The GI Bride Read Online Free PDF

dad
grunted.
    ‘Aw, nothin’,’ replied
Bob, stifling his laughter. He told me later that his mom had elbowed him in the ribs.
Her husband had a nasty temper when provoked.
    I felt relieved when we left Chicago’s
inner city behind and entered the suburb of Elmwood Park. It was still drab and,
although it was not yet full daylight, it was clear that these monotone neighbourhoods
were unlike Hollywood movie suburbs. Here, the small square brick bungalows huddled
together in row upon row of sameness. The garages, at the rear of each property, were
accessed by way of alleyways that ran behind the properties; they’d been planned
that way, I supposed, so that they could be built close together on the narrow plots of
land. We had lived like that in England but in rented council housing. Somehow I’d
thought it would be different in America,where people owned their own
homes, and my heart sank a little. This place was definitely not in Technicolor.
    When at last we turned on to the street
where the Irvines lived, and I saw their house, I gasped in delight: they had left the
Christmas lights up to welcome us home even more of a surprise in that it was now early
March.
    ‘It’s beautiful,’ I
said.
    ‘Holy cow,’ added Bob. ‘I
sure didn’t think it would still be Christmas here.’ He looked happy.
    ‘We thought you’d like some
brightness in your life after all that …’ She glanced across at me. I wondered
what she would have said if I hadn’t been there, probably something about the lack
of central heating and a telephone in my home, the British rain, and our rather low
standard of living.
    ‘It’s wonderful,’ I
murmured. ‘Thank you.’
    I had never seen the outside of a house
decorated with lights before; back at home, we had never had any Christmas lights. In
fact, last Christmas was the first time ever that we’d had a tree. Bob had bought
us a tiny one and we’d sat it on top of the television, decorating it with
homemade paper chains. Here, multicoloured lights outlined the windows, doors and roof.
It was magical.
    Mr Irvine pulled up in front of the house, a
bungalow, and parked there temporarily while we unloaded the luggage. I started towards
the back of the car to help with the suitcases but Mrs Irvine elbowed me out of the way.
‘Go wait by the front door. Daddy will let you in while I help Robert with the
bags,’ she said, somewhat dismissively. I did as I was told. My father-in-law
lumbered up the frontsteps, fished around in his coat pocket and
produced an enormous ring of keys. After some mumbling, he unlocked the door and let me
in.
    ‘Just go on in, Ira,’ he said.
Jeez, I thought. He doesn’t even know my name.
    Bob and his mother, who were both breathing
heavily from lugging the cases up the steps, soon joined us.
    ‘Well, here we are at last,’
said Mrs Irvine. ‘I thought today would never come.’ Great tears began to
cascade down her face, but she was smiling.
    ‘Yeah, you’ll be in your
grandmother’s old room,’ grunted ‘Daddy’.
    ‘I did tell you Grandma’s gone
to stay with Aunt Freda, didn’t I, Robert?’
    ‘Yes, you did, Mom. Hope she
wasn’t upset that she had to move out.’
    ‘No. It was Freda’s turn to have
her for a while anyway, but she’ll be down for a visit with the others soon.
They’ll all want to see you, Robert.’
    ‘And meet my wife,’ Bob
interjected.
    ‘Oh, yes, of course,’ stuttered
his mother.
    Inside the Irvines’ house, which
reeked of cigar smoke, all the Christmas decorations were still up and an artificial
tree was loaded with baubles and twinkling lights. There were piles of presents beneath
it, and we were told they were all for us, but they would have to wait. I was exhausted
and desperately needed sleep, and so, hoping the outside world would look less dreary
and frightening in the daylight, I asked if I might be excused. At long last, I
collapsed into bed.
    The following day, I slept until
mid-afternoon, at whichtime