Page 50 of The Women of Oak Ridge

“I haven’t mentioned anything about Sissy to Georgeanne,” I said, glancing at the small house next door, “but if we don’t get answers soon, I may ask her. If there’s anyone in Oak Ridge who might know something, it would be Georgeanne.”

Jonas chuckled. “She’s definitely a deep well of information.”

Dad’s voice drifted through the open door. It sounded as though he was talking to Peggy.

“Do you want to come inside?” I asked Jonas.

He shook his head and stood. “I’m on my way to work, but,” he paused, a slight grin inching up his face, “if everything is okay here tomorrow, maybe we can have dinner.”

I couldn’t help but smile. “That sounds nice.”

“Good. I’ll call you later.”

Dad arrived on the porch as Jonas was driving away. He gave me a knowing look as he took a seat.

“We’re just friends, Dad,” I said, returning to the chair I’d been sitting in when Jonas arrived.

He chuckled. “I may be old, Laurel Ann, but I remember how I felt when your mother and I met. Your eyes light up when you’re with Jonas.”

I’d never been able to hide things from Dad. “I admit I like him. A lot. But my job, my family, my life is in Boston. His life is here, in Oak Ridge. A relationship beyond friendship would be too complicated.”

We sat in silence for a while, looking out toward the tree-covered hills in the distance.

“Oak Ridge is a special place,” he said.

“Not only because it was a secret city during the war and has a fascinating history connected to the Manhattan Project, but I became a man here. Mama was frail and worn out by the time Pa passed and we moved from Kentucky to live with Mae. I was only fifteen, but I got a job after school and had to grow up. When I graduated from high school, Mae was adamant that I leave Oak Ridge. I’d planned to attend the University of Tennessee in Knoxville so I could still take care of Mama and Mae.

During the war, UT started the V-12 Navy College Training Program, which offered students a path to a Navy commission.

That was my plan, but Mae put her foot down. ”

“Wow,” I said. “You were going to join the Navy?”

He nodded. “It seemed like a good option, but Mae didn’t want me in the military.

The war was hard on her. On everyone. She convinced me to leave all that behind and go into business.

My high school accounting teacher had graduated from Boston University and helped me apply to the school.

He wrote a letter of recommendation and somehow I ended up with a partial scholarship.

” A gentle smile touched his lips. “Mama was so proud. She told me to spread my wings and fly, so I did.”

“I wish I could have known Grandma.”

“She would’ve loved you and your sisters.

” He took my hand. “If I hadn’t listened to Mae and changed my plans, I would have never met your mother.

Life is too short to be set on one certain idea and miss all the wonderful surprises that come along.

Surprises that can alter what we thought was the right path for ourselves but actually ends up being the very thing we needed to make us happy. ”

His words stirred something deep inside me. A hope for the future that had nothing to do with degrees and jobs. “I hear what you’re saying, Daddy.”

He kissed my knuckles. “Now,” he said, a teasing tone in his voice, “I’m not telling you to move away from us. There are plenty of jobs for cops in Boston.”

I had to laugh at that.

It was after five o’clock when Aunt Mae roused. She was groggy and weak but wanted to sit in the living room and watch the evening news.

“Remember what the doctor said about overstimulation,” Dad reminded her. “Television, radio, and reading are to be limited until your brain fully heals.”

“I just want to hear what Walter Cronkite has to say, then we can shut it off.” She rubbed her temple. “I do have a bit of a headache.”

“Can I get you some aspirin, Aunt Mae?” I jumped up from my place on the sofa, ready to help.

“No, dear, but thank you. I took some a little while ago.”

I watched her closely, concerned about the slight slurring of her words. When I glanced at Dad, he nodded, indicating he’d noticed it too. He clicked on the television set and turned the knob to switch channels. Walter Cronkite’s familiar voice soon filled the room.

The Dow Jones was up, while treasury bill rates dropped. A leak caused the 800‐mile Trans‐Alaska pipeline to be shut down. Race car driver Bobby Unser broke a three‐year victory drought.

Then Cronkite’s voice turned serious.

“In news from Great Britain, the trial of Letty Gladding, the woman arrested for spying for Russia, is over.”

Aunt Mae uttered a strange sound. When I looked her way, I found her wide eyes fixed on the television screen.

“Mrs. Gladding was found guilty of violating the Official Secrets Act, legislation that provides for the protection of state secrets and official information,” Cronkite continued.

A mugshot of Mrs. Gladding filled the screen behind him.

“During World War II and in the years that followed, Mrs. Gladding worked in British government offices as a secretary. She has been found guilty of passing classified information to the Soviets, including materials regarding Tube Alloys, the British atomic weapons program during the 1940s. She is the latest of what are being called ‘atomic spies’ to be prosecuted. Here in the United States, it is believed many spies within the Manhattan Project have yet to be positively identified.”

The jingle for a laundry detergent commercial replaced his solemn voice.

“It’s crazy that they’re still uncovering spies all these years later,” Dad said.

“Mrs. Gladding was arrested the day I came to the house and asked you all those questions about Oak Ridge,” I said. “I wouldn’t know about the Secret City if I hadn’t walked into the faculty lounge while Dr. Baca was watching the news.”

I turned to see what Aunt Mae thought about the fascinating story.

“Aunt Mae, have you ever...?” My voice trailed. Something was wrong. Her face had gone pale, eyes glazed over. Her body shook. “Aunt Mae?”

Dad and I rose simultaneously.

“Mae?” Dad knelt in front of her. “Can you hear me, Mae?”

“I didn’t want to do it,” she whispered, panic in the words. “He made me. He was going to hurt Harry and Mama and Pa, just like he hurt Sissy. I couldn’t let him do it. I couldn’t let him.” She began to sob uncontrollably.

Dad gathered her into his arms. She clung to him, desperation in her tight grip.

“I’ll get some water.” I ran to the kitchen and filled a glass. I also grabbed a dish towel, wet the edge, and hurried back to the living room.

Dad gently pulled out of Aunt Mae’s frantic clutches. I handed him the glass.

“Have a sip of water, Mae,” he said, his voice full of worry. “You need to calm down and tell me what’s happening.” He tipped the glass to her lips, but she pushed it away, sloshing it onto her lap.

“You don’t understand.” Fear flooded her eyes as her gaze darted around the room.

“He knows. He knows where I live. Where Harry lives. The girls. He’ll hurt them if I ever tell anyone.

Oh, Sissy, Sissy. I don’t know what to do.

” She covered her face with her hands and sobbed. “I don’t know what to do.”

Dad stood and motioned me into the hallway. “I think we should get her back to the hospital. It was a mistake to bring her home so soon.”

“I’ll call the emergency number,” I said and hurried into the kitchen to use the telephone. When I returned to the living room, Dad was crouched beside Aunt Mae, holding her hand while she muttered unintelligibly.

The sound of a siren soon echoed in the warm evening air. I opened the door as it came closer. Not only did an ambulance arrive within the next minute, but a police cruiser too. Jonas climbed out and strode to where I stood on the porch.

“I was on patrol and heard the call,” he said, concern in his eyes.

My voice trembled as I quickly told him what had happened. We followed the ambulance attendants into the house where they gathered around Aunt Mae, blocking our view of her.

“Ms. Willett, do you know where you are?” one of the men asked. Aunt Mae mumbled something that sounded like home . The attendant asked more questions, then turned to Dad to get the full story on the situation.

When one of the men stepped to the side, Aunt Mae’s gaze landed on Jonas.

Her eyes grew wild, and she let out a piercing scream. “Don’t arrest me. Don’t arrest me. He made me do it. I didn’t want to take the papers. I didn’t want to, but I had to protect my family. I couldn’t let him hurt them. I couldn’t.”

She grew more hysterical, fighting the ambulance attendants. Dad tried to calm her, but it was as though she didn’t hear him. As though her mind had carried her away to another time and place. A place where she lived in fear.

It was excruciating to watch. Tears rolled down my face. Jonas put his arm around me and pulled me against his side.

With Dad’s permission, the men sedated Aunt Mae.

In a matter of seconds, she grew quiet. While one of the men took her pulse, the other motioned us outside to talk.

When we gained the porch, I noticed Georgeanne stood beside her mailbox with several people.

I’m sure Aunt Mae and the ambulance were the talk of the neighborhood.

“I believe your sister suffered a panic attack,” the man said.

“Her blood pressure is elevated, but it isn’t alarming.

I don’t see signs of stroke or any other serious condition that would warrant hospitalization.

However, we can transport her to the emergency room for observation, if that’s your wish. ”

Dad’s face bore his concern. “I don’t really know what to do. She seemed fine this morning when the doctor released her.”