June 1946

James climbed in the car after unlocking the gate, and Jonathon leaned forward in the back seat. "Park the car by the front of the house."

"Aye, sir."

Jonathon grinned as they drove down the winding drive, the nearly overhead sun blocked by the trees that enveloped them. He couldn't wait to see Helen's reaction when he saw her.

Inside the house, he noticed the silence as he removed his fedora and put it on the table with the telephone. Douglas must not be playing nearby or he surely would have heard the door.

"Oh. Hello, Mr. Blackwell," Annie said, stepping out of the library with a dusting rag in her hand. "I didn't realize you'd be home early today."

"Where's Helen?"

"She took Douglas to the pond to play.  Did you need something?" she asked, stopping him before he could turn to the door.

"No, I..." He smiled as an idea came to him. "I'm going to take them into town for lunch."

"What a treat," Annie said, returning his smile. "They'll like that."

"I think they will," he said, and headed outside.

Walking behind the garage, he was glad he was able to leave work on the spur of the moment. Now that he had Norm Kennedy to rely on, he'd taken the occasional day off during the week, and had even stopped working on the weekends.  But leaving on a moment's notice without having to worry about what was happening at the business was a relief.

Norm was a good man; steady, reliable, and smart as a whip. Many times when he'd discovered a problem, by the time Jonathon had arrived on the scene, he'd already come up with a solution. In many ways, Norm had stepped into the role Jonathon had always imagined Billy would have, as his right-hand man. But then, Billy had been the one to suggest him.

Before he'd gone to New York six months ago, Billy had left a letter for Jonathon to find on his desk, but Jonathon had been so angry, he'd torn it in pieces without reading it and thrown it in his waste basket.

One month later, another letter appeared on his desk.

~\~

"Mrs. Gibson!" Jonathon shouted when he recognized Billy's handwriting.

"Yes, Mr. Blackwell?" she said, appearing in the doorway.

"Where did this come from?" he demanded, holding up the letter.

She took a deep breath, as if she was steeling herself. "Your brother gave it to me before he went away. He said if you hadn't read the one he left, to wait a month before giving this one to you."

Jonathon dropped the letter while he slumped. Of course Billy would think to do that. He'd always been stubborn in his own way.

He was about to dismiss Mrs. Gibson, when he noticed the worried look in her eyes. There was something she wasn't telling him. "How many more of these do you have?" he asked.

Mrs. Gibson slumped. He'd guessed correctly.

"There are three more."

"So I can expect one of these to appear every month for the next three months?"

"No, sir. He asked me to wait two months before giving you the next one."

Jonathon leaned back in his chair with a sigh. That was his brother in a nutshell.  Thinking that if he drew out the timing of the letters, Jonathon would be more likely to read one of them.

"Very well, thank you, Mrs. Gibson."

Her eyes went round, and then she retreated from his office. Jonathon knew she was surprised he hadn't demanded the letters be turned over so he could destroy them. He considered it, but something had stopped him.

He was still angry with Billy for abandoning him, but his emotions had receded over the last month to a dull ache.  Exactly what Billy was counting on, he mused grimly. His brother knew him too well.

Looking at his name written in Billy's handwriting on the envelope, he tried to decide what to do. He still didn't want to read it, but if he could make Mrs. Gibson think he had, that would be the end of it. No more letters.

He'd take it home and get rid of it instead of leaving it in the trash. But she was too smart for that.  She'd assume he'd destroyed it away from the office. No, he thought, picking up the letter again. She'd have to see the evidence he'd read it with her own eyes, an open letter lying on his desk.

He used his letter opener to slice the flap and pulled out the folded paper. As he smoothed open the cream Blackwell Iron and Mining stationary, his eyes caught the words, 'Dear Johnny,' and he couldn't help continuing.

.

.

I know you're probably still sore at me, so thanks for reading this.

The last thing I wanted was to leave you to run the mine alone, but I knew if I stayed, I'd be hurting you the same as if I left. You didn't deserve to have me to worry about on top of the business.  I couldn't stand being a burden to you.

Even though my decision to enlist in the army caused you a lot of grief – and caused me a lot of grief too – I would do it again. If I hadn't gone and done my part to end the war, I wouldn't have been able to live with myself. And none of the men at the mine would have respected me, especially the vets.

I believe it was as necessary for me to enlist as it was for you to stay at home and make sure America had as much steel as she could get.  Even after everything that's happened, I'm proud of what I did. I hope one day you'll be able to be proud of me too.

But moving on from what's happened in the past, the reason I've written this letter is to give you a list of fellows I think would be the most help to you. I'm sure none of the names will be a surprise, but I know for a fact these are your most loyal men. Give them a chance, Johnny.

Jonathon scanned the list of names, noticing Billy had chosen at least one person from every area of the operation. Another example of how thorough his little brother was.

If only things had turned out differently, he thought, setting down the letter so he could rub his temples. Without the burden of his memories of the war, Billy would have been able deal with working at a job he didn't enjoy. Jonathon was certain of it, and he rejected Billy's assertion that the men wouldn't have respected him if he hadn't served. Two brothers working for the war effort was no different than one brother doing it alone, especially when it had been almost more than he could handle.

But there was one part of the letter he couldn't disagree with. Billy would have been wracked with guilt if he hadn't enlisted. Maybe it was the time that had passed, but Jonathon could no longer deny his brother had made the decision that was best for him.

~\~

Jonathon came out of the woods and shielded his eyes as he looked across the long grass field. Continuing down the path, he scanned the area near the pond for Helen and Douglas, but saw no sign of them. It wasn't until he was nearly at the water that he spotted them under the willow tree.

Helen was sitting with her back against the trunk, reading out loud from a children's book while Douglas lay on a blanket next to her.

"Daddy!" he said, jumping up when he saw Jonathon.

"Hello, Douglas," Jonathon said as Douglas ran to him.

Jonathon thought he was going to jump in his arms, but instead Douglas took his hand. "Come, daddy.  See the house I made for the frogs."   He pulled Jonathon towards the large fallen log.

"You made a house for frogs?" Jonathon asked, smiling with amusement at Helen who was following behind them.

"I made a big house for them, see?"

He crouched down, and Jonathon crouched beside him to get a better look. What could have been mistaken for a pile of twigs had been neatly arranged into a small mound.

"There's a door where they can go in here," Douglas explained, pointing at an opening. "And inside, I made them a bed, but you can't see it because you're too big. I can see it because I'm little." He leaned low and peeked through the opening to demonstrate. "I made it soft for them with lots of grass."

"I guess the frogs are going to sleep good tonight," Jonathon said with a laugh. He straightened and pulled Helen close so he could kiss her.

"He's been working on that all morning," she said, her eyes twinkling. "He had a dream about frogs in a house, and decided that's what he had to do. You're home early. Did you tell me you were coming home today and I forgot?"

"Not at all. I came home because I have a surprise to show you – to show both of you." He scooped up Douglas. "Do you want to see the surprise daddy brought for you?"

"Yes!"

"Let me get our things," Helen said, returning to the willow tree.

When she emerged with a large basket on her arm, Jonathon set Douglas down so he could carry it for her. As they headed back to the woods, she put her hand in the crook of his arm. "The weather is so nice today," she said. "Having you home to enjoy it is a surprise all by itself." She leaned closer and looked up at him, batting her eyelashes playfully. "I can't imagine what other surprise is waiting for us."

He chuckled. "Do you think you can get it out of me that easily?"

She widened her eyes with mock surprise. "Johnny Blackwell! I wouldn't even attempt it. You're much too smart to fall for my feminine charms."

"I don't know," he said in a lower voice as he looped his arm around her waist. "Your feminine charms are fairly powerful. If you were a secret agent, you'd convince me to tell every one of my secrets in minutes. I probably would have lost the war for us." He nuzzled into her neck with a growl.

"Stop it, Johnny!" she said, pulling away while laughing, and rubbed the spot where he'd nuzzled her. "You're tickling me. And besides, Douglas might see."

Douglas was walking ahead of them, too busy dragging a large branch he'd pulled out of the brush to notice.

"I think it's good for a son to see how much his father loves his mother," Jonathon said.

"You're making me blush!" she said, covering her cheeks, but he knew she liked it when he said things like that. By now they were passing the cabin, and he leaned closer to her ear. "Why don't you ask Annie to sleep upstairs tonight so we can stay here? It should be a perfect night."

She blushed more heavily, but she couldn't hide her smile. "Alright."

At the end of the path behind the garage, Jonathon pulled back the branches so Helen and Douglas could step out first. Douglas skipped ahead of them to the gravel drive, then stopped. "Who's here, daddy?" he asked, turning back to Jonathon.

"No one's here."

"A Cadillac?" Helen said loudly when she saw the car. She turned to him with her face glowing. "You bought a Cadillac?"

"I ordered it almost a year ago, but I had a heck of a time getting one. I only got the call this morning it had been delivered."

"I can't believe it. Bing Crosby got one just like it! I saw the picture in a magazine."

"How do you like our new car, Douglas?" Jonathon asked, his chest filling with pride.

"That's our car?" he said, still not understanding.

"Brand new from Detroit! Take a look inside."

He opened the front passenger door for them and Douglas peered inside.

"What do you think?"

"It's swell!" Douglas said.

"It's beautiful," Helen said. "So modern looking!"

"Can we drive it, daddy?" Douglas asked, and Jonathon laughed.

"Of course we can drive it! How'd you like to go for a ride right now?"

"Yeah!"

"I told Annie we'd go to town for lunch," Jonathon said to Helen, and her face brightened even more.

"That sounds wonderful."

James emerged from inside the garage. "Are ya ready ta go, sir?"

Just as Jonathon opened his mouth to answer, he changed his mind. "I'll drive it this time. I want to see how it handles. You can take this to the kitchen for me," he said, handing over the basket.

"I'm sorry, sir, but the tank needs filling. I dunno why, but the dealer didn't leave much, and since we drove it straight home–"

"I'll take care of it," Jonathon said, cutting him off.  He was anxious to get going.

"Aye, sir," James said, tipping his cap before leaving.

"Who's ready?" Jonathon said, clapping his hands.

"Me!" Douglas said, climbing onto the front seat.

"You better get in," Jonathon said to Helen. "Someone's anxious for a drive."

He closed the door for her and walked around to the driver's side, unable to stop grinning. He knew this was the first car in town made after the war. Everyone was going to be green with envy when they saw it.

When the engine turned over, Helen smiled approvingly. "It's so quiet."

"Wait until I get on the highway. You can't hardly hear it at all."

When he'd ridden in the back seat while James drove him home, Jonathon had appreciated how smooth it was, hardly noticing the bumps in the road at all. But driving it was even better. The engine  ran as smooth silk while it glided over the road.

They approached the filling station outside of town, and he slowed. A man in a wrinkled uniform was sitting in a wooden chair in the shade of the garage and he rose as Jonathon pulled alongside the single pump.

"That's a mighty fine car you got there, mister," the man said, lifting his cap briefly as he admired it.

"Fill it up," Jonathon said.

"Yes, sir. Then he turned in the direction of the building. "Ray!" he barked. "Get out here and wash this man's windows!"

A boy who couldn't be much older than ten came from the darkened interior and rushed to the man as went to the rear of the car.

"Didn't you hear him drive up?" the man snarled quietly, getting Jonathon's attention. In the side mirror, he could see the boy take a dripping rag out of a nearby bucket and squeeze out the water.

"I was sweepin' out the back room like you told me, pa."

The man slapped the back of his son's head. "Next time pay attention."

"Yes, pa," the boy said, and went to the front window, perhaps wanting to put distance between him and his father.

He rubbed the glass vigorously with the wet rag, avoiding eye contact with anyone in the front seat. Up close, Jonathon could see his striped t-shirt was too big on him and had dark smudges on the front. And he was in desperate need of a haircut, his light brown hair falling over his eyes as he scrubbed.

Then he noticed Douglas watched him wash the window with fascination. Helen put her arm around Douglas's shoulders, giving Jonathon a look filled with pity. She knew what had happened at the rear of the car.

The boy continued to the back window while a woman in a faded cotton dress walked to the station. She had a toddler on her hip and another small boy a few years old by the hand. Both boys had the same light hair as the boy who was washing the windows, and from the way she went to the garage and waited in the shade, Jonathon guessed she was the man's wife.

When the boy finished wiping the glass dry he headed in the direction of the woman, and Jonathon dug into his pocket. "Boy," he called out.

"Yes, mister?" he said, going to Jonathon.

"This is for washing the windows," Jonathon said, holding out a dime.

His eyes lit up. "Gee, thanks." He reached for it, but his father's hand snatched the dime before he could take it.

"That was for the boy!" Jonathon said with outrage.

The man smiled at Jonathon. "I know that, mister. I'll give it to him when we get home. He's got holes in his pockets and it would be a shame if he lost it." He put the dime in his shirt pocket, still smiling. "That'll be a dollar seventy-three."

Jonathon ground his teeth while he reached for his wallet. It was obvious the man was lying, but how could he prove it?

He gave him two bills, and while the man counted out change, Jonathon watched the boy go to his mother with his shoulders stooped. She smoothed his hair out of his eyes.

"You and your family have a nice day," the man said cheerily as he handed coins to Jonathon.

Jonathon said nothing as he started the car and drove away, still angry the man had stolen his son's money and then had the nerve to lie about it.

"What do you want for lunch?" Helen asked Douglas, attempting to break the tension in the car.

"Uh," he said slowly, weighing his options. "A hamburger."

"A hamburger, it is."

"And fries!" he added, holding up a finger for emphasis.

She laughed. "Okay, fries too."

"And a choco shake!"

"Well, let's see you eat a hamburger and fries first," she said, ruffling his dark wavy hair with her fingers. "Then we'll talk about the chocolate shake."

"Okay!"

"A hamburger sounds good to me too," she said to Jonathon. "How about you?"

"I could eat a hamburger," Jonathon said. He took her hand and squeezed it gently, a feeling of gratitude pushing away his anger. She always knew how to soothe him when he needed it.

"Then I guess it's the diner for lunch," she said with a smile.

Hours later, Helen was nestled next to him while he drove, one arm draped across the back of the seat. They'd been driving for so long, enjoying their new car, the sun was beginning to set and the air that blew past the windows was noticeably cooler. Douglas was curled up on the bench seat on the other side of Helen, sound asleep with his head on her lap.

"When he starts kindergarten in September, we won't be able do things like this as often, just the three of us," Jonathon said.

"That's true," Helen said, gently running her fingers through Douglas's hair.

"I can't believe he's starting school in a few months. It feels like it was only yesterday he was a baby."

"Our little boy is growing up," Helen said, her attention on Douglas. "But maybe... maybe that's when it was meant to happen, so I'd have more time."

Jonathon looked over at her but her face was still turned down towards their son. "More time for what."

When she lifted her head and met his gaze, her eyes told him everything before she said a word. "I wasn't sure, so I was waiting to tell you, but it's been over two weeks, almost three. I haven't been this late since..."

He hurriedly pulled the car over to the side of the road and pulled the hand brake. "Do you mean – a baby?"

"Yes, Johnny," she said, tears appearing in her eyes.

He pulled her into a tight embrace, his own tears of joy welling up.

****

I totally didn't expect it, but when I finished this chapter, I cried.  This is the last chapter Jonathon and Helen will be together, and that hit me pretty hard when I realized it.  I wanted them to have one last happy time together, one really happy day, and I hope I've delivered it successfully.

You may have noticed some familiar characters make an appearance in this chapter.  I realized it would be a shame to have the story end without Marty making an appearance, and so he has, along with the rest of his family. 

Before you leave the chapter, I hope you'll take a moment to listen to the sweet love song by Nat King Cole.  It perfectly captures Jonathon's relationship with Helen.  The picture is Mona Freeman, aka Helen.  Two chapters to go.

Until I see you again, happy reading.