Keeping the Candy Counter (Grandma Jane Story #2)

The small copper bell fixed above the door rang sharply as Jane hurried in, just in time for her shift at Kress’ five and dime.  Her low heels echoed across the store as she headed directly for the candy counter.  The other girls, situated behind their counters, paused midway in their greetings; Jane was not herself.  They watched her remove her coat and hat and hang them on the communal coat hanger.  One coworker, Ruth, crept cautiously towards Jane as she fumbled to get her gloves off with shaking hands.  Jane smoothed out her dress, and with head kept toward the floor, began counting her till’s starting balance.  When she had finished recording the balance, Jane slammed the till closed.  She looked up and jumped back slightly when she saw Ruth standing silently opposite the counter.  Ruth could now see that Jane’s face was streaked with tears.  Ruth grabbed the white handkerchief from her pocket and offered it to her friend.

            “Who died?” Ruth whispered, leaning across the counter to stroke Jane’s arm.

            “No one,” Jane replied, dabbing at her eyes and inhaling deeply as her breathing returned to normal.

            “What is it, then?”

            “I’m engaged.” 

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After he received his draft notice, Norm headed to Fort Lewis.  Jane followed shortly after on a bus by herself to say goodbye.  While he was stationed with the Air Force in Oklahoma City at Will Rogers Field, the couple wrote to each other.  When it came time to join the war, Norm’s eyes didn’t pass, so he couldn’t fly.  Instead, he became a link instructor – someone who taught people to fly using instruments. 

Jane continued to work at Kress’, supervising the candy and cosmetics departments.  The job provided fifteen dollars per week – five of which went to her parents for room and board – as well as a social outlet.  Jane had good camaraderie with the other sales girls.  Customers paid for their merchandise at each separate counter.  Once they had a cash register contest and Jane managed to go two weeks with her till perfectly balanced.  “Not even a penny off,” she said. 

           

The items on the counter corresponded to extra supplies in the exact order beneath the counter.  That made inventory very easy.  The basement housed boxes of candy and quite a number of mice.  One time, they sent an order from the basement on a dumb waiter and it came up with a mouse on it! 

           

Norm and Jane talked about marriage before he left Yakima.  Sometimes an event so meaningful is heightened by the necessity of simplicity. I think about how people get carried away with weddings, spending small fortunes to make sure the dress is perfect, the cake is unique, and every guest leaves with something monogrammed.  The absence of those niceties brings a sacred focus on the purpose of the event – to commit two individuals to each other for a lifetime.  Without fanfare, Norm sent Jane a ring through the mail and she cried because he wasn’t there to give it to her. 

When Norm came home on leave, they got married.  It was December 7, 1944 and they were both 21 years old.  Jane wore a gold suit with a corsage instead of a bouquet.  Norm wore his Air Force uniform.  Jane’s best friend Mary Lou and Norm’s brother Vern flanked the couple.  They wed at a priest’s house because Norm wasn’t Catholic.  The reception was at the Gaudette’s house. 

            

Following the wedding, the newlyweds joined Norm’s parents and brother in their large Packard, back over the pass to Seattle.  The couple stayed at a hotel for one night, and then took a train to Oklahoma.  Because it was a special occasion, their honeymoon, they splurged on a compartment.  This included one room with bunk beds, a chair, and a sink and toilet in the corner.  They shared the bottom bunk, but Jane refused to go to the bathroom in front of Norm.  Instead, she used the public facilities down the hall.  Only servicemen could get meals on the train, so Norm got enough food for two.

           

When the Reids first arrived in Oklahoma City, they stayed in a hotel for three days.  Then, they moved into an apartment.  Norm went to the base everyday while Jane looked for a job.  She found work at Kress’ dime store, supervising the candy department once again.

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Jane held up her left hand, which glinted with a speck of diamond on a golden band.            Joanie shrieked and abandoned her cosmetics counter post, running over for a closer look. 

            “I didn’t know Norm was back in town!” Joanie grabbed Jane’s hand.

            “He’s not in town. He’s still in Oklahoma City.  The ring came in the mail today.”

Jane’s tears returned, and by now customers were arriving, milling around the store.  Most pretended to be engrossed in shopping, but a few bold ones stared openly at the scene.

            “Jane, you can’t expect everything to work out like a fairy tale,” Joanie dropped Jane’s hand, “We’re at war, you know.  Gosh!  If Edward would send me a ring in the mail, I’d be skipping around this place!”

            “I know, I know.  I’m crying because he’s not here to give me the ring in person.”

            “You’ll be together soon,” Ruth cooed reassuringly.

            Joanie and Ruth sandwiched Jane in a quick embrace and returned to their counters.  The day’s first customers needed their attention.  A young girl stepped up to the colorful mounds of candy and slid a penny across the glass.  Jane reached for the payment, and the girl’s bright green eyes lit up.

            “Wow.  Pretty ring.”

            “Yes, it really is,” Jane smiled with genuine joy, pushed the coin back, and measured out some butterscotch discs.  “Have a wonderful day, Sweetheart.”