37

Hildemara married Trip on December 21, 1941. Bernie and Elizabeth came up with Mama. Melvin drove Rikka. They left shortly after the ceremony to take the ferry to San Francisco. Cloe sent her regrets. She had a job with a production company working on another swashbuckler. Tyrone Power, this time. “We’re sewing night and day to get the costumes ready for the shoot. . . .” Bad weather and lack of money kept Trip’s parents in Colorado.

Many of Hildie and Trip’s local church friends attended and gave gifts. The deaconesses put on a wedding reception in the social hall. Everyone talked about the war, and some of the men in the congregation had already signed up for military service. Mama gave the newlyweds a crocheted tablecloth with fifty dollars tucked into the folds. They used it to buy train tickets to Denver.

Trip’s mother and father made Hildemara feel more like a long-lost daughter than an in-law. When asked what she wanted to call them, she rejected Otis and Marg and opted for what Trip called them—Dad and Mom.

“Look out!” Trip laughed. “Dad’s looking for ways to entertain you.”

When he hooked a sleigh to the back of his car, Hildie climbed aboard and sailed down East Moreno to Prospect Lake. In a few short weeks, she learned the rudiments of ice-skating and cross-country skiing.

They had little time alone in the small one-bedroom house. Trip’s bedroom was much like Hildie’s had been, a converted back porch. At least he had snow shutters instead of screen windows. They had no trouble keeping warm.

“We’re going to have to go back to California soon, so you can start medical school.”

Hildie combed her fingers through Trip’s thick brown hair. His parents had gone off to visit friends, leaving them alone for the day. They had spent all morning in bed, not having to worry about making a sound.

Trip took her hand and kissed it. “I joined up, Hildie.”

Her heart froze. “What did you say?”

“I went to the recruiter’s office on Monday and signed the papers.”

She yanked her hand free and sat up. “Oh, Trip. Tell me you didn’t! We’ve only been married three weeks!” Everything had worked together to keep them apart for so long: Papa’s illness, then hers, and now he signed up to go off and fight a war? How could he?

“It’s cold.” Trip pulled her down again, swinging his leg across hers to hold her there. “Every able-bodied man is joining up. How can I not do my part?”

“So you join up without even saying a word about it? I’m your wife!”

“Hildie . . .”

“Let me up!”

He did. She pulled her robe on and went into the house, standing near the potbelly stove. She’d have to crawl inside to thaw the chill inside her. Trip came in, closing the door behind him. He stood behind her, running his hands up and down her arms. “I should have told you. I’m sorry I didn’t. I was afraid I’d let you talk me out of it.”

She shook his hands off and faced him, tears streaming down her cheeks. “Is this the way our marriage is going to be? You make life-changing decisions and tell me later?” Something else struck her. “Your parents knew, didn’t they? That’s why they left us alone today.” She closed her eyes. “That’s why Mom went to bed early last night and Dad looked so grim.”

“Our country needs soldiers. The recruiter thinks I’ll end up a medic with my premed background and the time I spent working in a hospital. I can be of service.”

He clutched her face, his own agonized. “I can’t stay here safe and happy, making love to you every chance I get, while others risk their lives for our freedom. This is a fight for America’s survival, Hildie, not a little skirmish in a foreign country somewhere we’ve never heard of.”

She felt her body shaking in reaction. She had read the newspapers, too. If the Japanese invaded California and Germany overran Europe, the whole world would be at war. “You’re right. I’ll enlist, too. Jones said a year ago the Army would need nurses.”

He let go of her, his face flaming. “Over my dead body! You’re not enlisting in the Army!”

She laughed in disbelief. “It’s all right for you, but not for me. I have more training than you do, Trip. Don’t expect me to sit home and wait when my husband could be among the wounded!”

“I want you safe from harm!”

“And I wanted the same for you, but you did as you pleased. And now I agree. Our country needs us.”

“No . . .” He put his head in his hands and turned away.

Hildie put her hand on his back. “If it means our freedom, shouldn’t we all be part of it?”

He turned to her, face pale. “Don’t do anything yet. Promise me. We’ll pray about it.”

“Did you?”

“Yes!” He cupped her face. “I’ve been praying since December 7 about what to do.”

“And never included me.”

Trip winced. “I won’t do it again. Listen to me, please. One of us joining right now is enough. Give it a little time and we’ll pray and see what God wants for you.”

Everything moved faster than either expected.

Trip received his orders, and Hildie followed him to Camp Barkeley, Texas, and then to Fort Riley, Kansas, and then on to Fort Lewis, Washington. She lived in boardinghouses while he lived in the barracks. When he had a day’s leave, they stayed in her room, hungry for one another. Tens of thousands of Navy men and Marines headed for the South Pacific to fight the Japanese while the Army geared up to invade Europe. Trip received orders for Officer Candidate School.

“You can’t come this time, Hildie. I won’t be able to see you, and I don’t want you living among strangers. I want you to go home.”

Which home? Where? She didn’t know whether to go back to work at Merritt, where she would be surrounded by friends, or to Colorado Springs and live with Mom and Dad, or home to Murietta and Mama, if Mama would allow. No place would feel like home without Trip. She would stay in Tacoma until she could figure out what to do.

Trip dressed in his uniform while she sat on the end of the bed in the dressing gown Cloe had made. He leaned down and kissed her. “Maybe God will answer my prayers by then.” He brushed his fingers against her cheek and went out the door.

She didn’t have to ask what he meant, though he had never spoken his prayer aloud. He wanted her pregnant. He didn’t just want a child; he wanted her ineligible to join the military.

She flung a hand over her eyes and prayed God’s protection on her husband. If the slight morning nausea the last few days was any indication, God might have already answered Trip’s prayer. They might have something to celebrate rather than spending every moment worrying about what the future could hold. The future could hold a child! Then again, she might just be feeling sick at the thought of what could happen to Trip.

Hildemara waited another month before making an appointment. The doctor confirmed she was pregnant. Proud to be carrying Trip’s child, she sat with her hand resting on her abdomen during the long bus ride back to the apartment.

She would go home to Murietta. She didn’t want to add to Trip’s worries, and her husband wouldn’t want her living alone with a baby on the way. God has settled it, Trip. You’re going to be a daddy. I’m going home to Mama. . . . Mama’s first grandchild! Perhaps Mama would even be happy enough to crow about it.

Rikka had gone home to see Melvin before he headed off to Marine Corps boot camp and then gone back to San Francisco. She had quit full-time classes at the California School of Fine Arts, preferring to pick and choose what she studied. She had found a job as a waitress in a fancy restaurant and loved everything about living in San Francisco. She claimed she loved Melvin, but she had no intention of becoming a farmer’s wife in Murietta. It remained to be seen whether romance or a lust for life would win out. With Rikka’s eyes fixed on city life, Hildemara assumed there would be plenty of room for her and a new baby.

Only a fool assumes.