When Tomorrow Comes Read online

  “You never said—”

  “Of course we didn’t. We didn’t want to frighten you. But it’s a part of life for a Mountie.”

  “Does Henry. . . ?”

  “If he has made enemies. Yes.”

  “But that’s not fair.”

  “Life is never fair. The best one can hope for is to be given a chance.”

  Christine had much to ponder. It was the first time Elizabeth had really opened her heart to Christine—not simply as her daughter but now as a friend. In the past she had always been the protector. The guardian. Now she had exposed herself as vulnerable. Needy. Human. Christine was not sure how to respond.

  She had one more question she had to ask. “Was . . . was Dad afraid?”

  “Afraid? Sensibly so. Cautious. He worried at times that something might happen to him, and I’d—we’d be stranded with no way to get out of the North. No place to go. We talked of it. He . . . he kept a little stash of money—not much, but a little. He . . . he said if ever anything happened, I was to use it to find us a small house in some safe town. He said—”

  But Christine did not wish to hear more. It was too much. All the morbid thoughts on such a brilliant day. She shivered and stopped her mother. “Look. There are tracks all across that field. Deer must have been playing tag or something.”

  Elizabeth chuckled. “We missed it,” she lamented.

  The spell was broken. Christine leaned her head back against the high seat and closed her eyes. Her emotions were still in turmoil. So much . . . so much had gone on in her family that she had been totally unaware of. So many battles fought and won—or lost. So many struggles with inner or outer conflicts. As a child she had assumed that grown-ups had everything neatly figured out. That they were in charge of their world. That there was nothing that troubled their sleep or caused them alarm. Now was she being told that there was never a place in the world free of worry or challenge? That was not what Christine was hoping to hear right now.

  Both Jon and Mary met them at the Calgary station. “I just couldn’t bear to wait at home,” Mary exclaimed as she hugged first one, then the other. “It’s been such a long time.”

  “Oh, it’s so good to see you,” responded Elizabeth, tears in her eyes. “I think of you all so often. And the children. How are the children?”

  “Well,” laughed Jonathan, “the children have children of their own now, as you know. They are quite adult. Quite, shall we say, independent—for which their mother and I are dreadfully thankful.”

  They all laughed.

  “Oh, I want to see them. Each of them,” enthused Elizabeth.

  “And you shall. They are all coming to dinner tonight. Well, all, that is, except William. He and his family haven’t been home since a year ago June. He took them all off to Winnipeg. Can’t imagine it. But William loves it. He’s an attorney, you know.”

  “Yes,” murmured Elizabeth. “And a good one, too, I’m sure.”

  “Well, let’s get you loaded up and off to our home,” said Jonathan, lifting the two heavy suitcases. “We’ve plenty of time to talk in the comfort of the living room.”

  “I think the city has grown again,” mused Elizabeth as she gazed out the car window.

  “Grown. Growing. Every time you turn around, a new building is going up.” Jonathan seemed very pleased and proud of his city.

  “It’s growing too fast, if you ask me,” cut in Mary. “We can’t keep up with things.”

  “We’ll catch up,” Jonathan replied comfortably.

  Christine could not help but compare Calgary to the Edmonton she knew. It was true that Calgary was growing quickly. She noted several new buildings since the time she had spent with her uncle Jon and aunt Mary while taking her secretarial course. But if she had to choose in which of the two cities she would make her home, she was not sure which one it would be. They were very different—in both appearance and feel.

  “You’ve changed the color of your house,” Elizabeth exclaimed as they pulled up into the driveway.

  “It was time for a change. It had the same blue-green trim for over thirty years.”

  “I liked it,” said Elizabeth and quickly caught herself. “This looks nice too. Such a nice fresh color.”

  “It’s very popular right now,” spoke up Mary. “I suppose, like everything else, it will need something new in the future. It no doubt will soon be dated. But for now . . .” She shrugged. “You know what they say, ‘The only thing constant is change.’ Or something like that.”

  Except in the North, thought Christine. In the North things have stayed the same for generation after generation. And they will go on staying the same. That’s what I like about the North. Well, at least, that’s one thing I like.

  They shed their wraps and were shown to their rooms, then invited to the drawing room for a refreshing cup of tea and newly baked scones. There was no flickering fire in the fireplace.

  “We really don’t need it now, because the central heating’s so effective,” practical Mary explained. “We only light it if we feel sentimental. This is so much less messy.”

  But Christine missed the dancing of the flames and the crackle of burning logs. Central heating could not fill that need.

  “So our Henry is getting married,” Mary noted. “Wonderful. He stopped in and introduced us to his bride-to-be. She seems so sweet. And that little boy. Isn’t he a darling? You must be thrilled, Elizabeth.”

  The talk swirled around Christine. It was clear the two women had much to talk about and were set to enjoy hours and hours of each other’s company. Should she sit and listen or set her empty cup aside with a smile and retreat to her room? Or perhaps she could excuse herself with the need for some exercise. But she felt content. Lazy. At length she squirmed herself into a comfortable position in the overstuffed easy chair and settled down to enjoy the rise and fall of the familiar voices.

  Dinner that evening was a rather boisterous affair. The table was crowded with family. Two high chairs and their tiny occupants pushed their way in between parents at either end of the table. The baby girl had been named Elizabeth in honor of her great-aunt, a fact that Elizabeth cooed and gushed over. The little boy, two months younger than his cousin, was named Matthew. He had large brown eyes and heavy lashes. Christine was sure she had never seen a prettier baby. Other little ones sat on stacked phone books or small orange crates placed on dining room chairs. The older two—seven and ten years old— were able to sit in adult-sized chairs. The boy was a little saucy but the girl quite sedate and grown-up in manner. Christine remembered them from her time spent in the city, but they had changed considerably over the years since she had left. They either did not remember her well or pretended they did not. At any rate, they responded only politely to her overtures.

  The talk swirled around the table like incoming breakers, punctuated frequently by splashes of laughter. It was enough to make one feel dizzy. Elizabeth seemed to revel in it. Christine realized for the first time just how much her mother must have missed contact with family. No wonder her father had suggested she come early to store up once again.

  At the thought of her father, Christine felt a twinge. Already she missed him. How was he faring all alone? Certainly he had no cause to go hungry with all the food her mother had left for him. Was he lonely? Did he miss the stir of his wife in the kitchen? The conversation before the open fire of an evening?

  Perhaps he enjoys a few quiet moments to sort through his own thoughts, concluded Christine. We all need quiet times now and then.

  But we all need communication as well, her silent soliloquy continued. I would have never guessed that Mother felt some of the things she shared today. In the future, I must be more . . . more open, more prepared to listen. To sense her needs.

  It was certainly something new to think about.

  CHAPTER

  Five

  The next days passed pleasantly with much activity—some of it fun and some relating to wedding preparations. Actually, t
hat was fun, too, Christine decided. Then the day arrived when Henry would come to Calgary and bring Christine back for the days leading up to his wedding. Her new suit was carefully folded in tissue and packed for the journey. She finally had chosen material of a soft navy, having come to the conclusion that the red serge of the Force was not an easy color to complement.

  But she was pleased with the pattern they had found and most satisfied with her mother’s skilled seamstress ability. The suit looked good on her. Even she could appreciate that fact. She did hope Amber would be equally happy with it.

  One fact had dampened her visit to the bustling city. Everywhere she turned it seemed she saw young people in full uniform. Never had she imagined that so many of her country’s youth were willing to go off to war. They seemed to swarm over the city, calling jovially from each street corner, congregating at bus stops, laughing and jostling at lunchroom counters.

  “You’d think it was some adventurous lark, instead of a war that needs fighting,” Christine heard one disgruntled matron exclaim to another. And it was true. The young men and women seemed to be celebrating rather than preparing for a dangerous undertaking that could cost them their lives. Perhaps they did have more sober moments when the enormity of what was at stake accosted them, but they appeared very careful not to let it show. Maybe that’s why, Christine wondered. They’re trying to keep their spirits up to face what is ahead.

  The Sunday service had been another reminder. One of the young lads from the local congregation had just left for overseas. Serious, fervent prayer was offered up on behalf of the family who remained at home, forced to wait—and pray—hoping for his safe return.

  “There are so many needs,” the pastor informed them. “Not just overseas, but here at home as well. You ask how you might be involved? Seek ways. Look around you. There are hand projects. Gloves, socks, and toques are needed. Even sweaters can be knit and sent. You can make up CARE packages. Little bits of home for the young men and women over there.

  “And the local clubs need help. Faith Church has started a drop-in center for the servicemen. We can help out. They serve coffee and cake and give the boys—and the young women, we have young women going too—a chance to gather and play games or just talk.

  “And many of the businesses need employees. So many young men have gone that it is up to the womenfolk to take their places here on the home front. We need to keep our country productive if the war effort is to be successful. See what you can do to help—and prayerfully get involved.”

  Christine had not considered the involvement needed at home. But it was true. There was much to be done here at home as well. Her prayers began to change from that time on. “Lord, show me how you want me to be involved. Don’t let me jump in with my own plans. Show me, Lord.”

  Reminders. Everywhere were reminders. From signs asking the populace to buy war bonds, to posted lists in local papers, to news of advancing or retreating forces on each night’s news- cast, to uniformed youth on each city street. Every place Christine went she was confronted with the fact that Canada was at war.

  At the sound of a car pulling up in the driveway, Christine hurried to answer the door. Elizabeth was right behind her.

  Henry was unfolding his long legs from the car’s interior. Christine was glad to see he was alone. She was looking forward to having him all to herself for one last time and hoped it was not selfishness on her part.

  He walked toward them, heavy overcoat flapping in the afternoon wind, broad grin lighting his face. “Well, look at this. Two of my favorite women.”

  “Yes,” Christine laughed. “We’re glad we’re still on your list!”

  Elizabeth pushed past Christine to claim him first. She lifted her arms to pull him down so she could plant a kiss on his cheek. “How were the roads?” she asked as soon as he straightened.

  “Fine. A few little drifts here and there—but nothing major. I had no trouble at all getting through.”

  She patted his cheek and backed away so Christine might also embrace Henry.

  “Ready?” Henry asked.

  “Everything is right here at the door,” she informed him.

  “Good.”

  “You’re coming in, aren’t you?” asked Elizabeth in alarm. Surely he wasn’t going to turn right around and head back was her unspoken meaning.

  “For a few minutes. Not long. We need to get going before the roads—”

  “I thought you said they were fine.” Elizabeth held the door for Henry to enter.

  “They were okay—but a wind is starting to come up. The roads can drift in quickly if it starts to blow.”

  Elizabeth frowned. “Perhaps you should get started, then.”

  Her voice revealed her reluctance. She hated to let them go.

  Henry must have sensed her discomfort and changed course. He removed the heavy overcoat and hung it in the closet. “Thought Aunt Mary might have one of her good cups of coffee ready.”

  “She has just rushed to the phone to call Jonathan. He said to let him know the minute you arrived. He’s coming right home.”

  “Oh, he shouldn’t do that. I can’t stay long.”

  “He said a little break will do him good.”

  Henry nodded. “So how has your time in the city been?” he asked.

  “Delightful,” exclaimed Elizabeth. “I’ve soaked in the tub every night.”

  Henry laughed loudly. “You come to the bustling city of Calgary and sit in the tub?” But his teasing elicited no response from his mother except a little wave of her hand at him.

  “And you?” He turned to Christine. “Did you get a chance at the tub?”

  “Well, I haven’t spent as much time in there as Mother, but yes, I’ve had my turn.”

  When Mary burst through the door, Henry rose to greet her. “Your uncle Jon will be right home. It only takes him a minute. My—I think you get taller every time I see you. I have to stand on tiptoe just to reach for a hug.”

  Henry wrapped long arms about his aunt and gave her a warm embrace. “It’s awfully good to see you, Aunt Mary.”

  “I have enjoyed Christine so much. We’ve had such fun together. And I’m so glad to have this special time with your mother. We’ve had so much to talk about. I just wish there weren’t so many miles separating us. It really doesn’t seem fair that our country is so big. Now sit. I’ve got Lucy bringing the coffee. I know you’ll be in a hurry to get back before dark. Wish we could keep you here for a few days, but I know that’s impossible.

  “How are Amber and Danny?” Mary rushed on. “Is she getting new-bride’s nerves yet? It’s getting awfully close, isn’t it? Are things going smoothly with the plans? I’d love to help. Wish I was closer. I said to Jon that I’d just love to bake the wedding cake or help with the decorations. Does Amber like that sort of thing? Maybe she doesn’t even need help. She certainly looks like she has things together. What about Danny? Is he excited about having a new daddy?”

  Henry hardly knew which question to answer, so he merely nodded his head and let his aunt keep talking.

  Mary eventually stopped abruptly when Lucy arrived with a tray bearing a steaming coffeepot and a number of cups. The tray also held a plate of beef sandwiches and a lemon sponge cake.

  “I thought you might be a bit hungry after your long drive. I don’t want you to go away without something in your stomachs.”

  “It looks and smells delicious, Aunt Mary.”

  “We’ll not wait for Jonathan. He never eats between meals. He’ll just want coffee.” And the sandwiches were passed first to Henry and then to Christine.

  “You’d better eat up,” Henry warned her. “Who knows when you’ll get the chance again? Not many restaurants between here and my place. And not much in my cupboards either.”

  Christine followed his advice. They were still enjoying the repast when Jonathan arrived. After hearty greetings, he accepted the cup of black coffee from his wife and settled into the chair next to Henry.

 
For the next few moments it was man-talk that flowed in the parlor. Christine noted Henry’s eyes lifting to the face of the grandfather clock now and then. The hands were busily ticking away the minutes, and Christine knew Henry was anxious about the time. She decided to aid him in the matter.

  “I’ll just get my wraps from the bedroom and join you in the hall.”

  He nodded, his eyes thanking her for her understanding.

  There was the usual flurry of last-minute cautions and embraces. And then they were in the car and moving off through the city streets toward the open highway. Henry looked intent on getting out of the city and onto the highway, so it was several minutes before either of them spoke.

  “How has your visit been?” asked Henry finally.

  “Good. We bought the material and Mother did a great job of sewing the suit.”

  “Mother always does.”

  Christine nodded. “I hope Amber likes our choice.”

  “Amber will love it.”

  “Oh, so we speak for her now, do we?” teased Christine.

  Henry grinned. “You know what Scripture says. ‘They shall become one.’ ”

  “But you’re not one yet.”

  “No—not yet. It seems every day drags just a little bit more. I never knew time could pass so slowly,” Henry groaned.

  Christine knew he was teasing, but she couldn’t keep from casting him a sideways glance. “So you haven’t had second thoughts?”

  “Every day I am more convinced.”

  She nodded. “That’s good.”

  “What about you?” he asked after a moment’s silence.

  “Have you had any second thoughts?”

  “About Boyd, you mean? No. No second thoughts. It was the only thing I could do. But . . . but I do worry at times. I wonder. If . . . if I had held to my Christian standards, could I have done more to introduce him to Christ? He’s in the air force, you know. I sometimes think how awful it would be if his plane was shot down—with him not having made peace with God.”