ALL THE WAY
Chapter Twenty-Six

June, 1942

War raged in the rest of the world, but Jillian was quite content at the moment as she sat on a train bound for Santa Monica. Her mind was presently occupied with the novel Ethan Frome, a favorite of hers since she was a teenager. Thinking of home made her think of the book again and she found herself longing to read it once more, as she hadn't in years. Already she had finished another of Miss Wharton's novels and had decided that there was just enough time before they reached Santa Monica to dive into Frome.

Her timing could not have been more precise and as they pulled into the familiar station, she closed the last page and triumphantly threw the book into her oversized purse. Jillian knew better then to jump up and try to be the first one off the train, so she remained seated and watched others pass by. Once most of the crowd had cleared out, she grabbed her two bags she had with her--the rest were being shipped from New York in a few days--and her purse, and donned on her hat and gloves.

Stepping off the train was like stepping back in time. She had not been back since Michael's wedding three years before. The threat of and then the war had made travel difficult, not to mention she had been tied up at work and her grandmother had needed almost constant monitoring. Ruth had died the previous spring however and this opened up a new world for Jillian. She had gone to college in New York and stayed with her grandmother and then after graduating, continued to reside with her. Ruth's apartment had been closer to work, cheaper, and it was just nice to have someone around. Also, her busy schedule and lack of popular interests made finding friends or keeping a boyfriend hard, so Jillian eventually gave up on both tasks. But, since Ruth had died Jillian had found it much too expensive to live in New York by herself. And moving to a new, less up-scale neighborhood made things more difficult. This meant a longer, more expensive commute to work and cut more time out of her day. So when her boss told her of a new job opening in Santa Monica, Jillian immediately leaped at the chance. It was just easier to come back home.

No sooner had she started toward the street corner to catch a cab when she heard a familiar voice cut through the crowd. She whipped her head around and burst into a smile when she finally spotted Matthew running toward her. She hardly recognized him; he had gotten taller and more muscular and his hair was sun bleached more than it normally was.

"Hey!" he exclaimed happily, crashing into her and throwing his arms around her.

Jillian dropped her bags and hugged her old friend back. "Hello, Matthew," she said between her happy laughter. "What are you doing here?"

"I'm doing my part for the war," he said proudly, grinning like a nut.

"By hanging around the train station?" Jillian asked. She couldn't help but smile back at him as he shook his head.

"Nah, they won’t let me fight because I had that broken arm when I was fourteen--remember when I fell out of that goddamn tree--and then because I have a touch of asthma. So I signed up to help with the shipping and junk. I take boxes to and from the train station and carrier ships. It's all right; I get paid a good salary and I get to drive a car."

All of this was said in about one breath and Jillian couldn't help but burst out laughing when he was finished. He was still the same old Matthew she had left behind. And while she could tell he was disappointed about not being able to be a real solder, she was glad they had restricted him from going. His fascination with World War One and his hatred of the Nazis would be a dangerous combination. Undoubtedly, Matthew would see it as a chance to be a hero and do things he probably shouldn't. No, what he was doing was right for him.

"But what about you? I didn't even know about you coming into town." Matthew's questions broke through her thoughts and she turned her attention back toward him.

"I'm moving back," she explained, picking up her bags again. "New York was…just too complicated." She sighed and they started walking toward the corner again.

Matthew nodded as they walked, pretending to know what she meant. He guessed it had something to do with Ruth dying, but who knew. "I'm sorry about your grandmother."

Jillian smiled sadly. "Thanks. It was her time, though." She paused in her steps and looked at Matthew. "You know, this is really stupid, but I could have sworn my mother was almost relieved." She shrugged and then started walking again.

Matthew didn't know what to say to that, so he just stuck with the subject of Rose. "You're mom's been good to me. She makes me dinners and things…it's really swell, especially since Mom moved away. You get to miss the homemade dinners and family."

They had reached the curb and Jillian hailed a cab. "How's Gracie?" she asked, raising her hand in the air. Immediately a yellow and black taxi arrived in front of her. The driver just sat in his seat, not bothering to help, and Matthew shot him a nasty look as he began to help Jillian with her bags.

"You know, pretty good…very pregnant. I think she's missing Warren more then she's letting on." Matthew finished his sentence and then slammed the trunk closed. "You have enough money to get home?" he asked, dusting off his hands.

Jillian smiled at him again. It was so typical of Matthew--funny and childlike one moment and then a serious gentleman the next. She'd missed him more than she had realized. "Yes, thank you." She leaned in and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. "I'll see you later!" she called as he backed away from the curb and she got into the cab.

"Tonight actually," he yelled back. "Your mom invited me for dinner!"

Jillian nodded and then waved good-bye as the driver sped off. She watched Matthew fade away and then, after telling the driver where to go, she settled back against the seat. Familiar sights and haunts began to pass by her and by the time she got home, Jillian was wrapped in full nostalgia. Even the sight of her old front porch swing made her choked up and she paid the driver with shaking hands. The long pathway from the curb to the door seemed much shorter as Jillian walked up. Before she knew it, she had opened the door and stepped inside.

"Hello!" she called, dropping the bags onto the floor with a thud. The first living thing to acknowledge her was her mother's pug, which came running around the corner, panting heavily as pugs do. Mary's cat Henry, who Jillian had heard all about in letters from her sister, humorously followed the pug. Jillian reached down and picked up Ralph as she shooed the cat away and, leaving her bags, went further into the house. It was then that Mary came bounding down the stairs after which she skidded on the hardwood floor and almost knocked into Jillian.

"You're home!" she exclaimed excitedly. Fortunately, Ralph had jumped out of Jillian's arms because Mary then threw her arms around her sister.

Jillian laughed and hugged her back. She was in awe of how tall Mary had gotten and how mature looking she was. And her curly blonde hair had gotten so long! Last time she had seen her sister was three years ago when Mary had been nine and still a little girl. Now she was almost twelve and already starting to look like a woman.

"Where is everyone?" she asked breathlessly as Mary pulled away.

"Mom and Daddy are downstairs, going over bills and stuff," Mary said before wrinkling her nose. "And Danielle ran out to get more bread because we are out." All at once she started jumping up and down. "We got a letter from Luke today, he's in Europe now! But he can't say exactly where."

Jillian raised her eyebrows. Her brother, the daring military doctor, was now in Europe? It was the last thing she could see Luke doing and now he was out there, in much more danger then he had been in the United States. She could see Michael doing something like that, but not Luke.

"Did you see him when he was in New York?" Mary asked excitedly.

"Yes, just briefly," Jillian said absentmindedly. Luke, when she had seen him last, had no idea where he was going to be shipped to. But he had looked so handsome in his uniform and so much older then twenty-three, and the reality of it had not hit either of them. Now she was worried about him. He had been nervous before he left. There was no telling how shaken up he was now. To her, he was still her little brother, the boy who used to throw her things in the toilet and run around naked at will. She loved that guy.

"How's Michael?" she asked after a minute, attempting to draw the subject away from Luke and focus it on her other brother.

Mary shrugged. "He's okay, I guess. You probably talk to him more than I do."

Jillian had to admit that was probably true. Of all her siblings, she and Michael had the closest relationship. But she hadn't heard from her brother in several weeks and was hoping the rest of her family had. He and his wife Charlotte were now in Seattle, where Michael was working for Boeing.

"We're having a big dinner tonight, did you hear?" Mary started talking a mile a minute. "Oh, and Gracie and Matthew are coming, too. I made sure mom got stuff to make chicken with artichokes, because I know it's your favorite. It was hard. Mom got mad about wasting money and food allowances, but then I pointed out that you would love it and its just this one time. Oh, she and Dad are driving me crazy. It's not as fun without all of you here. They get on my case so much more. Danielle is even gone most of the time now. It's so boring!"

Jillian started laughing and put her arm around Mary's shoulders as they started into the kitchen. "Well, I'm back now, at least until I find an apartment. I'll teach you some of the evil ways of getting out of trouble. Michael and I practically invented the techniques."

Mary giggled. "It sounds good," she said happily, tugging away from her sister and sitting down at the table.

"Is that Jillian I hear?" came a new voice, one that Jillian recognized as that of her father. She heard him start to laugh and then heard his footsteps on the stairs. Before long he had arrived in the kitchen, a big warm smile on his face.

Jillian was initially shocked at how much three years had changed her father. His hair was showing more and more gray and he now had a scratchy beard. He had also put one some weight, which, she had to admit, wasn't a bad thing. Her father had always seemed, to her, just a little too skinny. But despite these things, when she hugged him, Jillian felt all that melt away. He was still Jack Dawson, her daddy.

"I missed you," he said happily as they pulled apart.

"Oh, me too," Jillian responded sincerely, smiling brightly. "It's been too long."

Jack nodded in agreement. "Yes, it has, my dear."

"I think you've been hanging around Mom too long--you're starting to sound like her!" Jillian teased before hugging him again. It was true though; her father never used to say things like my dear, and it was almost always yeah instead of yes. She had to laugh at the obvious change Rose was still having on him, even after being married for thirty years.

"Ah, your mother has taught me a lot of good things," Jack mused after the hug broke again.

"What have I done?" Rose was suddenly saying. Jillian spun around and saw her mother standing at the top of the stairs leading to the basement, her hands on her hips. She gave Jack a sly look and then moved toward Jillian.

"Darling, it's so good to see you," she whispered, hugging her daughter tight. "But you've gotten so thin! Jillian, you haven't been dieting, have you?" Her voice went from being warm and sweet to concerned in two sentences.

Jillian rolled her eyes. "No, Mother," she said in an exasperated tone, despite her smile.

Rose nodded approvingly. "Good, because you shouldn't. How was your trip, dear?"

Jillian couldn't resist starting to laugh. The way Rose was jumping from subject to subject was humorous. But then again, it was always like this when they saw each other after long absences.

"The trip went well," she was finally able to get out. "It was tedious sitting up on that train for six days, but it was worth saving the money."

Rose grinned at her and then turned to smile at Jack and then turned back to Jillian. "Well, you'll be able to get a good night’s rest and then tomorrow we can go look for an apartment for you. It will be fun. We can take Danielle and Mary and make a day of it."

"Are you trying to get rid of me?" Jillian asked slyly.

Jack came up behind her and laid and hand on her shoulder. "Not at all," he whispered. "Your mother has just had a little too much coffee, I believe." He then kissed her cheek. "You can stay as long as you want."

Jillian smiled brightly as she watched Rose start to busy herself around the kitchen after announcing it was time to start dinner. Mary made herself useful by sitting on the counter and pointing out where things were. And Jack sat down on the couch to read the rest of the paper. It was so normal; she loved it. It was exactly how she wanted her homecoming to be. Not a lot of sap, just normality.

*****

Dinner was served at seven o'clock promptly, as Rose had been insisting on for years. She sat across from Jack at the end of a long table, surrounded tonight by only three of their children and two of Jillian's closest friends. The mood was set with candlelight and wine, in celebration of Jillian's return. Rose caught Jack's eye once or twice and smiled secretively at him. Having one of their children back helped them keep their minds off of Luke, so far away, or Michael's absence.

"So, Jillian, when are we going to see you walk down that aisle?" Rose heard Grace ask, making her tear her gaze away from Jack and toward her daughter. She, too, was interested in the answer and had wanted to ask the question herself.

Jillian blushed as red as her hair and shrugged her shoulders. "I don't know. I don't even have a boyfriend. How can you ask me that?"

"Look at Mom," Danielle chimed in. The entire table turned their eyes toward Rose. "She's as anxious as any of us." Everyone started to laugh and Rose rolled her eyes.

"Can I help it if I want grandchildren before I get so old I can't walk anymore?"

Jack shook his head. "You're not old."

"Yes, but Mr. Dawson, by the time Mrs. Dawson was Jillian's age, she's already had three children. I think that's what Mrs. Dawson means," was Matthew's helpful contribution to the conversation.

Jillian set her fork down loudly and threw her hands up. "All right, all right, can we stop talking about me having babies? Go talk to Michael and Charlotte about it. They've been married for three years, not me."

Laughter once again erupted around the table and then the conversation turned away from Jillian and her babies, or rather lack of. She was happy to hear of Luke instead, as Rose read the latest letter aloud, and to get a chance to visit with Grace, who was eight months pregnant. They chatted like friends who hadn't seen each other in ages, which was essentially true. Matthew chimed in a few times, but mostly he just stuck to talking with Jack about the war. Danielle entertained them with stories of her student teaching job at the elementary school and even Mary provided some chuckles when she told everyone about trying to play baseball with a group of fifteen-year-old boys.

Dinner eventually wound down, leaving plates to be cleared and dishes to be washed. Jillian tried to help her mother, but she was shoed away with the promise that Danielle and Mary would do it. Grace left, claiming fatigue, and promised to come by when the rest of the Jillian's things arrived to help her unpack. And Jack and Matthew, each with a glass of brandy, settled into the sunroom that doubled as a library to talk. Jillian, seeing her opportunity to be alone, snuck outside and sat on her front porch, staring out across the familiar street at the unchanged houses.

Matthew had seen her go and, while he was talking to Jack, kept one door in his mind still open to her. When she didn't come in after a half hour, he excused himself and went into the hallway to where he could check on her from the window. Although he couldn't see her face or her body clearly, he watched as she swung slowly back and forth on the swing.

"She's all right."

Rose's voice startled him, as he had not heard her come up, and he spun around. She was standing behind him with her arms folded and a soft smile on her face.

"I think I may have overwhelmed her tonight," she mused, walking close to Matthew and stopping next to him. Without turning to look at him and keeping her gaze outside, she continued what she had to say. "You know, she probably would like some company. And I know she doesn't really want it to be me."

Matthew tilted his head to one side. "What?" he asked, perplexed at what Rose really meant.

She turned her head and looked at him. "Matthew, I've seen the way you look at her."

He looked down at the floor and shuffled his feet. "I-I don't know what you mean, Mrs. Dawson," he stammered.

Rose reached out and tilted his chin up with her hand. "I've known you both since the moment you were born. And you two are never as happy as you are when you get together. I'm not saying anything for Jillian, because I can't tell what she is thinking anymore. But Matthew…just go talk to her."

Matthew just stared at Rose and watched her smile gently. He knew what she was asking him to do. But he couldn't do that, could he? It was Jillian, his best friend in the whole world. He couldn't tell her how he really felt.

Finally, Rose broke the awkward moment by shrugging. "Danielle and Mary headed for bed already, and I think I am going to do the same. Good night, Matthew, and tell Jillian the same for me." She turned and walked toward the library, where Jack still was. Just before she opened the doors to go in, though, she paused and looked back over her shoulder. Smiling, she said, "Oh, and Matthew, don't call me Mrs. Dawson--I'm not your teacher."

He nodded in agreement and then, once she had disappeared into the library, turned his attention back to Jillian. She was still sitting out there, continuing her mindless rhythm of swinging that was about to make him dizzy. Sighing, he finally decided he best go out there and ask if she was really doing okay.

Opening the door, he poked his head out and smiled at her. "Room for one more?" he asked in a whisper.

Jillian looked over at him, startled, and it took her a second to realize it was he. When she did, she smiled and scooted over on the seat. "Sure, come here."

Matthew walked out into the porch, closing the door behind him, and crossed over to the swing. He sat down gently and helped her push off again so that they settled into the swinging again. It remained quiet for a while until Matthew finally broke the silence by asking, "So what's this new job like?"

"Well, it's not The Times, but they're giving me a pretty good starting position in the local section. Hopefully I can work my way up to National and cover the war." She paused and sighed heavily. "It's not what I really want to do though. I really want to write novels or something, not work at a newspaper."

Matthew nodded; he knew that. She'd talked forever about being an author, a real honest to God bestseller. That's why when saw her at the train station and heard about her coming home, he had been a little shocked. New York seemed like the best place for an aspiring author, aspiring anything really, to be. But, he had to admit, her reasons were just and he knew that New York was getting to her.

"Are you sure you're all right?" he asked after another silence fell over them.

Jillian turned toward him with a wistful smile on her face. "I'm okay," she assured him. "I'm so happy to be home and so glad to see everyone again. But when Mom, well, everyone started going on about me not having a boyfriend or babies, it just…dampened my sprits is all." She sighed again and leaned against the back of the swing. "I know that everyone else my age is either getting married or having babies or doing something for the war. I just try not to think about the fact that I'm not really a part of it, is all."

Slowly, she turned away and folded her arms in her chest. Matthew could tell she was trying not to cry and he moved closer to her, draping his arm around her shoulders. "You're a part of other things," he offered, trying to make her feel better.

"It's not just that, Matthew," she said hoarsely. "Because I want the husband and I want the babies. It’s frustrating knowing that those dreams are floating farther and farther away."

Gently, he kissed the top of her head. "Jill?"

"Yeah?" she asked in a mumble.

"Why don't you just marry me?"

Jillian started laughing, thinking it was a joke. "Oh Matthew," she said happily between laughs, "you're so sweet."

Matthew didn't laugh though and she soon picked up on his mood. Stopping abruptly, she turned to look at him again. He stared back at her with an unmoving gaze. "You're joking…right?" she asked, scared to know the answer. When he didn't say anything back, she felt her face turn white and her hands go icy cold. "Oh my God, Matthew, you're serious?"

He immediately jumped in to save himself. "All right, look, it's not that big of a deal."

"Not a big deal!" Jillian asked, or rather shouted, as she jumped up from the swing. "Matthew, you just asked me to marry you…to be your wife."

Matthew followed her by standing up. "Look, Jillian, it’s not that crazy." He started counting the reasons out on his hands. "We knew each other, we have fun together, you like me, I'm in love with you--"

"What?" Jillian stopped him in the middle of his sentence. "You what? You love me?" Her voice managed to raise about six octaves and by the time the last me had been said, Matthew was sure only dogs could hear her now.

He sighed heavily and took her gently by the shoulders. This was it, once he said these words they would never go back to being just friends again. "Yes, Jillian," he said sincerely. "I've been in love with you since…I don't know…since we were in third grade and Grace made us play that house game and you kissed me on the cheek." He stopped and when she didn't say anything, he kept talking. "When you left, I thought it would be good for me, I could try to get rid of it. But Jill, every girl I went out with wasn't you…and it drove me crazy that it wasn't. I missed you so much. And now you're back. It's perfect, don't you see?"

Jillian shied away from him and folded her arms across her stomach. She didn't say anything, only looked at him. This was Matthew, her best friend in the whole world. And he loved her? She'd had no idea. Tentatively, she looked him up and down, trying to get past the Matthew-her-friend part and see him as Matthew the guy who was in love with her. He wasn't bad looking and, like she'd noticed before, he had gotten taller and more muscular. And he was handsome, in sort of a boyish way. But it was still Matthew.

He must have sensed that she was having trouble sorting out her mind because he stepped closer to her and smiled softy. "Maybe we shouldn't get married, maybe that's not it. We could go out for a while, see how that works. But give me a chance, Jill. I know I can make you happy."

Jillian sighed as tears filled in her eyes. "I know you can, too, Matthew," she whispered. "I'm just worried that if it doesn't work out--"

"Who says it won’t?"

"Matthew…c'mon, be realistic here."

"You agreed to marry me once before," he pointed out.

Jillian threw up her hands and stomped away. "Matthew, we were sixteen!" she cried. "You asked me to be your backup and I said yes because I wanted security. I didn't think it would actually end in marriage. I wasn't in love with you anymore." She stopped and immediately regretted her last sentence. Now he would know! Oh my God, now he would know!

"You were in love with me?"

Looking around quickly, Jillian avoided his gaze. "N-no," she stammered. "Not exactly."

"What exactly then?"

She sighed heavily and managed to look at him. "I had this huge crush on you when I was fourteen and fifteen." She immediately looked down, unable to watch his reaction.

Matthew's mouth fell open and he stood gawking at her. "Why didn't you tell me?" he demanded when his mind finally cleared.

"You never told me!" Jillian threw back, catching him in his own question. "And besides, it wasn't important, until now. My feelings went away, Matthew…I think." She was confused now because she was beginning to see that she had always possessed some sort of attraction to Matthew. But that was true of any best friends, right? Not this kind of attraction, Jillian, her mind said.

He stood there for a moment and then approached her again. "Is there anyway you could feel like that again?" he asked softly.

Jillian looked up at him with wonder. His eyes were such a deep brown, she realized, a rich brown that you could lose yourself in. Could she bring herself to love him again? Could she really love him, the way her mother and father loved each other? They had set such a high, almost unattainable standard. She often had wondered if she would ever come close to that kind of love. But could she with Matthew?

"I don't know," she answered herself, and Matthew, out loud.

Before she could say anything else though, Matthew had closed the gap between them and suddenly his lips were on hers. It was foreign and Jillian was cold to it at first. But as suddenly as his lips had been there, she felt herself wanting more and pulled him closer. It was warm and almost familiar. She felt like she had wanted it all her life and it was now there. So when the kiss broke, Jillian felt her heart drop and she stood breathing heavily. But her mind was made up. She wanted to be kissed like that again, she wanted more.

Gently, she reached down and picked up his hand, threading her fingers through his own. He started to smile at her and she brightly smiled back.

"Is this a yes?" Matthew asked softly, leaning his forehead against hers.

"Can we have a long engagement?" Jillian asked back. It was what she wanted, she realized whole-heartedly, to be with him. But she, as well as others, needed time to get used to it. They couldn't just run off and get married.

Matthew nodded. "Anything you want," he promised and then he kissed her again.

Upstairs, unbeknownst to either Matthew or Jillian, Rose stood in her nightgown looking out of one of the bathroom windows. She broke into a smile when she saw Matthew kiss her daughter again. Finally! She had watched those two flirt back and forth for years. Matthew had always been in love with her. She saw that years ago. And Jillian had had a crush on him in junior high--that had been obvious when she began to talk about him all the time and got all flushed when he was around. It was a shame, though, that they hadn't realized this for themselves earlier. Or at least admitted it.

Still smiling, Rose left the bathroom and walked back to her bedroom. Jack was sleeping on his side of the bed so she quietly crept in, folded back the covers, and crawled in on her side. She sighed happily and grabbed Jack's free hand, kissing it softly so not to wake him. He made a noise, but remained asleep. For a second she wished they could be seventeen and twenty again and have the excitement of a new relationship. Slowly, she rolled her head to the side and looked at him. As usual, he was lying on his side facing her. Then again, she thought quickly, it was better the way they had it now. She knew Jack so well that it was almost scary. She could have predicted just now that he would be lying like that. He was probably dreaming, too, by the expression on his face. Rose smiled, she had watched him sleep so many times and it never got old.

She closed her eyes and heard Jack say something incoherent. Yep, she probably could have told you he would do something like that, too. Yawning quietly, she slowly drifted off into a content sleep.

Chapter Twenty-Seven
Stories