May 1942

Annie was pouring coffee for Jonathon while Helen spooned jello with canned pineapple into bowls for him and Billy.

"Is everything set for dinner with the Moores tomorrow?" Jonathon asked Annie.

"Yes, I'm making a standing rib roast. There was a problem with the dessert though."

"Oh?" Jonathon said, raising an eyebrow.

"When I went to the grocer's, all the sugar had been taken off the shelves. There wasn't a bit of it left."

"Why would they do that?" Billy asked.

"Mr. Paulson told me sugar is going to be rationed now. He was told to remove all of it."

"Did you tell him who you were buying it for?" Jonathon demanded. "Surely he could sell it to us!"

"I tried! But he said he'd get in trouble if all his stock wasn't accounted for."

Jonathon let out an exasperated sigh. "Well, that's just perfect!"

"Don't worry about dessert," Annie said quickly. "I had a can of cherry pie filling in the pantry so we'll have pie instead of cake."

"I suppose that will have to do," Jonathon muttered.

"I had the jello and pineapple I used for tonight in the pantry too, but... I don't know if I'll be able to make desserts from now on."

"Yes, I understand," he said, dismissing Annie with a wave of his hand.

"Tires, gas, and now sugar," Billy said, contemplating his bowl of jello sadly. "I wonder what'll be rationed next."

"It'll be hard to do without," Helen said. "But the soldiers need it more than we do."

"Billy makes a good point," Jonathon said. "Have Annie stock up on non-perishables when she goes to the grocer's from now on."

Helen took in a breath, then closed her mouth while she picked up her spoon. "Alright," she said quietly.

"When the Moores are here tomorrow," Jonathon said to Billy. "I'd like you to be careful what you say around them. Obviously, they don't know – and we need to keep it that way."

"I won't say anything," Billy said. "But I need to talk about Kitty, with both of you."

"What about her?" Jonathon said, surprised he'd brought her up.

Billy leaned back in his seat and fidgeted with his spoon. "I haven't told her about why you got married, but – she's asked me questions, and I feel guilty about keeping things from her. I'm going to marry her.  She's practically a member of the family already, and I'd rather she know the truth now than find out later I lied to her. She won't ever tell anyone. I promise she won't," he said earnestly.

Jonathon looked at Helen, not knowing what to say. Billy was waiting for him to make the decision, but was that really his right?

"Of course, you should tell her," Helen said, leaning forward. "I'm sorry, Billy. I didn't think about what kind of position I was putting you in."

"Thanks, Helen," Billy said, his face lightening. "I better go upstairs. I've got a book report to write."

After he was gone, Jonathon noticed Helen wasn't eating. "Are you really alright with Kitty knowing the truth?"

"Yes. Billy's right. She's going to be a part of the family, and if he trusts her, we should too."

"I know, but he could've waited to tell her," he muttered.

"We can't make him lie for us. It's not fair to either of them, and I don't think we'd be able to hide it from her for very long anyway."

"I guess you're right."

"What we've done..." Helen sighed while she shook her head. "The secret isn't going to go away, Johnny. We're going to have to learn how to deal with situations like this."

"Like with your aunt and uncle tomorrow," Jonathon observed grimly.

"Yes, like tomorrow."

"Do you feel ready to face them?"

She shrugged. "As ready as I'm going to be."

"Do mind telling me what you wrote them?" he asked. "I don't want to pry, but we should make sure our stories are the same."

She dropped her head and studied her jello. "I told them you told me you loved me and didn't want to lose me, and... I realized that I still loved you from when we were in high school, and I didn't want to lose you either." She was still examining her dessert, but her face reddened. "I thought it was a good idea to keep it as close to the truth as possible."

"That's – a good idea," he said, but his mind was suddenly filled with questions. How much of that was the truth? He kept watching her, hoping she'd say more, but she remained silent. "Did you – I mean, were you... in love with me – back then," he stammered.

She didn't lift her head, but her face flushed even more. "Yes, I was falling in love with you back then," she said quietly to her bowl. "If things had turned out differently, I probably would have married you."

Joy swelled up inside him. She had been falling in love with him. All those times he'd spent with her, he'd sensed her growing closer to him, and he'd been right. But what were her feelings for him now?

They'd been married for two weeks, and during that time he'd already seen positive changes in her. The color had come back to her cheeks, and the dark circles under her eyes had disappeared, but even better, she seemed happy when she was with him. Was that because she was falling in love with him again? As the seconds ticked by, the question burned inside him. He was desperate to know the truth.

"Do you – do you have those feelings for me now?" he asked tentatively.

From the change in her expression, he immediately regretted saying it. "I – care a lot, but–"

His stomach began twisting. He didn't want to hear what she was about to say.

"When I think of Walt, I feel so guilty, like I'm hurting him."

"It's alright. I shouldn't have asked," he said quickly, wanting to cut her off before she said more.

"I'm sorry, Johnny. I don't want to hurt you either."

"You haven't hurt me," he said forcefully. "I'm just concerned – about your aunt and uncle. We have to make them believe – that we – you know."

"I know, Johnny," she said sadly.  From the way she was looking at him, he knew she could see through his lie. She set her napkin on the table. "I should tell Annie we're finished with dinner."

He nodded, not wanting to take a chance his voice would betray his emotions. After she disappeared behind the swinging door, he slumped in his seat.

Why had he been so stupid to bring that up? He'd always intended to wait for Helen to let him know what she was feeling, but instead he'd forced her hand.  Guilty. The word had cut through him like a knife, and now he knew the truth.  She felt like she was cheating on Walt when she was with him.

Annie and Helen returned to the dining room, and he stood.

"Do you want to go to the pond?" Helen asked.

She was studying him with a worried expression, and he gave her his best smile. "That sounds nice." But as they headed for the front door, Jonathon felt a heavy sadness pressing on him.

No matter how much fun he was having with her, or how happy she seemed with him, he was still competing with Walt Dwyer.

~~

Billy was at the Victrola, sorting through records while Helen and Jonathon sat on one of the couches in the grand parlor, waiting for the Moore's car to arrive. Helen got up to look out the window, then returned to sit beside him. It was the third time she'd done it.

"Nervous?" he asked.

"A little," she said with a smile, but he suspected she was underplaying it. "How about you?"

"I guess I'm a little nervous too, but I think we'll be okay," he said, wanting to reassure her.

"I hope you're right."

"I hear a car," Billy said, going to the window, then he turned to them. "They're here."

Helen stood, but Jonathon took her hand. "We'll let Annie answer the door," he said, gently guiding her back to the couch.   Her body was tense, and he patted her hand.  "Don't worry. I won't let anything happen."

She nodded, but she still looked worried.

The front door opened and Jonathon heard Mrs. Moore's voice. "Annie!" she said, sounding surprised to see her.

"Hello, Mrs. Moore, Mr. Moore. Can I take your things?"

"Now we can go," Jonathon said quietly.

"This is a gift for the couple," Mrs. Moore said as they reached the hallway.

"Hello, Aunt Irene," Helen said, leaning in to kiss her cheek.

"This is for you," she said, giving Helen a wrapped square box with a large bow on it.

Mr. Moore stuck his hand out to Jonathon. "I hear congratulations are in order!" he said, shaking Jonathon's had vigorously.

"Thank you, Mr. Moore."

"Call me Charles, young man! We're family now!"

"And you must call me Irene," Helen's aunt said, offering her hand.

After the Moores had greeted Billy, Jonathon said, "Helen, I'm sure your aunt and uncle would appreciate a tour."

"Yes, I can show you around, if you'd like," Helen said.

"You know I would! I'm dying to see your home," her aunt said, her eyes glowing with excitement.

"Well, I guess we can start here," Helen said, gesturing to the living room. "This is one of the parlors."

"We call it the living room," Billy said, and Jonathon grit his teeth. Why had he corrected her? Was he trying to make it obvious Helen wasn't living in the house? Luckily, her aunt and uncle were too busy looking around to notice.

"Through these doors is the library," Helen said, sliding the pocket doors open.

"Well, this is impressive," her aunt said, admiring the shelves of books.

Helen led them back to the hallway. "Down that way is the dining room, but I think Annie is still setting up."

"Let's go to the grand parlor," Jonathon said, not wanting to put Helen in the position of making another mistake. "Can I make you a drink while we wait, Charles?"

"I'll have a whiskey, neat, if it's not too much trouble."

"Not at all. Can I get you something, Irene?"

She batted her eyelashes at him.  "Sherry, if you have it."

"I do," he said, going to the bar cabinet.

"Well, you certainly saved the best for last!" she said, turning to Helen. "What a lovely home you have!"

"Thank you, Aunt Irene, but I can't take credit for it. I expect Jonathon's mother did all the decorating."

"If she did, it was a long time ago," Jonathon said, handing the Moores their drinks. "The house has looked like this my whole life."

"That's not true," Billy said loudly. "Don't you remember when Mother bought the Victrola? And Father got the bar cabinet around the same time, it was during Prohibition."

Jonathon glared at his brother, who had the decency to look chastened while Mr. Moore let out a hearty laugh. "I expect quite a few households did the same, my boy. You had to keep your liquor out of sight somehow!"

"What can I get you, darling," Jonathon said to Helen, hoping to change the subject, but she hadn't noticed he'd spoken to her. "Helen?" he prodded.

"Oh," she said, looking up with startled eyes. "I – I didn't–" She stopped short.

"Would you like a drink?"

"I, yes, a sherry," she stammered, and he went back to the cabinet, mentally kicking himself. He shouldn't have used the endearment.

"You should open your present now," Helen's aunt said behind him.

He heard the tearing of paper, and then Helen said, "It's beautiful, Aunt Irene. Thank you."

"It's the best punch bowl they had at the store. Real crystal!" Jonathon brought Helen her glass while Mrs. Moore continued. "Everyone knows it's a woman that makes a house a home, and now that you're the new woman of the house, you should make some changes, put your own personal touch on it."

"I – I don't know if I'm allowed," Helen said, looking at Jonathon uncertainly while he sat next to her.

"Of course, you're allowed," he said with a smile, but he was cringing on the inside. He wished she didn't sound so unsure of herself. "We haven't had a chance to talk about it yet," he explained to her aunt and uncle.

"There!" Mrs. Moore said triumphantly. "Your husband doesn't mind at all! If you need help, you know you can call me. I love decorating!"

Before Helen could respond, Jonathon said, "Did you hear they're rationing sugar now?" With Mrs. Moore's apparent obsession for floral fabrics and fake flowers, he didn't want her to have any influence over how his home was decorated.

Mr. Moore launched into a long rant about the government, and while he half-listened, Jonathon glanced at Helen. The light he'd been used to seeing in her eyes over the last few weeks was gone.  He took her hand, and when she looked at him, he gave her a nod and a smile. That seemed to help because her body relaxed.

They managed to make it through the next hours without any more awkward moments, and as they were finishing their dinner, Jonathon was enjoying himself.  Their get-together was going to be a success.

After they'd finished the cherry pie, Mr. Moore cleared his throat, and picked up his after-dinner brandy while he stood. "As Helen's uncle, I feel it's my duty to give the young couple a toast, so I hope you'll all indulge me." He chuckled as he raised his glass. "Congratulations and many happy returns to Jonathon and Helen! I expect great things will come from the merger of the Blackwell and Moore families!"

That would be the Anderson family, Jonathon thought angrily, but raised his brandy to take a sip instead while Billy and Mrs. Moore repeated his sentiments.

"I have to say, I'm glad you finally came to your senses, Helen," Mrs. Moore said smugly, setting her glass back on the table. "I told her she should forget about that Dwyer boy," she continued, turning to Jonathon. "I mean, honestly, what kind of life could he give her?"

There was a shocked silence while behind her, Helen looked like she was in pain.

"A pharmacist is a noble profession, I suppose, but living over a drug store?" She clicked her tongue. "I don't want to disparage the poor boy now that he's dead, but that's no kind of life for a girl like Helen."

"I wouldn't say that, my dear," Mr. Moore said, eyeing Jonathon with a nervous laugh.

"It's the truth! No one can deny it."

"He wasn't going to be a pharmacist," Helen said tightly. "He was getting medical training in the army. He was going to try to become a doctor."

"Oh, was he?" she said mildly to Helen. "That's nice." She turned her attention back to Jonathon with a coy smile. "I could tell she'd caught your eye. As soon as I saw you were interested, I told her she needed to think hard about her future and make the smart choice and – she has!" She leaned back with a satisfied expression.

"I–" Helen said loudly, and everyone looked at her. "I should tell Annie we're finished here," she muttered, and got up from the table with her face flushing.

"Is that the time? I believe it's time for us to say our farewells," Mr. Moore said, making a show of pulling out his pocket watch.

"So soon?" Mrs. Moore said, clearly disappointed.

"I'm afraid it's getting late for us too," Jonathon said through his teeth, standing from his chair. "I'll go tell Helen."

In the kitchen, he found Helen and Annie huddled together by the sink. "Helen, they're leaving," he said, and she turned around. He was grateful she wasn't crying, but she looked like she was close to it. "Will you help see them off?"

She sighed deeply while her shoulders drooped. "Alright," she said resignedly.

"This is the last time," he said quietly when she reached him, wanting to make her feel better. "You won't have to deal with them again after this."

"I know," she muttered, and pushed through the swinging door.

The good-bye's were brief, and within minutes, the Moores were on their way. When he shut the front door behind them, Jonathon turned to Helen with concern. "Are you alright?" he asked.

She nodded, but her eyes were red and her face was pale. She was on the verge of tears.

"Uh, I've got stuff I gotta do," Billy said, and quickly retreated up the stairs.

"Will you come in the parlor with me?" Jonathon said.

"I'm really tired, Johnny," she said, and then swallowed while she blinked back tears. "If it's okay with you, I'm going to go."

"Are you sure?"

She quickly wiped her eyes, and nodded.

"Alright, but if you decide you want to talk, I'll be up." He opened the front door for her.

"I'll see you tomorrow," she mumbled, and headed down the porch stairs.

He watched her back until she disappeared behind the garage, and then closed the door. In the grand parlor, he collapsed in a chair and put his head in his hands.

As badly as the dinner had gone, as horrible as Mrs. Moore had been, that wasn't the worst part of the evening. It was seeing how Helen had reacted. The last two days had shown Jonathon just how strong Helen's feelings were for Walt.

Was there any hope for him at all, he wondered with despair. 

https://youtu.be/B8w62arSTIg

****

While Jonathon and Helen have managed to keep their secret from her aunt and uncle, it's still been a pretty rotten evening for both of them.    Were you surprised to learn that Helen's aunt had tried to meddle in her relationships?  Do you think Jonathon's expecting too much of Helen this few weeks into their 'marriage'?  What do think about Helen's confession of what she's feeling about Walt? 

A few of you have mentioned you don't like Helen, and I wonder if that's because of how much you've come to care for Jonathon.  I'll admit she's been fairly suspicious of him at times, as well as confrontational.  The 1930's and 40's were hard times for women.  Men had all the power in relationships, and from the very beginning Helen has been concerned about putting herself in a position where someone like Jonathon would take advantage of her.  Maybe I need to show more of what's going on inside her head to make it clear what she's thinking in those moments.

Thank you so much for reading and sharing your thoughts with me!  I really appreciate it!

Cheers!

Katherine