Her Mother’s Hope

envelopes and sigh heavily.

When Hildemara’s labor started, Bernie went for Mama. Rather than drive to town for Dr. Whiting, Mama came across the street to help deliver the baby. Hildemara was too far along to argue. She had already told Elizabeth what to do to get ready.

Mama leaned over Hildie, wiping sweat from her forehead. “You scream if you want to.”

Hildie knew Mama expected her to be worse than Elizabeth, who had screamed and sobbed and begged for the pain to stop. Hildie had been in hospital delivery rooms. She knew what to expect. She had no intention of making it worse for all those around her. She didn’t look at Mama or listen to anything she said. She concentrated on the course of her labor, enduring the pain in silence and bearing down when her body told her it was time.

“You have a son, Hildemara Rose.” Mama washed and swaddled him and placed him in her arms. “What are you going to call him?”

Exhausted, Hildie smiled into his perfect face. “Trip likes the name Charles.”

She wrote to Trip the next day.

Our son arrived on December 15. Charles Cale Arundel has very healthy lungs! Mama says she can hear him across the street. He and Eddie are going to make quite a pair…

She wrote every day, sometimes in a way to sound like Charles was writing the letter.

Daddy, come home soon. I can’t wait to meet you. You have to teach me how to play basketball and baseball…

Giving birth took more of her strength than she expected. Or maybe it was the night feedings that seemed to sap her of strength. Elizabeth had been up and around a few days after giving birth, but Hildemara felt so tired all the time. She feared relapsing with tuberculosis.

Mama came over every day. “Get some sleep. Let me hold my grandson.”

* * *

Dear Rosie,

Hildemara Rose has given me a second grandson. She has named him Charles Cale Arundel. She did well. No screaming or carrying on. The only time she shed a tear was when she held her newborn son in her arms. Then she cried a river of joyful tears.

I remember giving birth to Hildemara on the floor of the cabin in that frozen Manitoba wheatland. I cried! I think I cursed Niclas when he came home and found me. Poor man. I have never been easy on anyone, especially those I love most.

My girl did better than I, but I’m worried. Hildemara has not bounced back to good health the way Elizabeth did. She looks so pale and worn down. Nursing every two hours is exhausting, and I fear my girl may get sick again. I offer to help, but she gives me a look that sends me home. So I bring dinner sometimes, just to give these two girls rest.

Hildemara Rose and I get along, but there is a wall between us. I know I built it. I doubt she’s forgiven me for my harsh words at the sanatorium, and I will not apologize for them. I may have to prod her again. I’ll do whatever I must to keep her spirits up. Oh, but it hurts me so to do it. I wonder if she will ever understand me.

* * *

After spending almost a month in bed, Hildie began to regain her strength. Mama made a sling for her so she could carry Charlie around while doing chores. He rode happily, cradled safely against Hildie’s chest. When he grew too big to ride in the sling, Mama designed a backpack. When he began to crawl, Hildie and Elizabeth took turns watching their “little explorers.”

Bernie laughed as the two boys crawled around the house. “They need sunshine, but I think we’re going to have to cage them.”

The Allies pressed on. Battles raged in Germany and in the South Pacific. Hildie wondered if the war would ever end and Trip come home.

40

1944

The war finally began to turn in the Allies’ favor, and every day brought new hope as they listened to the radio.

Bernie started making plans. “We’re not staying in Murietta. When the war ends, the Musashis will come back. Everything will be ready for them, and we’ll look for our own place. I made good money off those trees I grafted. Lemon-orange-lime trees.” He laughed. “I’d like to start my own nursery, do some more grafting. Experiment a little and see what else I can come up with. I could do landscaping. Might be nice to live closer to Sacramento or San Jose or in sunny Southern California near all those movie stars Cloe writes about. They’d have money to spend.”

Hildemara didn’t know what to do. She had written to Trip every day and hadn’t received a letter in weeks. Every time a car came up the road, her heart lodged in her throat for fear it would stop and an Army officer would come to the door. Eddie Rinckel wasn’t the only hometown boy killed overseas. Tony Reboli had died on D-day. So had two of Mama’s Summer Bedlam boys, and Fritz had lost his leg when he stepped on a land mine on Guadalcanal.

Hildie knew Trip had survived D-day. By the time he reached Paris, he had become a captain. His letters, few and far between, were filled with words of love, what he remembered about their time together, how much he missed her. He didn’t write about the future.

The newspapers reported tens of thousands dying on battlefields in Europe, and previously unknown islands in the South Pacific. The prejudice got worse at home. Hildemara continued to go to church with Mama. She left Charlie at home with Bernie and Elizabeth, who had stopped going. Only a few people spoke to Hildemara, and only because they knew Trip served in the Army. Hardly anyone spoke to Mama. Old friends who had known them for years kept their distance, staring and whispering. Mama sat eyes straight ahead, listening to the sermon, Papa’s Bible open in her lap.

Hildemara was the one who got mad. After all the nice things Mama had done for people over the years, they turned on her now? “I thought they were our friends!”

“They were. They will be again, when the war is over. Assuming we win, of course. If we don’t, we’re all going to be in the same sinking boat.”

“Fair-weather friends, Mama. They’re not real friends.”

“They’re afraid. Fear makes people mean. Fear makes people act stupid.”

“Don’t make excuses for them!” Hildemara stared out the window, arms crossed over her chest, hurt and fuming.

Mama shrugged while driving. “When it’s all over, we won’t hold it against them.”

Hildemara turned in exasperation. “You won’t. I’m not going to have anything to do with those… those hypocrites!”

Mama’s face flamed. “Where do you get off judging, Hildemara Rose?” She turned sharply in to the drive. Hildemara bumped against the door. “Keep on as you are and you’re going to be just as mean-spirited and stupid as they are!” Mama slammed on the brake so hard Hildie had to grab the dash to keep from cracking her head on it.

“Mama! Are you trying to kill us?”

“Just shake a little sense into your head.” She shoved her door open and got out. “What do you suppose your father would say to you right now? Turn the other cheek! That’s what he’d say.”

Hildie jumped out and slammed her door. “I never thought I’d hear that come out of your mouth!”