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https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5xZ4lGEYqLU

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Montclair, New Jersey, a Mid-June Thursday morning, 1919

Margaret shivered a bit even though she sat in a fairly warm cross-breeze on the long porch of the hotel. And at only nine in the morning, she was already tired; weary in fact from their long trip.

“Shall I get you some coffee,” her sister Daphne said as she rose from her chair.

“Yes, please,” the girl said as she rearranged the gray-green tartan blanket covering her legs. Her hands were shaking a bit and the blanket slipped from her grasp. She struggled to retrieve it but it was just out of her reach.

“Here, Miss. Let me get that for you.” She turned to see a tall handsome young man kneeling on the porch beside her. He stood and carefully draped the blanket over her knees, but not before noticing her chair – a high-backed wicker wheel chair.

“Can I get you anything?” The young man’s smile was disarming, but Margaret shook her head no. His smile turned to a half-frown. He stepped back and nearly into Daphne, who had returned with a tray with a Silver coffee pot along with two cups with saucers as well as a plate covered with cookies.

“Beg, pardon, Miss.” The young man’s face grew red.

“No need, young man. That was very kind of you to retrieve my sister’s blanket.” She smiled and placed the tray on the table between Margaret and her own empty chair.

“Join us for coffee?” Daphne pointed to the tray.

“Daph? Gosh, I'm sorry. I’m really tired.” Margaret pointed to the tray and looked at the young man.

“Why don’t you use my cup,” she said in a near whisper. The young man went to protest but Margaret waved him off.

“I insist. I was about ready to retire to our room before our trip to Philadelphia tomorrow.” She motioned to the young man to sit down next to Daphne. As he sat down, Margaret smiled and winked at her sister before waving at one of the hotel boys walking past. Daphne looked at her in puzzlement.

“Would you mind helping me to my room, young man? There’s a good lad,” Margaret added as she reached underneath the blanket and produced a dime from her dress pocket.

“Yes, Miss,” the boy said as he stared at the dime in his hand; graciously bestowed before he had even set his hands to the wheelchair. She waved at her sister and in a few moments she was gone.

“I…I couldn’t help but notice. Your sister? The chair?” The young man asked even as his face grew red once again. Daphne noticed the uneasiness in his voice and touched him gently on the arm.

“My sister often finds that people are so afraid of the answer that they forget that it’s a really a considerate thing to care enough to ask. Margaret was in an accident last summer.” Daphne began to tear up. The lie was becoming easier to speak, but it was for everyone’s sake that the truth remained hidden.

“She lost her right leg in an accident. She’s only just recently begun to get out. It’s been doubly hard since she lost someone at Belleau Wood.” Two statements not entirely untrue . Daphne wasn’t feigning the sadness. Life had changed dramatically for them both but with the help of the almighty in a way and an Aunt who was one of the few practicing women Physicians stateside, life would be as good as it could be.

“I’m so sorry.” The young man said. He grabbed Daphne’s left hand and noticed she had discarded her gloves, revealing a wedding band.

“Oh… I lost my husband in the war,” she gasped only a little for effect. The young man’s expression was a mixture of sadness and obvious disappointment. Daphne noticed and spoke.

“I don’t suppose Margaret and I will ever remarry. We are widowed and barren, and our heartaches… And to move to an entirely new place? I’m sorry. I hadn’t meant to be so personal.” She sighed. She hadn’t indeed, but the past year was the worst year of her life… for Margaret as well.

“I am so sorry for your loss.” He stood, but continued to hold her hand.

”May God truly comfort you and your sister,” he said before kissing her hand, a kind, almost reverent parting.

“Thank you,” Daphne said in a near whisper. He nodded and walked away.

That evening…

The weather had turned unseasonably cool and two figures huddled on the bed beneath two warm comforters.

“I’m so….soreeee,” Margaret shook as she sobbed. Daphne pulled her close and began kissing her tears away.

“I am sad some days, but I am happy that you are with me, no matter what. I couldn't stop thinking about you all afternoon. In sickness and in health? For better or worse?”

“He was very handsome,” Margaret turned her face to the wall. Daphne pulled her back around and shook her head no while displaying a sad frown.

"Nonsense!" Daphne protested. Margaret turned away once again.

“It should have been ‘til death do us part,” Margaret sobbed.

“No, never. I knew who you were before. You’re just more of who you’ve already been.” Daphne began to cry. Margaret touched herself and then Daphne's stomach.

“See…I have left you without a future,” Margaret said; her own sobs echoing Daphne's.

“I’m crying because I nearly lost everything I ever wanted on that field in France.”

“You wanted children.”

“Yes, but I am complete with you.”

“I’m no man.”

“No, you are not. But you are the one I love and you are most definitely the person I married.” Daphne pulled Margaret close and hugged her as she resumed kissing the tears away from Margaret’s cheeks.

“What … what will we do?” Margaret looked away.

“We will finish our move to Philadelphia and first thing Monday morning we will open the bookstore like we had always planned to do. And first thing that evening we will sit in the parlor in our new home and read to each other. And the last thing we will do that night before we retire will be to thank God that although Lieutenant Martin Hennessy died in France, Margaret returned home to me. Well... the next to last thing...Alright?”

Daphne’s voice assumed an almost childlike lilt like a lullaby as she spoke once more before turning out the light.

“So the the world outside our doors, ? The Hennessy sisters. But in the quiet of our home? To us? To love? To cherish?’" Margaret remained quiet and Daphne’s eyes widened just a bit in expectation, as if to say,’well?’

After a long silence, Margaret nodded with an increasingly calm assurance and spoke.

“To cherish.”