Betty stifled a groan. She couldn't remember when she'd eaten so much, but everything was so good, she couldn't resist. She'd really missed her mother's cooking since moving to Pittsburgh. Of course, she'd been taught all her mother's secrets while she was growing up, but the limited kitchens at the Barbican and her extremely limited time, didn't allow for much cooking on her own. There was hardly reason to cook so much for one person anyhow. Maybe some of that would change soon, she reflected with a smile as her glance slid to Scott who was seated in the chair beside her at the large dining room table. He returned her smile warmly and reached for her hand under the table, softly caressing her palm with his thumb.
He fit in well here, better than even she'd imagined he would. She knew his family wasn't very closely knit and that he'd felt that keenly over the last few months. The people at WENN filled part of that void and she was hoping the rest of it could be filled with her and her rambunctious family.
Fortunately, her family seemed as taken with him as he was with them. Even Ben, who seemed to feel it was his brotherly duty to disapprove of Scott, had been won over from his initial reticence through Scott's effortless charm. Eileen shot several telling looks at Betty across the table, telegraphing her overwhelming approval. Charlie in particular showed all the signs of burgeoning hero-worship as he pressed Scott to tell story after story of his world travels and Scott, the born storyteller, was only too happy to oblige.
Betty listened with amusement as Scott warned Charlie about the dangers of eating barnacles, the comment reminding her of the day she'd met Scott. If anyone had told her then, she wouldn't have believed in a million years that someday she'd be bringing Scott home to meet her family. But he'd changed so much since then, she realized. Or was it her who changed? Maybe they subtly influenced each other- that was the most likely possibility of all. Neither of them were exactly as they had been on that long ago first day; they had each changed in uncountable ways to make this moment possible. Whatever the catalyst had been, Betty was thankful for it- she couldn't imagine any other direction her life might have taken that would be more fulfilling.
"I can hardly wait to see more of the world!" Charlie was excitedly announcing now. "I'm at least going to Europe and maybe even Asia."
"You have at least two more years of college, young man, before you take a trip around the world," his mother reminded him with a smile.
"But, Mom, we'll be at war long before then and I'm enlisting as soon as that happens. My whole class is going overseas to kill the Germans."
"Charles," Mary warned him in a shocked whisper as a strained silence fell over the table. The hand that had been so sweetly caressing Betty's a moment earlier suddenly hardened, grasping hers as if it were a lifeline.
"That's enough," James told him severely. "War and killing is nothing to be excited about. I know what I'm talking about-- I saw more than my share of combat in the Great War and as soon as you boys were old enough, I told you about the realities of war so you would know the truth, too. I educated you so that if the time ever came when you had to make such a decision, you wouldn't go into it with blinders on, so you would know the wastefulness and futility that often come with war, even one waged in the name of freedom. If you choose not to believe me, I'm sure Scott is as able as I to tell you the realities of war from his experiences in other parts of the world. God keep you from ever having to see what we've seen. I pray that our leaders will find a way to keep us out of the conflict, but if they don't, you'll do your duty-- after you've finished school."
"But, everyone I know will have already gone. I'll be left behind-" Charlie protested.
"We'll hear no more about it at this table. This is a holiday and we're rarely together as a family as it is. I'll not have the day spoiled by talk of war," James sighed heavily, then his glance fell on Scott. "You look like a man who knows his way around a Chinese Checkerboard. Why don't we have a game after dinner?"
With considerable effort, Scott erased the frown from his expression while Betty looked on anxiously, concerned by his reaction to the conversation. He loosened his grip on her hand with a slightly apologetic look before answering her father with some semblance of his usual self. "I've been known to play a game or two. Actually, I've been wanting to ask you about some of the tricks Betty says she learned from you..."
Betty lost the rest of the conversation as an icy finger of fear trailed chillingly down her spine and she realized with overwhelming certainty that the immediate future may not be as clear as she imagined.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
The autumn's early dusk approached rapidly with a blaze of fiery reds and oranges on the distant horizon as Scott and Betty strolled hand in hand across the yard. They'd both felt the need for some exercise after the uncharacteristically large meal and felt the dropping temperature outdoors a small price to pay for a few quiet moments alone. Betty hadn't been able to dismiss the fear that had gripped her at the end of the meal, though the intensity had lessened in the intervening hour. The urgency to know his feelings was still there, however, and she sensed a tension in him, lying just below the surface of his holiday mood. She searched for a tactful way to bring up the subject which most concerned her, but the way remained elusive. They continued in silence, each occupied with their own thoughts, until she decided that being direct was her only option.
"Scott," she began, but her voice sounded too tentative even to her own ears. She drew a deep breath.
Scott stopped and turned to face her, concern darkening his eyes. "What is it?" he asked softly.
She shook her head slightly, unable to quite meet his eyes. "I'm not sure how to say this..."
Scott took her chin gently in his hand, lifting her gaze to meet his. "Just say it. You know you can trust me. Bet you never thought you'd believe me when I said that," he grinned disarmingly.
A smile ghosted across her face and just as quickly disappeared. "It's just that when Charlie was talking about the war you might not have said anything, but I could tell you were bothered by it. Scott, I need to know. If we go to war, what will you do?"
Scott felt as if a fist was clenching his heart. Although he'd already made his decision, he wasn't prepared to discuss it with Betty yet. Part of him knew it was ridiculous to delay the inevitable; he'd have to talk with her about it sometime. But another part of him struggled against it, wanting in some way to hold off the swirling forces that moved beyond his control, keeping things as they were for as long as possible. He put her off for now, knowing there would come a time when the situation would become unavoidable and that that time had not yet arrived.
"How 'bout those Pittsburgh Pirates?" he joked.
When her only response was, "They haven't played in at least three months," and a pleading look, he quickly sobered.
"Betty, I think we're going to be at war very soon and when that happens, there won't be time to talk or think about much of anything else. Your father's right. Let's not talk about it tonight while we can still avoid it for a little while."
Betty nodded her understanding, but couldn't repress the shiver that leapt down her body. Misinterpreting her, Scott drew her into the protective circle of his arm. "C'mon, let's go inside before you freeze to death." She smiled up at him and allowed him to lead her towards the house, but her heart was heavy. By not answering her question, Scott told her everything she needed to know.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
The following morning, dawn crept slowly over the horizon, gray and misty. The inhabitants of the Roberts household were up and about early to say good-bye to Betty and Scott who had to make the long journey home. Mary had been cooking since long before dawn, determined to send them on their way with a full breakfast and plenty of food for the road. Betty protested at the size of the basket Mary had prepared for them, saying they could never possibly eat it all. Mary won in the end, insisting that Scott would perish if he had to drive all that way on an empty stomach again.
They all sat down to a comfortable breakfast in the warm, cozy kitchen amidst chatter and jokes before following Scott and Betty out into the gray dawn. Mary and James schemed to pull Scott to one side for a moment.
"When are you going to do it?" hissed Mary.
"At Christmas. Here, if you don't mind," Scott suggested with a questioning look.
Mary clapped her hands in eager anticipation. "Oh, how wonderful!"
"Christmas is special to us. You couldn't give us a more perfect gift," James added. "Take care of her; we've always worried about her in the city. Now that I know you, it doesn't seem so bad."
"I appreciate your trust, James," Scott told him as the two men warmly shook hands. "Thank you."
Mary took Scott's face in both her hands. "I do like you, Scott Sherwood, and I'll miss you until you come back." She pulled his face down to place a motherly kiss on his cheek, causing him to grin. Mothers didn't usually react so well to him. "Drive safely, now."
"I will," he quietly assured her.
Betty approached then for a last hug from both her parents. The couple departed, the remainder of the family standing on the porch waving and calling out good-byes.
Betty turned to look at Scott in the driver's seat. "We'll be back at Christmas, won't we?" she asked.
"Of course," he spoke confidently, but he couldn't shake the feeling that it would be a very long time before he saw any of Betty's family again.
Far From Pittsburgh
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