"But your Dad did come home right away after the war, right?"
"Yeah." She nodded. "I'm pretty sure he did." She searched her memory banks for a moment and then nodded more firmly. "Yes." She told me. "He did. I remember him saying that he worked construction for a while right after the war. He told me that once when we were driving by some of those ghetto houses on the south side. He told me he'd helped build them in '47 and that they were nice back then." She looked over at me. "What does all of this have to do with anything?"
"I don't think your parents really hate ME." I told her. "They hate people LIKE me. More than hate, they detest, they're disgusted by."
"What are you saying Bill?" She asked uncomfortably.
"There's something in their past." I said. "Something in those six years after the war. I'll bet anything that's it."
"I'm not sure what you mean." She told me.
"Neither am I." I said. "Neither am I. Your old man's a mailman now, right?"
"Yes." She said. "He's been doing that since just after he and mom got married. He's getting ready to retire soon."
"So he's probably got a pretty cushy route, right?"
She nodded. "Yeah. He does those nice houses out by the river."
"What time does he usually get home?"
"Why?" She asked suspiciously. "You're not thinking of talking to him are you? That would be a very bad idea Bill."
"What time Nina?" I asked.
"Bill." She shook her head. "Don't do it. Daddy will kill you if he sees your face. He won't listen to a thing you say."
"Nina." I told her. "I intend to marry you some day."
She froze in her tracks, staring at me. "Marry?"
"Yes." I said. "I want to spend the rest of my life with you and I think you want to spend the rest of your life with me. Am I wrong?"
She swallowed nervously. "No." She said simply.
"I'd rather do it with your dad's blessing. I NEED to talk to him. Don't worry about me, I can take care of myself. And don't worry about your dad, I won't hit him." I chuckled. "He'd probably kick my ass anyway. But we need to talk."
"Bill," She shook her head vehemently. "You don't know…"
"No I don't." I said. "But all the same, this is something that is going to need to be addressed. I need to talk to him. What office does he work from and what time does he get off work?"
She saw the determination in my eyes. To this day I don't know if she gave in because she had faith in me or simply because of blind hope. But finally she said, "The office on North Grant Avenue in River View. He's usually done around two o'clock and home by two-thirty."
"Thank you Nina." I said. "I'd better get to class before I'm late."
"Bill?" She said as I turned from her.
I paused. "Yeah?"
"Good luck."
"I'll need it." I assured her. "And I love you."
"I love you too."
My hand was now completely healed up and I was cleared to return to full work duties. That included ROP. On the way to the trauma center I made a brief stop at home. I pulled something from my closet and took it downstairs, depositing it in a closed, cool place. I then drove to the hospital.
"Hi Mindy." I told my supervisor when I walked through the door.
"Bill!" She greeted me happily, even going so far as to give me a brief hug.
"I'm glad you're back." She lowered her voice and whispered. "Now maybe we can get some damn work done around here."
"Thanks Mindy." I told her.
"How's the hand? All better?"
I held it up for her perusal. It bore a clean, sharp scar that is still with me to this day.
"Poor baby." She cooed. "I've reassigned you with Kelly. Hope you don't mind. I had a little talk with your instructor about the incident with Brett, as well as some others, and she agreed that maybe he would be happier in shipping."
"I see." I said, feeling a minor pang of sorrow for Brett. He'd really wanted to get hired. "Listen Mindy," I started.
"Oh," She said, smiling. "By the way."
"Yeah?"
"I've put your name at the top of the list for students I recommend for hiring at semester break." She told me. "And my recommendations are always followed. Congratulations."
"Thanks Mindy." I told her happily. "I don't know what to say."
"You already said it." She said. "And it's not in your interest, it's in mine. You're a damn good worker."
"That's nice to hear." I told her. "But…"
"But?" She asked, glaring at me. "I don't like to hear buts."
"Well," I said. "I do need to ask a brief favor."
"And what might that be?"
"I need to cut out at one-thirty today. Today only. I hate to ask on my first day back but…"
She scoffed. "Is that all? You've got it Bill. Cut out whenever you want."
"Thanks again Mindy." I told her.
"Welcome aboard Bill." She said as I headed off to the sterilization area.
I decided to take my hiring as a good omen for my later task.
The River View area of Spokane was and is one of the more exclusive parts of town. The streets here were lined with trees and had center dividers that had grass growing on them; grass that was lovingly maintained by an army of City-paid gardeners. Streets that did not have any liquor stores, pawn shops, K-Marts, or, God forbid, apartment complexes. It was where the elite of Spokane lived; the lawyers, the real estate developers, the movers and shakers. It was a part of town where I had to be genuinely worried that I would be pulled over by a Spokane police officer, a high seniority officer of course, on general principals when my Datsun was spotted cruising the streets. It was a part of town that I'd rarely responded into as a paramedic. Rich people simply didn't call for ambulances very often.
Even the post office was a miracle of modern architecture. It was a single story building with Spanish tile on the roof, tucked unobtrusively away behind a commercial complex. The snow was still drifting down as I pulled in at twenty minutes to two that afternoon and found a parking spot in view of Mr. Blackmore's car.
I waited, chewing on my fingernails in anticipation.
At five minutes to two I spotted Mr. Blackmore heading from the main building out into the parking lot. He was walking hunched over against the wind, his postal uniform upon his body. I opened my car door and stepped out, taking a final deep breath to gather my courage. I headed towards him on an intercept course.
"Mr. Blackmore." I hailed when he was less than ten feet from me.
He looked up, his face showing his age, his gray hair tucked beneath his cap. I was struck by the strong resemblance between him and Nina. It took him a moment to recognize me. When he did his eyes burned.
"You." He spat, glaring.
"Me." I agreed.
"Get away from me you slime." He told me. "How dare you come here."
"We need to talk Sir." I told him firmly.
"I have nothing to talk to YOU about." He said. "Get away from me right now or I'll call the cops."
"I don't think we need to involve the police in this." I said. "I don't think they'd be very interested. I just want to talk to you about your daughter."
"My daughter has been forbidden to see you."
"I know." I answered. "She told me that when I talked to her this morning."
"You stay away from her!" He yelled. "Do I need to call the school and talk to the principal about keeping you apart?"
"You could." I allowed. "And he might go so far as to separate our classes.
But that won't help. Your daughter and I are in love Mr. Blackmore. No matter what you do, no matter what precautions you take, we will find some way to see each other."
"Not if I have anything to say about it." He proclaimed, heading for his car once more. "Stay away from her!"
"I can't Mr. Blackmore." I told him simply.
He turned back towards me, his face red, his hands balled into fists. I was forced to wonder if the flippant comment I'd made to Nina about him kicking my ass hadn't been so flippant after all. "You WILL!" He ordered.