Embrace of a Lifetime
March 1931
Holding her shoes in one hand, Rosie tiptoed up the stairs and down the hall past her parents’ bedroom door. After living in this house for more than 16 years, she knew which boards creaked and how to avoid setting off their alarming squeal. As she performed her strange dance, she heard shifting and rustling noises from her parents’ bedroom. Rosie held her breath, waiting for silence again. Satisfied that her parents were still asleep, Rosie started to move again towards her room.
“Rosie?”
Rosie froze, startled by the unexpected voice. Unsure of what to do, Rosie stood, rooted to the floor just inches away from her bedroom. Mickie. Why in the world was she awake?
“Rosie? What are you doing?” Mickie stood in her doorway, sleepy but expectant all the same.
“I just got up for a drink. What are you doing?” Rosie tried not to sound defensive.
“I thought I heard you leave the house earlier. I checked your room, and you weren’t there.” With each word, Rosie felt her fear growing. “But then I fell asleep. Are you just getting home?”
Putting on her best, I’m-the-big-sister-you’d-better-watch-out-or-you’ll-be-sorry tone of voice, Rosie retorted, “I don’t know what you’re talking about. You must have been dreaming. I just woke up and was thirsty. Now go back to bed!”
Without waiting for Mickie’s response, she entered her room and quietly shut the door. Letting out a shaky breath, Rosie set her bag on the floor and tiptoed to the window.
Pulling back the curtains, she saw him leaning against the old oak tree in the front yard. Despite the cold, he stood patiently, calmly. When she waved to him, he pushed off the tree and came into the glow from the street lamp. He stood with his hand in the air for a few seconds, matching her palm against the windowpane. Suddenly, the air was filled with soft, fluttering white snowflakes and the bare tree branches shifted in the increasing wind. Rosie watched her husband of four hours turn, walk to his car, and drive away.
Rosie leaned against the wall and let out a bittersweet sigh. Mrs. Harrison Campbell. What had she done? She stifled a nervous giggle and walked to her closet. As she undressed, she thought of how Margaret would react. She would certainly be shocked. Other than her best friend, she couldn’t tell a soul.
Rosie tried not to think about Mickie. Surely she would not tell anyone of Rosie’s late night wanderings. For a moment, Rosie panicked. What would Momma and Daddy do if they found out? Sixteen-year-old girls in 1931 Indiana didn’t elope with their twenty-three-year-old boyfriends. At least not good girls. And Rosie was a good girl.
She always received high grades in school, made good friends, was involved in church. But if word of her elopement got out, she figured she wouldn’t be considered a “good girl” any more. Rosie was surprised to feel no sorrow or shame at that thought. Climbing into bed, she pulled a pillow close to her and hugged it with all her might.
Remembering the sweet caresses and kisses from Harrison started that flow of hot liquid in her again. She could hardly think of what had happened in that cabin he had taken her to on their way home. It made her shiver with excitement and what she knew was plain desire. And she desired Harrison Campbell more than she ever thought possible.
Rosie looked at the clock on her bedside table. The moonlight shone through the window and revealed the time: 3:30 in the morning! She had made it home only an hour before Daddy usually woke up to start his morning chores. She knew she should try to sleep; after all, tomorrow was a school day.
Rosie stared up at the ceiling in the dark, reliving the beauty of her wedding night. She dreamily recalled the events of the last three months, which culminated in her elopement tonight with Harrison Campbell. Mrs. Harrison Campbell. Mrs. Rosie Campbell. Mrs. Rosemary Evelyn Campbell. The name suited her just fine.
Trying to ignore the nagging fear of Mickie’s discovery, she floated into an exhausted, but dream-filled slumber.
