August 9, 1944

KANSAS CITY (THE ONE IN KANSAS)

Dear Glory,

What a day.

We arrived in KC last night, after a long bus ride. We’re staying at a quaint hotel near the impressive county courthouse. I’m sharing a lovely pale yellow room with Roylene and Little Sal, and Mrs. Kleinschmidt, who Roylene asked to be an official witness, is adjoining. The desk clerk gave us the twin rooms as a courtesy. Mrs. K. is speaking to me again, but I don’t think she’s very pleased to have her privacy compromised. She’s dead bolted her side of the door.

Roy is across the hall. Yessiree. He surprised us all by showing up at the bus stop carrying a satchel and wearing a cheap, shiny suit the shade of day-old coffee. I was about to unleash my sharp tongue when I saw Roylene’s face flush pink with pleasure. “Pops? Are you really coming?” she asked, her voice suddenly sounding very young.

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world, dolly,” he answered brightly. But his sharp eyes never left that bracelet dangling like catnip from her slender wrist.

He whistled. “Now that’s a nice bit of rock.”

Roylene’s face took another turn on the color wheel, toward crimson. “It was a gift.”

“Then you’re moving on up in the world, ain’t you?” Roy threw his arm around her, not caring that Little Sal was in her arms, making her stance awkward. I took the baby from her, and Roy shifted his attention to me. “This better be legal.”

Oh, that man’s gall! “It’s—”

“Toby sent the paper back,” Roylene interrupted. “It’s legal, Pop. Don’t make this bad. Please...not this.”

His hand twitched. If we weren’t standing in a public place, it would have found its mark. “Well, then, we better hop to it,” he said. His mouth moved into a false smile easily, like it was a well-greased piece of machinery.

The bus ride was uneventful. Roy behaved himself for the most part, but then, we didn’t pay him all that much attention.

We got up really early to set Roylene’s hair in a back wave. Poor Little Sal fussed—he wanted in on the festivities. His mischievous hands pulled Roylene’s hem so many times Mrs. K. had to stitch it up. I could have easily done it, but the woman swatted me away anytime I got near her creation. I’m not complaining—it was a vision. A two-piece, draped dress in raw silk of the deepest rose, with a chocolate-brown ribbon accentuating Roylene’s tiny waist.

The dress is something new. Your bracelet took care of the old and blue, but we were stumped for something borrowed. Roylene had everything she needed, and loaning her a handkerchief or a penny for luck seemed rather uninspired. She looked a bit worried (all brides are superstitious, are they not?) but I told her it would make no difference once we got to the courthouse.

Mrs. K. and I got dressed (plain day suits to keep the attention where it belongs!) and we wrapped the baby in his christening gown at Roylene’s insistence. A sharp rap on Roy’s door and we were off.

The lawyer who met us in the judge’s chambers was older than I expected but dashing, his dark hair graying at the sides, bringing one’s attention directly to his soft, cornflower-blue eyes. He introduced himself as Bill and greeted us warmly, then addressed Roylene. “I’m just a stand-in for your groom, but your man loves you and wants this day to be special even though he can’t be here in the flesh. A proxy wedding means the same as the real thing in the eyes of the law. When we walk out of the courthouse doors, you’ll be married to him body and soul. Are you prepared for that level of commitment?”

Roylene swallowed. “Yes, sir.”

The man nodded and called over to an adorably petite, red-haired woman standing in the corner with a bouquet of magenta dahlias. “Mary Ann?”

The woman handed the flowers to Roylene, who added them to the sunflowers I brought from home. “You’re the twenty-fifth girl my husband’s married.” Mary Ann giggled. “Best of luck to you.”

The ceremony began. When the judge mentioned the ring, Roylene went white and my stomach flipped. We’d forgotten.

“We need something to keep going.” The judge sighed. He was balding and his eyes looked tired.

“Oh, dear,” Mary Ann said, fanning herself. “This has never happened before.”

A heavy silence fell over the room. I could see the sweat gathering on Roylene’s upper lip.

“Borrow the goddamn handcuffs from the bailiff if you have to,” Roy muttered.

Something borrowed. I twisted the gold band off my finger and passed it to the lawyer. The judge started up again, and when they got to the “I do” part, Roylene caught my gaze. We held each other that way for a long moment. Because, when it comes down to it, she is also marrying me, and I her.

My desire to do so surprised me, Glory. I had to turn away and choke down the emotion clawing at my throat. I held my grandson so tightly he squirmed.

Lawyer Bill gave Roylene a fatherly kiss on the forehead, and then it was over. My son was a married man.

Afterward, we went to lunch with Bill and Mary Ann, and we all signed a card to send to Toby. Even Roy scribbled his congratulations. We rubbed Little Sal’s hands with sliced beets and pressed them onto the V-mail. I don’t know if it’ll go through, but the sweet gesture made even Mrs. K. smile from ear to ear.

We’re heading back to Iowa City first thing in the morning. Roylene just wondered aloud if she’ll feel like a different person tomorrow.

I feel like a different person today.

Love,

Rita

P.S. Even with all the commotion, I’ve been thinking about you all the time. Write soon, hon. I can’t wait patiently for news of your homecoming. I just can’t.