons talking endlessly and sharing each otherʼs dreams for the future, which in the case of the brunette, included the foundation of a school for mentally disabled children, an increasing involvement into Ponyʼs Homeʼs affairs and a thorough reconciliation with her mother, who at last had started to give signs of repentance for her harsh reactions towards Annieʼs decisions.

Candy, who was working three times a week as a volunteer in Fort Lee Red Cross station, was fearing that she would have to leave her job for a good time, because she had certain suspicions of a new pregnancy and so she trusted Annie her little secret even though she wasnʼt sure about it yet. Unlike Dylan, this new baby had been carefully planned by the young couple and both of them were very excited with the new possibility, even though they were aware of the shock that it would represent for their first child.

Nevertheless, during all those long talks that the two young women shared, the name of Archibald Cornwell was never mentioned. Annieʼs muteness only reinforced Candyʼs theory about her friendʼs feelings towards her cousin, but she respected the brunetteʼs silence, having experienced herself the same need of privacy during the years she had been separated from Terri. In the bottom of Candyʼs heart an intuitive certainty began to grow, but she kept it secretly.

Mr. Brighton came to New York to pick his daughter and after a few days that the gentleman and his daughter gave themselves to enjoy the city and each otherʼs company, Annie decided that it was time to leave the Big Apple and face her old demons that were waiting for her in Chicago. After all, she could not stay at the Granchestersʼ for ever, she had her own destiny to fulfill, whereas Candy and her two men owned their particular cosmos, in which the others were, despite the warm affection they could received from the actorʼs family, just intruders into a private paradise.

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Giacomo Pagliari was one of Mr. Brightonʼs business partners and the friendship between the two men had grown during the years that Annie had lived in Italy. Mr. Pagliariʼs relatives in Italy had welcomed Annie warmly, making her feel almost at home, visiting her during the school days, inviting her to spend the weekends and the holidays with them in their country house and sending long letters to Mr. Pagliari and his partner to keep them informed about the young womanʼs health.

At her return, Annie had started to receive the regular visit of Alan Pagliari, Giacomoʼs eldest son, and Chicagoʼs high society was beginning to rumor in the cotillion that the young Pagliari was courting Annie Brighton. The young woman heard the gossip about her and Alan, but never made a comment about it with anybody, limiting herself to smile enigmatically and blush lightly every time she was asked about the matter.

After all, Alan Pagliari was certainly not a bad suitor, heir of a great wealth, smart business man and possessor of a charming and sparkling personality that reminded Annie of Candyʼs spry ways, Alan was one of the most popular bachelors among the young ladies and had become a true good friend for the young and delicate Miss Brighton. Their friendship increased each day and it seemed that nothing could get on the way of the new couple.

Annie looked at her reflection on the mirror, checking again the reddish brown wig she was going to wear in the masquerade that evening. She had lost her old enthusiasm for great social events during the time she had been working and studying in Italy. The young woman had realized that there were so many important matters to solve in this world that she was amazed how she had lost her time in frivolities in the past. However, she had to attend that masquerade ball particularly, because she wanted to meet a few important people that could sponsor her project of a school for special children. Fortunately, she was counting on Alan for keeping her company during the evening, and yet, she couldnʼt keep herself at ease as a rooted fear had been bothering her all day long whilst she prepared herself for the occasion.

“It must be my old insecurity playing mean tricks on myself, again,” she told herself while she checked her light blue chiffon dress that imitated the style that was on fashion during Napoleon Bonaparteʼs Empire, “I just have to be positive and confident to make those rich gentlemen understand that my project is worthy,” she said aloud to cheer herself up, and with that last thought she abandoned her chamber taking a deep breath. That evening was going to be full of surprises, she sort of sensed it, but ignored to what extend.

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“Another boring party to bear,” thought the young man while he gave his coat to the servant in the hall, “I wonder how long I would have to stay listening to overbearing old men and fleeing from their anxious daughters who insist on flirting as though their breathing depended on that.”

The man elegantly moved along the large room greeting kindly every acquaintance he met on his way, smiling classily at the business men that recognized him and gentlemanly kissing the ladiesʼ hands as he regaled the feminine ears with a courteous compliment. All was part of his well studied routine, a matter of public relations, as he saw it, and another way to assure his success in the tough and aggressive business world. He didnʼt complain about his position, for he enjoyed greatly his life style and challenging work. However, at times, he got sick of so much hypocrisy around him and his heart crave to find a heart that would truly desire to meet the real person within him, not regarding his social status and large fortune. But that was something he had not been able to do, so far.

He presented his regards to the host and his wife, and later on, he mingled with the other distinguished guests, lightly chatting with the men, dancing a couple of times with the first girl that showed up some interest in him, just to realize that her head was so empty that the air could be heard blowing inside. Yes, indeed, it was again another boring evening, but at least there was an additional detail that made the ball less annoying. It was a masquerade ball and looking at the customs each guest had chosen was especially interesting, because the disguise gave away something about its ownerʼs personality.

In that way, Mr. Garland who was member of the conservative party looked so well on that Quakerʼs outfit, while the hedonist Mrs. Clark was really at ease on her Cleopatraʼs custom. He, on the contrary, had chosen something that didnʼt reflect his present humor at all. The young man was wearing a dark green late renaissance costume with velvety trunk hose and a doublet, delicately embroidered with golden and complicated patterns over the green background. A dull monkʼs costume would have suit more his gloomy condition that occasion, but again, he had to keep certain image, regardless his mood that evening.

The young man shook his head indistinctly to free his forehead of the silken dark blond bangs that brushed his eyebrows and in that moment he perceived a presence from the other side of the ballroom. He couldnʼt look at it clearly because the guests were dancing in the middle of the place and the couples moved constantly making it difficult for him to see. Making an effort, he distinguished a slim silhouette wrapped on a flowing turquoise gown made of dainty chiffon. The lady moved slowly along the other side of the room with graceful pace, and the young millionaire could appreciate, despite the distance, that the sheer fabrics of her skirt, which reached her ankles, allowed the good observer to descry the softly curved line of her legs.

The woman was covering her face with a mask ornamented with feathers that matched with her Empire style dress, thus the young man couldnʼt decide whether he knew the lady or not, but he was certain that he hadnʼt felt so strongly attracted to any woman as he suddenly felt towards that young lady at the other side of the ballroom. The bold décolletage and high waistline of her dress accentuated the feminine charms in such a disturbing fashion that the young man was afraid that his insistent glance would give away more than he was willing to let see.

“God, she is gorgeous !” he thought not able to withhold himself from looking at her directly.

For his great embarrassment, the young woman turned her head crowned by brown curls and discovered his presence. Contrary to whatever he expected, the young lady did not deviate his gaze. She did not lower her eyes as it corresponded to a modest creature, but she didnʼt flirt openly either. She just looked at him with a serious and melancholic air that trespassed his soul disrespectfully, making it impossible for him to take his own eyes off her. The seconds they both sustained the gaze seemed like ages and the young man wasnʼt sure if he really desired to reach the end of such a delicious moment. However, the woman was the first one to give up in that odd staring contest and he could notice that she slightly blushed, finally lowering her eyes. This last and spontaneous gesture of delicacy , appeared originally charming to the man and puzzled him even more, wondering who that contradictory creature could be. He also lowered his eyes trying to hide the smile that was drawing on his lips and when he tried to see the lady again, she was gone.

His insistent inquiries to find the mysterious Josephine dressed in a turquoise gown didnʼt work for the following two hours until he saw her at last, dancing with an old gentleman, both of them pretty involved in a conversation he couldnʼt hear. It was then when the orchestra stopped and the whole audience applauded the musiciansʼ performance. He moved among the couples until he reached the spot where she still was talking to the old man.

“Would you mind if I took your friend away from you for a second, Mr. Russel?” asked the young man with his politest tone, “This, of course, if the lady accepts to dance with me” he added addressing to the young woman.

“No problem, for me my dear fried, Iʼm sure youʼd make a better company for this young lady than the old me,” the chubby man chuckled moving his gray mustache funnily.

The woman remained in silence for a brief while, looking at the young man with the same strange intensity and the man kind of believed that she had slightly paled, but he was not sure about it. Then, when the gentleman thought that she was about to refuse his invitation, she simply assented in silence offering her hand to the young man as the orchestra played again.

They began to dance following the soft musical background. Amazingly for his usually self-confident manners, he felt too numb to start a conversation and since she was not willing to talk, they just danced in silence. He tried to look at her eyes again, now that they were so close to each other, but unlikely the moment before, she avoided his glance not allowing him to discover the color of her apples. What was happening to him, he wondered, that he felt so happy and at the same time so nervous in the presence of that stranger? How come he felt so allured by a woman that was not . . . ?

The trail of his thoughts was suddenly interrupted by the large ballroom clock that stroke midnight. The music stopped again and the host of the party urged all the guests to uncover their faces, for the moment had come to reveal each otherʼs identities.

The young woman slowly took off the white and turquoise mask that veiled her face, and the young man almost fainted when he discovered who he had been dancing with.

“It was nice to see you again, Archibald,” said a sweet voice he knew very well.

“Annie!” was all the young man could say, too astonished by the mixed feelings that all of a sudden exploded in his heart, “I. . .I . . . I didnʼt know . . . you were back!” he stuttered after a while, and immediately regretted his decision to talk when he barely could utter the words that gabbled in his throat.

“Iʼve been here for three months, already,” she said in a whisper.

“Annie! Annie!” another male voice called among the crowd and soon Archie could recognize a young man with black hair and bright green eyes that approached the girl with familiarity, “ Iʼm sorry I left you alone with Mr. Grant but I just couldnʼt get rid of that unpleasant Miss Loka. Are you fine?” the young man asked.

“Iʼm fine, Alan, I just found an old acquaintance. Meet Archibald Cornwell, he is Candyʼs cousin. Archibald, this is Alan Pagliari, a good friend of mine,” the young lady introduced the two young men politely and they both exchanged a quick handshake.

“Nice to meet you Mr. Cornwell, Iʼve heard a lot about your cousin Mrs. Grandchester, and I must admit Iʼm the first admirer of her husbandʼs talent. A gifted young man, indeed.” Alain commented.

“Tanks Mr. Pagliari,” responded Archie, his usual kindness all gone from his voice, which had unexpectedly became rude. He found quiet strange that the man he once had hated was being praised by another man who was awakening his sudden antipathy for a reason he couldnʼt figure out right then.

“As I said, Archibald,” Annie interrupted noticing that the atmosphere had suddenly turned dense thanks to the blond manʼs unexplainable dry reaction, “It was a pleasure to see you, now, if you excuse Alain and me, we have some friends over there who are waiting for us,” she said pointing to a small group of ladies and gentlemen at the other side of the room.

“Sure, it was nice to see you . . . and meeting you Mr. Parliari” Archie said with a slightly scornful air.

“Pagliari, the name is Pagliari, Mr. Cronwell,” replied Alan paying Archie back in kind.

The young couple walked away before Archie could respond to the other young manʼs provocation and he had to spend the rest of the evening upset and disgruntled, not able to understand the confusing feelings that all of a sudden exploded inside him.

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​

When Annie opened her bedroom door that evening, she threw herself on the bed, believing that her last remains of strength had vanished somewhere in that ballroom. She collapsed on the mattress, spreading her arms and breathing deeply. At last, what she had feared since she had come back to America, had happened. She had reencountered Archibald Cornwell, just to realize that he was even more dazzling and seductive than before.

When she had seen him at the other side of the room her heart had practically petrified. She had imagined so many times how she would react when such a moment arrived, but none of her rehearsed responses had worked out that evening. Instead of the polite nod and the care-free salutation she had practiced in front of the mirror for so long, she had just managed to stare at him like a fool and to make matters worse, she had ended up blushing at his insistent gaze.

That would have been enough embarrassment, but it seemed that the fortune was totally against her pride that evening. The idiotic man had invited her to dance and she had not had the courage to reveal her identity to him, naïvely hoping that he would never find out who he was dancing with. Then that annoying clock had to sound and her charade was discovered in the most humiliating way! If it hadnʼt been for Alan who rescued her so gentlemanly, she would have fainted right there and then.

Fortunately, her good friend didnʼt leave her alone again for the rest of the evening. The young man encouraged her even when Archie insolently displayed his attentions to another girl in the party for all the evening, until he left the ball with her.

“Come on, Annie,” Alan said trying to cheer up the young woman while they danced together, “keep that smile on your face. Donʼt let that ungrateful man see through your heart, he doesnʼt deserve it,” the young man, who knew well Archie and Annieʼs story, prompted her to pull herself together and Annie would invariably do her best to please her friend with a shy smile.

It had been a tough occasion, indeed, but she had obtained the sponsorship of two important businessmen in the city and had survived to her first encounter with Archie. Perhaps it hadnʼt come out the way she had planned it and she still felt ridiculous remembering her muteness, her faltering legs, her frozen muscles, and her altered beats when Archie took her in his arms again. Yet, she had to recognize that at the end of it all she had overcome the experience , but . . . would she really be able to fully overcome Archie?

The dawn entered the room while Annie was still thinking about Archie leaving the ball with that girl she didnʼt know.

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​

Perhaps Annie would have felt a lot better if she had known that Archie was not doing it quite well either. He had handled the situation to get rid of his shallow companion after the ball, but it had been kind of difficult because that woman was a common fortune hunter and was not going to let him go that easily. Besides, he felt kind of guilty for using the girl to disguise his incomprehensible nervousness, thus it was sort of unpleasant to make her understand that he was not really interested in her.

When he had finally released himself from the young woman, he got to his mansion and rushed to his bedroom to take a shower, hoping that the cold water would help him to clear up his messed up thoughts.

“Annie Brighton! Of all women!” he repeated to himself in disbelief while he rubbed his skin energetically until it turned bright red, “ How come I was getting so damn attracted to her when I was the one that decided to break up! And now, she turned me head over hills as only Candy did in the past . . . Candy!” he stopped his frenetic rubbing as he remembered what had happened during the previous three years.

Facing the pungent truth and accepting that he had lost Candy for ever had been just the beginning of a rugged way in which Archie had stumbled more than once. It was not an easy situation because, being closely related to her by affinity, he had to see her often and keep himself informed of her life. However, little by little the acrid pains began to decrease in force, and resignation slowly grew in his heart.

Against all his mistrust towards Terri, the young actor had proved to be a loving and irreproachable husband, so Archie could not complain about that, not even a bit. Candy was happy without question and her life couldnʼt be more blissful. Little Dylanʼs arrival had just enhanced the young womanʼs happiness, and at the same time, had reinforced Archieʼs realization of how impossible and useless his love was.

Each time Archie saw the Grandchesters, he was more and more convinced that Candy loved Terri in a way she could never love anyone else. The older Archie got, the more he understood that his childhood friend would never be the woman he needed, and as he observed the way Candy lived to please and love Terry, he began to feel the need to find a woman that could feel that same way towards him. Almost imperceptibly, Archie said a final good bye to his adolescent passion and entered adulthood with a conviction. He was a man that deserved to be loved just as Terri was, and he was determined to find the right woman. And that, certainly, could not be Candice White.

Nevertheless, he soon realized that the task was not an easy one. Being a powerful man was indeed a problem when it came to find a wife. It was not that the young ladies were not interested in him, but that they were so dazzled by his money and position that the young man couldnʼt say whether they were after him because of the man he was, or because of his fortune. So, he had become extremely cautious, not willing to end up with a broken heart again, which would have been too painful and even dangerous for his sanity after all the hard experiences he had lived during his teenage years. In other words, even though Archie wanted to find a woman to share his life, he was not willing to risk that much.

Time flew and he found himself becoming twenty five and being still a bachelor, while most of his friends and acquaintances were already married and had one or two children. Sometimes he thought that he would remain single and lonely for all of his life and that idea saddened him quite often. So far, his complex affairs had saved him from falling into a deep depression, but he wasnʼt sure how long he could go on that direction.

Then, all of a sudden, that beautiful woman in a turquoise cloud had appeared, managing to pull those anxieties he had believed dead inside him and he was so terribly unlucky that the girl had ended up being his former fiancée, of all the women on this Earth!

“What is happening to me!” he asked himself while the water ran through his body, “I know Annie since I was just a kid and she never, ever, made me feel this way! How come that out of the blue, she suddenly looks so . . so . . . so wonderful and self- confident . . and ravishing! She must have laughed at my stupidity for not being able to recognize her! I was dancing with Annie and didnʼt know it was her! How silly of me!” he kept on reproaching himself and so he continued trying to find an explanation for his reactions that evening without much success.

There were things in him that he just couldnʼt understand, that unforeseen attraction that almost hypnotized him, his rude responses towards Pagliari - who had indeed been even nice, until Archie himself started to behave irrationally- and his compulsive flirting with other women in the party! What the heck was going on?

The young man tried to answer to those alarming questions for the following two months, but when he found some of the responses he was looking for, he didnʼt like them at all.

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​

Annieʼs project couldnʼt go better. She had gathered all the funds she needed to begin building the school and was hoping to find more sponsors before her dream started to work officially. For the first time in her life she thanked her mother for having taught her to move in society, the young woman was sure that those skills had been essential in her success to convince so many people to support her cause. At least, she had found a good use for all the expensive and not quite practical classical education she had received during her childhood.

Moreover, her friend Patricia Stevenson was helping her directly and her husband was also sponsoring, the Pagliari family, the Grandchesters and William Albert – despite his being away in Calcutta- had also represented and important support for her to achieve her plans. She certainly had many reasons to be happy, then, why was she so restless?

There was one and only answer: Archibald Cornwell! With the poor excuse that his uncle Albert wanted to help the young lady with her school, Archie had gone to see her in the office she had rented in down town Chicago, in more than one occasion. Annie knew well that George could have done the job on Albertʼs behalf, then why did Archie insist on torturing her with his presence? Was it that he took an insane pleasure to see her suffer every time they saw each other?

Whatever it was what was motivating Archie, Annie didnʼt want to find it out, so she avoided him as much as possible and some times used her secretary Melanie Collins, as a shield to keep the young tycoon away from her. However, the young man continued appearing on her way over and over until one day the young woman got sick of the chasing and Liza Loka helped a little bit to worsen the situation.

It was in a tea party offered by one of Mrs. Brightonʼs friends, and Annie had not been able to avoid the invitation. For her great misfortune the dreadful Liza was also a guest in the party. The haughty young woman took advantage of the most insignificant opportunity to make Annie spend a bad moment. Candice White, countess of Grandchester was out of Lizaʼs poisonous reach, that was true, but her best friend Annie, always weaker and sensitive, was an easy target to discharge all her hatred and frustration for being still single whereas her old rival was happily married.

“What a surprise to see you again, dear Annie,” Liza said with studied movements, hugging the brunette and kissing her on both cheeks, “You look so elegant and on fashion with that new haircut.”

“Thanks, Liza . . . you look great too. Green is certainly your color,” Annie forced herself to continue with the auburn-haired womanʼs game.

“Iʼve heard youʼve been working hard on charity, lately. How altruistic from you!” Liza continued praising Annie, and the young brunette knew that the snake Liza was could bite at any time, she was just rattling before her attack.

“Itʼs not exactly charity in the usual way,” the young woman explained trying to direct the conversation to a safe ground where she could handle the situation, “Iʼm going to direct a school for special children, just the organization of the project is taking us quite a lot of work. It will be a sort of steady job rather than just a free time activity.”

“I see, but you must be used to hard work,” Liza pointed out incisively, “wasnʼt that way in Ponyʼs Home, my sweet?”

“That was her first thrust,” Annie thought as she prepared to respond, “Indeed, Liza, and Iʼm proud of the years I lived there and learnt the best lessons of my entire life.”

“Just like your dearest sis, Candy, huh?” smiled Liza cunningly. “Isnʼt it amazing how a girl of such a humble origin could have reached aristocracy. But in these days I could believe anything.”

“Thereʼs nothing to be astounded, dear Liza,” Annie hit back despite her internal fears knowing that Lizaʼs venomous tongue could use anything she said against her. “ This is an unfair world, but sometimes certain people get what they really deserve. So Candy is just harvesting what she previously sowed. You should see her son, he is such a beautiful babe and he takes so much after his father, who is so proud of him, by the way. Iʼm sure that more that one woman envies her so lucky position, while they canʼt even maintain a steady relationship.”

Liza went pale at Annieʼs comment intentionally addressed to that sensible spot that hurt her the most. But Liza was not going to give up so easily.

“And talking about relationships. How are you doing with the handsome young Pagliari? Iʼve heard that you are pretty close? Is that true?” the red haired woman changed the conversation.

“We are just good friends. No more,” Annie stated dryly.

“But there are so many rumors about you two, that I thought that you had finally got over my cousin!” replied Liza mockingly, while a dark shadow sweeping across Annieʼs face made the mean woman understand that she had finally touched that unhealed wound where her comments could do the desired harm.

" I . . . I . . . donʼt know what you are talking about,” Annie stuttered not able to say more.

“Donʼt worry dear, I understand how you should be feeling, especially now that Archie is courting my friend Leonora Simmons,” Liza stabbed again with renewed force.

“I dindʼt know!” was all that Annie could reply. Could Archie had become so cruel for being chasing her just to make her life miserable while he was going out with another woman?

“I know, it took all of us by surprise!” Liza went on, so glad for having recovered the control of the conversation that allowed her to make Annie suffer, “I think Archie just went crazy for Leonora, she is so . . so . .”

“So annoying, shallow, boring and dumb!” a masculine voice from behind Annie interrupted the conversation and the brunette didnʼt have to turn her face to find out whose voice that had been, “Does that accurately describe your stupid friend Leonora, my dear cousin? Or perhaps you want me to continue with the epithets, I have plenty of words to use, but Iʼm afraid none of them is nice,” Archie said scornfully.

“A..A..Archie!” exclaimed Liza turning red, “I didnʼt know you were coming to this party.”

“You can see well that Iʼm here and just on time to stop that dirty mouth of yours from spreading viperous rumors about my person. What did you just say about me and your stupid friend Leonora Simmons?”

“Well, I think it was all a misunderstanding . . . I thought that,” Liza mumbled trying to find a way to escape, without much luck.

“Ah….What a novelty little cousin, you thought!” Archie laughed with contempt , “I believed that was a task too heavy for your head! Watch out, it can burn and ruin that cute coiffure!”

“You are insulting me, Archibald!” Liza wailed utterly upset.

“Archie, please,” Annie interrupted judging that the young man was going too far with his cousin and her shy but firm voice was enough to make him stop.

“Sorry, Liza,” he said reluctantly, “It was just a little joke from me. You know that I love teasing you. I think itʼs my own way to show my brotherly affections for you, my cousin. Now, would you be so kind to excuse us?. . . Iʼm afraid that Iʼll take Annie away from you for a while, as the old friends we are, we have lots of things to catch up,” the young man explained taking Annieʼs hand and leading her away from Lizaʼs hideous tongue.

That was a weird combination of heaven and hell for Annie, who was so overcome by the young manʼs touch holding her hand, that couldnʼt get a single word out, while he took her along the garden to a place where they could enjoy of some privacy. There were so many things flooding her mind. First, Archieʼs constant persecution, which she didnʼt know how to take; then, Liza saying that he was sort of engaged with a girl and later, Archie denying it decisively and saving her from his cousinʼs presence as a knight in shining armor. Was this the same man that had put an end to their engagement because he was still in love with another woman? What part of the story she had missed that made it impossible for her to understand the situation?

“Wait a minute, Archibald,” she finally exploded, retrieving her hand from his, “I appreciate your help with Liza, but I think it would be better to return to the party,”

“Why? Are you afraid that your Italian friend can get jealous?” the young man asked bluntly.

“First of all, Archibald,” the young woman said getting upset at the blond manʼs tone, “Alan is not Italian, he was born here and so was his father. They see themselves as Americans because their family has lived here for three generations and though they are still proud of their Italian roots, they have the same rights as you and me. I just donʼt like that tone you used to referred to his origin as though it were a sin not being anglo-saxon!”

“Wow, Annie, I never thought you could get so defensive about your friend!” responded Archie partly upset by the brunetteʼs reaction, but also pleased to discover that the young woman had developed ideas that werenʼt in her head before.

“I havenʼt finished, yet!” she warned the young man as her voice raised more vehemently, “Second, there is not a reason for Alan to be jealous because there is nothing between you and I, as far as I know and third, I think we must put and end to this ridiculous persecution of yours! What do you want, Archibald, my friendship to make you feel less guilty? Spare yourself the pain. Iʼm fine and happy! You can go on with your life.”

“That is what you think, Annie?” the young man exclaimed stunned, “ Do you believe that I have been looking for you because I feel guilty? It is not so, Annie, not at all!”

“Then could you just explain it to me because I donʼt understand, Archibald!”

“Archibald, Archibald, Archibald!” the young man said frustrated as he opened his arms, “I donʼt know why you keep on calling me as though we were two strangers! Just a while ago when I was giving Liza a good lesson, you remembered the way my friends call me. I thought that I had regained your trust then and you would be addressing to me as you used to!”

“That was in the past, Archibald,” the young woman replied lowering her eyes and turning her back, feeling that the tears would not take long to show up.

“But it could be part of the present if we wanted,” the young man dared to say, sensing that the occasion he had been looking for had finally arrived.

“This is the reason I have been deliberately chasing you, Annie! Because I have realized that I lost my dearest treasure and I set up my mind on recovering it . . . on recovering you.”

“What?” the young woman said out aloud turning to see the young man directly to the eyes. She couldnʼt believe what he had just said! Was he trying to mean that he wanted to start all over again . . . as if nothing had happened?

“Iʼm saying that I want you back, Annie . . . Iʼm saying it was a mistake to let you go,” the young man admitted huskily.

“A mistake!” Annie responded feeling how indignation filled her chest. During more than three years she had worked hard and steadily to overcome her pain and mend her broken heart, far and away from her family and dearest friends, trying to silence her soulʼs internal cries as she devoted her life to help others, and here it was this man, saying that it had all been a mistake! She barely could give credit to her ears. “It is so easy for you to say that, Archibald! Tell me where have you been during all this time while I died of a million deaths? Dreaming of an impossible love, perhaps? And now you realize that it was all a mistake! I canʼt believe your arrogance!”

“Annie, please, I know I have been a fool, and I deserve your contempt, but Iʼve learnt my lesson . . . I swear”

“Iʼm really glad for you, Archibald,” Annie interrupted not able to withhold her tears anymore, tears of pain, but also of anger and resentment, “it is a real headway for you, but please just go on with your destiny and donʼt count on me for your future plans. How could I accept someone who first humiliated me? I know it was also my fault for accepting you when I knew you didnʼt love me. You are right, it was all a mistake and Iʼm not willing to make it again. To be honest, we both were a couple of fools, the difference is that I was a fool who loved you and you . . . you were just a heartless fool!” she last said before she ran away hiding her face with her hands and leaving behind a young man that didnʼt know how to solve the problem in which he had got himself thanks to a few wrong decisions he had made in the past.

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​

What had happened to Archie during the previous two months that led him to confess a feeling he wasnʼt aware of having in the past? Well, things were rather complicated for the young man since he saw Annie again in the masquerade ball. He felt terribly uneasy with the earnest and unexpected attraction he had first experimented that evening, not really used to feel that away towards any woman, except Candy. But, being frank, it had been a long time since he last had felt like that, so faded and blurred his passion for the blonde was by then.

During the days that followed, Archie debated with his own self to organize his thoughts about Annie Brighton who suddenly seemed so changed and attractive. He argued that he had just been shocked by her physical beauty, which had always been outstanding. Perhaps it had been the result of his great loneliness or that he had overreacted because of the mysterious effect of the masked lady walking along the ballroom and looking at him with a frank air, quite unusual in the other women he knew.

“Yes, it must be that,” he told himself and got satisfied with that explanation for a while.

However, his uneasiness did not let him in peace and things didnʼt get any better when he heard Neilʼs incisive comments about Annie and Pagliari during a family reunion they had at the Lokaʼs. Why was he feeling so upset because his former girlfriend seemed to be dating with someone else? Hadnʼt he gone out with several young ladies since he had broken with Annie? Wasnʼt that what he wanted, that both of them could be free to find happiness on their own? Archie posed himself those questions over an over until his head ached and his appetite and sleeping hours were reduced to the minimum.

During those long insomnious hours, the young man couldnʼt stopped remembering the past. Involuntarily, his mind took him back to the years of his first youth, and for the first time in his life, Candyʼs figure didnʼt appear as the center of his remembrance. It was another voice that he heard with the ears of his memories, another smile, a couple of eyes that were not green, a lustrous and silky hair that was neither blonde nor curly, moments he had shared with someone else he had barely thought about for long time.

He remembered Annie taking some food and blankets for him to the detention room when they were at school, the delicate handkerchiefs that she used to embroider for him every year for his birthday, the special smile that she would keep for him and only him, the so many details and good moments they had shared. Annie knew how to be the best friend a guy could need and he had to recognize he had missed all that since they had broken. But friendship is not enough for a marriage, and he had certainly broken with her because of that lack of passion within their relationship.

Then, to find Annie so damn attractive unexpectedly and remember her sweet affection at the same time, was making the whole issue even more complicated. On top of all that, the things he was learning about the new Annie didnʼt help that much either. Whatever he had considered frivolous or boring in the young woman, seemed to have been substituted by a new attitude that he found annoyingly alluring. Without noticing it, Archie ended up admiring the young landyʼs determination to build a school without her fatherʼs direct support, conquering her natural shyness to find the sponsors she needed. He barely could recognize the timid girl he once had met and for his great discomfort he adored the changes.

All of these considerations were forcing him to feel something he had never experimented before. He couldnʼt name what he sensed in his heart at the beginning, but as the days and weeks went by, he finally gave the feeling its proper name: regret! He regretted his break up with Annie Brighton! When Archie understood this unpleasant truth he started a compulsive campaign to follow the girl, with a constant, irrational and incontrollable impulse he could not refrain despite the internal voices which were yelling that it was a better idea to forget about the treasure he had already lost long time before.

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Candy felt the baby kicking inside her once more and led Dylanʼs hand to her abdomen, so that the boy could sense the new life growing in his motherʼs body. The young woman knew that the arrival of a second child was going to be a hard thing to take for the small boy, who was used to be everybodyʼs center of attention. However, Candy was conscious that it was a lesson Dylan needed to learn and she felt that all she could do to reduce the pain for her son, was to make him conscious that soon he would have to share his motherʼs affection with a new member of the family. Perhaps the almost three year old Dylan couldnʼt thoroughly understand the miraculous process that was taking place within Candyʼs womb, but the young mother tried to prepare him for the moment the best as possible. At the same time she reassured him constantly, knowing that he would need to be secure of his parentsʼ love more than ever before in his so short life.

“Here, it is the baby moving,” she told the little boy that looked at her in amazement as he opened his enormous blue eyes widely.

“Itʼs my brother!” Dylan said smiling as he felt the movements in his motherʼs belly.

“We still canʼt tell, my sweet,” she replied chuckling at the boyʼs security, “it could be a sister.”

“Itʼs a brother!” the boy insisted with a frown that reminded Candy of her husbandʼs expression when he was upset.

“Letʼs hope it is a boy, but thereʼs no guaranty about that, Terri,” she sentenced calling the boy with his first name, which she only used when Dylanʼs father was no around.

It was then when the train station employee announced the arrival of the express from Chicago. The young mother stood up taking her son by the hand and they both started to walk along the crowded platform with Dylanʼs nanny following them.

Candy searched among the throng until her eyes glittered at the sight of another young woman with a delicate straw hat, silky black hair that reached her neck and an elegant pink dress with drop waist. The blonde smiled and looking at the little boy by her side she told him:

“Itʼs aunty Annie, Terri!” she said with a wink, “Annie! Annie! Weʼre here!” the young woman yelled waving her hand till she obtained the desired effect as the brunette noticed her immediately.

“Candy!Candy!” shouted Annie forgetting about her usual lady-like composure and running to meet her friend. After a long trip, the brunette had finally arrived to the place where she hoped to find the support and advice she desperately needed, Candyʼs loving arms.

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The trip to Fort Lee was full of adventures for Annie Brighton with her friend Candy driving her brand new Oldsmobile Touring. Too independent to be always escorted by Terriʼs chauffeur, the young woman had insisted o having her own car until the actor, who couldnʼt refuse his wifeʼs desires, had presented her with an automobile for her twenty fourth birthday.

In spite of her natural adventurous temper, Candy had become a very careful driver, perhaps because of her motherly concern for her childrenʼs security or because the many accidents she had suffered when she used to volunteer as Alistairʼs guinea pig during the years of her adolescence. However, as soon as Annie learnt that Candy was going to be driving, the poor brunette almost fainted and all the time the trip lasted she remained practically clung to the seat, her hands clenched on the leather upholstery, her face white as an ivory figure and her eyes reflecting a childish fear she could not control.

Candy just smiled observing Annieʼs suffering, while she realized that no matter how much someone gets to change with age and life struggling, there are certain aspects in everybodyʼs personality that always remain the same. In the bottom of her heart Annie was still a little and fearful girl that cried looking at the tree while Candy climbed on it nonchalantly. And that wasnʼt the only thing that hadnʼt change in Annieʼs soul.

Later that afternoon, when they were already at the blondeʼs place and Dylan was taking his daily nap, Candy could confirm her theory: not only was Annie still afraid of height and speed, but her heart kept captured in the very same place.

When the two women finally got some privacy, Annie, not able to withhold her pain any longer, threw herself into Candyʼs arms and cried inconsolably. All the tears she had fought to hide from her old friend in the past, suddenly reached her eyelids and running out of strength and courage, the young woman let Candy see openly what the blonde had already guessed with the power of her sensitive soul.

“Oh Candy, Candy! I canʼt take this anymore! I tried to be as strong as you are, but I canʼt!” Annie said among her sobs and Candy lifted her friendʼs chin to see her straight to the eyes.

“Annie! It is all about Archie, isnʼt it?” the blonde said and her question was just meant to let her friend know that she understood what was happening in her heart.

Annie just assented quietly as a soft blush covered her cheeks.

“Oh Annie, you have been stronger than you want to admit!”

“But I didnʼt want to trouble you with my problems and here I am! I promised myself to be strong enough to deal with my pains all by myself, but I canʼt. It is just too much for me!” the brunette said regretfully.

“Annie, it is not a sin to turn to your friends when the days are cloudy. Besides, it is already remarkable the way you refrained your sorrow for so long and instead of paying attention to it, you invested your time getting yourself prepared to help others. You have certainly grown up a lot, girl!” Candy cheered her friend up.

“I thought that I was already over him. At least, it was easier when I was in Italy . . . “ Annie muttered with trembling voice, while her hands crushed the thin fabric of her dress.

“I know what you mean, Annie,” the blonde sighed remembering her own love chagrins, “it is quite different to stand on oneʼs own when the man you love is far and away, but once you see him again, everything falls apart, isnʼt it?”

“And he hasnʼt helped a bit, not a single bit!” Annie cried again.

“How come, Annie? What has happened with that stupid boy?” the blonde asked intrigued and the brunette told her the best that she could the story of her frequent encounters with Archibald since they saw each other again in the masquerade ball and the last argument they had in the tea party.

As Annie told Candy all that had happened, the blonde didnʼt know whether she should spank Annie or Archie for being so blind to their own feelings. Nevertheless, remembering that she hadnʼt been smarter the time she had faced the same problems, Candy decided to refrain her mouth, listen to her friend and give her the affective support she needed in that moment.

“It is funny how things look simpler when one is not directly involved in the problem,” the blonde thought. “Here you are, Annie, crying desperately because you have waited so long to hear Archie tell you those wonderful words, and now that he finally does it, you run away from him, not knowing what to do with the happiness that now knocks at your door. Is it so hard for you to forgive him and start all over?” Candy told herself.

Candy imagined that it was better to let the days pass and once Annie had regained perspective and serenity, she could do something to help her friends to reencounter the way they had accidentally lost somewhere in the past. That same evening, the young blonde told her husband what was going on, not able to hide anything from him.

“I think you should take that phone and call Archie to tell him that Annie is here,” was Terriʼs immediate reaction, which astounded Candy who knew well that the two men had never been pretty close.

“Oh no, I wonʼt do that now! She needs time to think well what she is going to do,” the woman replied while combing her hair in front of the mirror.

“Meanwhile that poor man is there in Chicago eating his own guts, huh?” Terri sentenced as he flipped the pages of the scrip he was reading, “You women are a cruel race! Iʼm sure you take an insane pleasure seeing us suffer. Am I wrong?” he added teasingly.

“Oh you!” the woman screamed and the man couldnʼt dodge a flying pillow that stroke just on his nose. “Guys sometimes deserve to suffer a bit!”

“Donʼt think you are getting away with that, freckles!” he threatened as he left the book aside.

“You wonʼt do anything to a pregnant woman, will you?” she boasted very secure of her powers over her husband.

“Wait till I get you!” he said moving faster that his words.

Candy tried to stand up and run to hide in the bathroom but her six month pregnancy didnʼt allow her to move as fast as she was used to and Terri didnʼt find any trouble to grab her before she could escape.

“Gotcha!” he said triumphantly holding her softly, “now Iʼll make you pay for that disrespectful hit on my nose.”

“Am I supposed to shudder or what?” she asked challengingly with a giggle.

“Well, you decide,” he replied with a deep kiss to which she responded immediately with her fingers tangling in his brown hair and caressing his nape, “Heavens, Candy, I still remember what a hell it is to live without you,” he whispered still kissing her.

“ Same here,” she told him getting lost in his iridescent eyes, “I see Annie and I see myself during those terrible days in France.”

“We were quite stupid then,” Terri laughed at the memory as he played with the young womanʼs curls, but turning serious the following moment he added, “I will never forget that I almost lost you for my stupidity. Please, donʼt ever run away from me. I donʼt think I could handle that.”

She took his hand and led him to the bed where they both sat as she rested her head on his chest.

“There isnʼt any place where I can be but this one, near you,” she told him in a dulcet tone and he gave her another kiss in response.

“I still think that we should tell Archie that she is here!” he insisted with a mischievous smile when the kiss broke.

“Donʼt you dare, Terrence!” she menaced him with a decisive tone he knew well, “Let me do the things my own way. After all, Iʼm the professional match maker here!”

“That is exactly what I fear!” he replied and again another pillow hit right on his face.

=========

​

Three days after Annieʼs arrival an employee from a flower shop took an expensive bouquet of rare white orchids to the Grandchestersʼ. The orchids, which were Annieʼs favorite flowers, came with a note that simply said: your heartless fool

When the young brunette read the line she just let the card fall and ran to the bedroom before Candy could ask her anything. The blonde took the note and immediately guessed that Archie was in town. Obviously, there was only one person responsible for that.

“I should be upset with Terri for this intromission,” Candy told herself, “but who knows, this might be a chance that makes those two men forget about their irrational antipathy.”

Candy ignored that she had been the main reason for Terri and Archieʼs differences, but was not blind to their obvious mutual coldness.

“Oh my!” she said aloud talking to the baby inside her, “Given the new circumstances, I suppose we have to think over how to approach your stubborn aunty Annie, sweet heart!”

========

​

What was going on with Annie? In the past, she had told herself in countless occasions that she was going to wait for Archie to really appreciate her value all the time that it was necessary. And she indeed did so, until he decided on his own that there was no use to keep on waiting. During the painful years that followed to the break up, the young woman had tried with all her might to convince herself that her teenage dreams were just that, mere dreams that she needed to forget to keep on with real life. She had worked hard on her courses, trying to do her best to please Maria Montessoriʼs high standards and to learn as much as possible to make her new dream come true.

Annie had decided that this time she was not going to rely on anybody to build up her future, nobody but herself, hence she made plans to devote her life to education. She had many projects in her mind that were just waiting for the right time; however, marriage was not one of them. At twenty four years old, seeing that her two best friends were already married and raising a family of their own, Annie imagined that she would end up as a spinster, just as Miss Pony. Oddly, this perspective didnʼt seem to her as dull as it had appeared when she was younger.

When her training had ended, the young woman understood that her return to Chicago would eventually mean a reencounter with Archibald.

Nevertheless, back in Italy, Annie had thought that she was ready to face her former boyfriend, or at least, she tried to convince herself she was ready. But it only took her to step on America for her to start quivering, dying of fear just to think about seeing Archibald again, finding out that he was even more handsome and seductive than before, or even worse, realizing that he was dating someone else, engaged . . . or married.

However, the last thing she expected was to be courted by Archie. The afternoon the young man confessed his feelings, half of Annieʼs heart wanted to run towards him, hold him tightly and tell him that she was still in love with him, but the other part, hurt and resented by the previous rejection was not willing to take him back. The memories of the malicious hearsays of which she had been the target after Archie had called off the wedding were still so clear that she found it very difficult to forget and forgive. Perhaps she was resented, or just too afraid of being hurt again.

Realizing that Archie was not going to give up so easily after his first attempt in the tea party, the young woman had decided to run out of town to see if distance cooled down Archieʼs insistence and helped her to clear up her mind. Thus, she left her projects in Melanieʼs hands and ran to the first place she could think of: Candyʼs house.

But then again, Archie had followed her to New York and was already putting pressure on her. The young woman didnʼt know what to do, especially when the orchids kept on arriving every morning always with the same note.

=======

​

It all had been very simple. An unexpected phone call, a brief conversation, a few instructions given to George, a suitcase, a hotel reservation, a train ticket and a hopeful heart. Given all of these conditions, Archie found himself walking among the crowded and messy atmosphere behind the scenery, following one of the theatre workers that was leading him to Terriʼs dressing room.

“Come in, the door is open,” said a deep voice that Archie immediately recognized. The young man entered then into a big room that was amazingly organized in contrast with the rest of the almost chaotic world outside. “Welcome to New York. Long time no see, huh?” was Terriʼs casual greeting as Archie closed the door behind him.

“Thanks. It. . it is nice to see you again,” the blond man said hesitantly as he held the hand that the actor offered him.

“But have a sit, man, would you like some tea?” Terri replied as he served himself a cup from a small tea pot he had near him.

“Tea will be fine, thanks,” Archie responded with an assenting gesture.

Both men sat down to sip the hot liquid while they casually commented about the last time they had seen each other. The occasion had been Mrs. Ayloʼs birthday party a year before and Terri still remembered how funny it had been to witness the shock on the old womanʼs face when she had seen Albert wearing that Hindu outfit he was so proud of, but which didnʼt seem to please quite much to the old ladyʼs occidental taste. The two men laughed at the memory and later Archie asked Terri a few questions about his wife and son, which the actor answered gladly for Candy and Dylan were his favorite subject.

“You should see Dylan, now,” said Terri proudly, “he is damn verbal and talks and talks all day long. Now that Annie is around he talks to her a lot. She says that he has a command of English that goes beyond the average for his age,” and getting to that point Terri cast an intended look towards the other young man, waiting for his reaction.

“How is she?” was Archieʼs immediate response and the young actor finally breathed released.

“Well, pretty and very mad at you,” commented Terri with a smirking smile.

“So it is true, Archie,” the aristocrat told himself while expecting his companionʼs reply, “You finally fell in love for Annie. Good! So now youʼll stop living that miserable life of yours, thinking of a woman you just canʼt have.”

“Mad?” asked Archie as though he were talking to himself, “I suppose it couldnʼt be different,” he added with disappointment.

“You are absolutely right, my friend,” the brunette man suggested with an elegant gesture of his right hand in the air. “Guys donʼt break with girls, stay away for years and then have them back just out of thin air.”

“Tell me about it! You should have seen Annie when I told her that I wanted to try it again. I never thought that a sweet creature like her could ever get so upset!” the man said as he rubbed his hand one against the other nervously.

“I know exactly what you mean, Iʼve lived with one of those so called sweet creatures for almost four years so far and I really know how angry they can get. And when talking about Candy it really means wildly angry!” the young man said in chuckles and his expressive face was so funny that helped Archie to relax a bit, “but you know Archie, Iʼd rather stay a hundred years besides a mad Candy than a day away from her. Though I must recognize that most of the times it is my fault that she gets angry. . . well, sometimes Dylan helps a bit, too, but he is also a guy.”

“It seems that is our genderʼs talent,” the blond man remarked with a sad smile.

“The point here is that we also have enough talent to make women forget why they got mad at us. That is what you need to do now,” the actor said cunningly.

“Really? I wish I had a slight clue on how to make Annie forget about the past, but I think she hates me now,” Archie said with gloomy tone.

“I think she is only a bit confused, but in the bottom of her heart she must be dying for you,” commented Terri and his words had the intended effect on the blond man whose eyes immediately lit up with hope.

“Do you think so?” he asked still doubtful.

“Well, Archie, as I see it, the best thing you can do is to be positive about the problem and start doing something now that you know where she is,” Terri suggested as he left the empty cup over the table.

“Thatʼs precisely the difficulty, I canʼt figure out what to do!” the man said exasperated.

“Women like simple things, start with flowers,” the other young man proposed shrinking his shoulders, “they normally work with Candy, and by the way, Iʼll have to order some roses for her when she finds out that you are here. I guess she is not going to like it.” he added smiling.

“Do you think she will be upset because of my presence here?” asked the young man astounded.

“She didnʼt want to let you know right away about Annieʼs being here. She insisted that it was better to give Annie sometime to think about the matter, but I supposed it wasnʼt a good tactic and it was not like I was going to let an old friend alone with all this.”

Archie amazement towards Terriʼs attitude was increasing at every second. Since he had received his call the day before, the young millionaire had not ceased to wonder why Grandchester was helping him after the not so friendly relationship they had always maintained.

“I. . . think I must tell you that I really . . . I really appreciate your help,” Archie said with great effort, “I wasnʼt . . . expecting this from you.”

“To be honest, I wasnʼt expecting it either, but life takes us through mysterious ways, Archie,” the actor sentenced with frank accent, “In a way I kind of understand your position because I went through something similar some time ago, and I know how it is to realize that one has been a real moron.”

“A moron I have been, yes!” Archie said with a sight, “I just hope that I can find a way to fix things up . . . but. . .”

“But what?” asked Terri intrigued to see Archieʼs hesitant glance.

“What if whatever I do fails?” he asked fearful

“When everything else fails , then you try begging. It worked for me, at least” Terri smiled and Archie understood his meaning.

========

And so the days went by, Archie sending flowers and notes asking Annie for the opportunity to talk and the young brunette refusing to see him again despite Candyʼs insistence to give the young man a chance. It was as though the good memories Annie had shared with Archie had all been practically erased by the bitter resentment she had carried for years after the break up. Candy knew that Annie was hurting herself even more by denying herself the right to release the feelings that she still kept inside, no matter how hard she tried to hide them. However, it seemed that Annieʼs pungent pains had built a barrier that even Candyʼs friendship was not able to destroy.

As a last desperate attempt the young blonde prepared an encounter to take the young brunette by surprise. It was the occasion of a charity performance that the Stratford company presented to contribute to Annieʼs schoolʼs cause. A few days before the date, the flowers had stopped arriving at the same hour every morning and Annie started to believe, partly relieved and partly disappointed, that Archie had finally given up and returned to Chicago. Thus, she went to the theatre with certain confidence.

That evening, both young women spent quite a good time preparing themselves for the occasion. Annie had chosen a beige satin dress that reached her ankles and a set of pearls that matched with her outfit, while Candy, trying to find something as comfortable as possible for the suffocating summer evening, was going to wear a light linen white dress, with outlet ornaments. As the blonde buttoned the dress in front of the mirror with lazy movements, enjoying the vision of her pregnant profile, Annie observed her with thoughtful air.

“What is it?” asked Candy curious to see that sort of empty expression on her friendʼs face.

“I . . . I was wondering,” Annie said hesitantly.

“What?”

“Candy, can I ask you a personal question?” inquired the brunette and the serious tone of her voice intrigued the blonde.

“Sure!”

“What . . .what is it like to be you, Candy?” Annie finally asked and her

question left Candy with her mouth wide open.

“To be me? What a question Annie! I wouldnʼt know how to answer!” Candy replied astounded, “ I . . . I suppose that it is . . . quite good! I mean . . . Iʼm happy!” she honestly said.

“I mean more than that, Candy . . .What is it like to be married, to have a child of your own, to run a house you call home, to be . . . to be pregnant . . . to be loved by a man?” the brunette irrupted in a rain of new questions.

“Well . . .now you are posing many questions, and none of them has a simple answer,” Candy responded starting to understand what was going on with her friendʼs heart, perhaps better than Annie herself. The young woman sat in front of her dressing table and looking at her friend through the mirror she smiled softly, trying to figure out how she was going to reply to her friend. “Annie, do you remember how many times when we were little we dreamt about having parents?” she finally asked.

“Yes,” Annie said intrigued with Candyʼs words.

“ We closed our eyes and tried to imagine the best as possible what it would be like, right?” Candy continued as she put on a pair of golden drop earrings, “Now tell me, you got the chance to see this dream come true. Was it all what you expected?”

“I think it was a lot more than we ever imagined, Candy” admitted Annie.

“Sometimes better, and others not as unrealistic as we once figured it out. My relationship with my mother, for example, has not been as perfect as I once believe it could be,” Annie concluded with a sigh.

“But, despite those difficulties, do you regret having been adopted?” Candy continued asking while looking for the choker that matched her earrings.

“Not at all!” was Annieʼs immediate and vehement answer.

“On the contrary, I will never be able to say that, because I was never adopted in the way you were. Albert was always sweet and caring, but it was not as though I had a mother and a father,” Candy commented naturally and as she saw Annieʼs sad expression she hurried to clear up. “No Annie, donʼt be sad for me, life has paid me off. I canʼt complain because I consider myself exceptionally lucky. What I was trying to say is that in order to really understand what having parents means you have to live the experience. Marriage is something similar,” Candy explained leaving the dresser and sitting on the loveseat next to Annie.

The young brunette looked at her friend with puzzled eyes and Candy tried to clear up her meaning.

“Annie, being married to a man one is so deeply in love with, as I am with Terri, and being loved in return, is perhaps the most overwhelming and delightful experience a woman can have. All the consequent blessings that come with marriage are just part of the same package, the good times shared, the laughter, this mysterious happiness that comes with pregnancy, the joy of motherhood, and the pleasures of physical love that people are so afraid to talk about, so pure and wonderful that I canʼt see how they were once considered sinful. However, not everything is perfection and pleasant moments, there are also bad times, arguments, differences, moments in which I am so tired of running after Dylan all day long that I just want to sleep and never wake up, though I have to find the energies to stay up and wait for Terri to arrive home in the evening, in order to give him some time, after our son has fallen asleep, . . . Yet, when I put all that in a balance, as you do with your childhood memories as an adopted child, I can only say that I wouldnʼt change my place with anybody on Earth. But then again, all that I can say about it, means nothing, until you have the experience, and only then.”

“I. . . I see,” replied Annie stunned by Candyʼs words. Feeling that an acute pain began to hurt inside her clearly, the young woman had to change the conversation, “I think Iʼm going to my bedroom to . . . to . . . to pick up my purse,” she stuttered leaving abruptly and running into Terri, who was entering the room in that precise moment.

“What happens to her?” the young man asked amused at his wifeʼs friendʼs embarrassment when the young woman had disappeared mumbling an excuse, “I think that despite the years she still thinks that I am a terrible monster everybody should fear!”

“It is not that, love,” Candy replied giggling, “it is only that her heart is crying so loudly that she wonʼt be able to keep on mishearing it for a long time,” the young woman sentenced helping her husband to put on his golden cufflinks.

=======

​

Two young women walked slowly along the theatre halls talking in hushed voice as they moved their fans with gracious air. One of them was brunette, with large and melancholic brown eyes and soft manners that transpired elegance at every one of her steps. The other was blonde, with sparkling emerald eyes, had a special brisk smile and was pregnant. They had come out from the dressing rooms area and were heading towards their box. As the ladies walked away, another young woman, apparently one of the actresses wearing an old fashion costume, looked at them from the distance and soon another girl joined her and began a conversation.

“Look at her!” said the first woman with the XVIIth century outfit, “she peacocks proudly as though her pregnancy were a trophy. Really pathetic!”

“My, my, my! How bitter! Are you jealous, Marjorie?” asked the second woman scornfully.

“Me?” replied the woman with glittering violet eyes, “Not in a million years. Having children and raising a family is not part of my plans! It is just that I canʼt stand her.”

“But we must admit she is very lucky!” the second woman admitted reluctantly.

“I donʼt believe in luck, Lucy,” responded the first woman arching her left eyebrow in a characteristic gesture, “The so charming Mrs. Grandchester must have used a good deal of tricks to tie the knot with Terrence. I donʼt buy her innocent and sweet masquerade.”

“Do you think so, Marjorie?” wondered Lucy with a malicious sparkle in her yellow eyes, “ But we canʼt tell, they were already married when we both started working for the company. I wish I had been here before to find out how she managed to get him just for herself. You know, feminine curiosity!”

“You wish too little, Lucy,” replied Marjorie artfully, “If I had been here during that time I would have gotten that man for myself! A romance with such a royal man must be quite an experience, besides, it would represent a great breakthrough for my career as well . . . Yet, not all hope is lost,” she last hinted with a sly look.

“What do you mean, you bad girl?” asked Lucy enjoying Marjorieʼs malicious insinuations.

“Well, I mean that the man who can resist my charms has not been born yet . . . I have my mind set on those handsome blue eyes, you see. Itʼs all a matter of time . .”

“Itʼs good to hear you are patient, Marjorie, because Iʼm afraid youʼll become an old woman and die before Terrence even realizes that you exist, sweetie,” commented a third voice with scornful air.

“Karen!” the two novice actresses said at the unison when they discovered that Karen Claise, the company leading actress, had been listening to their conversation.

“It is so depressing to see how many so called little actresses like you, dear, think that they can make a career relying on their love affairs,” Karen continued looking at Marjorie disdainfully. “If you are figuring out that Terrenceʼs fame will help you to make a name in this business, then you are fighting a hopeless cause, darling. That man is the weirdest creature of his gender Iʼve ever known. Iʼve lost count of all the women who had tried to seduce him and he has royally ignored, making them suffer a very embarrassing humiliation, by the way. I donʼt believe that your weak attempts could ever represent a real threat for his wife. Therefore,” Karen said getting close to Marjorieʼs right ear, “I suggest that you start working on that talent of yours, if you have any . . . But remember, in this company the leading actress is called Karen Claise and it requires more than a cheap slut to beat me!” she last said casting on both women a spurning look that mortified Marjorie just as much as Karenʼs words.

“Third call!” said a male voice and then Karen left them behind, walking with proud steps towards the stage. Marjorie knew that she couldnʼt say or do anything against the star who was one of Broadwayʼs most important young actresses, but she promised herself that she would make Karen eat her words.

=======

​

The theatre was full to the top with celebrities and members of the New York jet set that evening. The Brightons had good relationships with different important families in the city and the already famous combination of the Stratford Companyʼs prestige and Terrence Grandchesterʼs talent had made the rest to sell all the tickets regardless the high price. When Annie saw the obvious success of the charity performance she couldnʼt feel but deeply satisfied and grateful with her friends for the support they were giving to her cause. She thought then that it was really odd how things were ending up so well, in spite of her problems with Archibald. She had traveled to New York fleeing from the young millionaire insistence, but never figured out that the trip would give her the opportunity to collect more funds for her project. Everything would have been just perfect if she only had been able to stop thinking of Archibald over and over.

Candy apparently ignored the disquieting turmoil that was bothering Annie during the play. The blonde simply indulged at Terrenceʼs work as she normally did it every time she saw him performing. Annie noticed that from time to time, it appeared that the whole world vanished for Candy, as though the theatre, the casts, and the audience didnʼt exist. On the other hand, even when Terry was captivating the entire audience with his performance, for someone who knew the couple intimately, it was clear that his every word, and movement and gesture were addressed to his wife and to her only, in a sort of unique connection that no other human being was able to break. Hence, it was a little strange when all of a sudden and in the middle of one of the most moving scenes, the blonde left her companion alone with the excuse that she needed a handkerchief that she had forgotten in Terryʼs dressing rooms.

Annie tried to convince herself that it was one of Candyʼs new eccentricities provoked by her pregnancy and did her best to keep concentrated in the play. However, the soft noise of someone entering the box just a few seconds after Candy had left, made Annie understand that something was going wrong, especially when she could perceive a very familiar wooden fragrance invading the air.

“Enjoying the play?” asked a masculine voice with quiet tone.

Annie then could feel how a man sat down just behind her and she knew well who he was. For a moment she thought about running away but for her disgrace she felt practically stuck to the seat, as if the impression had paralyzed her.

“Would you mind if I keep you company instead of our dearest Candy?” the man murmured again and Annie sensed his breath near her nape.

“Leave me alone!” she replied and her voice faltered.

“Not until you accept to have a word with me, at least,” Archie argued breathing deeply the lily perfume in Annieʼs hair.

Annie didnʼt respond to the young manʼs threat but remained in silence for a while deliberating what to do in such an embarrassing situation and blaming Candy for her distress. It was too obvious that it had all been the blondeʼs idea.

“All right, letʼs get out of here and have that conversation,” she suddenly said surprising the young manʼs with her abrupt reaction.And so, the couple left the box.

“Here we are, what did you want to say?” asked Annie nervously, fearing the effect of Archieʼs proximity once they reached the corridor.

“What I have to tell you is too private to be ventilated in a public place. Wouldnʼt it be better to go out of the theatre and find somewhere else?” he suggested seriously.

“Iʼm afraid I canʼt leave this place, the play has been organized to gather funds for my school and after the function there will be a reception to thank the public, I have to be there,” she explained nervously while she unconsciously crushed her purse with her hands.

“Then letʼs go to the halls in the gallery section. Thereʼs nobody there tonight,” he proposed and the young woman agreed with a shy nod, but internally, Annie wondered why she had accepted when she was dying of fear to find herself alone with Archie.

Notwithstanding the young womanʼs reluctance, the couple walked slowly and in silence until they reached the gallery area. The young man invited the brunette to sit down on a couch placed in the corridor for the audience comfort during the interludes, and she followed him without saying a word or raising her eyes to look at him.

“Annie,” Archie finally managed to say, trying to find the young womanʼs eyes, but realizing that she was stubbornly looking at the floor, he had to continued talking, not able to read Annieʼs emotions in her irises, “Iʼm aware of the pain I caused you in the past, and I know that you have the right to hate me,” he began.

“You are giving yourself too much importance, Archibald. I donʼt hate you. That feeling is totally alien to me,” she responded still deviating her eyes but with an acrid flavor in her tone that contradicted her words and perhaps hurt Archie more than hearing from her lips that she actually hated him.

“Then it would be easier for you to hear me and perhaps understand my views. Annie,” the young man replied trying to do his best to remain collected, “I wish you could get into my heart and realize how much I regret the way I behaved. I had a precious treasure in your honest and sincere affection that I just couldnʼt appreciate because I was blinded by an illusion. At the end of it all, this chimera proved to be no more than just that, an impossible dream that vanished, leaving me empty and lonely,” he admitted humbly losing his sight in the neoclassic decoration of the walls.

“Are you convinced now that Candy is too much in love with Terri to ever see that you were crazy about her ?” she said bluntly surprising Archie with the direct approach she had suddenly chosen.

“I can see that you are pretty aware of my troubles,” he accepted sadly. “You are right, what she feels for her husband is so strong that she would never ever see another man but Terri. In fact, I have finally admitted that their love is so special that it is a crime to even imagine one of them without the other. They have a private world, and thereʼs nobody who can irrupt into it and break the perfect balance they have created,” he avowed and Annie was surprised to feel that his voice didnʼt sound bitter or resented, “When I was younger, Stear, who was always wiser than me, sensed that strange bond between Candy and Terri and simply gave up his feelings for her. However, I couldnʼt handle the situation, I just didnʼt manage to accept and get over until I got to see her married with him,” he added with a sigh full of regret.

“I could recriminate you for getting involved with me despite your feelings towards Candy, but I recognize that it was also my fault, because I was aware of your feelings and yet, decided to wait for you to change. I shouldnʼt have accepted that relationship since the very beginning. I was too young and naïve back then,” Annie said raising her eyes from the floor for the first time and looking at him pensively.

“Annie . . . I donʼt regret the time we spent together, all on the contrary, now I understand that the moments Iʼve lived with you have been the best ones Iʼve had in my whole life,” he urged himself to respond plunging a vehement gaze into the girlʼs honey eyes.

“Archie!” she mumbled with trembling voice lamenting her own moves that had led her to see him straight to the eyes. It was so difficult for her to resist those almond irises, especially when they were looking at her as they had never done it before.

“It feels so good when you call my name as you used to,” he exclaimed hoarsely, feeling slightly encouraged by the unexpected weakness that Annie had revealed.

“It . . . it was only a slip of my mind . . . perhaps an old habit,” she responded abruptly trying to recover the healthy distance she was trying to keep. However, Archie was not disposed to retreat.

“Old times is what Iʼd love to have again,” he told her while he got dangerously closer to the young woman.

“The past doesnʼt come back. . . I . . . I think this conversation doesnʼt . . . doesnʼt have any purpose . . . I . . .” she stammered trying to flee from his proximity but he responded reaching her arm with his right hand. The skin on Annieʼs naked upper arm and in the young manʼs hand burnt at the touch and paralyzed the girlʼs attempt to stand up and run away.

“Please, let me finish what I have to tell you. Annie,” he almost begged with his sweetest accent without loosing his grip on her arm. “ My heart has lived in confusion for a long time, and in my bewilderment I couldnʼt understand the feelings I had for you. Of course I cared for you, by my obsessions didnʼt allow me to see you in the way a man needs to see the woman that would be his wife. When I finally realized that I have set my eyes in the wrong girl you were already away in Europe and I thanked God for that, because I didnʼt want you to see me in the humiliating depressive state that I underwent in those days,” he paused and the unanticipated change on the young womanʼs attitude as he talked about his own suffering give him strength to go on. “I know youʼve suffered because of me and thatʼs the only thing Iʼve done that I really regret, but my life has not been easy either. It was very difficult for me to stand on my feet again and begin to accept that Terri had won. Later, I began seeing things from a different point of view and thought that I also deserved to find a woman that could love me. . . so I looked for her, but for a reason I donʼt know, my search had been unfruitful until . . . until I saw you again in that party.”

“You know Archie,” she interrupted him with gloomy accent, “In the past Iʼd have loved to hear those words that you are saying, but now . . .I donʼt know if I should be listening to you . . .” she said releasing herself from his hand with a fast move.

“Please, let me tell you that my heart quivered when I saw you at the other side of the ballroom,” he insisted as she turned her head trying to hide the tears that were already reaching her eyes. “I didnʼt know that it was you, but something inside told me clearly that the astonishingly beautiful lady in that turquoise gown was not as the others I knew. For the first time in all my life I felt a strong attraction towards you, which instead of disappearing when I realized who that mysterious woman was, it has only increased till the point that I just canʼt stand anymore to be away from you,” he confessed earnestly.

“What should I feel now, Archibald? Should I congratulate myself because I finally could arise your lust? You donʼt know me if you think that Iʼll be happy with such news,” she complained bitterly, trying to join all her resentments to keep herself safe from Archieʼs menace.

“No, Annie, you donʼt understand,” he responded feeling afraid of having used the wrong words. “What was missing in my heart somehow finally found its right place since I saw you again . . . It is not just the physical attraction, though I have to admit that you are driving me mad since that evening . . . it . . .it is a lot more than that. It has been a sort of sudden insight. Free of my old obsessions I could finally appreciate the jewel I had in your constant love and care and I found myself missing you . . . needing you to the point that it hurts. Annie, Iʼve realized that I love you . . . I love the woman you have become, but also I clearly know that I loved you in the past, but was too confused to understand it,” he explained so vehemently and sincerely that Annieʼs heart almost gave up in that moment.

“Archie!” she whispered turning again to see the young man against the many alarms in her head that were preventing her from doing so.

“I love you,” he said when his eyes met hers.

“It . . . it . . . it is so sad to hear you saying that now, when Iʼm not willing to go back to the past,” she mumbled weakly trying to defend herself from the turmoil of feelings that was exploding inside her as Archieʼs love confession invaded her soul with a sweet flavor she had never known before.

“The past is gone, Annie. What I am proposing you is to build a new future. Annie, at least give me a chance to prove that things can be different between you and me. Give this love a new opportunity,” he pleaded with all his hopes set in his honest words.

“A future . . . another man has already talked to me about a future,” Annie mentioned in a last desperate attempt to erect again the barrier she had built between the young man and herself, which he was easily destroying with a few words of love.

“Pagliari, isnʼt it?” he guessed bitterly, not able to hold his discomfort, blend of sadness and disgruntlement.

“Yes, and . . . when Iʼm with him I donʼt feel so scared as I feel with you . . .You hurt me, so deeply . . . that Iʼm afraid I canʼt overcome this resentment,” she blurted and in that moment the tears rolled on her cheeks making Archie feel even more confused with the so many contradictory messages she was sending to him. Desperate, the young man felt that the thin thread that was holding his impulses was about to break.

“Annie. Let me try at least to . . . ” he didnʼt finish saying because she suddenly stood up from the couch indicating that she was not willing to continue with the conversation, “Annie!” he called her running behind her and intercepting her a few meters away. The young man, already lost in the fear of loosing the woman that he loved and not able to control himself anymore, took the girl by the shoulders softly forcing her into an embrace.

The young woman gasped at the unexpected gesture and even though her mind was urging her to run away from Archieʼs arms, her heart was beating so fast that her whole body paralyzed and her muscles didnʼt respond to her brainʼs commands.

“Iʼm lost!” was her last thought before Archibald brought his lips upon hers.

“And I must confess it was . . .” Patty had said to Annie once when talking about the first time Tom had kissed her.

“How?” asked Annie curiously in that occasion.

“Pleasant!” had said Patty shyly.

And pleasant was a poor word to describe Annieʼs feelings in the moment Archieʼs mouth met hers, caressing the tender surface of her lips with a touch that was at the same time passionate and soft. Annie could not even move, but she didnʼt need it for her will was totally surrendered to the physical interchange as the kiss, her first love kiss ever, intensified more and more. Despite the numb state in which she was, the young woman could perceive clearly how Archie slightly trembled with emotion when she instinctively allowed him explore the wetness of her mouth in a more intimate exchange. Yes, pleasant was not enough, perhaps alluring or enticing could be closer and yet, the feeling was even more overwhelming when she realized that he was touching her with the passion she had always wanted and dreamt about . . . Same passion that before, Archie could only feel for another girl that was not her.

Another woman. . . . . he had always been in love with another woman. . . . . Could that be different now? Annie wondered and that weak vestige of hesitation made her head win over her heart and her resentment cry louder than her love. With a fast reflex of her hands the young woman pushed the young man violently freeing herself from his grasp.

“How have you dared?” she screamed outraged, shedding tears of ire and fear, “Get away from me. I donʼt want to see you again ever! Get out of my life!” she cried while she covered her lips with one of her shaking hands.

“Your response to my kiss told me a different thing!” he said losing his last remains of patience, too worked up by the contradictory emotions that he was experimenting.

“I thought you were a gentleman but I see that youʼre not! Alan would have never treated me in such a way. Now I know that he is a better man. This is it, Archibald. Donʼt ever get on my way again!” she blurted unadvisedly, not measuring how her words tore Archieʼs heart into pieces.

The young man stood up there, looking at her in silence, fighting with all his might the tears that were crowding in his throat.

“There is no use, then,” he thought for a second, too hurt by Annieʼs words to keep on pleading. However, a last trace of strength blended with his regrets for having done the wrong move allowed him to try once more.

“Annie, I understand that you are very upset now and perhaps you are not saying what you really mean.. I . . . Iʼm really sorry for my behavior . . . but I beg you, reconsider.

“I have nothing to reconsider!” she replied crying and covering her face with her hands. She would have wanted to sound strong and decisive, but the roller coaster of her emotions was going too wildly to fake the façade she would have loved to show, and once again, her voice hesitation, which said one thing meaning something different, made Archie insist.

“Tomorrow in the afternoon, Iʼll go to Candy and Terriʼs place to see you. I hope that you give yourself the chance to think about my proposal.”

“I donʼt need any time to think.”

“Iʼll see you tomorrow, anyway,” he last said leaving her alone with her own tumult.

========

​

How had Annie gathered the force to come back to the Grandchestersʼ box and attend the party after the play? She would never know it. The memories of that night would always be blurred and confused after the moment she last heard Archieʼs voice saying that he would see her the following day. She didnʼt even have the strength to tell Candy how upset she was with the blonde for having prepared the encounter with the millionaire. When the brunette came back to her room in Candyʼs house after the reception, she could only throw herself on the bed, crying herself to sleep.

The following day Annie didnʼt go out of her room to have breakfast with her hosts and Candy had to assert her pleas until the young woman finally let her come in the bedroom and told her what had happened the previous evening. Candy was amazed to see how her friend was still resisting to the screams in her heart, but what really marveled her the most was Annieʼs stubbornness when Archie finally arrived, as he had promised.

The young blondeʼs entreaties were not enough to convince Annie and made her accept to see the man again. In vain Candy tried to reason with her, Annie would not listen and finally, angry at her friendʼs obstinate position, the young blonde left her alone, fearing that she was about to lose a life time chance to be happy.

“Iʼm so sorry, Archie,” Candy told the young man sadly when she came back into the studio where the millionaire was waiting with Candyʼs husband.

“Then this is the end, I guess,” said Archie huskily. “Time really erased me off her heart . . . Perhaps I have just been fooling myself all this time, believing that she could forgive and forget . . . “

“Archie, I still think she loves you dearly, but she is just too confused,” Candy replied trying desperately to save her friendsʼ happiness.

“No, donʼt say more Candy, it only would hurt more,” Archie replied sadly.

“But . . .” Candy was going to insist, but a discrete look from Terriʼs eyes was enough to make her understand that she had to give up. As a man, Terri knew that Archie had done all that he could to recover Annie, but it seemed that his best was not sufficient. With the heart broken and the soul dismayed, to recover the lost pride was all that was left for Archie.

“What will you do now?” asked the actor with serious tone.

“What else?” replied Archie with a sigh. “Go back to Chicago and keep on with life. I guess I donʼt have another option, do I?”

The young couple assented to the young millionaire words in silence as they escorted their friend to the front door.

“Iʼll leave tomorrow morning. Thanks for all your help, I know you tried all that you could,” said Archie kissing Candyʼs hand and hugging Terri good bye.

“Weʼd have loved to be of more help,” replied Candy visibly saddened seeing that Annie was about to lose the man in her life the moment he got into that car which was already waiting for him.

“You could do a last favor for me, Candy?” asked Archie with plain tone.

“Sure,” the blonde assented.

“Tell Annie, that . . .that I wonʼt ever bother her again and that I hope that she can find the happiness she needs with Alan, or with any other man she chooses,” he last said before getting in the car.

When the automobile started to move away, Archie last saw his old friends waving their hands, standing on their front yard, and once more he felt a jab of envy. However, this time the feeling was different. Archie wasnʼt jealous of Terri for having Candy, but he envied his luck for having the woman that he loved by his side, whereas the one Archie loved, had chosen to turn his back on him.

“Have it your way, Annie, and make both of us miserable for I donʼt think Iʼll ever recover from this last disillusionment,” he told himself while he finally allowed himself to cry.

=======

​

Candy would have loved to shake Annieʼs shoulders, slap her on the face and make her react, but she knew that her friend wouldnʼt answer to such approach, so she decided to play it cool. When Archie had left, she went again to Annieʼs room and told her exactly what the young man had just said and before she left the room to answer to Dylanʼs cries that were calling her from the living room, the blonde said with light tone.

“Well, now you can be happy, Annie. He said he wouldnʼt bother you anymore and I really believe it. You can go back to Chicago and continue with your projects. With time, heʼll get over and find another girl,” she said intendedly before closing the door behind herself.

Another girl . . . the idea echoed in Annieʼs mind over and over and didnʼt give her a moment of peace for the rest of the evening. The young woman practically carved a whole on the wooden floor of the bedroom as she walked in circles for hours, not able to find herself at ease. She didnʼt go out or the room for dinner that evening and Candy didnʼt insist, thinking that it was better to leave Annie deal with her demons. A bit of fasting doesnʼt harm anybody, the blonde thought still hoping that her friend would soon react.

Late that evening, Annieʼs stomach began to protest and she finally thought that it would be good idea to get herself at least a glass of water. So she left the chamber and came down to the kitchen. She was in there when she heard Terriʼs car parking, so she knew that the young man had come back home after his performance that night, and at the same time she perceived a little noise, as the clink of bells.

Afraid that the noise could have been made by a rat hidden somewhere in the cupboard, Annie went out of the kitchen and got into the dinning room. For her great disgrace, the noise was even louder there and she was about to open the door that took to the living room to flee towards her chamber, when she heard Terri opening the front door.

“What are you doing there?” the young man asked with a chuckle, but Annie knew that he was not addressing to her because she had carefully hidden behind the dinning roomʼs door and he couldnʼt have seen her.

“Daddy!” responded a tiny voice coming from the stairs with cheerful accent.

Annie barely opened the door and then she could realize that what was making the mysterious noise had been Dylan coming down the stairs and dragging a huge teddy bear, almost as big as the small boy, with a couple of golden bells tied to its neck.

“Shouldnʼt you bee sleeping by now, young man?” asked Terri coming closer to the boy and pretending to be upset with his son for being up beyond the hour that was allowed for him. The little kid simply looked adorable standing there, wrapped in a cotton night shirt with a wide smile in his sweet face, his intense greenish blue eyes shining with joy to see his father and his silky brown hair in a cute disarray. It was obvious that Terri was making an effort to remain serious.

“It rained Daddy, Baboo was afraid and couldnʼt sleep!” the boy said with a pout referring to his teddy bear.

“I see,” Terri commented withholding his laughter at the funny excuse, “But it doesnʼt rain anymore. Come, here, Iʼll take you to bed now and you both will sleep. Do you understand?” Terri said affectionately and Dylan immediately responded opening his arms to be taken by his father.

“There you are, you two!” said a feminine voice from the top of the stairs and Annie recognized Candyʼs voice.

“Mommy! Daddy is telling us a story!” said Dylan excitedly as Terri gave the bear to the young woman.

“Hey you liar!” Terri protested looking at his son, “I never said I would tell you a story”

“Daddy!” was Dylanʼs pleading response and that was enough for his father to consent.

“All right, but then youʼll sleep. Is it a promise?” Terri asked and Dylan replied with a mute nod.

Candy smiled in delight as the young man approached to her, kissing her fully on the lips, holding Dylan with one arm and surrounding her shoulders with the other. The young boy was already used to see his parentsʼ open displays of affection and even though he couldnʼt understand many things, he could sense the love between them and that somehow made him happy. The couple disappeared from Annieʼs sight and all of a sudden the young woman felt even more depressed. Candyʼs words kept sounding in her mind:

“Annie, being married to a man one is so deeply in love with, as I am with Terri, and being loved in return, is perhaps the most overwhelming and delightful experience a woman can have . . .But then again, all that I can say about it, means nothing, until you have the experience, and only then.”

Annieʼs tears came back to her eyes and she just couldnʼt stop shedding them for the rest of the night.

The following morning, before the servants arrived, Candy woke up very early, feeling sort of uncomfortable because of the baby inside her was restless. After all, she was reaching the seventh month of her pregnancy and things were becoming more difficult for her. The young blonde took a shower and got dressed, taking a deep breath as she opened the window to let in the summer morning breeze. The rain had left a fresh sensation in the air that encouraged her to start with her duties earlier that morning. She silently left the bedroom to not interrupt her husband sleep, who usually stayed in bed till late because of his evening job.

The young woman entered in Dylanʼs room and once she had made sure the boy was still sleeping with angles, clung to his enormous teddy bear, she went down to the kitchen where she discovered Annie crying inconsolably.

“Oh dear!” the blonde exclaimed as she ran to hug her friend, “Dear, dear, Annie!”

“Candy! What have I done!” Annie finally said among her sobs.

“Something not very sensible, Annie,” Candy avowed with the sweetest tone she had, but still making her friend understand that she had made a mistake. “However, it is not anything we canʼt solve,” Candy said searching for Annieʼs face.

“I think I just ruined it all yesterday. He wonʼt ever forgive me the humiliation and now that heʼs gone. . . I just canʼt stop thinking how much I love him!” Annie admitted regretful.

“Iʼm so glad that you are recognizing it, at last! Thatʼs a real breakthrough. What made you understand it? For a moment I thought that you would never open your eyes and see the reality!” the blonde commented as she gave Annie a handkerchief she had in a pocket of her dress.

“It was . . . it was you . . . and your family!” mumbled Annie looking at Candyʼs green eyes that regarded her without comprehending her friendʼs meaning.

“Last night . . . I saw Terri taking Dylan in his arms and the three of you. . . so close and at ease with each other . . and happy . . . and suddenly I understood I wonʼt ever have that kind of happiness with any man, unless . . . unless I have it with Archie. . .but now it is too late! He begged for my forgiveness, swallowed all his pride and I only snubbed him cruelly!”

“No, no, and no!” Candy responded with a firm resolution in her eyes, “This story wonʼt end this way, not if I can do something about it! Come on, Annie, wash your face, get dressed and be prepared to get your man!” the blonde commanded.

“What do you mean?” asked Annie confused.

“I mean that we are going to the train station before Archie leaves. Now get dressed while I call Dylanʼs nanny. Sheʼll be here in no time and Iʼll give you a ride to the station!”

“But, Candy . . .” Annie weakly protested, but the determination in Candyʼs eyes was so clear that she didnʼt dare to contradict her friend and obeyed in silence.

Thirty minutes later the two young women were practically flying in Candyʼs car, who had suddenly forgotten her driving manners and was running across Manhattan streets as she nervously eyed her watch from time to time.

“Could you please slow down, for Christʼs sake, Candy!” Annie pleaded with the face paled and the hands glued to the seat. “That was a traffic light that you just ignored!”

“Come on Annie, this is an emergency!” replied Candy nonchalantly while turning on a corner with a fast twist of her wrist, “If you let Archie take that long trip to Chicago, then he will have time to think and get even more resentful and hardened! You have to talk to him right now, when he is still vulnerable. Believe me! I know what Iʼm doing! Men are a proud race.”

“Candyyyyyy!!!” Annie wailed in panic whilst her friend kept on racing through the busy avenues.

Fortunately, that was Candyʼs lucky day and she managed to arrive at the station without getting a ticket or having an accident. Later, the blonde would wonder how she had driven so madly despite her being with a child, but the results of her efforts made her feel less guilty.

“We are still on time,” Candy told Annie with a smile while she parked, “Come on, cheer up, gal! He must be waiting in the platform by now. Go to him, and please donʼt come back to visit me until you have a ring with Archibaldʼs name engraved on it! Donʼt worry about your stuff, if you decide to go back to Chicago with him right now, Iʼll send your baggage later on. Now, go for it!” Candy winked mischievously.

“Oh, Candy!” said Annie still gasping and with the cheeks flushed with the emotion, “Wish me luck!”

The two women hugged each other briefly and later, the brunette left the car and soon disappeared among the crowd that flooded the station.

Annie rushed looking around but unfortunately, she couldnʼt see anything but a vast mass of heads moving along the platforms. Suddenly, it appeared that all Manhattan had decided to travel that morning. The young woman asked an employee for the train that was about to leave for Chicago and the man indicated her on which platform it was. The passengers were already getting on.

The brunette, with the heart speeding up in a crazy rush, looked desperately along the platform, checking every male face that she encountered, but without finding the eyes she was looking form.

“ARCHIE!” she started to yell over and over but didnʼt get any response and her heart was about to explode thumping louder with each new beat, menacing with leaving her deaf.

Desperate, she climbed on the first class section looking at all the wagons unfruitfully. It was then when the train started to move and she was forced to get off by one of the employees.

The young brunette, not having any option, reluctantly came back to the platform and with the heart broken into minute pieces, she had to see the train leaving the station, whilst the multitude continued moving up and down, not paying attention to the slender young lady who silently started to cry, feeling that she had lost for ever the man in her life. The feeling was acrid, pungent and it hurt as any other pain she had ever felt before.

“Oh Archie!” she said aloud, not caring about the oblivious throng around her, “I love you, I have always loved you, I always will . . . and I have been the greatest fool in this story, for letting you go, when God knows that there isnʼt and there wonʼt be any man in my heart but you, only you my beloved Archie.”

“Are you sure about that, Annie?” asked a masculine voice behind the young woman and her heart turned upside down.

“Archie!” she exclaimed out of breath, as she turned to see the young man standing on the platform, with his luggage on the floor next to him and looking at her with a renewed hope shining in his eyes. “Oh, Archie, of course Iʼm sure about it!” she replied in tears, as she ran to hug him and he received her tenderly in the soft warmth of his embrace.

“Tell me this is not a dream that Iʼm having, tell me it would last for ever,” he muttered at her ear with shuddering voice.

“It will last as long as our hearts keep on beating . . . and who knows, maybe after then,” she responded lifting her face to see herself reflected on the glittering almond surface of Archieʼs eyes and this time, she was neither afraid to plunge in his depths, not ashamed when he bent his face to kiss her again.

From a reasonable distance a young woman looked at the couple while they kissed as though the world was going to end the following minute. The blonde woman smiled satisfied while rubbing tenderly her swollen abdomen.

“Well, dear, weʼd better come back home now. This time I promise you an easy and save ride,” she told her baby and with slow pace she walked towards the spot where she had left her car.

That day Annie and Archie came back to Chicago and they would have gotten married the day after if it hadnʼt been for Annieʼs motherʼs pleas, who besought her daughter to give her some time to prepare a decent wedding, and for Candy, who was not in conditions to travel for such a long distance. So the couple had to wait three months, that seemed like ages for both of them, until Mrs. Brighton had everything ready as she had always dreamt and Candy had already given birth to her second son, Alben, a little blond thing that would eventually have freckles on his face with the effect of the sun light, but also possessed the greenish blue eyes that were the Bakerʼs trade mark After all, the maid of honor could not miss such an important date.

Six months later, the Alistair Cornwell institute opened its doors as the first school for mentally disabled children in Chicago.

 

[domniki]

Part III

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​

A teacher in a farm

 




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Many things changed for women during the twenties. After decades of suffragette’s struggle, women conquered their right to vote in England and the United States and since many activities had been abandoned by men during the Great War because they were fighting, the female race proved the world that they could do men’s jobs and still bring up a family if the situation required it. When peace came back, women had already realized that they could do many things and have a life on their own outside their homes. Somehow, the disenchantment suffered because of the war’s devastation and the desperate search of a new order in the years that followed, made human kind turn its back on the XIX century’s moral principles and with that new point of view the American middle and high class began to see women’s role with a different perspective.

The United States went through a period of euphoria. Unlike the European countries, the Great War had not devastated the Yankee land and at the end of the conflict, things had turned into a great business for American banks and industries, revealing the nation as a thriving economical and military power. In the middle of this flourishing America, which appeared more relaxed, careless and festive, a generation of young people faced the great changes that would finally start the XXth century, leaving behind the Victorian atmosphere. It was this changing and dazzling world that inaugurated Candy’s adulthood and with her, all the young people that had shared their childhood and adolescence with the young woman, also entered into a new and exciting period of their lives. However, those changes would also bring conflicts and Patty O’Brien was not exempted of those troubles.

Patty had become Mrs. Thomas Sstevenson in January, 1919 and since then, she had lived in Tom’s farm in the outskirts of Lakewood. Mrs. Martha O’Brien had moved to Pony’s Home to work with Miss Pony and Sister Lyn, but her grand daughter and grand son in law visited her very often. Martha used to say that whatever life had taken away from her during her youth, it was paying back generously, because, for the old lady, the best years of her life had started precisely the day she had stepped into Pony’s Home to stay there for the rest of her days.

With Albert’s, Candy’s, Annie’s and Tom’s generous contributions along with Martha’s initiative, Pony’s Home had finally become a larger institution that could lodge a total of 100 children, instead of the 20 it used to admit in the past, and give them support and education till the age of 18 if they didn’t have the luck to be adopted before that time. Of course, for such a task the tree venerable women that ran the place had to hire new personnel and more nuns from Sister Lyn’s order were sent and trained to help in the orphanage. With so many things to think about and take care of, Martha didn’t have much time left and so, she barely noticed that Patty had become quieter and melancholic, especially after the birth of her fourth child in 1922.

Perhaps Patty would have gone on, hiding her secret troubles the rest of her life if it hadn’t been for Candy’s visit during the spring of the following year. It only took the blonde a couple of days staying with the Stevensons to notice that something was not going as well as Patty pretended.

During Candy’s stay in the farm, the young Mrs. Stevenson got sick with fever, thus, the blonde had sent all the kids, including hers, to Pony’s Home in order to have enough time to take care of her friend. During one of those evenings, while Patty slept, Candy sat down in the front porch next to his childhood friend and cast an intended look that the young man immediately felt.

“What is it, Candy?” asked Tom intrigued by the blonde’s gaze.

“That is exactly what I would like to ask you, Tom? What is happening with, Patty?” demanded Candy with the same authoritative look she used to employ to scold Tom when they were little.

“So, you have noticed it, haven’t you?” said the man lifting his head, as he tried to lose his sight into the golden color of the sunset.

“Of course, I have. It is not the fever, that’s something that will pass very soon, but beyond the physical symptoms that she has right now there is a look of discomfort, uneasiness. . . Tell me ,is it something between you two?”

“Oh, Candy,” the young man sighed with the eyes plunged in the horizon, “I would give all that I have to discover what it is that she has. It’s been so for the last two or three months since Joshua was born, I think. And even though I had directly asked her what is it that is making her feel so badly , she always denies it and insists saying that she is just tired because looking after the children and running the house takes all of her energies,”

“And do you believe that, Tom?” asked Candy.

“Of course, I don’t, but she wouldn’t accept that something is going wrong . . . and at times . . . Candy, it is getting too difficult for me to observe how she consumes herself into her depression and I just can’t do anything about it,” the young man explained with husky voice as his lips began to tremble slightly.

Candy sat down next to the young man and with the tenderness of a mother she padded on Tom’s shoulder. For a second, he had been reduced to the small child she remembered, confused and scared, like the day he and the blonde got lost in the woods during a storm.

“Tom, do you remember the time we two lost our way in the forest near Pony’s Hill?” Candy asked with pensive tone.

“You mean the day that we were competing to collect wild strawberries?” Tom said with a sad smile, “How could I ever forget, I think that was the worst summer storm I’ve ever seen”.

“Indeed, and we were scared to death and soak to the bones, huh?” Candy remembered with a chuckle.

“Tell me about it!” the young man exclaimed beginning to get more involved in the memory, “You know what terrified me the most then?” he added aiming at Candy’s green eyes directly.

“What?”

“I felt responsible for your security because you were smaller! I was so afraid that something could happen to you . . . If it had been so I wouldn’t have ever forgiven myself for challenging you to get into the woods!”

“I never figured out that you were worried for me!” the blonde commented surprised with the young man’s confession, “but something I had very clear. I was certain that even though you were as scared as I was, the two of us were together in that problem, and somehow, feeling that you were near me, gave me confidence,” the young woman added smiling.

“And it also hurt less when Miss Pony and Sister Lyn punished us after the storm, huh?” Tom chuckled remembering how they had to clean the stable and forget about dessert for a month.

“Yes. . .” Candy sighed, and later added thoughtful, “you see, Tom, I’ve found that even though we are not a couple of five year old kids anymore, some things still remain the same. Tom, you and Patty are part of my family, and I know we’ll always be there to stand by the other’s side. Count on me for this problem, we’ll find a way out of this storm” Candy added hugging her friend and they remained in silence for a while, until Tom began to feel again that hope was reborn in his heart.

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Candy stayed with Patty during all the time that it took her to recover from the fever. As always, Patty felt relaxed and more confident with the blonde around and little by little Candy began to comprehend what was going on with her friend. The blonde called Dr. Martin and the good man asked for a permission in the hospital to travel to Lakewood in order to take care of Patty. God knew that the old doctor would have done anything for the young woman that had helped him out of alcoholism, even if it meant to use his holiday leave to take care of a patient.

Both, Martin and Candy, soon agreed that Patty was going through a post labor depression, and perhaps the hormonal unbalanced she was suffering from had been enhanced by a chain of little frustrations and hidden troubles which hadn’t allowed the young woman to overcome the problem. Perhaps the best medicine that Patty could have was a friend to listen to her and nobody would do that job better than Candice White.

It took Candy tones of patience and loving care to look after Patty as though she had been her own daughter, but the blonde’s efforts were finally rewarded when certain day Patty decided to speak up. It was very late in the evening and Candy was reading Terri’s new play at the light of a lamp while her friend slept. She raised her eyes from the page thinking about her husband and she couldn’t avoid a sigh escaping from her lungs.

The young woman’s mind returned again to its favorite place where Candy cherished all her dear memories related with her husband. She saw again those sparkling blue eyes that she loved to behold as they opened when the morning light entered their bedroom, and couldn’t refrain her desires to have wings and fly to be with Terri in that moment. After four years of marriage, Terri had decided to begin a long tour along the country, something he hadn’t done in a long time. Candy was trying her best to cope with his absence but the truth was that she was not the same without him, especially when he had already been away for over two months and every time the young woman went to bed she missed his warmth by her side. However, her maternal instincts kept her going, knowing that a mother could not give herself the luxury of having the blues. The young woman knew that more than ever before she had to maintain herself cheerful and positive for her children and for Patty’s sake.

“You miss him, don’t you?” asked Patty’s weak voice from the bed, surprising Candy who thought that her friend was deeply asleep.

“Yes, with all my heart,” Candy admitted with a sad smile.

“How can you put up with that, Candy?” Patty inquired sitting down on the bed with certain difficulty, “I mean, with him being away so often because of his job.?

“Well, I guess that I’m simply used to the idea,” Candy replied with a teasing wink and Patty admired again her friend’s ability to overcome her blues and look cheerful overnight, “I knew things would be so since always. He is an actor and traveling is part of his life. With two kids and a part time job I can’t be following him every time he goes on tour.”

“I suppose, but it must be harsh anyway,” commented Patty with a soft tone almost imperceptible.

“Yes, but there are other ways of being away from the people you love that are more hurtful and difficult to bear,” the blonde said intentionally expecting that her words would help her to open a new way towards Patty heart.

“What do you mean?” asked the brunette, confusion and a bit of fear reflected in her dark brown eyes.

“I mean that sometimes people stay away from the others, isolating themselves as though there were an enormous distance between them and the rest of the world. If you love someone who is constantly setting a distance and doesn’t let you reach his or her heart, it is pretty hard to feel yourself so near and so far away at the same time and not being able to do anything to shorten than invisible gap.” Candy explained intendedly.

Patty stood in silence for a while, without moving a single muscle of her paled face and Candy understood that an internal fight was taking place inside her friend in that very moment. Outside, the rumor of an unusual spring shower filled the air with the rhythmic fall of light and fresh drops bathing the fields.

“Why are you saying this to me, Candy?” asked Patty breaking the solid silence that had invaded the room.

“You know it already, Patty,” Candy responded leaving the rocking chair and sitting down on the bed, next to the brunette, “You have been away form your family longer than Terri, and perhaps Tom has been missing you twice as much as I’m missing my husband right now,” Candy said straight away and then waited to see the young woman’s reaction.

“Oh Candy!” said Patty breaking into tears and throwing herself into Candy’s arms where she cried for long minutes while the blonde fondled her tenderly and the rain kept on washing the tiled roof.

How long did Patty shed her tears and let her sobs run across her throat? The brunette would never know exactly, but she would always remember that after the well of her crying apparently dried out, she felt the most urgent need to open her heart and vent all the oppressing frustration that were bothering her as a couple of lead blocks over her shoulders.

Patty had married Tom just a few months after Candy and Terri did the same and in that time she had given birth to four boys, almost one every year. Not only had the physical effort being enormous, the colossal responsibility that had suddenly fell on her shoulders had been so overpowering that she had barely had time to think of herself. All of a sudden she was supposed to run a farm house - something she had never even imagined she would have to do - look after a husband, who was as demanding as all men are, and take care of her kids, all in the same package. Even when Patty was very much in love with her husband and adored all of her children, it seemed that her life was becoming an endless list of duties that didn’t allow her a single second of rest.

On the other hand, the young woman couldn’t refrain herself from comparing her life with her two best friends’. Annie had certainly undergone very difficult times, that was sure, but at the end she had found her own way and was actively involved in her school by that time. On top of that, the young woman had recovered Archie’s love, something that nobody believed possible, and had finally married him the previous year. The Cornwells didn’t have any children yet, but Annie and Archie were not in a hurry because the young Mrs. Cornwell still had many projects to accomplish with her institute, which was growing at an amazing speed.

Candy, on her own, was as always the perfect example of independence. The blonde had learnt to combine her nurse career with motherhood, working for the Red Cross as a volunteer and at the same time it seemed that having children had only enhanced her natural beauty. Being a mother had worked changes on Candy, of course, but they all had been for the better and Patty admired her friend’s maturity and also the subtle elegance that she had acquired without loosing the characteristic charm of her carefree and liberated manners. What had Candy done so well that marriage hadn’t forced her to stop being the person she used to be, but turned her into a better woman? That was a question that Patty often asked herself when she saw her tired face on the mirror at the end of every exhausting day.

During her years in Florida, Patty had obtained a school teacher’s certificate and had worked in a elementary school for a year in spite of her father’s disapproval, but when Candy had enrolled and left for France, Patty quitted her job to travel to Chicago and be with Annie during those dark days in 1917 and 1918. After that, she had married Tom and nothing had been the same.

Candy listened carefully to Patty’s confession. She noticed how her friend felt unfairly guilty for her hidden desires of independency and her longings for a life that was not reduced to her domestic responsibilities. It was that mixture of guilt, repressed rebelliousness and frustration that had taken away Patty’s spirit, progressively pushing the young woman into the pit of depression since the moment she had found out that she was pregnant again for the fourth time in four years. After her youngest son’s birth, everything ended up falling apart and she couldn’t do anything to gather the pieces and start all over again.

Patty’s problem had taken long time to grow and it was not overnight that it was going to disappear, but that first move the young brunette made to open her heart, letting her friend see into her quiet sorrows, was the beginning of a slow recovery. Patty was not surprised when Candy extended her arms to hug her, reassuring her confused heart with words of understanding and acceptance. The young woman knew that such an attitude was part of Candy’s nature, but even though she didn’t expect less from the blonde, she couldn’t avoid feeling grateful.

What really amazed Patty was how naturally Candy went straight to the center of her problem once the brunette had calmed down. First of all, the blonde made Patty understand that there was no reason to feel ashamed for desiring a little bit of privacy and dreaming about accomplishing something beyond motherhood and marriage. Later, with all the delicacy that Candy could use, she suggested the brunette that she had to talk with Tom about that problem of having a child every year. For Patty, it was not easy at all to even think about birth control, an issue that was barely mentioned in those days when the first contraceptive methods appeared and there was still a lot of reluctance towards their use. However, Candy was so tactful that the young woman accepted to hear what her friend had to say about the topic and promising to give a thought to the matter she slowly fell asleep while Candy was still holding her hand.

Candy cleared up her forehead moving away an unruly curl that was falling over her eyebrow and trying to move with a cat’s stealth, she stood up and went back to the rocking chair. She continued her reading and her thoughts flew again towards the man she loved.

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A couple of days after that rainy evening, Patty finally talked with Tom privately and even though Candy never knew exactly what had been said in that conversation, Tom’s reddened eyes and Patty’s released attitude when they appeared in the dining room for the supper, made the blonde understood that they both had opened their hearts, digging into the rough terrains of their weakened relationship. The two of them had made a few mistakes that had obviously hurt them, but were willing to struggle for the love they both shared and the family they had build up. That was all that Candy needed to know.

When Patty felt strong enough to start taking care of her house and family, Candy packed her stuff and went back to New York with her two children. She felt that after the darkness in which Patty and Tom had lived for several months, there was a dim light shyly blinking at the other side of the tunnel. The young couple was still on the way out of their personal trench but this occasion something was different, after a long time of walking alone, they were starting to make headway while holding hands, and that was the most important thing.

Patty and Tom didn’t have more children. They discussed the matter carefully and decided that they already had the family they wanted. On the other hand, when the Stevenson’s youngest son reached the age of one, Patty made up her mind to go back to teaching and her husband supported her gladly. The project started in a very small scale, as a school for Tom’s employees’ children and with time it received kids from other farms and nearby villages. All of the Stevesons’ children learnt to read and write in their mother’s school and in the process they also acquired a healthful sense of democracy and equality sharing their games and school work with the people that worked for them.

Patty Stevenson still had to go through another difficult trial. Her parents never accepted her marriage with a man of an inferior social condition and never replied to her letters, no even when Patty sent them a photo of her strong and good looking kids. Perhaps Mrs. O’Brien would have loved to see her daughter again and meet her grand children, but she was too afraid of her husband to disobey his orders and since she died before him, the poor woman never had, neither the courage nor the opportunity to reestablish her relationship with Patty.

Notwithstanding the loss, Mrs. Stevenson did not falter, but grew stronger out of that pain. It was true, life was not a tour around the moon, but during the spring of 1923, when her friend Candice had taken care of her during her illness, the young blonde had also taught Patty a lesson she and her husband would never forget: bad times can crack a marriage building, but love, honesty and tolerance will sustain it until good times return to build up new walls. Patty and Tom’s marriage survived successfully and lasted for all the time that God allowed them to live.

When Candy came back home after her stay in Lakewood that year, she opened her house doors, tied an apron around her waist and along with her maids started to clean the rooms in what she used to call her spring time thorough cleaning. She was full of energies and very pleased with the results she had obtained as a match maker. In about 15 months she had helped Archie and Annie to settle down as a married couple and had given a hand to Tom and Patty to reorient their relationship. Candy’s kind heart was swelling in joy with the idea of having been useful for the ones she loved. Unfortunately, she ignored that very soon she would need her “love counseling” skills for herself. Would the doctor be able to prescribe the correct medicine for her own disease?

While sweeping the studio Candy accidentally pushed a table and the porcelain vase that was on it fell to the floor. The water drenched the carpet and the impact pulled off the roses red petals. Candy felt unexplainably sad, after the incident.

 

 


Part IV to be continued...

 


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Note


The writer of this beautiful story hasn't continued it. We all hope that when she does, she will share her creation with the rest of us.