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In Times Like These (Women of the Heartland) (Volume 1)

By Gail Kittleson

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Someone wearing Burma Shave hoisted Addie from a rickety oak piano stool into a polka’s wild pulse. One minute, her fingers flew in tandem with George Miller’s tempo on the accordion. The next, the crowded town hall whirled before her eyes. Strong arms pulled her out of a twirl, and laughing brown eyes sparkled at her between deep-set matching wrinkles.
“Your feet are almost as talented as your fingers on those old ivories, Mrs. Bledsoe.”
Addie gathered her wits. “George?”
The rural mailman’s laughter melded with aromas from the food table, where aproned women piled homemade chocolate cake, lemon pie, and other delicacies. Nearby, the steady glub glub of every percolator in Halberton, Iowa kept time with the music.
Over on the makeshift stage, somebody else now belted notes from George’s bright red accordion, but before Addie could figure out who it was, he lunged her into the Wooden Heart Polka. Her dark curls flew in her eyes—she was flying, flying...
An old fellow on the tuba and his wife on the concertina zipped into a foot-tapping melody. More onlookers took to the dance floor and a whirr of excitement buzzed the high-ceilinged room.
Above it all, a wide paper banner announced the reason for these festivities. Red Cross Annual Roll Call—Halberton County Goal for 1941—$10,000. Below, someone penciled in earmarks: $500, $1,000, $1,250, and on to the final amount.
George pulled Addie to the side and grinned down at her. “If you weren’t married, I’d take you up to New Ulm, Minnesota to hear The Six Fat Dutchmen. Been in the business since ’32. They spruce
the beat up so much, I can hardly make it through the moves.” “I can’t imagine that. You’re not even panting”
Furrows crinkled George’s brow. “How’s your mother-in-law these days? Has Orville improved any?”
“If anything, he’s gotten worse. Berthea has to feed him now.” “Umm—that poor woman’s got a mighty heavy load.”
The piano started in again and perky crescendos added an upswing. The new pianist’s flaming hair fit right into the gala atmosphere. Leave it to Fern to blend an oompah beat with runs she normally played on the church organ.
Then a blur of blue closed in, and someone grabbed Addie’s hand. Kate—her eyes flashed like the Iowa summer sky. George threw up his palms in mock dismay and waved Addie off with her best friend.
Kate grabbed a chair and pulled Addie down beside her. “Hey, you were looking good out there—you haven’t forgotten how to dance.”
“The last time I attempted a polka was at—”
“Our senior formal. Harold wouldn’t lower himself to do the polka, so Joe took you out on the floor.”
“While Alexandre swooshed you around Canadian style.” Kate squeezed Addie’s hand. “And then, before we knew it, he took you to Canada.”
Back on the stage, George strapped on his accordion, and Kate changed the subject. “George cleaned out our driveway every winter morning before his mail route. What a peach of a guy, Aunt Alvina always said. It’s sad his wife died so young, but we never know...”
Kate’s grimace sent a pang through Addie. “If only I’d been here when Aunt Alvina passed, but after Alexandre got called up—”
“Your mother-in-law needed you, and you decided to wait for him with his family.”
Wistfulness filled Kate’s voice. “Yes.”
“Remember what you said yesterday? What’s past is past. Regrets are a waste of—”
Like sunshine after a storm, Kate’s grin returned. “Time.” She pulled Addie up and sashayed her through a line of Schottische dancers three abreast. Then someone caught her arm and whizzed them both into a line.
Ponytails flipped from side to side as girls maneuvered the hop steps. One of them had been in Kate and Addie’s class. When Harold came home from the elevator this morning, he said her brother left yesterday—he and three others from his senior class joined up.
A snippet of conversation caught Addie’s ear. “Our boys’ll tear those Germans and Japs limb from limb. It’ll all be over soon.”
“Sure hope so, but it’s hard to think of so many of our best young men off to war. Come on—hafta dance even faster, for them.”Ten minutes later, Addie stepped out of the next round, and Kate joined her. “My collar’s as wet as if it just came from the clothes wringer. How about an apple cider?” She led the way to a gleaming silver punch bowl.
“You leave tomorrow—are you all packed?”
Minus a hairpin in her wispy blond hair, Kate filled two cups
with cinnamon-laced cider. Addie grabbed some cookies and they plopped on the stage steps.
“Mostly. Can’t believe how fast the time has gone. December 14th already—one last fling before I board the train.” Kate devoured a cookie in two bites. “I was hoping you’d be here, kiddo. This way, I didn’t have to upset Harold by coming out to the farm in the morning.”
“Heaven knows he won’t show his face in here with all these Germans.”
“Right.”
“He only let me come because this is raising money for the troops, and he couldn’t say no to the banker. But he certainly expressed his doubts, especially after Germany declared war on us yesterday.”
“Oh, I can imagine. ‘You’re going to be playing German music, aren’t you? Don’t you know the Krauts are the enemy?’” Kate low- ered her voice to a mocking tone.
“That’s pretty close. When I reminded him polka music has roots as Polish as it does German, he hit the roof.”
“German, Polish, what’s the difference? They’re all mad over there, but it’s Hitler who keeps stirring the pot.’”
“Harold’s opinion, exactly.”
“Still, he chose you. Never mind that your mother said, ‘Yah vol’ with the best of them.”
Addie chuckled. “Maybe he accepted me because our name was Shields. Still, Daddy wasn’t much of an English gentleman.”
At that ludicrous idea, Kate almost choked on her cider, so Addie smacked her on the back. “No more joking for you tonight. Here, eat another one of Berthea’s famous sugar cookies. You need
energy for your trip.”
“She’s the best baker around,” Kate replied through an enormous bite. “How could her son have turned out so sour, growing up with baking like this?”Her comment increased the lump in Addie’s throat. They’d spent so little time together since Kate came back to town, and the evening was almost over.
“How long will it take to get to Canada?”
“Probably two times forever, with the bulging troop trains. Chances of finding a ship are better there than in New York, though.
And when I do land in England, I still have to find Alexandre.” “They didn’t give you any clue where he is?”
“A makeshift hospital somewhere in London. Guess I’ll get to know the city, eh?”
The heavy iron clock keeping watch over the banner announced only an hour left. “I’m so glad we caught up with each other yes- terday at the cemetery.”
“Great minds—and hearts—run together. I couldn’t believe it when I saw you standing beside your mother’s grave. I believe the afternoon warmed up just so we could have that time to talk without Harold hovering over us.”
The music stopped and the bank manager climbed midway up a wooden stepladder. He scrawled $1,575 near the bottom of the banner and someone handed him the megaphone.
“Thanks for coming out tonight, folks. When we reach $2,000, the bank’s going to kick in an extra hundred dollars to give us a head start on next year’s goal.” A cheer broke, and the trumpeter restarted the “Wooden Heart.”
“Remember this song from German class? Come on, let’s dance again.” Kate crooned in Addie’s ear, “Sei mir gut, sei mir gut, sei mir wie du wirklich sollst... Be good to me, be to me how you really should...”
“How can you breathe that evil tongue?” Addie arched in fake protest as they wove through the dancers.
“You sound just like Harold. Don’t let him influence you too much.”
“How will I even know that’s happening?”Addie shivered in spite of the room’s warmth. “Oh Kate, I’m going to miss you so much.”
“I’ll write, I promise. But how will you keep Harold from finding my letters?”
“I usually go after the mail, since his mother’s afraid to leave Orville.” “Berthea, afraid?”
“Being stuck in the house has changed her. And your letters—
don’t worry. I’ll just have to find a spectacular hiding place.” After another song, Addie took Fern’s place until Fern, drenched
in freshly applied Emeraude, came back to switch with her again. Then Kate and Addie danced some more. Finally, they collapsed
on the steps again. “I sure hope you find Alexandre soon.” “Wailing Winnies keep buzzing over London, and oil bombs —sure hope one doesn’t hit wherever he’s staying.” Kate’s sigh tore at Addie’s heart. “The next time we see each other, I bet you’ll have
little ones running around.”
“Not according to Harold—he doubts I’ll ever fulfill his desire
for children.”
“Hey, you’ve only been married three years.” Kate gave her a hug.
“He’s coming for you at 10?”
A mash of emotions swarmed Addie—so many things she should say, but words forsook her. Kate turned quiet too, and sitting here together seemed enough.
At 9:55, the banker scrawled another $500 on the banner. “With the bank’s donation, we’ve got a solid foundation for 1942.
Bravo to you generous people who dug deep into your pockets for the cause.”
Like clockwork, Harold entered the hall and stood with his arms crossed. But before he spotted Addie, the banker climbed down and grabbed his elbow. A reprieve.
“There’s your prince, as cheerful as ever.”
Addie clung to Kate’s hand. “I’ll watch every day for your letters
and write back as soon as you send me an address.” “Youdon’tknowwhatthatmeanstome,Ad.”TheglintinKate’s
eyes belied her determined expression.
“I hope you have a safe trip and find a ship with no trouble. I’ll
be praying no Nazi submarines spot you and you don’t get seasick. Breathless, she added, “And that you find Alexandre right away.” Glimpsing Harold from the corner of her eye, it was clear he fidgeted under the banker’s scrutiny. Better get over there. She
grabbed Kate in a fierce hug.
“If anyone can manage this, you can, Kate Isaacs.”
“You think I’m the strong one, but you’re my anchor. Since Aunt
Alvina died, I’ve felt so... lost. And now with Alexandre’s plane crashing...” Kate’s voice cracked, but she forced a smile.
“You’d best join the gathering crowd around your football hero, debate champion, ultimate farmer husband, Addie Bledsoe. I’ll slip out the side door, so he’ll never even notice me.”
Her fingers trailed the air, but she hurried back and whispered, “Watch out for him, you hear? I don’t trust Harold for one minute.”
Addie brushed her eyes with the back of her hand. All the things she should have said swirled in her head. Suddenly, her feet felt heavy, but she made her way across the room and slipped in next to Harold
“What do you think about Germany declaring war on us? That devil Hitler has to be destroyed, that’s for sure. And those Japs— can’t believe one of our hometown boys might’ve perished last week in that harbor.”
“Yeah.Joe.”Harold’s dull response sent a warning down her spine. “They’ll be sorry—we’ll show ’em.”
The little muscle in his cheek went wild, and Addie held her breath. It could be a long night.
“Your little wife’s piano playing has added so much to our evening. Thanks for sharing her with us.”
“You’re welcome. My Addie’s quite the gal, isn’t she?”
A few people had entered the circle, and woman turned to another. “Oh, wouldn’t it be nice to be young and in love again?” Over by the side door, Kate scanned the crowd and gave Addie a secretive wave. When she left, a draft of bitter cold swept the
room. Addie unconsciously rubbed her thumbnail with her fore-finger—winter stretched ahead like an eternity.

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