Remember WENN and its characters are copyright Rupert Holmes, Howard Meltzer Prods and AMC. Madra Lord is copyright Mel Odom and Ashton-Drake Galleries, Any original characters are copyright Michele Savage.
This is the first of a two part series of stories. Baby Singer 12 will be part two of this story. Think 2 part episode. :-) Enjoy.. and feedback is a beautiful thing. Please offer it. :-)
Dreams Come True, Part 1: Baby Singer #11
By Michele Savage
October 7th, 1944
Gertie looked up as the man literally swooped into the station. He wore what she assumed was a rather expensive suit, a trench coat draped over his shoulders and a Fedora tilted ever so slightly; which he removed as he saw her.
"Hello, madam," he said in a rumbling British accent, "is there by chance a Hilary Booth here?"
"And you are?" Gertie asked, not exactly feeling comfortable with the stranger.
"Who am I?" He repeated with an insulted sniff, "I'm Alberto Johnson de Norse," he supplied as if she should have already known.
Gertie nodded, humoring the man and said, "Could you wait right here?"
Hilary looked up as she heard a rambunctious giggle from the floor in front of her. She smiled as Alexander bent over and was looking at her from between his legs. He was balanced on his head and hands and laughing.
"Mommy!" Alexander called.
Hilary tilted over slightly to see his face, "Are you trying to see the world through your daddy's eyes?" She stood and picked him up by the hips so he was still upside-down. She lifted the tot slightly and tickled his exposed stomach with her nose, causing the one year old to cackle hysterically.
Hilary walked to the green room table where Bethie was eating and set Alex on his hands. She let him "walk" to a flat position and laid him on the table. As she pulled his shirt down, she turned to the sound of the door opening.
"Hilary, there is an odd man out there asking for you." Gertie informed her.
"Odd, hmm?" Hilary wondered, "why do I always attract the odd ones?"
"Ale-e-ex!!" Bethie suddenly yelled, "that's MY Skbgetti! Mama!"
Hilary turned to see Alexander had grabbed a handful of spaghetti from Bethie's plate and was stuffing it all into his mouth. "Alex," She pulled him away from his sister's smacking hand, "let Bethie eat." He whined as she picked him up and set him against her shoulder. "You just ate, little birthday boy."
The baby giggled and decided to try to feed his mother the rest of his handful of noodles.
"Why thank you, Alexander," Hilary smiled as she wiped his hand and her mouth off, then leaned against his nose and whispered, "but Mommy's not hungry either," causing him to laugh heartily again.
"Could you stay with Bethie?" Hilary asked Gertie who nodded. "Ok, she said to the boy she held, "Let's go see who it is, shall we my little escort?"
"Ya!" the dark-haired tot nodded approvingly.
Hilary walked to the lobby with Alexander on her hip. She was surprised to see who was waiting. "Well, fancy meeting you here."
Alberto dramatically reached for her, "Hilary, my darl- what is THAT?" He stopped abruptly and pointed distastefully at Alexander.
"This?" Hilary pointed to the boy in her arms, "this is a child. More specifically," she whispered conspiratorially, "my child."
"God, Hilary," the curly-black haired man over-dramatically replied, "they've domesticated you. You've something on your nose."
She swiped her finger across the tip of her nose where Alberto had pointed. She recognized it and stuck her finger in her mouth, "tastes like 'skbghetti'." Hilary said with a humored lift of her brow and a grin. Then, as he rolled his eyes and sighed dramatically, motioned for the man to follow her.
Gertie left the green room as they entered and Hilary thanked the woman as she walked past. She sat Alexander on the floor and turned to the man who'd followed her. She noticed with a smirk that he was staring at Bethie.
"Tell me that isn't yours too," he questioned with an irritated point.
"Yes! SHE is." Hilary stated emphatically, "Albert."
"Alberto." He corrected.
"Albert, what is it you want?" She finally asked, "I know you didn't come all the way to Pittsburgh from wherever it is you are now selling your wares to insult my children"
"I'm in Hollywood now," he replied, "and if you don't mind, "it's Alberto."
"Hollywood, eh?" Hilary repeated, unimpressed. "What perchance are you doing out there?"
"Directing!" He said proudly, "I finally got off the bleeding road touring circuit and into the real studios."
Hilary glanced at the table and saw that Bethie was playing in her food more than eating it. "Bethie, are you finished?"
"Yes mama, I finished." the little girl answered.
"I'm finished," Hilary corrected. She turned to Alberto and sincerely replied, "Congratulations."
Hilary wet a washcloth in the sink and wiped the spaghetti sauce off her daughter's face. "What does that have to do with me?" She asked as she moved to wash off the dirty dish.
"Can I get down now, Mama?" Bethie asked.
"Yes, sweetie, you can."
"Thank you." She said and scooted off the chair. She walked in front of Alberto and looked up at him. "Hello my name Bethie Booth Singer, who are you?"
Alberto gave Hilary a questioning glance.
She laughed, "You can talk to her; she won't bite. Alexander is the one who bites."
Alberto glanced warily at the tot on the floor who was looking at him with a smile.
Embarrassed that he'd gotten attention suddenly, Alexander crawled to his mother and hid behind her leg, peeking at the stranger. He stood, still uneasily, and his vision was blocked by the bottom of Hilary's skirt. He whined and angrily swiped the dark blue material aside. "Up!"
Hilary bent and picked up the baby. "Bethie, "That's Albert Johnson. An old, um, acquaintance of mama's," she supplied when he didn't.
"Acquaintance?" Alberto asked with surprise, "Hilary you wound me."
She walked closer to him, "Albert, we were only married for twelve hours. You are an acquaintance."
He smiled, "Yes, but it was a lovely twelve hours. And it's Alberto now, please."
"Hmm," Hilary muttered, "you have a very different definition of 'lovely' than I do." She put Alexander in the playpen and sat on the couch, patting the empty seat next to her for Bethie to sit. "You haven't answered my question, Alberto. Why are you here?"
He sat on the opposite end of the couch, "I told you that I was in Hollywood now. I'm working with Warner Brothers, producing and directing a new movie of theirs." He pulled a script from inside his coat and showed it to her, "Hilary darling, I'm casting this movie and in reading the script, I could only think of one person to play my lead." He dramatically presented the script to her, "You, my darling are Margaret Steele."
Flabbergasted, she took the script, "Albert I... I don't know what to say." She flipped through the fairly thick script for the movie entitled, "Margaret Steele".
"Please, read that for me, Hilary, and let me know. I'll be in Pittsburgh for the next," Alberto sniffed distastefully, "week. I would love to be able to take my leading actress back with me."
"But I, I have my work. My children." She replied.
"Your husband couldn't stay with the little ones long enough for you to do this?" Alberto asked.
Hilary started to speak, but Bethie interrupted her, "My daddy's at the war."
"Jeffrey's somewhere in France right now. He's covering the fighting for WENN." Hilary explained.
"I didn't know, I'm sorry. How long has he been gone?" Albert asked honestly.
Hilary gave a weak ironic smile, "One year," she pointed to Alexander, "and nine months."
Alberto lay a hand over hers and responded, "You could bring the children with you. My estate is large enough for you three to stay there."
"What makes you assume I'm staying with you, IF I go?" Hilary asked, pulling her hand away from his.
"It's just an offer, Hilary, the house is large enough you probably won't see me."
"I don't know, Albert." She answered, "Let me read this script and get back to you." She set the script on the coffee table, "I hesitate leaving here because this is where Jeffrey knows how to get in touch with me; if need be."
Albert stood, "I'll leave you to read that and drop by in another couple days for your decision." He swept out of the room, leaving the door to swing back and forth behind him.
Bethie turned to her mother, "Mama, I don't think I like him."
Hilary smiled, "That's all right, Little Pumpkin, I only liked him for about nine hours."
Maple charged into the green room eyeing the couch as if it were an altar. "Oh, please," she begged Hilary, "Lemme have the couch, I need the couch."
Hilary stood as Maple collapsed onto the plush red velvet, "Maple when is the last time you've slept?"
"Sleep?" the exhausted red head mumbled, "go away so I can get some."
"All right," Hilary said quietly. She set Bethie down and told her to see if she could help her Aunt Betty with something. As the little girl left the room, Hilary bent to pick up Alexander. "Let's leave Aunt Sleepy-head alone."
She carried him to the writers room when she saw that Gertie was busy. "Betty, Maple just commandeered the green room, could I leave Alexander with you too while I do Valiant Journey?"
"Oh, sure Hilary. He can help me type tomorrow's script." Betty answered, reaching for him.
"Thanks." Hilary handed the child to Betty.
"I'm writing Daddy." Bethie supplied from the desk opposite Betty. She plucked jovially at the small keys on the child's typewriter that she'd gotten from Betty for Christmas.
Hilary walked behind her and noticed that she was tapping out random letters and spaces, "Hmm, maybe we can translate that before you mail it."
She leaned her hands on the back of Bethie's chair and asked, "Betty, is Maple all right?"
"She's working herself crazy." Betty answered, "Did you know she started working the graveyard shift at one of the weapons factories?" Betty waved an arm widely, "All this and still doing evenings at the canteen!"
"No, I didn't know this." Hilary thought for a second, "give her a couple days off from here. I'll cover for her, Heaven knows she's done plenty for me."
"Are you sure?" Betty asked, surprise registering in her voice.
Hilary smiled and stood straight, "I'll whine and complain a little, just so she doesn't think I've lost my mind completely."
The smaller woman laughed, "I'll send her home as soon as she wakes up. We'll let her have the rest of the week off."
"Sounds fine." Hilary walked out of the room with a "be good" to her children and entered the studio to start her next program.
Early that evening, everyone crowded into the green room for a small birthday party for Alexander. Mackie had announced an hour of music, so they could all help celebrate.
Hilary made sure that plenty of pictures were taken to send to Jeff. She smiled as Alex opened a small stuffed Mickey Mouse from Eugenia and Mr. Foley. He grinned widely and hugged the toy tightly.
"I think he loves it." She said to Mr. Foley who smiled and nodded.
Mr. Foley took the camera from Hilary and motioned for her to get into the picture. He waited until she could gather the two kids together for some good family photos, then snapped the pictures.
While everyone was gathered, Hilary decided she wanted to have a recent group shot taken. She thought Jeff would like to see a good picture of his friends. Grace had volunteered to take the picture as she still didn't quite yet feel a part of the 'family'.
Jeff leaned back on his haunches and looked at his handiwork so far. He glanced at Tom who was in the hole and still digging on the two man dugout. "My hands are cold. I'm going to take a breather for a few seconds."
"Okay." Tom said as he climbed out of the dugout and sat on the edge. He took a deep breath and looked at the silent empty blue sky. "Kinda hard to believe on a day like this that we're in the middle of Hell."
"I know," Jeff agreed. "How long do you think this lull will last?"
"It can last forever as far as I'm concerned," Tom snorted.
Jeff quickly turned as he heard someone walking up behind them, but relaxed when he saw it was the Captain. "Hey, Cap."
Captain Garrison crouched and handed both men a set of papers. "Here, have a good week."
Jeff read the document and looked at Tom, then the Captain. "Leave?"
"We've got the manpower and we've got the breathing room to let the unit take a week's leave two soldiers at a time." The captain explained, "God knows we need the R&R."
"Paris," Tom exclaimed happily when he saw the destination, "Wine, women and song!" He stood and pulled Jeff to his feet. "Come-on, Shorty. Let's go take a fast jeep to heaven!"
Jeff laughed, turned and grabbed his duffle bag. He handed Tom his own belongings and the two men were on their way.
Oct 9th, 1944
Hilary lay in bed and listened to the stillness of the house. She could hear the tiny breaths of the dog curled at her feet. She rolled facing the empty side of the bed and reached an arm across the wide space. "I miss you, Jeffrey."
She shook off the melancholy feeling and sat, bunching both pillows behind her. The clock on the nightstand read 3 am. Insomnia is no fun when you are alone. She groaned, flipped on the lamp nearest her and picked up the script again. The more she read, the more she liked this movie. But should she do it?
Hilary heard a small sniffle and looked toward the doorway. Bethie stood at the edge of the room clutching her stuffed horse and rubbing her eye. Hilary set the script on the nightstand and opened her arms, "Come here, baby."
Bethie rushed toward the bed, "Can't sleep, Mama."
Hilary smiled softly and patted the mattress next to her, "You know, Mama can't sleep either." She snuggled the little girl beneath the covers and into her arms, "how about we 'can't sleep' together."
Bethie smiled up at her mother and pointed at the nightstand. "You reading story?"
Hilary smiled and reached over the child to pick up the large script, "This is a movie that Mr. Johnson wants Mama to be in."
A brief look of panic flitted across the little girl's face, "are you going away, too," she whispered.
Hilary hugged her daughter assuringly, "No, Little Pumpkin, if I go you and your brother are coming with me."
Bethie sat and smiled broadly, "Can Alex stay here?"
"No," Hilary matched the smile, "you're stuck with him."
Bethie suddenly overly dramatically threw herself back against the pillow, "Oh, fiddleedee"
Hilary laughed and sat, "No, no, you have to make it more believable. Like this," she draped herself across the pillow, grandly arcing her arm over her head as if swooning, "Oh, fiddle-deedee" she said in an imitation of Vivian Leigh.
Bethie imitated her mother and plopped her head hard onto Hilary's stomach, knocking the wind out of her.
Hilary took a deep breath grabbed Bethie and rolled tickling her, "that was very good, Scarlet, but your brother is still coming."
"Phooey," the little girl chuckled and stuck her tongue out.
"Oh, go to sleep, my little drama queen." Hilary told Bethie with a smile as she tucked the little girl in tightly and kissed her goodnight. She rolled and turned off the light, then snuggled tightly with the child comforted with the fact that no matter how lonely she felt, she wasn't alone.
"Mama," Bethie's quiet sleepy voice broke the dark silence.
"Hmm?"
"When will the war be over?"
Hilary hugged her daughter," "I don't know, sweetie. Soon I hope."
"I miss Daddy," the little girl whispered.
"I do too, Little Pumpkin."
Oct 10th, 1944
Jeff sat in the small broadcast studio and looked over his notes. He'd pestered the Occupational Commander for any time in a studio to make some broadcasts. The man finally relented, just to get Jeff off his back. Jeff allowed the man to have full control over his final script before going on air. It was a small price to be able to really do his job again.
Tom had teased him mercilessly. "Aww, Shorty, you're no fun! You're on leave! That means no work, all play." Jeff had just humored the man and told him he'd meet him for supper. Instead Tom took it upon himself to stand in front of Jeff and try his level best to make him laugh while on the air.
Hilary was in mid-dialogue when Maple burst into the studio waving broadly to get her attention. Eugenia quickly stepped up to the mic to take her place as Hilary followed Maple out to the hall to see what was the matter. Her first worry was that one of the children had been hurt. "What--"
"Jeff's on the radio! On the short-wave from Paris!" Maple said quickly.
Hilary rushed through the doors in the green room and saw Gertie sitting in the chair next to the radio. She walked to the edge of the couch closest to the radio and plucked the baby off Gertie's lap. She glanced around the room, "Where's Bethie?" She looked at Maple, "she's probably with Betty."
"I'll go get her." Maple rushed out of the room.
Hilary turned her attention back to the radio and listened to her husband's voice from halfway around the world. She hugged Alexander's head to her cheek, "That's what your daddy sounds like, sweetie. That's your daddy."
"Daddy?" Alex asked as he pointed to the radio.
Hilary nodded and sat, "let's listen to him."
"He sounds good." Gertie said softly after a moment's silence.
Hilary smiled wanly, "he sounds homesick."
Bethie charged into the doors and ran to the middle of the room. When she caught her father's voice, she stopped in her tracks. "Daddy," she whispered as tears formed in her eyes. She walked toward the radio as if it were an altar. The closer she drew to the sound, the more she silently cried. She reached the radio and leaned her hands against the wood; sank slowly to her knees and quietly sobbed, "I miss you, Daddy."
Hilary leaned forward and lay an assuring hand on Bethie's head and tried to fight the lump in her throat at the little girl's reaction.
Alberto walked through the green room door having let himself in when no one was at reception. He started to announce his presence, when the somberness of the room's occupants silenced him. They were listening very intently to a radio broadcast. He noticed Hilary seated very close to the radio and her daughter clutching at it as if it held a lifeline. He surmised the voice emanating from the it must be Hilary's husband. As he watched he realized that there would be no way Hilary would leave this place for Hollywood. He'd been a fool to try. He thought of just sneaking out now before he was seen, but decided to stay and let her tell him to go.
"....before I go, I want to thank Commander Winston for giving me the chance to be on the air speaking to you, and in the off chance that my family is hearing this; I love you all. This is Jeff Singer, from Paris. Goodnight and God bless."
"I love you, Daddy." Bethie said as the radio was switched off. She looked at her mother, "Daddy's ok."
Hilary hugged Bethie tightly around the little boy she held on her lap. "Yes, sweetie, he's ok." Hilary glanced up and only then noticed Alberto standing near the doors.
"Um, I hope I'm not intruding," he stammered uncharacteristically.
Hilary stood and wiped her eyes, "I'm sorry. No, you aren't. That was...the first time Bethie has heard her father's voice -live- since he left. Was the first time I'd heard him broadcast since he went overseas."
"I understand. I could come back later." Alberto offered.
"Oh, no. That's all right." Hilary set Alexander into the playpen and straightened, "I needed to speak with you anyway."
"You've read the script?"
Hilary nodded. "You're absolutely sure you want me to do this?"
"Darling, to me you're the best there is. There is no one else I *can* see doing this movie." Alberto replied honestly.
"I will have to have certain concessions." She explained, "my children come with me. They've never had strangers looking after them and I won't start now."
"Do you mean on the set?" Alberto asked.
"Yes." Hilary clarified, "Elizabeth is well aware that "on the air" means silence, and Alexander is a very quiet and content baby. Just give him a play pen, some toys and he's happy for hours."
"For you, it will be done. Anything else?"
"Outside of legal stuff, I don't think so." Hilary replied. "I want my billing to read, Hilary Booth Singer."
"Does this mean you'll do it?"
Hilary smiled. "Oh, what the hell."
Oct 11, 1944
Hilary sat at the green room table opposite Alberto and flipped through the script she was holding. "Is it possible to have a tiny detail changed?" she asked.
"What detail?" the man asked with concern.
"Well, Margaret's youngest daughter dies of pneumonia in the first half of the script." Hilary smiled wanly, "I'd rather not live through that again, even if it is in a script."
Alberto took the script from Hilary and looked it over with consternation. "But, I'd have to hire a child actor for longer than the two weeks I had intended."
Bethie walked into the green room, "Mama, Gramma wants you."
"Okay, dear." Hilary told the child. Turning her attention back to Alberto, "I'll be right back. Please consider that." She pointed to the script, "it isn't so major a change that can't be done."
As her mother left the room, Bethie climbed onto the chair that Hilary had just been sitting in. She regarded Alberto warily. "Mama don't like you."
Alberto laughed, "I am well aware of that young lady." He leaned and tapped Bethie on the nose earning a sparkling smile and laugh from her.
Hilary walked down to reception assuming the "gramma" in question was Gertie and not Eugenia as the latter was currently on the air. "Did you need something, Gertie?"
"Oh, yes. This box came for you about ten minutes ago," Gertie gestured toward the floor next to her, "please get it out of my sight before my curiosity gets the better of me."
Hilary chuckled and walked behind the desk. When she saw the large square box she whistled, "my that's awfully big. I wonder who it's--" she stopped when she saw the return address. The Estate of Katherine Mullholland.
"You okay, Hilary? You look like you've seen a ghost." Gertie asked when Hilary crouched slowly to retrieve the box. "I can have one of the fella's carry that for you. It's heavy."
"No. It's fine. I'm fine." Hilary answered. "It's just that I didn't expect this." Hilary lifted the box as best she could, said thank you to the woman as she made her way down the hall and into the writer's room.
"Betty," Hilary asked as she set the box down, "would you mind if I kept this in here and out of the way until I leave this evening?"
"Oh sure," Betty responded. "What is it?"
"Just some things from an old friend." Hilary scooted the box beneath a desk to clear the walking path in the small cluttered room. "Thank you, Betty."
"No problem," Betty told her as she resumed her typing.
Hilary walked back into the green room and smiled at the sight of Bethie and Alberto deep in conversation about something over an opened script. "She's a little young for you, Alberto."
He looked up and laughed sarcastically, "you know dear," he said to Bethie, "I believe you're right. Your mother does hate me."
"From the moment I married you." Hilary took her chair back, moving Bethie to her lap. "Now where were we? Ah, yes. You were reworking the script for me."
"I'll see what can be done. In the mean time, I'm going back to Los Angeles on this evening's train. I'll have the proper paperwork drawn up and sent to you." Alberto explained. "Once you've signed and returned it, we can get rolling. I want to start filming near the end of November."
"All right," Hilary agreed. "Don't forget the concessions I asked for and we'll see you next month."
"My birfday's in next month." Bethie chimed in, "I be this many!" she said holding up two fingers on one hand and one on the other.
"Well, good for you!" Alberto said with feigned enthusiasm. "Hilary, I'll take my leave now. Phone me if you have any problems."
Hilary saw him to the front door. With her mind on what could be in the box, she finished the rest of her work day.
That night, once the children were asleep, Hilary sat in the den with a glass of wine and finally opened the box. Laying atop a wide piece of cardboard used to cover and protect the contents were two envelopes. Hilary opened the one that looked as though it had come from a lawyer.
Dear Mrs. Singer,
The contents of this box were saved and left for you by my client, Katherine Rachel Mullholland, as stated in her last will and testament. I apologize for the delay in getting this to you as it took some time to straighten out all the details.
Hilary skimmed the rest of the letter as it was mostly legal information. She set that aside and pulled out the other envelope. The faint scent of rose petals wafted from the delicate paper. Hilary smiled as she remembered the perfumed scent that Katherine always wore. She carefully opened the letter, noting it had been written in 1941, and read,
"Hilary,
I know it may seem silly for me to be saving these items for you, but I could think of no-one else who would want them. I've been following your career, dear, and you've become a fine actress. Why, I even saw a few of your performances. The Rivals was just lovely. Mr. Mullholland even enjoyed himself, once I cajoled the old fool into coming with me..."
Hilary laughed at the thought of Eddie's father, Charles, going anywhere near a theatre. It gladdened her heart to know that Katherine had cared enough to keep track of her. It was more than her own mother did. It made her feel like she'd had a guardian angel with her that she hadn't known about.
"....I hear you are working at a radio station now. I think that's wonderful. I do wish I lived close enough to be able to hear you, but, that's all right. I just hope that you are happy.
Hilary, I never want you to feel bad for leaving the way you did. You had to get away from Maine and your family. I understand that. Just know that you've always had me looking out for you and that I was prepared to come to you if I was needed.
Love to you and yours,
Katherine"
Hilary wiped a tear from her eye and set the letter down. She took the cardboard cover off the contents and gasped. She recognized many of the top items instantly. Her eyes instantly fell on a ragged looking teddy bear. She smiled and reached in to pick the toy up.
*I always thought that bear had your eyes*
Hilary turned and looked at the man who sat next to her. He hadn't changed in her mind since he boarded that train twenty-seven years ago. "Do you remember the day at the carnival when I won this bear for you?"
He laughed, "you packed a pretty good pitching arm, Fresh Face. I still can't believe you knocked all those milk bottles down."
She laughed and went through more of the contents. There were articles of clothing, books, even a few items of hers that she'd apparently left behind. She piled things neatly on the love seat as she emptied the box. A scrap book caught her eye next and she lifted it from it's place.
Hilary opened it to find articles that had been clipped and saved from her own career. "Katherine," she whispered, "I can't believe you kept all of this."
*I was proud of you.*
"At least someone was." Hilary muttered as she flipped the pages of the album. She laughed as she found a page of marriage and divorce announcements from varied gossip columns. "Trying to tell me something, Katherine?" She turned the page and found many early pictures of she and Jeff together from the tour of Razzle Dazzle. Including at the bottom of the page, their wedding announcement from a Dallas newspaper. "Did you have spies every where?"
*Only where it was necessary.*
The scrapbook ended with an announcement from Hedda Hopper of Bethie's birth. At the bottom of the last page, Katherine had written, as if she'd planned for Hilary to have the scrap book all along, "Edward would be thrilled to know that you achieved your dream."
Hilary smiled and hugged the book tightly to her. "I did, didn't I?" After setting the scrapbook aside, she pulled another book out. This, a photo album full of pictures of she and Eddie at varied ages. Hilary hadn't realized just how strongly Bethie did resemble her. At age three, there was barely a difference; that included the fact that she had a five year old Eddie's head in a vice grip at the time.
Finally all the contents had been gone through, except one rectangular shoe box. She picked it up and slowly opened the lid. Tears fell unnoticed as she saw the box's contents. There was a Purple Heart medal box; Hilary recognized it instantly, having just received Jeffrey's medal. Eddie's death certificate was folded beneath the medal's box, his dog tags lay beside it. Hilary picked up, what looked like an unfinished letter in Eddie's handwriting. It was addressed to her.
"Fresh face,
I miss you, Hilary. You can't begin to know how hot it is here and how I wish we could go cool off in that old stream behind the park outside of town. It sure is pretty country here though, sometimes on the rare quiet nights I wish you were here..."
The letter stopped there. Hilary sighed whistfully and set it back into it's place. She opened the box containing the medal and started when something fell from the lid onto her hand. The blue ribbon she'd tied around his wrist when he left. It was that item, that brought home to her, even after all the years that had past, the fact that he really had died in battle and had never come home. It also drove deeper the knowledge that Jeff was in the same danger.
She blinked back the tears that she refused to shed and undid the pin clasp on the gold locket she wore. She tied the blue ribbon into a neat bow and put it on the pin. She'd wear it that way from now on. She yawned and decided to go to sleep. She packed away the items and set them into the closet. Many of the things, she wanted to save for the children. With a sigh, she turned off the light, left the room and went to bed.
Epilogue
Mid-November, 1944; Los Angeles
"Alberto, darling.. what is the meaning of this?!"
Alberto jumped as the gossip section of the Los Angeles Times was angrily tossed on his desk. He took a deep breath, having known this confrontation was coming. He looked up at the fiery red haired woman and smiled. "The meaning of what, Madra, dear?"
Madra Lord, in her mind the reigning queen of Hollywood, bent closer to Alberto and seethed, "Who is this Hilary Booth Singer and why does she have MY ROLE!" Her emerald green eyes flared as she awaited his answer.
Alberto stood, "I'm sorry Madra, but this role was never officially given to you. I thought Hilary was perfect for this part and I gave it to her."
"Just like that," she snapped her fingers, "you gave it to her? I don't think so, Alberto. An unknown radio actress from Pittsburgh, for God's sake, does not just get a plum role like this!" She arched her brow and followed Alberto's pacing with her eyes. "How long has she been sleeping with you?"
Alberto stopped and walked up to the angry woman, "Hilary happens to be a married woman."
Madra laughed, a deep husky laugh, "Since when did that stop you."
"Look, Madra, I'll have no insults thrown now OR when Hilary arrives here next week." Alberto sat back down, "Now if you would like a role in this movie, I am still casting Margaret's best friend. Are you interested?"
"You couldn't give HER that role?"
"Do you want it or not?" He asked as he offered the script.
She yanked the thick papers out of his hand and stormed out of the office with a hearty slam of the door. He sighed, "I take it that's a yes." He picked up the newspaper article that had started the tirade and pressed a hand to his temple, feeling the beginnings of a headache. "God help this city when those two women meet."
The End