chapter SEVENTEEN
~ 1966 ~
Letter from Lorrie:
January 24, 1966
Dear Curtis,
I think I actually squealed when I got your letter and I saw the picture. It was the first time I’ve seen you in more than a year, and I broke down and cried again. But these were good tears, because I now have something that I can look at every day. Your mom got me a picture frame, and now I have it sitting on my nightstand, where I can look at you every night before I go to sleep. I got your mom to take a picture of me, and I’m putting it in the envelope.
Your mom got a letter from Gerald. He’s doing well, she says. Since he was wounded, they gave him the opportunity to come home, but he refused. Says there is so much he needs to do, that he isn’t willing to sacrifice what he’s already given up just yet. He’s still not coming home, and I think that makes her sad. I can’t imagine what she’s going through having two of her sons away from home. I know if I were her, I’d be sad, too.
Oh, and I forgot to tell you, I got to ride a horse for the first time. Joseph taught me. It’s now one of my favorite things to do. Once the weather warms up, I’m hoping to start riding more. If your mom will let me. According to your sister (Daphne), your mom is a little overprotective, so it might take a little coaxing on my part.
Miss you and love you always!
Love,
Lorrie
MONDAY, FEBRUARY 14, 1966
It’s Valentine’s Day, a day that I wasn’t really looking forward to. Not that I’m celebrating, because Curtis isn’t here, which makes it so hard. I feel like I’ve spent too many years without him, and it’s only been one. Just when I thought my life couldn’t get better (when we got married), he left. According to his letters, he’s doing good. He says he misses me, too.
I worry about him a lot. Worry that he’s going to get hurt or… I try not to think about the worst parts, but I can’t help it. What if he never came back? Where would my life be then? He’s the reason I breathe, and I wouldn’t know what to do without him.
I’ve read his letters over and over, especially the parts where he says he can’t wait to come home. Sometimes he even tells me that he cries. That breaks my heart the most. I hope he knows I will always be here waiting for him. Always.
WEDNESDAY, MAY 14, 1966
Tonight was my senior prom. I didn’t go, although David offered to take me if I really wanted to go. It was sweet of him, but I know Curtis probably put him up to it. The last thing I want to do right now is dance or celebrate. I’ll reserve all of that for when Curtis finally does come home. It was kinda fun to see Joseph and his date get dressed up, though. They looked happy.
WEDNESDAY, MAY 25, 1966
I graduated from high school today, along with Joseph. Mrs. Walker and all the kids came, as well as Kathy and Celeste. Mrs. Walker gave me a card that Curtis had sent for the occasion (which was the highlight of the day). Momma and Daddy said they couldn’t make it. I hadn’t expected them to, but it still hurt my feelings that they didn’t make the effort. Now I don’t know what I’m going to do with the free time I have. Mrs. Walker is letting me make a lot of the meals now that I’ve gotten a handle on the whole cooking thing, which I really enjoy doing. I’m also working on the ranch, and I’m hoping she will allow me to do that more. I think she worries about me getting hurt, but I’m careful. I just need to find the courage to talk to her about it, because I really need this. I need something to do to keep my mind off Curtis.
SUNDAY, JUNE 26, 1966
Oh, my goodness. You won’t believe this! Helen Jenkins got married today. The boy she married isn’t from here, and she won’t be staying in Granite Creek (probably because she thinks she’s too good for it). I wasn’t invited, but I didn’t expect to be. Helen has been making fun of me. Always telling me I’m wasting my life waiting on Curtis. She doesn’t understand that I live and breathe for that man. I’ll wait an eternity for him if I have to.
Letter from Curtis:
July 26, 1966
Lorrie,
Hey, baby. Today is your eighteenth birthday. As I sit here and stare at your picture, I wish that I was there with you. It’s weird to think that another birthday has come and gone.
I haven’t been doing a whole lot lately other than staying here on base. I’ve gotten out with the guys a few times for drinks, but it’s not the same since I can’t be with you. They spend a lot of time trying to hook up with girls, but I have absolutely no interest. You are my girl, the only girl in the world for me. In fact, I’m thinking about getting a tattoo with your name on it. Those are a big deal here. Everyone wants one. What do you think about that? Would you want me to get your name tattooed on my body?
When I’m working, it feels like time flies, but when I’m here in my bunk, all I can do is think that time is crawling by so slowly. Instead of waiting for school to start, you’ll be… It just dawned on me that I don’t know what you want to do now that you’ve graduated. You’re so smart; I know you could do anything you want. And Lorrie, I want you to know that I will support anything you want to do. Whether you want to go to college, or if you want to work on the ranch, or if you want to stay home and take care of the house (and ultimately all the kids we plan to have). It’s up to you, baby. Anything you want.
I love you.
Curtis
Letter from Lorrie:
September 2, 1966
Dear Curtis,
Your letter made me both happy and sad, I won’t lie. I could almost picture sitting on the couch with you and having that conversation about what I want to do now that I’m finished with school. But I also sensed that your letter was short for a reason. I’ve been hoping I was wrong, but I’m starting to think that you are purposely avoiding me. That breaks my heart.
And no, I didn’t have to go back to school this year. It was a little strange to see your brothers and sisters heading out while I was still sitting in the house. I don’t know what to think about that yet. In fact, I don’t think much about it at all. School gave me something to do, but that’s it. I really like working on the ranch. I also help Carol when I can. I can honestly tell you that I would never want a housekeeper or a cook of my own. I like taking care of my own things. The only thing that would make me truly happy would be to take care of you and our family. Maybe I’m not supposed to feel that way anymore. I don’t know. I’ve been reading books that say women are allowed to embrace the world. For me, I am.
When we have kids, I would definitely want to stay home with them, if I can. It’s not that I don’t want to work. Helping out on the ranch has been thrilling. I never thought I’d enjoy it after Daddy always complained how bad it was. Maybe it’s the fact that I’m working for my family. (I am, after all, a Walker now.) Whatever it is, I’m just trying to make it one day at a time.
Speaking of kids … I’m ready, Curtis. I’m ready to make love to you, to spend the night in your bed, feeling your body hovering above mine. It’s all I can think about these days. Maybe this wasn’t the right way to tell you, but I had to get it out there. You need to know how I really feel. And no, this doesn’t have anything to do with the fact that I’m another year older. It’s just how it is. You are no longer allowed to tell me I’m not ready. That’s no longer your decision to make.
Love and miss you always and forever.
Love,
Lorrie
P.S. It took a long time for me to write that last paragraph. Like, two whole days.
P.P.S. I think a tattoo would be very sexy on you.
SUNDAY, OCTOBER 23, 1966
I suggested something new today. I asked Mrs. Walker if I could cook dinner and if we could have the entire family home for it. I was surprised to see the smile that lit up her face. She agreed, then the two of us worked in the kitchen together. She told the kids that they had to be here, and everyone showed up. Afterwards, I helped her clean the kitchen, and we agreed that, from now on, we would have supper together on Sundays. I like the idea of that. I think it’s a great tradition, one that I want to have with my own kids one day.
FRIDAY, DECEMBER 2, 1966
It has officially been two years since Curtis left. Two years since I’ve seen his handsome face (in person). He’s been sending me pictures, but those are still just images on paper and not as good as the real thing. I remember when he told me he enlisted, he said he would be gone for three years. I thought I would get to see him at least once. I thought that was how it worked, but it seems as though Curtis isn’t allowed to come home. He has only called a couple of times since the day I broke down on the phone, but he hasn’t spoken to me, only to his mother. I can’t exactly blame him. It probably wasn’t easy listening to me sobbing uncontrollably, so maybe that’s why he doesn’t call. He knows it’s hard on me. He has mentioned how much he is working, and I’m glad that he’s not on the front lines in harm’s way. That helps to ease my mind a little, but nothing would be better than if I got to see him. I miss him terribly.