Chapter Twenty-Eight

Winona, Flagstaff, Seligman, Kingman. City signs floated by as the train veered south to Yucca during dinner. “I wonder if Bonnie Mae and Tom are engaged yet—I hope Helene stays far away from her from now on.”

Al, his mouth full of what the menu called refried beans, made no reply. The sun sank and the sights disappeared. They went to their compartment after the train roared over the California border.

“Better sleep tonight. Tomorrow’s the big day.” One last glance out the window showed a mileage sign for Needles, California. Dottie dozed off thinking about how a town like that got its name. For once, Al seemed to fall asleep easily, and so did she. When she woke, he’d already slipped away without waking her. By the time she dressed, he came to find her.

“We’re close to Santa Monica, Dot.”

“Isn’t that where we take one of those electric buses to Los Angeles?”

“That’s right. California’s a glory, honey. Come and see.”

“Can’t believe I slept so long.”

“You’ll need it, with those little ones waiting for their grandma.” He dug into their bag and passed her some toast and a boiled egg he’d saved from breakfast. “I’ll go find you a cup of tea. By now, they’re headed to meet us. Bet Cora’s excited.”

A shiver ran through Dottie, but his hand on her arm steadied her. She could hardly wait to see Cora and the children. But Cora’s voice sounded strained last night on the phone.

At least there’d been no static, but a person’s tone revealed so much. Dottie would bet her last boarding house pay that Cora had troubles.

“Something bothering you?”

“Not that I can explain right now. I didn’t like the tremble in Cora’s voice.”

The conductor called their stop. “Can you manage my jacket and these two bags? I’ll run straight for our baggage so we don’t miss the bus.”

“Whatever it’s like, we’ll face it together, all right?” They left the train, and he issued instructions. “Stay right here, now. I’ll come back for you.”

He clutched her hand for a brief moment before running off. Chills ran over Dottie’s shoulders in spite of the warm day, in spite of knowing for certain Al would be back. She stared at the crowd on the platform. No one even carried a coat—it felt as warm as July outside.

Her jitters decreased when Al dragged their suitcases over, and within half an hour they boarded a streetcar. Its battered green fenders almost dragged the street, and a sign on the front announced Union Station. A single headlight centered below the front window. From the roof, a black cable connected to a line running down the track.

Despite that old suffocating sensation threatening, Dottie steeled herself to board. She’d come too far to falter on the very last leg of their journey, and Cora waited at the other end.

Al sheltered her with his arm. “Look around us, Dot. Doesn’t seem that different from Iowa in summertime, do you think?”

Deep green fields stretched in every direction—was that onions she saw, a whole field of them? Roadside stalls of fruit and bright flowers, and white cottages with children at play drifted by. Dottie found herself back in that restaurant on the way to Waterloo, when Al asked her to marry him. He stumbled over his words, and volunteered to chaperone her on this trip before professing his love or producing her engagement ring.

But every move he made that night bespoke sincerity. He truly did love her—she’d never felt it more than at this moment. Even though the streetcar tilted precariously around corners, he never let go of her elbow.

Still, she couldn’t shake what seemed like a premonition. Did it concern Al, or Cora and the children—Dottie couldn’t tell. Though she bade it vanish, a few seconds later, it returned, as real as the intriguing scenes on both sides. And then the car screeched to a stop near a mass of people waiting near a small wooden platform. Dottie swallowed her gut reaction to flee and searched for Cora.

She couldn’t find her in the crowd—what if no one came to pick them up? Finally, a child’s cry rose above the faces, and Dottie’s heart raced double time—was that the voice she’d heard over the telephone?

At the platform’s far edge, a little boy a head above the crowd waved his pudgy hand—surely, that must be Jeffy Owen. Yes, he had dark hair and eyes like Dennis. But the woman standing beside him, midriff distended, feet wide apart—could that be Cora? Dottie reached for Al’s arm.

“I see them. The baby’s in that carriage—see, Cora’s leaning on the handle. Oh, Al. she’s sick. She’s real sick. I can tell from here.”

****

“I’m Al. We met once in Iowa—good to see you again.” The two men shook hands, and Dennis offered Jeffy’s hand, too. Al liked the way Dennis met his eyes, and his protective arm around Cora.

“Say hello to Mr. Jensen, Jeffy.” The little fellow launched his sturdy torso straight into Al’s arms.

“We’re getting to know each other right off the bat.” Al gave Jeffy a squeeze.

Dennis bent for the suitcases. “What’d you pack in these, Iowa soil and rocks?”

“From the looks of things, California soil is fertile enough already. We probably did bring too much for just a few weeks.”

Dennis hoisted the suitcases, biceps bulging under his plaid cotton shirt. He swung close enough to reveal determined dark eyes and afternoon growth along his jawline. Al read stark concern there.

“We hope you’ll stay a lot longer than that.”

****

The tears simply wouldn’t stop. The sight of Cora’s swollen face sent a disturbing warning to Dottie’s core. Even her daughter’s slim nose was unrecognizable. At the same time, she wept for joy at the sight of little Joy and Jeffy Owen.

She hugged Cora and leaned into Jeffy’s wiggly body, safe in Al’s arms. “Ooh, it’s so good to see you. And Joy—how beautiful!”

“Joy Marie, Mom…after you. Go ahead—take her out if you want to.”

“I’ve never wanted anything more.” It had been so long since she’d held a grandchild this young—eight months old. Al stepped closer, so Jeffy could touch Dottie’s shoulder.

“Gamma?” Saucer-sized blue eyes embraced her.

“Yes, sweetheart.” She took a deep breath. All her anxieties shrank into nothing. No price was too great for this surge of satisfaction, completely surrounded by family.

“Have you eaten?”

“We did—we’re fine. Kind of worn out, but the grandkids will energize us. Right, Dot?” Al held out his handkerchief. She couldn’t answer but hoped he recognized her gratitude. “But if you folks planned to eat, that’s all right with us. We’ll take you out.”

Dennis turned to Cora, who clasped his arm tighter. “Let’s go straight home.”

Relief flooded Dottie, busy with Al’s hankie and the baby. She didn’t want to go anywhere but home—Cora’s paleness told her they’d better get there as fast as they could.

Al’s whisper revealed his tenderness. “We’re going to be busy, you and I.”

It was the perfect thing to say. One part of her wanted to curl up in a rocker with this precious baby girl, another wanted to romp in the sunshine with Jeffy, but something even stronger cautioned her. Cora looked completely worn out. Even talking took a toll on her.

Dennis motioned them across the parking lot. “You don’t mind carrying J.O.?”

“Nope. We’re going to be buddies.” By now, Jeffy perched on Al’s shoulders, so Al picked up the smaller bags. Chubby fingers massed his hair into a pile.

“Don’t mess up Mr. Al’s hair, now.” Dennis gave the boy a frown.

“It’s all right. Hold on, Jeffy.” Al kept a hand on a dimpled ankle, Dottie’s smaller bag stacked on her suitcase against his side. He broke into a little jig. “We made it to Californ-i-yay, on the Atchison, Topeka and the Santa Fe.”

“Fay! Fay!” Jeffy’s perfect echo made Dottie chuckle in spite of her worry.

“Cora sings that song so often, he knows most of the words. He’ll grow up sounding like Judy Garland.”

Jeffy bunched his knees into Al’s cheeks, but Al’s grin told her he thoroughly enjoyed his new role. Dottie put Joy back in her carriage and lagged behind with Cora, whose steps lingered on the asphalt. They could still hear the men, but Cora was out of breath. Dennis set down the suitcases for a minute and waited for them.

“How far is it to your place, Cora?”

“About forty-five minutes. I’m so glad Dennis’s boss gave him this half day off—our neighbor was willing to come along, but Jeffy is definitely daddy’s boy.”

“I bet you hate to see him leave for work. You’ve got your hands more than full.” Dottie couldn’t miss the quiver of Cora’s lower lip. “Do you have good neighbors?”

“Not many close ones—you’ll see, Mom. Japanese folks work the fields. They keep to themselves, but when I used to take early morning walks, they were always friendly.”

Kimiko’s parents’ address lay tucked in Dottie’s purse—she’d have to look it up later—they must live in the same kind of area. They caught up with the men at a dark red vehicle. Al ran the side of his hand along the back fender.

“You drive a Chevy? Looks like it’s got a lot of room.”

“Yeah. And it’s steel-built—that’s what I like—the way people drive out here, you’d think monsters chased them. I want my family to be safe.” Dennis opened the tailgate.

“The traffic’s almost doubled in the past year. The Army used this make for war transports—not this one, of course, but you’ll see plenty of green ones around. This is a ’45 model my boss found—got us quite a deal.”

“Hmm…this’d make a great mail car, don’t you think, Dot? All kinds of room for boxes and odd-shaped parcels.” Focused on helping Cora into the front seat, Dottie heard Al lower his voice to Jeffy.

“Gotta get your mommy home so she can rest. Grandma and I will take good care of you and your baby sister. You betcha we will!”