Chapter Five

Jack leaned beneath the hand hewn kitchen table in the middle of her old farmhouse to fetch a wicker basket. Though wearied from another long day of work at the factory, Jack had promised Corrie and the rest of her friends that she would join them for dinner and bring goods from her victory garden to share with the injured men in the hospital.

She whistled as she left her ramshackle wooden farmhouse, the roof sagging from years of disrepair, and made her way to the gargantuan garden she tended behind the house. The tomatoes were red and plump, hanging so heavily off of the vine that the tomato plants bowed under their weight. Ripe squash and zucchini curled in the rich russet dirt and the sprouts of carrots crested in a neat row. A handful of peach, pear, and apple trees formed a small grove at the far end of Jack's victory garden, and Jack resisted the urge to pluck a ripe pear and bite into it.

Setting her basket to the side, Jack hiked her dress to her knees and fetched her shovel, the blade rent in two by too many unfortunate collisions with rocks beneath the surface. Though Jack would much prefer picking her vegetables and creating a delicious stew, she knew this produce could be put to much better use at Dr. Benjamin's medical practice for the many hungry soldiers.

Julius Booker had one asked Jack why she was so dedicated to serving a country that continually despised and looked down upon women, and Jack had no ready answer. It was true that though women were the very core and foundation of the United States they were still denied many rights taken for granted by the male population. Women still were not allowed to vote in the elections, but Jack had to believe that if any country were to grant equality to women and minorities, it would be the United States. Julius, perhaps more acquainted with prejudice than herself, had scoffed and called her idealistic, but Jack could not help but believe that her country had hope and this war was justified. She would continue to support it and hope that someday she would be rewarded for her patriotism.

"Enough of that nonsense," Jack chided herself aloud, taking the shovel and planting her booted foot on the shoulder and shoving it into the dirt. "Potatoes, that's what I need right now."

Jack sunk the shovel into the dirt and dug until she found a hill of Yukon gold potatoes. She fell to her knees and sifted through the dirt to pick up the potatoes and slip them into her wicker basket. Then she picked a handful of carrots and ten zucchinis. Jack contented herself with knowing that this would be enough to provide a vegetable stew for at least a few of the soldiers.

Standing up, Jack dusted off the knees of her dress, now stained by mud, and frowned--she only owned a few dresses, and now this one would need to be washed before she wore it into town. For the sake of her niece's reputation, she would have to change. Jack fetched her jacket and made her way back to the house as a rooster crowed, sorely confused on the time. Jack glanced at the small henhouse that stood between her home and that of her neighbors, the Bookers, and decided she would pick eggs for the hospital later this week. It would give her an excuse to visit her friends again.

As she glanced at the eggs, she caught a glint of the sun against metal near the Bookers' home. To her dismay, she saw a shiny black Model T Ford parked next to their house. One hand on her hip and the other wrapped through the rung of her basket, Jack studied the car. Could it be the same one that had nearly run her over the day before? Though automobiles were growing in popularity, few members of Irvington had Model Ts as shiny and new as this one. Jack's curiosity about the Bookers' mysterious guest grew, but she forced herself to ignore the enigma for the moment as she was already late for dinner.

Back inside the house, Jack chose to simply throw an apron over the dirtied dress, hoping no one would notice the stains just beneath the hem of the apron. Even if they did notice, Jack reasoned, they would hardly be surprised. Corrie often assured her that Jack's antics only endeared her to her friends and family.

Basket slung over one arm, Jack abandoned her house with a slam of the door, half off of its hinges, and she climbed aboard her bike, pedaling furiously towards town. Due to Jack's eclectic reputation, she chose to live a little outside of town with the Bookers as her only neighbors. There were no other houses for a radius of almost a mile, and Jack was safe to run about in her knickers and talk to herself out of doors with no fear of observation. Julius and Minnie were already quite accustomed to her independent ways.

The ride to town typically took Jack twenty minutes, but she pedaled quickly and made it in less than fifteen though she could feel her face flaming red from the exertion. She jerked her bicycle to a stop outside of the medical practice and leaned it against the wall. In a small town like Irvington, Jack had no fear of thievery, especially when the sheriff was right inside the medical practice.

Jack swung open the door, the small cheery bell Corrie had installed dinging with her entry. The doctor's office was swamped with soldiers, cots even spread into the warm yellow entryway. A few of the men looked up at her, recognizing her with a friendly grin, but most eyed the basket of fresh produce she'd brought.

"Hello, anyone home?" Jack called, dodging the cots to find the stairs that led to the second floor of the practice, where Corrie and her husband as well as Hannah, the doctor's sister, resided.

"We're up here, Aunt Jack! Come on up!" called the fragile voice of Christina, Jack's younger niece.

Jack leapt up the stairs, taking them two at a time, and entered the dining room with a grin. "I'm sorry I'm late!"

"You're right on time," Corrie said, emerging from the kitchen carrying a large pot of vegetable stew. A plaid apron covered a pale, faded dress and her beautiful copper hair was tied up in a braid. "Please, have a seat."

"Christina, you're here!" Jack cried, throwing her arms around her youngest niece. The girl lived with Jack's sister, Anita, and her husband the mayor. "How goes it? Any word from David?"

The girl wrapped her wraithlike arms around Jack, her pale eyes glowing eerie and wide against her ivory skin. "I received a letter last week, and he's well though he wishes he were here."

"Of course he does," Jack said with a plucky grin, chucking Christina under the chin. "Who wouldn't rather be with you?"

Christina just laughed as Jack pulled out a chair beside her, sitting down to the oaken table. Across from her, Titus sat as well, his chair pressed against Hannah's, the doctor's sister. The two lovers huddled together in a private conversation, admiration etched clearly in their young faces.

"Titus, Hannah, you two look cozy," Jack teased, and Hannah looked up at her with heated cheeks and glinting dark eyes.

"Oh, Jack!" she exclaimed, "It's good to see you."

"I'm sure you're happy for more company," she said as both the doctor and Corrie emerged from the kitchen.

Dr. Alexander Benjamin himself also wore a plain apron, of the medical variety, and carried a bowl of steaming rolls from the kitchen. Dr. B. was a quiet, unassuming man with the same gentleness and forbearance so evident in Corrie herself. As he set the rolls on the table and removed his apron, Corrie followed likewise with a salad of fresh vegetables plucked from some other victory garden.

"Hello, Jack!" Dr. B. greeted her, shaking her hand. "Are we ready to eat?"

The strange family of friends clutched hands and Dr. B. offered a prayer for the meal, for the recovery of the men in the hospital, and for soldiers like David, still fighting and dying in France. Jack was reminded of the recent demise of Roy Hunt, and a stab of bitterness pierced her for a moment, but she blinked it away at the close of the prayer and focused on her family.

"I've brought you some fresh produce for the men," Jack said, gesturing to her discarded basket. "I saw a few ravenous eyes as I arrived who looked in need of some mashed potatoes."

Corrie smiled at her aunt. "I'll make sure to feed them well. Thank you, Jack. Rations are getting harder to harder to come by, and your victory garden is one of the best in Irvington."

As much as Jack wanted to accept the praise, she knew it wasn't true. Her garden was bountiful but unruly, and she struggled to keep the weeds in check. She hated to pick the colorful weedy flowers and instead she let the vegetables and weeds flourish in harmony, to the detriment of both.

"Travis was telling me just the other day how many men suffered from scurvy due to the lack of proper nutrition," Christina interjected between small bites of a steaming roll.

Dr. Benjamin suppressed a smile at the words, his merry blue eyes dancing. "On a first name basis, are we now, Christina?" he teased. It was no secret that half of the soldiers were in love with Christina, who often visited the men and read to them since she could do little else with her paralyzed leg.

Christina flushed, whether from indignation or embarrassment Jack couldn't tell. "I just come to read to them, Dr. B. You can hardly judge me for that."

"They aren't nearly so interested when I come to talk to them!" Jack exclaimed.

"Nor I!" Hannah interjected.

"That's because you only wish to talk of the war and their travels, which they often would sooner forget," Corrie teased. "Christina enchants them with romantic tales from her French novels."

Christina flushed but lifted her imperious chin. "Oh, stop with your teasing. I have nothing better to do with my time, and I can't stay at home all day."

"What news of the war?" Titus said, directing the conversation away from Christina's infirmity.

Hannah, who worked with Julius Booker at the newspaper, jumped in, anxious with news. "There's war on the Italian front, at the Piave river, and it's been going on for a number of days now. It's rumored that the Italians have the upper hand."

Jack listened as the rest of the group of friends questioned Hannah to learn more, but Jack had long grown tired of tales of the war. She was anxious for it to be over, and it seemed that no matter what happened, the war dragged ever on. She glanced beside her to Christina, whose wan face grew paler as talk of the war continued.

"Tell me," Jack said, interrupting the conversation suddenly. "How's my friend Private Buchanan? I plan to visit him before I leave. Is he recovering?"

Corrie and Dr. B. shared a quick glance and Jack balked--what she'd said to shift the conversation had brought some unwanted piece of news.

Dr. B. spoke, running a hand through his hair. "I'm afraid the heat and the damp air in the hospital from the summer have made his cough worse. I'm not concerned for his life, but he's not getting better as I hoped. He has a young son and a sister in Philadelphia to whom I wished him to return, but he may have to tarry here a while longer."

Jack recovered from her surprise and gave a quick smile. "Well, make sure he gets an extra serving of mashed potatoes. Potatoes always do a body good."

"I'll make sure of it," Corrie promised.

Dr. Benjamin stood up suddenly, his chair toppling backwards as the gawky man got to his feet. He withdrew an ancient pocket watch and glanced it.

"I'm afraid this is all the time I can spare from my duties," he said with a regretful smile to the company. Bags hung beneath his eyes and Jack marked his exhaustion. "There's too much to be done. I'm sorry, darling." He turned to Corrie and swept a kiss across her forehead, and Corrie blushed at the affectionate touch.

His hand lingered on her shoulder for a moment, but he gathered himself and pulled away. Jack watched the two with a smile--despite a broken engagement, open confrontation, and the harshest rumors, Corrie and Alex had overcome every obstacle and been married only a few months prior. Though Jack had seen few couples brought together by genuine love, she admired what her niece and the doctor had found together and occasionally, though she would rarely admit it to herself, Jack wondered if it was too late for her.

What do you think, is it too late for Jack? Thank you so much for reading this story, and I hope you're enjoying all of Jack's antics! I assure you she'll only get wilder as the story progresses. Stick around for the ride!