ch: ted vanderway

It seems as though suddenly the Earth has fallen away from her feet. He explains to her, calmly and quietly so to better restrain his true emotion, and tries to take her hand when he’s done. “Laura, it’s only for a year.” But so much could happen in one year.

All the delicate lace and white lilies could never make up for the moment when he is dragged, kicking and hollering at the top of his lungs, from their wedding in the sun. Her sobs are the only thing that are louder than his screams. As she cries to her sister in the bedroom, all she can think of is his dirt-stained suit, the one they had worked so hard to save for. They never sent it back to her.

Her sister takes her to the park. Kate brushes her hands across Laura’s face, provides a shoulder to cry on, and offers reassuring words, but Laura is completely numb. She stares at old photos of his happy smile, tries desperately to imagine him right in front of her, rather than crawling on the ground in Vietnam. Kennedy was dead, Johnson thrilled for the war, and they had all sent her Ted to die.