“Come on. Let’s get dressed for dinner.”
“All right.” No squeak this time, thank goodness, but she couldn’t help but sigh. Had she imagined that moment? That look in his eyes? As if he wanted to kiss her?
Her lungs filled with perfumed ocean air. She’d dreamed of a whole romantic weekend, but she’d had one romantic moment. For now, that would have to do.
21
Boston
Sunday, September 7, 1941
After the last rousing chord of “God of Our Fathers,” Jim sat down next to Arch in the pew at Park Street Church.
Time for the choral anthem. Behind him, up in the gallery, he could barely see Mary in her black choir robe. The choir director waved her baton, and the musical introduction started.
Jim’s grip tightened on the stiff brim of his cover in his lap.Lord, hold Mary up.
She met Jim’s eye. He gave her a huge smile and mimed hauling on a rope to hoist a sail, despite the odd look Arch gave him. Mary rewarded him with a brief smile. Right now it was more important for Jim to be a good friend than a debonair suitor.
Some debonair suitor he was. The previous weekend in Connecticut he’d had several opportunities to push their friendship over the threshold into romance. And he’d wasted every one. He could still see her buttoning up his shirt, her dark head bent close to his, her silvery eyes glancing up to him full of affection and self-consciousness.
He’d wanted to stroke her cheek, to embrace her, to tell her he needed help with the rest of his buttons, to burrow in her hair, to kiss her forehead, kiss her lips. Torn between so many good options, he’d frozen. Then when Gloria stormed by, all the options evaporated.
All week he’d told himself the timing had been wrong. Starting a romance the same day Arch and Gloria broke up would have been insensitive.
Jim’s leg jiggled. Yet how much time did he have before they shipped out again? Not much.
The voices of the choir rose in a triumphant anthem. Was it his imagination, or did the soprano section sound stronger? Perhaps Mary’s courage had bolstered the rest of the ladies. Courage did that.
Arch shifted in the seat beside him. Thank goodness Durant had given them liberty today. Not only did Jim want to cheer for Mary the first time she sang with the choir, but Arch needed a distraction.
Since the breakup, Arch had alternated between stony and melancholy. He was furious with Gloria for being more enamored with his inheritance than his heart, and he was furious with himself for being snared by another gold digger.
In a few weeks, Jim could talk to Arch about his unrealistic expectations, but not now. Now Arch needed his fury.
The song ended, and Dr. Harold Ockenga approached the pulpit, prayed, and started his sermon.
Jim had enjoyed every one of the pastor’s sermons he’d heard, but today he couldn’t concentrate. He wanted to see Mary and find out how she was doing.
No one else in the building knew the fullness of what today meant for her, how she’d faced her worst memory and deepest fear. His satisfaction that she’d confided in him and his admiration for her strength filled his chest.
What a wonderful woman she was, and how blessed he was to call her a friend. And perhaps soon, something more.
Finally the organ played the recessional. Jim strode down the aisle and out to the second-floor lobby. Mary came down a spiral staircase on his left, her choir robe swinging around her shapely calves.
He dashed to her. “Good job. I’m proud of you.”
“Thank you.” She gave him a twitchy smile and clutched her choir book to her chest. Her hands shook.
If only he could take her hands and smooth away the tremors, but a church service was no place for a romantic overture.
Mary stepped aside to let other choir members pass. “I need to put away my robe and book.”
“Oh, sure. Sure. I’ll meet you outside.” Would he ever attain suave? He joined Arch and went down one of the twin spiral staircases to the ground floor, then down to the sidewalk.
Arch was quiet, gazing up at the red brick façade and the white spire, but Jim paced until Mary glided down the steps in a flowery dress.
“Wasn’t the sermon wonderful?” She even smelled like flowers. “Isn’t it remarkable that he spoke on Isaiah 43? Exactly what I needed, and perfect for you, Jim.”
