Lost and Found in Lavender Bay (The Lavender Bay Chronicles #2)

32. Chapter Thirty

Chapter Thirty

L aura and Joy stood on the front porch of Diana’s house. Their friend had been discharged from the hospital and was recuperating at home.

The Quinns lived in a little cottage on Peony Lane. Betty had decided not to join them, saying she wouldn’t be able to look at Diana. This angered Laura. Diana was their friend, and she needed them.

Lenore had given her a war cake to take over. And Joy had brought some homemade biscotti, which Laura was addicted to. On the way over, they’d stopped at the magazine stand and picked up a few movie magazines.

Joy pressed the doorbell, and they waited. Laura stood ramrod straight, holding the loaf of war cake in one hand.

Mrs. Quinn answered the door. “Hello, girls.”

“Hello, Mrs. Quinn,” Laura said. “We were hoping to visit Diana.”

The woman looked from one to the other. She hesitated before speaking. “I don’t know if she wants to see anyone, but I’ll ask.” She held open the door and invited them in. The house was warm and smelled of boiled cabbage. Laura and Joy stepped into a parlor that, although small, was minimally but tastefully decorated with neutral wallpaper and a matching easy chair and sofa with cream lace antimacassars over the arms and backs.

“Diana could do with some company. One minute. Let me check.” The older woman disappeared down a narrow hall, and Joy looked at Laura and shrugged as if to say, What can you do ?

Mrs. Quinn reappeared and beckoned to them. Laura and Joy followed her through the parlor and then down the hallway. Diana’s bedroom was the last one on the right.

Diana was tucked up in her bed beneath a quilt. Across from the maple bedframe was a matching five-drawer bureau, and a painting of a horse hung on the wall

When their friend looked up at them, Laura’s heart went out to her. A scarf covered her head, but bandages were visible beneath. The left side of Diana’s face was covered in black-and-blue bruises fading into a yellowish green. Her eyes were rimmed in red, and her nose was swollen.

Laura exchanged a glance with Joy, and they both approached Diana and hugged her.

There was one chair in the room, and Joy pulled it closer to the bed and offered it to Laura, who shook her head.

“Is it okay if I sit on the edge of the bed?” Laura asked. She didn’t want to be presumptuous.

“Sure,” Diana said.

Laura made herself comfortable at the end of the bed, near Diana’s covered feet.

“How are you doing, kid?” Joy asked .

Diana shrugged. She lowered her head and swiped at her eyes with an embroidered handkerchief.

“Oh, Diana, it’ll be all right,” Joy said.

Laura hovered, unsure what to do but wanting to comfort her friend in some way.

Diana sniffled and wiped at her nose with her hankie. “I don’t think it will. The doctor said the hair will never grow back because the scalp is gone, and hair can’t grow back over scar tissue.”

Laura felt slightly nauseous. Diana had had beautiful hair, just like a movie star. And she’d seen Diana’s head at the time of the accident. It had been horrific. It was a sight she was never going to forget.

Joy fumbled to say something. “It’s awful what happened to you, honey, but you can get around it. You can wear a wig or a hairpiece.”

Laura jumped in. “Joy’s right. There are lots of ways you can camouflage it.”

Diana looked at them as if to say, Really?

“Where’s Betty?” she asked.

Laura kept it vague. “She couldn’t come.”

Diana’s shoulders slumped. “I suppose it’s too much to ask of people. My friends will start dropping off.”

“Not us!” Joy said. “We’ll all still be friends.”

“But I’m not coming back to the plant,” Diana said.

“So what?” Laura asked. “And Joy’s right, you’ve got us.”

“I had a letter the other day from Preston,” Diana said. “He’s coming home on leave next month.”

Laura didn’t know what to say to this.

“Have you told him?” she asked.

Diana shook her head.

Joy leaned forward on her chair. “Don’t worry, honey. You can tell him when he gets home.”

“What if he breaks up with me?” Diana’s voice was barely above a whisper, as if it was too terrible a thought to contemplate, much less voice. “You know, when he sees it.” She glanced toward the side of her head.

Laura was quick to reassure her. “You’re getting way ahead of yourself.”

Joy jumped in. “Laura’s right. Besides, any man worth his salt would know you’re a gem. If this Preston is as nice as you say he is, you have nothing to worry about.”

“Just because you’re missing your—” Laura caught herself and clamped her mouth shut.

Diana looked at her with the first real smile since they’d arrived. “Just because I’ve got a large bald patch on the side of my head? You think he should overlook that?”

Laura and Joy went silent, but as soon as they realized Diana was being flip, they burst into giggles.

Once they stopped laughing, Laura spoke. “Yes. It should be overlooked.”

“I agree,” Joy said. “Diana, you have so many wonderful qualities and besides, haven’t men come home missing arms and legs? Their girlfriends and wives didn’t chuck them to the curb, did they?”

Laura was certain that somewhere in America, a poor GI who’d seen the wrong end of the war had got dumped, but said nothing. Because nothing was one hundred percent.

They stayed for another half an hour, bringing Diana up to date on all the gossip at work and having a cup of tea and a slice of war cake and some biscotti. By the time they left, Diana’s spirits had improved .

“That poor kid.” Joy shook her head as she drove her car in the direction of the Wainwright house.

“She’s so worried about Preston.” Laura was worried too. Not everyone would take up with someone who was disfigured. She chomped on her bottom lip, said a prayer for Diana, and hoped everything would turn out all right.

“If I didn’t love my Sam so much, I’d let Diana have him. Sam doesn’t care what you look like, as long as you can cook,” Joy said, turning off of Peony Lane.

Laura laughed. “That can’t be true! I’m sure he’s nuts about you.”

“Yeah, when I make a pan of lasagna or baked ziti,” Joy deadpanned. “I’m telling you, Laura, all his letters are about food and how I should come over and cook for the front.”

“That’s a high compliment.”

“It’s hardly romantic, is it.”

“Some men aren’t romantic,” Laura said. It was a gene that escaped some of them and seemed to be in overload in the women.

“What about Edwin? Is he romantic?” Joy asked.

Laura shifted uncomfortably in her seat. As much as she loved Joy, she didn’t want to share intimate details of her and Edwin’s relationship. She opted for vague. “Our letters are mostly about what’s going on at home and with the girls.”

But Joy pushed. “No romance?”

“Some, but not too much,” Laura said. “He’s not overly gushy. And I wouldn’t like that anyway. His letters are . . . perfect, actually.”

“Lucky. Sometimes I feel like I’m a waitress and Sam’s sending in his order. ”

Laura snorted and quickly covered her mouth with her hand. “Joy, you are too much.”

“I know, kiddo, that’s why we get on so well.”

Laura and Joy visited Diana a few times before her fiancé was due home, to keep her spirits up. They encouraged her and on the last visit, she removed her headscarf to show them her scar. Laura knew it was important not to make a big deal about it. But it looked worse than she’d anticipated. There was a large, scarred bald patch above Diana’s left ear, extending up to the top of her head and forward to her temple. There’d be no way to conceal it with the hair she did have.

“I brought something,” Joy said. She reached into the brown paper bag she’d brought and pulled out a wig of black hair.

Diana stared at it, blinking. Laura didn’t know what to say.

“Now, I know it’s not the same color as your own hair,” Joy said, “but try it on. It belongs to my cousin Rosalie. She has thinning hair and wears wigs all the time. She said you could have this one.”

Carefully, Diana took hold of the wig, flipped it around, and placed it on top of her head, wincing once when it touched the scarred bald spot.

Both Laura and Joy stared at her. That won’t do at all , Laura thought. The straight dark hair of the wig fell to Diana’s shoulders and was styled with severe bangs covering the forehead. Laura reached for a small mirror that sat atop the bureau and handed it to Diana .

Diana studied her reflection, turning her head this way and that to get a better view. She looked up at her friends, who waited with anticipation.

“I can’t decide if I look like Cleopatra or Mata Hari.” She tugged the wig off and handed it back. “I do appreciate it, Joy, please don’t think I don’t.”

“It’s okay, honey, you’re not a brunette. The color does nothing for your complexion.”

They all looked at each other and started to laugh.

Joy patted her arm. “See, you find you can laugh again.”

“As long as I don’t leave the house.” There was bitterness in Diana’s voice. She hung her head, and Laura recognized this as part of Diana’s pattern: all was okay, and then something triggered a downward spiral. It could be days before she’d come out of it. She and Joy had compared notes with Mrs. Quinn, who was appreciative of their frequent visits.

“Don’t say that.” Laura hated seeing her friend like this. She knew too well what it felt like to have to hide away in your house. Small towns were wonderful but like anything, there were disadvantages.

She planted herself on the edge of Diana’s bed. “I’m a living example that you can show yourself in public and go on.”

Diana’s eyes locked with hers, and Laura wondered if she already knew.

Joy’s eyebrows knitted together. “What do you mean?”

Laura swallowed hard, reminding herself that these women were her friends and they’d been through a lot in a short period of time. Drawing in a sharp breath, she gathered her thoughts and poured forth her story regarding the death of her sister’s husband and the grief and shame she’d brought down on her family.

“In the beginning, she said, “I was treated like I was invisible by everyone in town. I thought it would always be like that, that I’d have to hide out in my house and never leave it.”

Joy and Diana appeared to digest what she had told them.

“I’m surprised neither one of you has heard the story before.”

“Not me,” Joy said. “But it doesn’t matter anyway.”

“I knew of it,” Diana admitted.

“But you didn’t say anything. And you became my friend.” This surprised Laura. She realized that maybe some lingering aftereffects of that time in her life still clung to her.

Diana shrugged. “Someone mentioned it at some point. I don’t remember. Anyway, like Joy says, it doesn’t matter, does it?”

Maybe it didn’t matter anymore. Or maybe the impact had lessened with time.

“The point is, when I met Edwin, I was honest with him and told him everything upfront, and he stuck with me,” Laura said.

“I hope Preston will be like that,” Diana fretted.

“Of course he will. It’ll be fine,” Joy said.

“Okay, so what do I do about this when Preston comes home?” Diana circled her finger around the side of her head.

“I could look around for a wig closer to your own hair color,” Joy suggested .

“I can’t have you do that,” Diana said. “You’re working six days a week. You’ve got children at home. No, the wig is out. Besides, the netting inside irritates my bald spot.”

“What about colorful headscarves?” Laura asked.

Diana smirked. “You do see the irony in this, don’t you? At the plant, I refused to wear a headscarf properly, and now I’ll be wearing them for the rest of my life. God certainly has a cruel sense of humor.”

“Don’t think about that. Laura and I will get some nice scarves for you.”

“We’ll get ones to match the dresses you already have,” Laura told her.

With a nod, Diana waved a hand toward the closet. “Take a look through my wardrobe.”

They moved hangers down the rack. There were several dresses: a white floral, a green, and a navy dress with white polka dots.

“What will I do about stockings?” Diana moaned.

There was nothing that could be done about that. Nylon had been commandeered by the war department to make parachutes and other essential items for the war.

“Do you have a pair of the rayon or cotton?” Joy asked of the substitutes that some women used.

Diana grimaced. “I do, but they sag around the ankles and knees. I look like I have elephant legs with all the wrinkles.”

Laura thought for a moment. “They’ve got leg makeup out there that supposedly lasts for a couple of days.”

“I don’t know,” Diana said.

“Or you could wear ankle socks,” Joy suggested.

“I’ll look like I’m twelve again and at my height, it would be hard to pull off. ”

“Or we could draw a seam on the back of your legs with eyebrow pencil.” Joy was excited about that one.

Laura had tried that once. Edwin had gotten a ruler and drawn a line down the back of her legs using a black eyebrow pencil. The memory of it brought a smile to her face. But she shook her head. “If it rains or you cross your legs, it rubs off and it’s a mess.”

They all thought for a moment.

“If you wore slacks,” Laura said, “no one would know.”

These days, more and more women were wearing slacks. Laura wore them too; they were much more comfortable than dresses.

Joy shook her head and disagreed. “No, that won’t work. He’s just spent lots of time cooped up with hundreds of men wearing pants. He’s going to want to see her in a dress. He deserves to see her in one. Besides, she’s got a great pair of gams. Like Betty Grable.”

Laura folded her arms across her chest. “You’re right.”

Diana sighed. “Let me think about it.”

They left her to mull it over. Her boyfriend wouldn’t be home for a couple of weeks, so she didn’t have to make a decision that day.

“Any word from Diana?” Joy asked as soon as Laura slid into the front seat. They were working the afternoon shift.

At least it wasn’t the night shift. The thing Laura didn’t like about working four to midnight was you were hanging around all day waiting to go to work. On the other hand, she did get a lot done around her parents’ house before she left. They were definitely slowing down, and now she realized that it had been a good idea for her and the girls to move in with them while Edwin was overseas.

She shook her head and slammed the door. “Nope.”

Diana’s boyfriend had arrived home yesterday, but there’d been no word. Laura had been praying for her.

“Diana’s a top-notch gal. I’d hate to see her get hurt,” Joy said, echoing Laura’s thoughts.

“You and me both.”

“Let’s cross our fingers and hope for the best.”