Read Online Sentimental Journey (Home Front - Book #1) by Barbara Bretton - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Barbara Bretton
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here don’t get any mail at all. I almost felt embarrassed to be so lucky. (But don’t stop writing!)
I’m glad you and the girls are writing to Johnny. He’s a little rough around the edges but he’s a damned good kid and a real friend. He has a lot going for him, but his temper keeps getting him in hot water. Nancy’s Christmas poem made him laugh and I swear he only takes Cathy’s green scarf off to shower. I suppose you saw that crazy-quilt-blue one she made for him after Christmas? The guys laughed so hard, they cried. There must have been every shade of blue in the rainbow in that scarf. Nobody laughed harder than Johnny. Don’t tell Cathy that the green scarf is glued to him. He’ d probably be embarrassed if he realized I’d even noticed. Somehow I don’t think anybody’s ever knitted a scarf for him before. Or done much else for him, either, if you want to know the truth. I don’t know what it is about that kid that gets to me—maybe he reminds me of myself at his age. (Was I really that pigheaded, Doro? You always used to tell me that my head was harder than an iron skillet!)
Have you gone down to the bank yet to talk to Paul? I told you before I left that I wanted to make sure you and the girls would be provided for. I know you don’t want to hear it, but it’s important. Paul has the papers. He will explain everything. If you love me, Doro, you’ll take care of this.
Lately I’ve been thinking a lot about home. When I first came here I worried about the business and all the fellows whose jobs would be affected by my decision to enlist. I knew you and the girls could cope with anything life threw your way. You’re a strong woman and you’ve raised strong daughters and I don’t deserve any of the credit for the way they’ve turned out. The credit belongs to you.
If Nancy finds herself a job out in Suffolk County, maybe we should let her stretch her wings. Write or call Anna and tell her our little girl may be heading in their direction. I know she and Frank will make certain Nancy is taken care of in fine fashion.
You haven’t changed anything in the house, have you? When we march, I pretend I’m walking through the house and I can see each room exactly the way it was when I left. Those chintz covers on the divan that we fought about—remember I said they looked too fussy and frilly? I can see you sitting in the wing chair by the window with your head bent over your sewing and your hair drifting across your cheek.
Don’t worry if you don’t hear from me for a while. I think we’ll be moving camp again in the next few days. Where we’re headed is anybody’s guess. I keep thinking that sooner or later something has to happen, but the days and the weeks pass and still nothing. Sometimes I think this war will never end.
All my love,
Tom
GREETINGS!
Yes, it’s that time of year again!
This small postcard is a reminder that it’s time to plan your Victory Garden for 1944. Our boys at the front need our support once more. Don’t use canned foods that can help provide nourishment for our soldiers and sailors. Plant your garden today and harvest your vegetables tomorrow. Remember: do your share for Victory now!
F. LANGELLA & SON NURSERY
March 21, 1944
Dear Johnny,
I guess it’s just one of those nights. It’s a little after midnight and for the life of me I can’t seem to fall asleep. Maybe it’s the weather. Today is the first day of spring, but instead of the promise of warmth, it is raw and cold and more than likely ready to snow.
Today I thought I saw Douglas. I had worked late and was coming up the subway steps a little after eight when it happened. A cold nasty sleet was coming down and I was struggling with my packages and trying to put up my umbrella. I wasn’t watching where I was going and I stumbled on the top steps, and the next thing I knew a man was helping me up from the puddle where I was sitting. He asked me if I was okay and I looked up at him and just for
I’m glad you and the girls are writing to Johnny. He’s a little rough around the edges but he’s a damned good kid and a real friend. He has a lot going for him, but his temper keeps getting him in hot water. Nancy’s Christmas poem made him laugh and I swear he only takes Cathy’s green scarf off to shower. I suppose you saw that crazy-quilt-blue one she made for him after Christmas? The guys laughed so hard, they cried. There must have been every shade of blue in the rainbow in that scarf. Nobody laughed harder than Johnny. Don’t tell Cathy that the green scarf is glued to him. He’ d probably be embarrassed if he realized I’d even noticed. Somehow I don’t think anybody’s ever knitted a scarf for him before. Or done much else for him, either, if you want to know the truth. I don’t know what it is about that kid that gets to me—maybe he reminds me of myself at his age. (Was I really that pigheaded, Doro? You always used to tell me that my head was harder than an iron skillet!)
Have you gone down to the bank yet to talk to Paul? I told you before I left that I wanted to make sure you and the girls would be provided for. I know you don’t want to hear it, but it’s important. Paul has the papers. He will explain everything. If you love me, Doro, you’ll take care of this.
Lately I’ve been thinking a lot about home. When I first came here I worried about the business and all the fellows whose jobs would be affected by my decision to enlist. I knew you and the girls could cope with anything life threw your way. You’re a strong woman and you’ve raised strong daughters and I don’t deserve any of the credit for the way they’ve turned out. The credit belongs to you.
If Nancy finds herself a job out in Suffolk County, maybe we should let her stretch her wings. Write or call Anna and tell her our little girl may be heading in their direction. I know she and Frank will make certain Nancy is taken care of in fine fashion.
You haven’t changed anything in the house, have you? When we march, I pretend I’m walking through the house and I can see each room exactly the way it was when I left. Those chintz covers on the divan that we fought about—remember I said they looked too fussy and frilly? I can see you sitting in the wing chair by the window with your head bent over your sewing and your hair drifting across your cheek.
Don’t worry if you don’t hear from me for a while. I think we’ll be moving camp again in the next few days. Where we’re headed is anybody’s guess. I keep thinking that sooner or later something has to happen, but the days and the weeks pass and still nothing. Sometimes I think this war will never end.
All my love,
Tom
GREETINGS!
Yes, it’s that time of year again!
This small postcard is a reminder that it’s time to plan your Victory Garden for 1944. Our boys at the front need our support once more. Don’t use canned foods that can help provide nourishment for our soldiers and sailors. Plant your garden today and harvest your vegetables tomorrow. Remember: do your share for Victory now!
F. LANGELLA & SON NURSERY
March 21, 1944
Dear Johnny,
I guess it’s just one of those nights. It’s a little after midnight and for the life of me I can’t seem to fall asleep. Maybe it’s the weather. Today is the first day of spring, but instead of the promise of warmth, it is raw and cold and more than likely ready to snow.
Today I thought I saw Douglas. I had worked late and was coming up the subway steps a little after eight when it happened. A cold nasty sleet was coming down and I was struggling with my packages and trying to put up my umbrella. I wasn’t watching where I was going and I stumbled on the top steps, and the next thing I knew a man was helping me up from the puddle where I was sitting. He asked me if I was okay and I looked up at him and just for
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