Esme 4: Hallelujah

“Charles, could you get the mail, dear? My hands are sticky,” I explained, putting the rolls out on the pan as I heard the mailman pass our home.

Charles’s usual gruff “Humph” answered, and I heard the floorboards creak under his weight. The door opened, then closed again. A few more seconds, and it reopened. However, it did not close like expected, and Charles took a few steps into the living room.

Odd. I couldn’t hear anything after that. I paused--not even his breathing was audible, and he seemed to pant most of the time.

“Charles?” I called curiously, rinsing my hands and stepping into the hallway.

He held a letter in both hands, and his eyes scanned the first sentence once, twice, a third time.

He looked up to me, and I saw an intense fear on his face, something I had never before seen.

“Kiss me, Esme,” he said, his voice almost desperate, pleading. “I’m being drafted.”

I was stunned for maybe a half-second, the implications of this statement not sinking into my brain. When they did, however, I was besides myself with elation.

Was there a God after all? A kind, wonderful, merciful God who listened to the prayers of the sinned but not the saved?

The War. How could the War be so hated, but then so loved, all in the same week? Essie had prayed so hard for her husband, and when his letter came, she cried and swore and we cursed that the War was an unnecessary burden in people’s lives. Couldn’t the Europeans fight their own dammed war?

But now…now the draft was a godsend. Charles, away to Europe…and there was a chance he may never come home again…never hurt me again.

My heart was singing--I had to cover my mouth to hide my gigantic smile and suck in a breath to keep from laughing in this glorious relief.

I thanked my lucky stars that he saw this as a grievous reaction--how could I grieve with news as wonderful as this?--for I was just too happy to even think of faking heartbreak.

Charles advanced to me, and he took me in his rough arms, pressing his lips down on mine. I wasn’t thinking as my arms automatically wrapped around his neck, my mouth moving against his. I was too far gone in my elation to care.

It was the first time since my wedding that I had truly kissed my husband.