Chapter 10• The White Violin

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APRIL 1944

Alan Clark was finally home after three long years in France, he had been sent home due to an injury in his arm. It was messed up pretty bad but he was one of the lucky ones. He lost so many friends and people he cared about but he knew that they would be honored for the great work they did. The people they were able to save. His leg anxiously bounced up and down as he waited for the bus to come to a stop. He was almost twenty now, young, still new to the world. To love. As he watched the window, he thought about his high school sweetheart and prayed to God that she had waited for him just as he had for her.

Wilma Porter nervously played with her hands as she waited at the bus stop. Each moment that passed she could feel her heart speed up, it got to the point it was going so fast, she thought it would have to skip a few beats to level out. But she knew the second she saw his face again, without a doubt it would. She turned to face the older man that drove her down there.

"Ed, thank you so much for taking me down here," she said with a grateful smile.

"Of course, doll. You're so edgy, ease up a bit. I'm sure my boy is just as nervous to see you as you are him," he smiled and shook his head. Last time he had seen two people so in love, it was at Earnest and Margareta's wedding. Wilma smiled and put her hand to her wavy, blonde hair before smoothing out her dress.

The pair waited for a couple more minutes, Ed smiled slightly at how nervous his soon-to-be daughter-in-law was. Then the bus finally appeared and the other families and lovers of people returning today all stood up, many with tears in their eyes. Wilma looked around trying to find Alan, due to her short stature she couldn't quite look above the heads of others being reunited.

"Wilma Jean!" Her heart stopped as she heard the voice of her soul-bound. When Alan saw her in that beautiful yellow skirt, he could've sworn he was in Heaven so he called out her name. They met in the middle, he grabbed her by the waist with his left arm, the other being in a sling.

"Wilma, I thought about you every day for three years."

"Oh Alan," she swooned.

"No, no wait. Let me finish. I love you Wilma Jean and I don't want to spend another moment apart from you," he got down on one knee. Wilma's hand flew to her mouth and she choked back a sob. "Please don't cry because I haven't started yet." Wilma laughed and muttered an apology. Alan took her hand in his good one and continued.

"I know this is sudden, and I don't have a ring because I've been in France for three years but... I can't imagine another second without you. So, Wilma Jean Porter, will you be my wife?"

"Yes Alan, of course, I will." There was applause from the other people at the bus stop, including Ed who bore a bright smile. Everything was falling into place.

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