Sandy Kay Slawson
August 25, 1953
VA Hospital
Birmingham, Alabama
Sergeant Joseph Wallace winced as he pushed himself upright in the hospital bed with his one good arm. The other appendage, bandaged and in a sling, along with lesser injuries along his left side, ached with the movement. A wave of bitterness washed through him. “What a waste.”
“Are you griping about the armistice again?” Henry, in the bunk beside Joey’s, scratched his bandaged head. “We served our country, but we can’t control the powers that be.”
“Still, three years of misery, death, and this,”—Joey nodded to his arm—“in Korea. For what? No resolution? It’s frustrating.”
“Sure, it is. But the war is over. That’s reason enough to celebrate.”
“I am but—”
A nurse strode into the room and to Henry’s side. “Time to remove those wrappings and send you home.”
“What about my friend?” He gestured to Joey.
The no-nonsense woman unwrapped Henry. “He’ll be out of here soon. Today, it’s your turn.”
After his roommate’s discharge, a black fog settled on Joey. With a groan, he scooched further under the covers and tried to rest. As usual, unwanted flashbacks of bullets, bunkers, and blood played like the Sands of Iwo Jima with the Duke himself.
Sometime later, the click of heels woke him. The first glimpse of his guest, crimson velvet shoes, and slim ankles made his eyes pop open. As he followed his line of sight from kitten heels to the red and white gingham dress with a bow at her narrow waist to vibrant scarlet lips, he whispered, “Did I die and go to Heaven?”
The bombshell giggled as she entered with hesitant steps.
Joey struggled upright and rubbed his crew cut.
“Hi, there. I didn’t mean to disturb you.”
Ooh, that sultry southern drawl. Joey’s gaze lifted to eyes greener than a shamrock and then to hair as fiery as those lips. Va-va-voom. “Ma’am, you couldn’t bother me if you came in singing Blackberry Boogie.”
Another giggle. “You haven’t heard me sing, soldier.”
After a lengthy pause, he caught himself staring. Again. “Um, how can I help you?”
“May I visit a while?” The woman clutched her red handbag.
Confused, he waved toward a chair. “To what do I owe this pleasure, Miss…”
“Just Ruby is fine, Mr. Wallace.” She tucked her skirt, settled in the seat, and crossed her long legs.
With eyes glued to hers, he nodded. “Ruby. It suits you. But how do you know me?”
A rosy hue brightened her cheeks. “Well … I asked Henry. You see, I came another time, but you were resting.”
Oh, brother. Had he been drooling? Talking in his sleep? With a swipe at his rough black whiskers, Joey tamped down his embarrassment. “I’m at a disadvantage. I didn’t have the chance to make a decent first impression.”
“That’s of no consequence, Mr. Wallace.”
“Joey.”
The slight twinkle in her eye told him she enjoyed having the upper hand.
With a glance at Henry’s old bed, she smiled. “I see they released him. That’s wonderful.”
He adjusted his position and tried not to wince. “I’m still not clear about who you are. A nurse?”
Ruby rose and held her dainty fingers out for a handshake. “I’m a volunteer.”
When he enveloped her hand in his, a zing tingled across his skin. His gaze flew to hers. That flushed skin and accelerated rise and fall of her chest told him she experienced the same.
Extricating herself, she returned to the chair. “I-I heard you’ve been on the grumpy side and thought I might encourage you.”
“Thanks, Henry,” he mumbled.
She hugged the diminutive purse in her lap. “I’ve also heard you’ll make a full recovery. I’m relieved.”
Bitterness roughened his response. “Yeah, after months of therapy. What am I supposed to do until then?”
Ruby’s upturned mouth dropped, and she stood quick enough to make the wooden legs scrape against the floor. “At least you will recover, sir. There are many,” her voice cracked. “Many who do not.”
Joey’s mouth fell as she hurried out the door.
Later, an orderly brought him a meal, but Joey had no appetite. When the man swiveled to leave, he halted him with a touch to his uniformed arm. “Are you familiar with a gal named Ruby?”
The man’s features broke into a wide grin. “Oh, yes. That’s one fine woman. And I don’t speak of her looks. She’s got a golden heart.”
“What else can you tell me about her?”
The man pointed a beefy finger. “Why? I don’t allow anybody to harass that lady.”
Taken aback, Joey raised a hand. “Whoa! I won’t. I’m curious is all.”
The orderly considered him for several long seconds. “She lost her brother two years ago. He came in with both legs blown off.” He grimaced. “But man, that boy still fought for his life. In the end, his injuries were too serious. She’s volunteered ever since.”
When the guy left, regret choked Joey as he frowned at his arm. The one he might’ve lost. And didn’t. He had to see her—to apologize.
Two days passed before he heard her greet someone in the corridor. Ignoring the discomfort, he closed his Bible and returned it to the bedside table before calling her name. The voices stopped.
Click. Click. Click. Ruby stood in the doorway, stiff, wary, and gorgeous.
“Please, come in.” He motioned to the chair.
She huffed but settled onto the beige vinyl.
“I’m a bellyaching fool.” He fought the rise of emotion but pressed on. “I’m sorry. And I’m grateful for my life.”
Ruby’s expression softened as she approached his bedside and placed a hand on his. “Your forgiven and I hope I am, too.” She nodded to the Bible. “If you want to heal, that’s the best place to start.”
When she left with a flirty wave an hour later, Joey grinned. “I’m gonna marry that girl someday.”
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