Class of '59 (American Journey Book 4) (23 page)

Piper pondered the matter as a bell rang and students ran toward the school. She weighed the pros and cons, considered Mary Beth, and came away as undecided as ever. Then she looked at Ben, saw the sincerity in his eyes, and decided that a week, in the great cosmic scheme of things, was still just seven days.

"I'll need a dress," Piper said.

Ben perked up.

"My mom is a dressmaker."

Piper smiled.

"I'll need shoes too."

Ben chuckled.

"Pasadena has stores."

"Can I pick the restaurant?" Piper asked.

Ben grinned.

"You can pick anything you want."

Piper fixed her gaze.

"Will you behave yourself?"

"I'll be as good as the pope."

Piper giggled.

"I suppose that's good."

"It is," Ben said.

"In that case, Mr. Ryan, I accept your offer," Piper said. She leaned to her left and kissed him on the cheek. "You have a date."

CHAPTER 37: MARK

Los Angeles, California – Saturday, April 18, 1959

Mark watched his mother with admiration, interest, and concern as she reached for the bottle of whiskey in the middle of the table and filled her glass for the fourth time. She continued to inspire him even as she continued to worry him.

"Are you all right, Mom?" Mark asked.

"I'm fine, honey," Donna said. "I'm just feeling a little sentimental. I've found that whiskey and sentiment go hand in hand."

Mark laughed. He couldn't argue with that. He had spent the last two hours drinking whiskey and getting sentimental as he and his mother remembered Theodore Henry Ryan on what would have been his fiftieth birthday. He allowed his mind to drift to pleasant places from his past until a woman with a pleasant voice brought him back to the present.

"Thank you for dinner, Mrs. Ryan," Mary Beth said.

"You're welcome," Donna replied.

"Thanks as well for including me in your day. I know how hard it is to be around strangers when mourning the loss of a loved one. It's an honor to be here."

Donna sipped her spirit and gazed at the woman to her left. She looked at Mary Beth like the daughter she never had or perhaps the woman she used to be.

"I appreciate your presence," Donna said. "I know young people have better things to do on a Saturday night than help an old woman reminisce."

Mark shook his head.

"You're not old, Mom. You're forty-eight."

Donna laughed.

"I am. But I feel
ninety
-eight."

Mary Beth smiled.

"You don't look a day over thirty to me."

Donna looked at Mark.

"She's a charmer, son. Don't let her go."

Mark gave Mary Beth a wistful smile.

"Trust me, Mom. I don't want to."

Mark didn't either. He didn't want to let her go. He didn't want to say goodbye. He wanted to hold on to Mary Beth McIntire for as long as he could.

Mark felt fortunate to have her at all. Until Ben had come home from school on Friday and announced he was taking Piper to the prom, he had expected to spend the weekend alone, directionless, and in a perpetual state of misery. He had expected to watch Mary Beth and her sister step into the tunnel and vanish forever.

Now he did not know what to expect. He knew only that he had another week to enjoy a woman who mesmerized him on a daily basis. He gazed at Mary Beth for a moment and then turned his attention to the other important woman in his life.

"What are you doing tomorrow?" Mark asked.

Donna looked at her son.

"I'm going to the cemetery to put flowers on your father's grave."

"I thought you did that today."

"I had planned to."

"So why didn't you?" Mark asked.

"I went shopping instead," Donna said.

"You went shopping?"

"Yes. I went shopping. I went shopping with two charming girls."

Mark looked to Mary Beth for a clue and found one in the form of a wide grin. He could see she was part of a conspiracy to keep him in the dark.

"What's going on?"

Mary Beth laughed.

"We scoured the earth for rayon."

"You're not helping," Mark said.

Donna finally came to the rescue.

"We went shopping for fabric today. I'm making Piper a prom dress, Mark. She wanted a certain fabric. I agreed to help her find it."

Mark looked at Mary Beth.

"Is that why you passed up the game?"

"It's one reason," Mary Beth said. She smiled. "I also wanted a manicure."

Donna laughed.

"I'm so glad I'm not a girl," Mark said.

"I am too," Donna said.

Mary Beth giggled.

"That makes three of us."

Mark laughed to himself as he remembered how the day had begun. He and Ben had called the Chaparral Motel at nine, asked Mary Beth and Piper to a baseball game, and frowned when told that the sisters needed time together to do something important. He could not have known that Donna was already on her way to South Pasadena or that shopping and manicures held more weight than the Dodgers and the Cubs in the minds of two time travelers.

Mark and Ben drove to the motel after the game, blissfully unaware of the shopping spree. They picked up their dates at six, took them back to the Painted Lady, and enjoyed a beef stroganoff dinner that Donna had prepared.

Ben and Piper had stayed only for dinner and dessert. Five minutes after eating pie in honor of a terrific husband and father, they walked out the front door, jumped into the T-Bird, and drove directly to the Rose City Drive-In. Both had told their siblings that they wanted to exorcise the demons of the previous weekend by revisiting the haunted house.

Mark smiled at their bold and creative decision and also at his good fortune. Ben and Piper had done more than bury the hatchet. They had given their siblings an extra week to make sense of a situation that became more complicated by the day.

Mark gazed at Mary Beth as she carried out a light conversation with Donna and noticed that she wore the turquoise earrings she had purchased in Las Vegas. He had not noticed them until now and wondered if there were other things about her that he had not picked up. It was easy to miss details when one focused on a pleasant voice and a pretty face.

He thought briefly about the weekend in Nevada, which seemed a lifetime ago, and the man who had apparently followed the time travelers to Los Angeles. Though he no longer worried about the man with the deformed ear, he could not entirely forget him. He wondered whether a man in pursuit of a potential fortune would ever give up his search. He thought not.

Mark gave the matter another moment and then turned his attention to Donna and Mary Beth. He smiled at both, joined their conversation, and resumed a most enjoyable evening.

CHAPTER 38: MARK

Two hours later, after Donna had retired and a waxing moon had risen above the San Gabriel Mountains, Mark helped Mary Beth wash the dishes and then led her from the kitchen to a living room that all but announced its budding promise. The room featured a large sofa, a recliner, a jukebox, and a freestanding television set with "wrap-around" sound. A black rotary telephone, much like the one in the kitchen, sat on one table. A 1930s cathedral radio rose from another.

"This is my favorite room in the house," Mark said.

"I can see why," Mary Beth said. "It's filled with gadgets."

Mark smiled.

"Do you want to sit?"

Mary Beth nodded.

"I do."

Mark waited for Mary Beth to take a seat, plopped down next to her, and then threw his arm over her shoulders. He could literally feel her relax as she burrowed into his side.

"Did you enjoy dinner?" Mark asked.

"I did," Mary Beth said. "I enjoyed the whole day."

"My mother adores you."

"I like her too."

Mark pulled her closer.

"Was she helpful on your little shopping spree today?"

"She was more than helpful. She paid for everything," Mary Beth said. "She said Piper and I were the daughters she had always wanted to spoil. The comment made me cry."

"Why would it make you cry?"

Mary Beth lifted her head and stared at Mark.

"You really
are
a guy."

Mark laughed.

"I confess."

Mary Beth sighed.

"Your mom's comment made me cry because it reminded me that we don't always get the things we want in life. She'll never have daughters to spoil or even a husband to enjoy in old age. She'll be mired in memories and laments for the rest of her days."

"She'll be fine," Mark said. "She has Ben and me."

Mary Beth nodded.

"That's a lot. I just hope it's enough. Your mother has so much to give. It's a shame to see her call it quits before she's even fifty. It's just plain sad."

"I suppose it is," Mark said. "We've all had to make adjustments since last fall. Dad was a pretty big part of our lives. I still think of him every day. I think of him every time I walk into this room. He purchased every one of the 'gadgets' you see."

Mary Beth sat up, leaned forward, and gazed at the appliances in the room as if looking at relics in the Smithsonian Institution. She focused on the large machine in a distant corner.

"Tell me about the jukebox."

"What do you want to know?" Mark asked.

"I don't know. I guess everything. How did your dad get it? How much is it worth? How does it work? Is it loaded with records?" Mary Beth asked. "I've never seen anything like it."

Mark smiled.

"I keep forgetting that you're used to better things."

Mary Beth gave him a pointed glance.

"I'm used to
different
things, Mark. Not all are better."

Mark chuckled.

"I can't argue with that. I've seen the future."

Mary Beth raised a brow.

"Can you answer my questions, please?"

"OK. I'll try," Mark said. "The jukebox is a Wurlitzer 1015. Dad bought it six years ago for cost from a man in San Diego. I honestly don't know how much it's worth today, but I suspect it's worth a lot. It's still in mint condition and fully functional."

"How does it work?"

"You press a few buttons and wait for the music."

"You don't need coins?" Mary Beth asked.

Mark shook his head.

"That was an option Dad passed up. He refused to pay for his own music."

Mary Beth scolded him with a smile.

"You're a smart aleck. Do you know that?"

Mark laughed.

"I'm sorry. I couldn't resist."

Mary Beth sighed.

"Can we play something?"

Mark nodded.

"Come on. I'll show you what it can do."

Mark helped Mary Beth from the sofa and escorted her to the corner of the room and an appliance he knew well but rarely used. He flipped on a power switch in back and waited for the device – a flourish of bright lights, wood cabinetry, and chrome trim – to come to life.

Mary Beth placed her hands on the see-through dome as a kaleidoscope of lights flickered and the dormant music machine began to hum and click. She peeked through the small windows in front, frowned, and then looked at Mark.

"There's nothing printed on the title strips."

"I know."

"That makes no sense," Mary Beth said.

Mark chuckled.

"It does in this house."

"I don't understand."

"We never bothered to write the titles on the cards. Dad knew which buttons to push for his songs. Mom and Ben know which buttons to push for theirs. We all do."

"What do your guests do?" Mary Beth asked.

"They fend for themselves."

"That's not very hospitable."

"No," Mark said. He smiled. "It's not."

"Can you play something now?" Mary Beth asked.

Mark nodded.

"What would you like?"

Mary Beth looked at Mark.

"Play a slow song. I'd like to dance."

"You've got it."

Mark stepped toward the jukebox, pressed five buttons, and waited patiently as the machine selected the first vinyl disc. A moment later, he took Mary Beth in his arms, guided her to an open space, and started dancing to "Smoke Gets in Your Eyes."

"Do you like the Platters?" Mark asked.

Mary Beth nodded.

"I have an album of their greatest hits. Jordan gave it to me one Christmas. He said my life wouldn't be complete unless I listened to all the fifties classics at least once."

Mark laughed to himself at the reference to "classics." He had never thought of fifties music as classic because, to him, it was cutting edge and fresh. He could not imagine what it would be like to go
back
in time and view the world as it was.

Mark pondered the comment for a moment and then turned his attention to the woman in his arms. He pulled Mary Beth close as they moved slowly, smoothly, and effortlessly across a squeaky hardwood floor. He wondered what it would be like to dance with her every night.

"What are you thinking?" Mark asked.

Mary Beth took a breath.

"I'm thinking about how much I'm going to miss you."

"We don't need to talk about that now."

"You're right. We don't."

Mark acknowledged the statement with a nod and gave the impression he had moved on to another subject, but he had not. Like Mary Beth, Ben, and Piper, he could not set aside the painful separation to come. He had allowed himself to hope that this magical experience could continue when he knew as well as anyone it could not.

"I wonder how our siblings are doing tonight," Mark said. He slowed the pace as the Platters gave way to Little Anthony and the Imperials. "I didn't see their reconcilement coming."

"I didn't either," Mary Beth said. "I guess Piper really wanted to go to the prom. Or maybe she likes Ben more than she let on. She hasn't told me much."

Mark smiled.

"I'm in the dark too. The only thing I know for sure is that my brother is a different person. He told me something today that he's never told me before."

"What's that?"

"He said he's caught the love bug."