Page 50 of All We Thought We Knew

Gertrude’s scowl told me she didn’t want to divulge that information, but when she finally said the amount—far more than I’d expected—I knew I’d discovered the reason Ivy Lee was moving to the farm.

“You’re always saying we don’t have enough money,” she huffed. “If you don’t like Ivy’s being here,youtell her she can’t move in.”

I heaved a sigh. “I just wish you would have discussed this with me before offering to rent a room, that’s all. But you’re right. We can definitely use the extra income.”

I followed Gertrude back to the kitchen, but Ivy Lee wasn’t where we’d left her. A noise came from the parlor. When we reached the doorway, we found our new boarder rifling through the drawer of the desk in the corner.

“Ahem,”I said.

The nosy woman startled. When she looked up, she sent us a sheepish look. “I was lookin’ for a pencil.”

My gaze dropped from her unapologetic expression to the holder on the desktop, filled with half a dozen perfectly fit writing instruments.

“Oh, how silly of me,” she said when she glanced at them too.

Whether she was truly that scatterbrained or had just given us evidence of her untrustworthiness, I wasn’t certain, but it served to put me on edge.

“Why don’t we sit down and get to know one another.” I proceeded to settle on the sofa without giving her or Gertrude the opportunity to decline.

Once we were seated, I asked, “When would you like to move in?”

“As soon as possible. I’m staying at a motel over in Shelbyville, but I start my new job at Camp Forrest tomorrow.”

“I work at the camp, too,” I said. “What department are you in?”

“It’s top secret, hon. You know how that is.”

I forced myself not to roll my eyes. “What about your family? Where are they?”

“All my kin are in Memphis. That’s where I grew up. Daddy’s an important politician, and Mama is a member of the DARandthe Daughters of the Confederacy.”

I nodded, pretending to be impressed. “I’m sure they’ll miss you.”

Her gaze landed on a framed photograph of Richard on the mantel. “He sure is handsome. Who is he? One of your boarders, I hope.”

Her coquettish grin rankled. I glanced at Gertrude to see if she would put the girl in her place, but she just stared at the black-and-white picture, taken right after Richard joined the Navy.

“That is my husband, Richard. Gertrude’s son.” I met the young woman’s curious gaze. “He died at Pearl Harbor.”

Ivy Lee took in a gulp of air, and, for the first time, she spoke with sincerity. “I’m very sorry. I didn’t know.”

I stood, indicating our meeting was over.

Ivy Lee followed. It was decided she would move in tomorrow evening after work, and she bid us goodbye.

Gertrude and I ate leftover meatloaf in silence. I volunteered to wash the dishes, and Gertrude disappeared upstairs. Although I had more questions about Ivy Lee and how we would handle a boarder, they would have to wait until morning.

I started in the direction of my room, turning out lights as I went. In the parlor, I stopped in front of Richard’s photograph. Ivy Lee was right. He truly was handsome. All the girls at the USO in Nashville thought him dreamy, and more than one looked at me with envy when he asked me to dance.

“I wish you were here,” I whispered. “Everything is so different without you.”

Unfortunately, wishes like that don’t come true.

I flicked off the lamp and retreated to my room where I readied for bed. Beneath the cold sheets, I stared into the darkness.

Suddenly, a man’s face appeared in my mind, his eyes brilliant blue, but it wasn’t Richard.

I fell asleep thinking about the German internee, Gunther Schneider.