“Adversity is the diamond dust Heaven polishes its jewels with.”

Thomas Carlyle

One week later

“What do you mean you aren’t going back to Austin? You have two more semesters to finish.” How could he have kept this from her? “I thought you were only taking a break?”

“I am taking a break. A year long break.” Joe sighed. “The college money is gone. I’ll work with Pa at the garage, earn enough for my final semesters, and then finish up next year.”

“And our wedding?”

He had proposed the previous year, and they were to be married as soon as he graduated. They hadn’t bothered with a formal engagement. His class ring had been enough. Joey had worked hard to help his parents put him through school, and money was always tight. She hadn’t minded that or the wait, but another year? No, no, no!

“It will have to be postponed.” His thumb brushed her cheek. “I’m so sorry, darlin’. If there was any way I could—”

“Where did the money go?”

His face turned a dull red, reflecting the anger that crept into his voice. “Medical bills. Hospitals are expensive, you know. Was I supposed to argue about money while my mother lay dying? Deny her treatment that could make her more comfortable? It wasn’t my money to begin with.”

Laura looked at his clenched fists and tight lips. She’d never had to worry about money. Not that the McCalls were poor. People just didn’t budgt for that kind of sickness. “I’m sorry. It must be so frustrating for you, so close to graduation.” Tears of guilt burned the back of her eyes. “I’m just ready to start our life together.”

He twisted in the front of seat of the ’47 Chevy and pulled her close. “And I’m sorry for raising my voice. I know it’s frustrating but it’s only a year. We’re lucky Pa’s hired mechanic got drafted, or I’m not sure what I’d do. Slinging sodas at Berkley’s sure wouldn’t pay my tuition.”

He was right. They needed to count their blessings. She picked at her skirt, disappointment building in her chest. “I suppose it will give your dad and brother more time to get used to the idea of being alone.”

They had talked about different newspaper or radio stations where Joe would apply for a position as a reporter or a commentator. He preferred field reporting, which would mean relocation to a big city. But all these plans to move away had been made before his mother died.

“Look at it this way. Your mom and Betsy have more time for your wedding plans. We had talked about June, so it will be the following June.” He kissed her on the forehead. “I’ll only love you more by then, if that helps any.”

Her mother’s voice echoed in her ear. You have your whole lives in front of you. Be patient. And Betsy Schroeder would be thrilled to have her best friend around for another year. “If you love me any more, I’ll burst. Besides, I won’t finish my secretarial training until May. A year at an office, practicing my shorthand, will help my resume when we settle somewhere.”

This had been another point of contention between them that had taken months to settle. Joe wanted his wife to stay at home and take care of their growing family. She had argued that prices were higher in a big city, and an extra income would tide them over until Joe’s career took off. Not to mention the time he might be away from home if he was sent away on assignments. Laura Beth did not want to sit in a tiny apartment by herself with a baby to take care of and no support nearby. They would wait a year or two before having children.

“Now about Thanksgiving,” Joe said in a hesitant voice. “I don’t know what kind of divine intervention took place to get your father to agree, but are you sure this will be all right?”

“It’ll be fine, hon. Daddy couldn’t imagine his little girl being somewhere else on a holiday, so he gave in.”

“That’s my point. I don’t like being considered an ultimatum.” He held out his palm to stop the denial. “We’ll be family soon, but we aren’t yet. He didn’t smile at me until after I proposed.”

“He knew you were serious then.” Laura smiled, remembering her father’s comments about buying the milk or getting it for free. Her mother would slap him on the shoulder and tell him to mind his words. But after the engagement was official, Daddy had nodded in approval.

“I’ve been serious about you since the day Roger Willard bought you a malt. I saw him give you the eye yesterday.”

His look of disgust made her giggle. “He’s very happy with Betsy now, so stop.”

“I hope so, ‘cuz he ain’t gettin’ my gal.” He laid the twang on thick as his fingers fiddled with the top button of her coat, traced her lips, and finally circled the hollow of her throat. “Dang, you’re beautiful Laura Beth.”

The Mills Brothers came on the radio as his lips touched hers. She smiled as the lyrics filled the car, her knees knocking together to the beat.

Shine little glow-worm, glimmer, glimmer

Her eyes closed as the familiar passion grew in her belly.

Lead us lest too far we wander.

His hand moved to the next button and the next.

Love’s sweet voice is calling yonder!

She put her palm over his hand and continued kissing him, but he pulled back. Tension replaced the warmth and made her shiver.

Hey there don’t get dimmer, dimmer.

“I’m sorry, Joey. But I can’t…especially with the wedding postponed now—”

A ragged sigh escaped his lips, and he touched his forehead to hers. “I know. I just need you so badly.” The huskiness in his voice sent her heart pounding. “You keep me sane, Laura Beth. I want to fold you up and keep you in my pocket.”

“You say the silliest things!” But another kiss cut off her next words and her breath. She loved this man like crazy, and nothing would stop them from getting married. He was hers, heart and soul.

* * *

“Son, you’ve got some mail.”

The tone of his father’s voice sent a chill through Joey. He looked over his shoulder, straightened up, and smacked his head on the hood of the Crosley station wagon. Rubbing his scalp then wiping oily hands on his overalls, he walked across the garage. Pa handed him the envelope with an official-looking seal in the corner.

Joe held it as if it were poison. “Do you want me to open it, son?”

He shook his head, the pulse beating rapidly in his neck. With trembling fingers, he tore at the paper. The words blurred as he sunk onto the couch. “It’s a conscription notice,” he whispered, looking into his father’s terrified eyes. “I’m being drafted.”

“It’s my fault.” Max sunk down next to his son with a moan. “If I hadn’t spent your college tuition, you’d be in school right now.”

“It’s nobody’s fault, Pa. You served your time, and now it’s my turn.” He waved the letter in the air. “Maybe we’ll end up with matching limps.” It was a bad attempt at humor, and he wanted to take the words back as soon as they left his mouth. Unlike many of his friends, Joe did not have any romantic ideas about soldiering. His father had been straight up with him about the horrors of war.

“I just pray you come back, boy, and you don’t have to live through what I did.” The lines on his father’s face seemed to have deepened in the last five minutes. He swiped his palms at his eyes and squeezed Joe’s arm as he stood. “When do you go?”

“It says I report for my physical January 2 at ten o’clock.” Maybe he wouldn’t see active combat. He wasn’t chicken, but his father still screamed at night once in awhile. His mother said they were night terrors left over from WWII. “I do have a skill, Pa. I’m sure they need mechanics.”

“That’s true, son. Maybe they’ll have you keep those jeeps running for the generals.” He forced a chuckle. “Go on and get out of here now. It’s Friday night and you’ve got a purty little gal to take to the movie.”

An awkward silence ensued as both men stared at the floor. Laura Beth. How would he tell her? It was bad enough they had to postpone their wedding, but now this? It was just plain bad luck. And they’d all had enough of that for one year. The thought of the tears welling up in those clear, blue eyes made his blood cold. She’d been their savior these past months, and now he would break her heart.

“I’ll get cleaned up, I guess.” Joe headed to the door then stopped. Without turning around he said, “She’s really gonna flip, Pa. I think telling her might be as hard as going.”

“The only thing worse than war was losing your mother, so go on now and get ‘er done.”