Dancing in the Rain Read Online Free PDF Page A

what he expected. She wouldn’t wear a clothespin, and Carolyn doubted she’d ever defied him.
    As she poured two cups of tea and handed one to Carolyn, Helen said, “You never know. People were surprised when I fell in love with Glen. They always thought I’d marry the boy next door. I might have, too,” she said, breaking a piece of fruitcake and chewing it carefully. “But when I met Glen, I knew he was the one man for me. And look at me now, an old married woman.” Helen gave Carolyn an appraising glance. “Was it that way for you, too?”
    Carolyn spooned sugar into her cup and took her time stirring it while she tried to compose her reply. What should she say? Everyone knew she was engaged. The ring on her left hand was proof of that. The reasons, however, were known only to her. Not even Ed understood why she had accepted his offer of marriage. Though she had shared many secrets with Ed over the years, that was one he would never learn.
    Carolyn settled on the truth, or at least part of it. “The folks at home were surprised by my engagement, too,” she admitted. Surprise was a mild way to describe the total disbelief that the announcement had created in Canela. “But it was for the opposite reason. No one thought I’d marry Ed, because he was the boy next door.”
    Helen’s expression was thoughtful as she sipped her tea, and Carolyn wondered if something she had said had told Helen more than she’d intended. “Then it wasn’t what the French would call a coup de foudre ?” Helen asked.
    “A lightning bolt? Not really.” Not at all. “Ed and I were best friends all our lives. You could say that one thing led to another.” The war, her own impetuosity, Ed’s fears. They were all reasons she now wore a diamond on her left hand. But Helen didn’t need to know that. Nor did Ed.
    Helen nodded as if satisfied. “Love is wonderful, no matter where you find it.” She touched her wedding band.
    “And it has many forms,” Carolyn added. For she did love Ed. He was her dearest friend. Agreeing to marry him wasn’t a mistake any more than coming to France had been.
    That night Carolyn pulled out her stationery. Unlike Dwight’s Louise, she did not write to Ed only once a week. She tried to send him a note, even if only a brief one, every day or two, for she knew how important mail was to the soldiers in the trenches.
    Dear Ed. Carolyn crumpled the paper and grabbed another piece. She would address a friend as “dear.” Her fiancé deserved more. Dearest Ed. That was better. I know you of all people won’t be surprised by my latest adventure. Growing up next door, he’d been aware of the scrapes that her impetuosity had gotten her into, and more than once he’d pretended that she had been with him, when the truth was she had been doing things that would have alarmed her parents, including attempting to drive the family’s brand new automobile.
    Yesterday I worked as a nurse in the operating room. Can you picture that? The girl who cried when you skinned your knees —and, thanks to the awkwardness that Ed had never outgrown, that had happened frequently— was there, helping to dig out pieces of mortar and stitch—correction: ‘suture’—wounds. She wouldn’t think about the amputation, and she certainly wouldn’t tell a man on the front lines that another man would never again walk normally. Ed was all too aware of the dangers of battle.
    Knowing my luck, you won’t be surprised that I had to work with the most difficult doctor. To say it wasn’t easy is an understatement, but we both survived the experience and, more importantly, we helped many wounded.
    Be careful, dearest Ed. And when this war is over, we’11 have a wedding Canela will remember for years.
    Carolyn closed her eyes, picturing her wedding. She was walking down the aisle, dressed in her grandmother’s gown, carrying a bouquet of white roses. There at the front of the church, her groom was waiting. He was tall, with