Chad had some mystifying, incomprehensible hold on her that stripped away all logic, all reason. It was this quality of his that frightened her—his ability to leave her powerless, vulnerable. She’d never experienced anything like it with another man.
Not that she didn’t blame herself just as much for ceding control to him. When she talked to high school girls, didn’t she tell them that was exactly what they shouldn’t do? Some role model she was! She’d put herself in a situation she couldn’t handle, one she knew she couldn’t handle.
The only option, the only way to make sure this wouldn’t be repeated, was to tell Chad she never wanted to see him again. She’d written a note that made it clear once and for all.
Twelve
Mary Jo had dinner in the oven when she heard Mack’s truck pull into their shared driveway. Despite everything, her heart beat a little faster but she tried to ignore the way he made her feel. Falling in love could be dangerous, as she well knew, and she refused to put Noelle and herself at risk again. As much as possible, she ruthlessly shoved aside every bit of tenderness she felt for Mack. He made that difficult, however, and she’d started to weaken….
As he climbed out, she opened her front door and stood on the small porch.
“Hi,” she called. She couldn’t forget the kiss they’d exchanged when he’d found Joan’s diary. She tried not to think about it and yet it popped into her mind at the most inopportune times. Like now…
“Hi.” Mack walked over to where she stood. “Something smells good,” he said, attempting to look around her and into the kitchen.
“Is that a hint?” she asked, raising her eyebrows.
“Could be. What’s cookin’?”
“I call it Reuben casserole. Linc had me make it at least every other week.”
“What’s in it?”
“Sauerkraut and corned beef.”
“Sauerkraut.” Mack wrinkled his nose in distaste.
“You don’t like sauerkraut?”
“Not particularly, but if this is Linc’s favorite, then I’d be willing to give it a try.” His gaze held hers, and Mary Jo had the impression that even if she’d baked rocks he would’ve been happy to come for dinner. The thought made her feel light-headed. They’d kissed before, plenty of times. But the night he’d discovered the diary it’d been different, more intense…deeper. It was as though the barriers between them had vanished. Together they’d found a missing piece of the puzzle that intrigued them both. And perhaps a missing part of their puzzle, as well, a connecting piece that brought them together.
“You’re welcome to join us,” Mary Jo said, and had to admit she hoped he would.
“I’ll go clean up and be back in ten minutes,” he said.
Mary Jo watched him walk into his own place and then turned to look at her daughter, who sat in her baby seat, chewing on her tiny fist. Noelle was teething, which made her irritable and a bit feverish. “Mack’s coming for dinner,” she announced giddily. She’d fed Noelle earlier and the baby had fussed, not really interested. Mary Jo didn’t blame her.
The previous Sunday, Mack and Mary Jo had gone to the movies. It’d felt more like a real date than the other times they’d gone places together, perhaps because they were on their own, without Noelle to consider. Their relationship still seemed casual but was quickly gaining momentum. Noelle had stayed with Roy and Corrie; Corrie said she’d loved having her and seemed to mean it.
Mary Jo had set the table and placed the casserole in the middle, together with a green salad and fresh bread, by the time Mack returned.
“Dinner looks great,” he said, eyeing it appreciatively as they sat down.
She dished up the casserole and passed him the salad. “I’ve been reading Joan’s diary whenever I have a chance,” she said. Actually, she’d done little else during her free time since they’d found the book. She’d started with January 1, 1944, getting to know the intimate thoughts of this woman who’d become so important to her.
“Anything interesting so far?”
“It’s all interesting. She refers a lot to how she didn’t get along with her sister. Apparently Elaine wanted her to date Marvin’s brother Earl.”
“And Marvin is?”
“Oh, that’s Elaine’s husband.”
“Was Earl in the service?”
Mary Jo shrugged. “She doesn’t say. It’s sort of hard to follow because each entry is only three or four lines. Joan writes in this shorthand way. ‘Busy today,’ ‘no letter from Jacob,’ that kind of thing.”
“Can I see the diary when we’re finished eating?”
“Oh, sure.” They continued their meal, with Noelle—finally content—in her baby seat. Mack had obviously changed his views on sauerkraut, since he had two helpings. They cleared the table and Mary Jo made coffee, then retrieved the journal from her room. The night before, she’d read until the words had started to blur.
“Did you get to June 6, 1944?” he asked.
“No, just to the first part of May.” Perhaps because she was afraid of what she might learn or because she was so involved in Joan’s day-to-day life, Mary Jo hadn’t skipped ahead.
“I wonder if she mentions D-day,” he said, opening the clasp and flipping through the pages. “‘June 6, 1944. Did my washing. No mail from Jacob. Worked hard all day on troop transports.’”
“Troop transports? What does that mean?” Mary Jo asked.
Mack shook his head. “I don’t know.”
“What about June 7?” she asked, resisting the urge to read over his shoulder.
Mack turned the page. “‘No mail from Jacob. My heart is broken. Had to tack on 3. Got some 200 w lightbulbs. Wrote letters and emb.’” He looked up. “I see what you mean about the shorthand. I wonder why she’s talking about lightbulbs.”
“They were probably being rationed.” Mary Jo had only recently learned about ration books. “Did you know it was because of rations that the recipe for red velvet cake was developed?”