Second Chances in Lavender Bay (The Lavender Bay Chronicles #3)

32. Chapter Thirty

Chapter Thirty

1947

“ M ore tiramisu?” Sam asked Diana.

She shook her head. As much as she loved the dessert, she was stuffed. This happened every Sunday at Joy and Sam’s house. Diana always ate too much. It was hard not to, the food was so delicious. It was a nice break from the steady diet of meat and potatoes she and her mother tended to eat at home. Today, stuffed shells had been on the menu.

“Are you sure?” he asked again from his seat at the head of the table. Joy sat to his right, and Diana sat to his left. Their three kids, along with Laura and her husband Edwin and their two girls, rounded out the rest of the table. For whatever reason, this place next to Sam had become her spot.

She laughed. You couldn’t help but like Sam Ruggiero. He went out of his way to make people feel at home. “I can’t, Sam.”

“Well, if you won’t, I will.” He helped himself to a generous second portion. He looked briefly around the table and asked, “Anyone else? What about you, Edna? Edith? Put some meat on those bones.”

“No!” Edna yelled, laughing.

“Oh, Sam!” Joy said. “He’s put on twenty pounds since the war ended,” she told her guests.

“But I lost twenty pounds while I was fighting the war,” Sam was quick to point out, “so I’m right back where I started. Ain’t I, hon?”

Joy gave up.

That’s how it was in this house: loud and boisterous, and Diana enjoyed every minute of it. The weekly dinner was something she looked forward to in her long, dull week.

Still smiling, she stood along with Joy and Laura to begin cleaning up. As soon as they got up, the kids did also, and began running around the house, chasing each other. Neither Sam nor Edwin appeared to notice. Edwin moved to Diana’s vacant seat and as she headed into the kitchen carrying a pile of plates, she heard their talk of Harry Truman.

Diana set her pile of plates on the counter. Joy was already filling the pan in the sink with water and dish soap. Laura began scraping what was left on the plates into the trash.

Diana made several trips to the dining room to clear the rest of the dishes. On her last round, Sam was leaned back, smoking a cigarette, while Edwin had both elbows on the table. The conversation had shifted from politics to baseball, specifically the Brooklyn Dodgers.

Smiling, she returned to the kitchen and scraped the last of the plates as Laura, dish towel in hand, had started to dry the dishes while Joy washed.

“Do you want me to put the rest of these shells in a smaller dish?” Diana asked, eyeing the roasting pan on the stove. The pan was too big for the small amount of shells that were left over.

“That’d be great.” Joy nodded to a bottom cabinet next to her, adding, “You’ll find a smaller roasting pan in there. You can cover it with tin foil.”

Diana bent down and retrieved a more suitable pan for the leftovers. Using a large spoon, she transferred the remaining shells into the smaller pan, covering them with tin foil as instructed.

“How are things going at the answering service?” Diana asked Laura about her new job.

“Good, I like it,” Laura said.

“You don’t mind working overnight?” Joy asked, referring to the midnight-to-eight shift that Laura sometimes worked.

“Not too much. It’s never more than two nights a week. Edwin isn’t crazy about it, but it’s work.” Laura dried a plate and set it on the stack of plates on the table. With a laugh she added, “It is so much easier than the aviation plant.”

“I bet,” Joy said.

“And as it turns out, I like talking on the phone!”

They all laughed.

“Besides, I like the extra money. It will allow me to buy things I want for the house.”

They knew of Laura’s penchant for the newest appliance on the market, her most recent purchase being a brand-new washing machine. It had given Diana the idea to start squirreling her own money away to save up for something nice.

“I’ll finish up here. Go on and sit down,” Joy said when the last dish was washed. She wrung out the dish rag and began to wipe down the counters.

Diana followed Laura out of the kitchen. Laura took a seat next to Edwin at the table, but Diana kept walking, heading to the front porch. The air was humid, and the inside of the house was close. She pushed through the wooden screen door, holding on to it so it wouldn’t slam shut. She sat on the wide porch railing and reached for an empty ashtray. She pulled out her cigarette case from the pocket of her skirt but realized she’d forgotten her matches. Not wanting to go back inside to get a light, she remained seated, holding on to her unlit cigarette, one thigh perched on the railing, the other leg extended, foot on the floor. She smoothed out her skirt, admiring the colorful pattern of orange, red, and yellow. She’d made a headscarf to match.

Joy and Sam lived one township over from Lavender Bay, further inland. There was no beach here, but there were plenty of vineyards. It was one thing she looked forward to on the ride out with Laura and Edwin: the sight of the seemingly endless rows of grapes growing on both sides of the highway. It was beautiful in its own right. Even Sam and Joy had a small vine of grapes growing out back, as Sam liked to make his own wine. Diana had tried it and had liked it very much.

She’d sit out here until Laura and Edwin were ready to leave, she decided. It wouldn’t be long. Laura had mentioned something about the circus being in town, and she was going to take the girls as well as Sam and Joy’s kids.

The screen door opened, and Sam appeared carrying a can of lighter fluid. He leaned over the railing and refilled his Zippo.

“I must be smoking too much, I seem to be refilling this more often,” he said. When he was finished, he set the can down on the porch railing and nodded toward her cigarette.

“Can I light that for you?”

“Please and thank you,” she said, holding it out for him.

He lit her cigarette and then his own before snapping his lighter shut and shoving it into his pocket. He took a long drag and stood there, looking into the distance.

“It’s been a good summer,” he declared.

“It has,” Diana agreed. It had been perfect. Sunshine and heat during the day and little bits of rain, mostly overnight.

“Joy says you’re doing well with the sewing and mending,” he said.

“I am. The customers are starting to trickle in.”

He nodded and took another hit off his cigarette. “That’s how it starts. Once the word gets out, it isn’t long before the trickle becomes a gush.”

They were silent, but it wasn’t awkward by any means. Sam was one of the few people Diana felt totally at ease with since the accident.

“I want to say something, and I don’t want you to take it the wrong way,” he blustered, adding, “Joy says I’m always sticking my big nose where it doesn’t belong.”

Diana couldn’t help but laugh. But she didn’t say anything, waiting for him to continue.

“I’m glad you’ve found something you enjoy doing. You know Joy and Laura were worried sick about you after the accident.”

“I know,” she said quietly. She didn’t look at him, choosing to look at the house across the street with its rosebushes all lined up in front of it. She wondered if the scent carried over on the breeze.

“We’re all glad that you come here every Sunday for dinner. Hell, you could come over seven nights a week if you wanted. And we’re glad you’ve got your little business up and running.”

Diana still said nothing, letting him continue.

He rubbed the back of his head. “What am I trying to say here?”

“I don’t know, Sam.” She couldn’t keep the mirth out of her voice.

“Diana, the casualties of the war weren’t only on the battlefields. It was everywhere: men and women who were injured working in defense plants, sweethearts and mothers and fathers who lost their loved ones . . .”

He stopped talking, took another drag of his cigarette, and then stubbed the butt out in the ashtray before lighting up another one.

“If there’s one thing I learned from fighting in the war,” he continued, “it’s this: we’ve all been affected some way or another. Some worse than others.”

“I know, Sam.”

“I’ve seen enough death to last me a lifetime,” he continued, and his eyes took on a faraway look. “We only have this moment right now. We don’t know what’s going to happen tomorrow.”

“And?”

Now he looked at her, holding his cigarette between his thumb and forefinger, the ash on it lengthening. “Diana, you are a casualty of the war. Plain and simple. Just because you didn’t pick up a gun doesn’t mean that you aren’t a casualty. Despite this, you need to create a life for yourself.”

“What do you mean?”

He sighed, bringing up the cigarette and taking such a long drag that smoke drifted up into his eyes, causing him to squint. “You know me to be blunt, don’t you, after all this time?”

“I do.”

“What I mean to say is, you can’t hide out for the rest of your life in your house. It ain’t right.” He shook his head as if for emphasis.

Diana protested. “But I feel safe there.”

“I know you do,” he said. “But you can’t. You’re too young to hide yourself away. You’ve got your whole life ahead of you.”

She snorted. “Such as it is.”

There was a brief flash of anger behind his eyes. It would be the only time in their lives she’d ever see that from him.

“There are many men who came home in a box that would gladly trade places with you,” he said angrily.

Diana’s cheeks reddened, and she swallowed hard. “I’m sorry, Sam.”

He waved her apology away, the anger gone as quickly as it had appeared. “I’m not trying to make you feel bad, kid. But life is so precious. So, your life didn’t turn out the way you thought it would.” He shrugged. “Did I think I’d have to leave my wife and kids and go off to fight in a foreign land? Against the country of my parents’ birth? Not in my wildest dreams.” He paused and shook his head. “They were strange times.”

She swallowed hard. Basically, he was telling her to stop feeling sorry for herself and get on with it. Maybe she’d been mollycoddled too long by her mother and Laura and Joy. Maybe hiding out in her house was the path of least resistance.

“Look, Diana, I don’t know anything. I dropped out of school in the ninth grade. But the way I see it, you should take your focus off yourself and your injuries and look for the good in life. Because life is for the living.”

The screen door opened and Joy appeared, hands on her hips, still wearing her apron. “What’s this? The Yalta Conference?”

Diana laughed. “No, Sam is just giving me some sound advice.”

Laura and Edwin and all the kids had followed Joy out.

“Diana, are you ready?” Laura asked.

“I am.” She stubbed out her cigarette in the ashtray.

“It’ll be a tight squeeze with five kids, but we’ll manage,” Laura said.

Edna and Edith and the three Ruggiero kids jumped off the porch and headed to the car, opening doors, laughing and climbing in.

Laura stepped off the porch and called out, “Someone will have to sit up front!”

Diana stood and wiped off the back of her skirt, thanking Joy for the Sunday meal. She lingered for a moment. As she stepped off the porch, she turned and said, “Thanks, Sam.”

He smiled at her, the warmth and genuineness that he was noted for, back. “Don’t mention it, kid.”