September 1939

At two-thirty in the afternoon, Jonathon climbed out of the back of the Duesenberg. Once James closed the car door, he followed closely behind as Jonathon walked up to the double doors of First Commercial Bank. Once they were inside, Jonathon took a breath, grateful for the cooler air. Even though it was the second week of September, the heat of the summer had lingered, and that day had been particularly hot.

Instead of getting in line to see a teller, he stood back and waited. Helen was counting out change for a middle aged woman, and as soon as the woman stepped away, she waved him over. He handed her the pouch that held the checks that had come into the office that week while a man at the front of the line looked on with a disgruntled frown.

Jonathon placed his elbow on the counter so he could lean closer to her. "How are you today, Helen," he asked as she took the small bundle of paper out of the pouch.

"I'm good, Johnny." she said, and began checking the stack of checks against the deposit ticket.

He smiled at his name.

After the disaster of Billy's party, he'd gotten the idea of taking the deposits to the bank himself instead of leaving it to an employee. It was the only way he could think of to see Helen. She'd still been mad at him though, and in fact, it was nearly a month before she'd been willing to call him Johnny. Prior to that, she'd been calling him Mr. Blackwell.

"How has your week been," he asked.

"Fine. How about you," she said without looking up from her work.

"Same as usual."

She lifted her head with surprise. "Hasn't it been extra busy at the mine? You were right about war breaking out."

The fact that she'd remembered their long ago conversation at the dance, made him smile with happiness again. Back then, he'd said Germany was going to start a war, and they had. After they invaded Poland, several countries, including England had declared war on Germany.

"It's been busier than usual this summer since it was obvious to everyone it was going to happen. But it's too soon to see an increase in orders for war materiel."

Helen sighed. "I guess when that happens, it'll be good for the men who need jobs, but I'm glad Roosevelt said we'd stay neutral. Here's your receipt," she said, handing him a slip of paper.

"Oh, I forgot," he said, reaching into his jacket for his checkbook. "I need to withdraw some money from my personal account."

He filled the check out slowly, stalling for time. He had to act now or he'd lose his opportunity for another week. "Would you go see a movie with me on Saturday?" he said quietly so the other tellers wouldn't hear.

"Johnny," she said with an exasperated sigh.

"It's just as friends!" he insisted in a low voice. "Nothing more."

She gave him a sad smile. "Didn't we try that already?"

"Please?"

Her shoulders drooped. "Why can't you let this go?"

"It's just a movie, I promise. Unless – you're seeing someone else?"

She dropped her head, and he held his breath. He didn't want to hear it if it was true, but he had to know.

"I'm not seeing anyone," she said, shuffling the checks together and putting them in her drawer.

"You're not seeing Walt Dwyer?" he said even more quietly.

"He's gone," she said without looking up. "He left for college two weeks ago."

He let out a breath. He still had a chance.

"Look, Johnny," she said, her blue eyes finally meeting his. "You should forget about me."

"I'll never forget about you!" he said forcefully. "My feelings for you haven't changed. And after all these months, they're not going to."

"But what about your mother?"

"I know I can convince her. I just need more time!"

She let out a deep sigh as she shook her head. "What if you never convince her? I have to think about my future, Johnny. If I'm dating a boy who can't marry me, then I may never be able to get married. Having a family is important to me. I'm sure you want that too."

"I want it with you."

"Sometimes life doesn't work out the way we want."

"Is there a problem here, Mr. Blackwell?" Mr. Moore said, suddenly appearing at Helen's side and eyeing her with a frown.

"Uh, no. Not at all," Jonathon said, ripping out his check and handing it to Helen. "We were just talking – about the war in Europe."

Mr. Moore clicked his tongue while Helen counted out dollar bills. "That Hitler certainly seems determined to cause trouble."

"Yes, he does. Thank you," Jonathon said, taking his money from Helen.

"We'll see you next week!" Mr. Moore said with a wide smile.

With her uncle standing next to her and unable to see, Helen gave him another sad smile, and his heart clenched. He'd worked all summer to get to the point where he could ask her out again, and not only had he failed miserably, it now seemed more certain than ever that he was never going to get her.

Emotions bubbled up inside him, and he had to get out of there before anyone noticed. "Goodbye," he said, tipping his fedora to Helen, and then turned away.

Walking quickly, he pushed his way out of the bank. Enveloped by the sweltering heat, he headed for the car while the bright sunshine made him blink. He reached the car before James, and got in the back seat without waiting, slamming the door shut.

During the ride back to the mine, he looked at the passing countryside with his heart aching. He knew Helen was right. He should forget about her and move on to another girl. After the party, he'd tried to stop thinking about her, but it was impossible. He'd finally given up and come up with another plan.

If only his mother would change her mind, then everything would be perfect. He'd marry Helen, and the two of them would live a long and happy life together. But he'd been unable to convince her so far, and with Helen refusing to see him without her approval, it seemed all was lost. He sighed deeply. It wasn't fair.

That night, when he took his place at the dinner table with the rest of the family, he was still consumed by his troubles about Helen.

"It's been so hot today, I couldn't bear the thought of a hot dinner," Mother said, fanning herself dramatically with her handkerchief. "I told Ingrid not to bother heating up the ham. We'd have it sliced cold, and to make a jellied salad to go with it. I certainly hope it cools down soon. I'm ready for winter."

"I'm not," Father grunted, handing her back her filled plate. "When winter comes, we can't work the pit."

Mother sighed. "I suppose. The heat is just so uncomfortable."

"Mother," Billy said, after handing his plate to Jonathon. "Kitty's birthday is next week and I was hoping I could do something with her to celebrate."

"What did you have in mind?"

"I wanted to take her out to dinner, and maybe to a show."

"I guess that would be alright."

"I'd need James to drive us."

"Yes, fine, William," she said, seemingly already bored with the conversation as she picked up her fork and knife.

While Jonathon watched her cut into her ham, anger flared up inside him. "You're letting Billy take Kitty on a date?" he said loudly.

"Is that what you children are calling it these days?"

"How come he's allowed to see Kitty," Jonathon demanded more loudly. "She's not rich!"

Father pointed his fork at Jonathon. "Watch your tone with your mother, young man!" he warned.

"But it's not fair! You don't have a problem with him seeing Kitty, but you won't let me see Helen!"

"Hey! Don't drag Kitty into this!" Billy said with outrage.

"Are you still upset about that?" Mother said, leaning back in her chair. "I thought you'd forgotten about that girl ages ago."

"I haven't forgotten her!"

"Lower your voice!" Father shouted.

"I'm sorry," he said, more quietly. "But Mother, I told you I cared about her and I still do. She's not any different from Kitty. I don't see why I'm not allowed to date her."

"We know Kitty comes from a good family," Mother said. "Isn't that right, dear?"

"Kitty's father is a damned good employee of our company," Father growled. "He didn't have to ship his children all over the country so they'd be someone else's responsibility."

"Kitty's father has a job. If Helen's father could have found work, he wouldn't have had to do that," Jonathon reasoned, looking back and forth between his parents.

"How do you know he could keep a job?" Mother said. "He could be mentally deficient in some way, or a drunk."

"It's not true! Helen would tell me if it was." Even before Jonathon had finished the sentence, he knew it was a weak argument. Who would share a scandalous secret like that? He quickly chose a different tact. "I know Helen, Mother. She's a sweet, good, hard working girl. She's the only girl I want."

"You don't know anything about her," Mother said, waving her hand.

The dismissive gesture made Jonathon's anger flare up again. "I'm eighteen now, aren't I? I'm old enough to make my own decisions, and if I want to marry Helen, I should be able to!"

"Not if I have anything to say about it!" Father roared with his face reddening.

"Jonathon, be reasonable," Mother pleaded. "We can't risk you marrying a girl like that. You're the heir to everything – the house, the land, the business. If there is something in her history, it will be passed on to her children. They could ruin everything this family has built."

"But I'm telling you there isn't anything wrong with her!" Jonathon said desperately.

"Enough!" Father shouted, his fist slamming on the table, making the plates and cutlery rattle. "Your mother has made her decision!"

Jonathon slumped. Even though he knew he had to accept defeat, he couldn't do it. He couldn't let Helen go. "If I can't marry her, then I won't marry anyone," he said levelly.

To his horror, his mother laughed. "Don't be ridiculous! Of course you'll marry." She shook her head, then leaned towards him with a confident smile. "There are plenty of suitable girls in this town, and the minute you stop mooning over that Anderson girl, you'll see that." She picked up her knife and fork so she could finish cutting her ham slice. "I guarantee by next spring, you'll be engaged – and to the right sort of girl."

Jonathon watched her take a bite of ham while it felt like the room was pressing in on him. It was obvious to him now, she was never going to change her mind about Helen. "Please excuse me," he muttered, throwing his napkin on his plate. "I'm not hungry."

"Jonathon!" Mother said, her eyes widening as he rose.

"Let him go," Father said. When Jonathon reached the hallway, he added, "Maybe I'll finally get to eat my dinner in peace!"

He strode to the stairs, intending to go to his room, but by time he reached them, he was having a difficult time breathing.

He went out the front door, resisting the urge to slam it shut behind him. He headed for the garage and was soon running down the path to the cabin, trying to escape the anger and despair that overwhelmed him.

****

One last bid by Jonathon to get Helen has crashed and burned, and I have to say, I feel pretty sad for him.  But with the war beginning, things are going to change as life takes a drastic turn for all our characters.  There's lots to come, and I can't wait to share all the twists and turns!

I hope you enjoyed this even though it was a bit short.  If you would like to support this story, a vote, a comment letting me know what you think is going to happen with Jonathon, Helen, and Walt, and adding it to your library (if you haven't already) would be very much appreciated! 

Thank you so much for reading! 

Katherine