Carole’s head spun around when a voice declaring that a special news bulletin was about to air interrupted the dramatic presentation she’d been listening to on her Philco console. Setting the dish she’d been drying on the shelf, she walked closer to the radio, hoping and praying that the report had something to do with her daughter.
WDWS reporter, Alfred Jennings, is reporting that the FBI and the Illinois State Police have trapped one of America’s most notorious and elusive public enemies, Jack “Pistolwhip” McGrew in a farmhouse between the small communities of Ogden and Homer. McGrew, who is wanted for a laundry list of major offenses including murder and armed robbery, has so far resisted demands to surrender. At this point law enforcement have not made a move to apprehend McGrew. It seems they are perfectly willing to wait it out. We will break into programming if there are other further developments. Now back to “The Lux Radio Theater.”
The phone’s ringing drew Carole Hall’s attention from the radio. Turning the volume down, she walked into the kitchen and picked up the receiver. She was surprised when the operator informed her that George was on the line.
“Hello.” His voice sounded so good to her ears.
She paused, took a deep breath, and replied, “Hello, George. How are you doing?”
“Better,” he assured her. “I haven’t had a drink in a couple of weeks. I’m eating and sleeping pretty well again, but it still hurts.”
She bit her lip. “I know it does. Mr. Mondell called today. He asked about you. Told me he has a place for you when you come back.”
The line was silent for a few seconds. Finally George asked, “What did that call mean today? You know, the one from Helen Meeker.”
“She’s got a lead, that’s about all I know.”
His voice was shaky as he continued, “And the man, Mitchell Burgess, she thinks he was involved?”
“George, she wasn’t real clear on that point. But I think so. Mr. Johns came by later and told me that the FBI seems to be pretty sure that Burgess was a part of it. I still don’t know why. Maybe we’ll know more when they find him.”
“If they find him,” George corrected her.
“If,” she wearily agreed. “You have to admit, it’s a lot more than we had.”
“Yes,” he agreed. “Of course, up until now we’ve had nothing.” He paused before asking, “Carole, do you think Mondell was serious about my having a job if I came back?”
“I know he was,” she assured him. “Do you want to come back?” Her voice was tinged with apprehensive hope.
“Maybe after Christmas. I don’t think I can face Christmas at home, but maybe I could come back after that. I miss you, sweetheart, much more than you’ll ever know.”
“I miss you, too,” Carole answered. “And I need you, George. I really do. I really need you at Christmas, too. So please don’t wait that long. I can’t face the holidays alone.”
He didn’t immediately answer. In fact, the line was silent for so long she thought he might have hung up. But finally his voice came back on. It was so soft she barely heard him.
“I love you. Good-bye.”
After she set the receiver back in its cradle, she crossed the kitchen and opened the back door. She made her way out into the cold dampness of the fall evening. Opening the side door to the garage, she switched on the light and looked at the boxes she’d packed away earlier in the year. Walking over to the closest one, she pulled the lid open and looked in. There was a Shirley Temple doll staring up at her. As tears clouded her eyes, she whispered, “I’m sorry that I gave up on you. I’m sorry I tried to close you out of my life. I still love you; I really do, Rose.”
Closing the lid, she picked up the box and walked back into the house with some of Rose’s most precious things in her arms. She crossed the kitchen to what had been her daughter’s room. Then, not really understanding why, she flipped on the light and began to unpack the box. There might not be a chance in a million that her little girl would ever come home, but if she did, this room would be ready for her again.