She's Up to No Good(42)

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE


November 1950


Hereford, Massachusetts


Evelyn’s entire body hummed with excitement as the train rumbled along the track toward Hereford Station. In the nearly three months since she had left for school, she had seen Tony only four times, when he could both take the car and have enough time to see her, factoring in a two-and-a-half-hour round trip. And while it was heavenly to go out in public with him, to a restaurant and a movie, and then walk through town arm in arm after a summer of sneaking around, time was always far too short. Especially because he was working nights at the docks while he trained with the police department, and he was tired.

But now, at Thanksgiving, which was one of the only holidays they celebrated in common, his training was finally finished. And as of two weeks earlier, he was officially on the payroll of the Hereford Police Department—which, having been founded in the late 1600s, had a long and storied history. Or so he said in his letters. Evelyn’s interest in town history prior to her own arrival was scant at best.

Which meant that Saturday night, once the sun set, he was hers.

The intervening days of knowing they were only a mile apart yet she couldn’t see him were torturous, but Evelyn still savored being home with her family. The house was crowded, and she was forced out of her room and into a bed shared with Margaret (poor Vivie consigned to a pallet on the floor of her own room) because Gertie and her husband slept in her room, their baby in a dresser drawer. But there was a sense of normalcy in the chaos. Sam was back in his room that he shared through childhood with Bernie, who now lived in town with his wife and children, where he put up Helen, her husband, and her rowdy brood of children for the holiday, as the Main Street house had finally reached its limit and could not contain another fully formed family.

Sam picked Evelyn up at the station, lifting her in a large bear hug and swinging her around as she squealed to be put down. He had returned the day before and was charged with ferrying people from the train station as they arrived.

“How’s college treating my favorite sister?”

She smiled. He told all of them they were his favorite. “I’m enjoying it.”

He glanced sideways at her. “Oh yeah? How much?”

Evelyn laughed. “Not that much. I’m a good girl, after all.”

“Yeah. And I hear I might be named the next pope.” He was rewarded with a jab to the ribs.

“How sad—I suppose that means you won’t be getting married, then. Unless you plan to have a lot of ‘nephews’ like the old popes did.”

“Which one of our sisters has the big mouth?”

“Margaret. Tell me who she is.”

Sam sighed. “Louise. You’ll meet her Wednesday. I’ve already met her parents.”

“Is it official, then?”

He shook his head. “I spoke with her father, and I have a ring. I haven’t asked her yet.”

“What are you waiting for?”

“The right time, you heathen. You can’t just do it in a car like you’re asking where to go to eat.”

Evelyn scowled, then rearranged her face. It wouldn’t do for Sam to know. He might be her favorite brother, but he couldn’t keep a secret to save his life—as evidenced by having already told Margaret—and probably the rest of their siblings—about Louise.

Thankfully, he was too focused on the drive to notice her expression. “And what about you? You got a fella yet?”

“Maybe.”

“Is he Jewish? Or you gonna get yourself in trouble again?”

This time she let him see the scowl. “Did it ever occur to you that we’re living in the twentieth century and the whole idea of only marrying people like us is ridiculous and old-fashioned?”

He shook his head. “No, I can’t say that it did. Especially not after what I saw in Europe at the end. There are about six million fewer of us than there used to be.”

There was no way to argue once that point came out. But she could always fudge the truth a little. Besides, she had met a Jewish man, even if she wasn’t interested in Fred. “Don’t you worry.” She patted Sam’s arm. “Papa will approve.”

He glanced at her again, and she wondered briefly if Bernie had told Sam about his talk with Tony. But then he changed the subject back to Louise, and Evelyn exhaled. Sam had the biggest mouth in the world. Bernie wouldn’t tell him. And as long as Miriam didn’t pry it out of Vivie, her secret was safe.

Of course, by bedtime, Margaret and Gertie were peppering her with questions about who the new boy was. Sam, Evelyn thought, shaking her head.

“Where does he go to school?” Margaret asked.

“How did you meet him?”

“Is he Jewish?”

Evelyn looked at her sisters appraisingly. This was new territory; Evelyn had never been treated as one of the big girls before. She glanced down at Vivie, who sat cross-legged on her floor pallet, a pillow hugged to her chest. At not-quite seventeen, Vivie was now the last of the little girls. Evelyn wondered if that would change when she went off to college or whether it would always be the case; Margaret was graduating this year, and Vivie would always be a full step behind everyone except Evelyn.

With the new terrain, however, also came the question of whether she could trust them. Historically, that hadn’t been wise. But a broken plate or a trip to the movies on Shabbat were in a whole different league from the secret she was carrying now.