8. Jean and Ralph Discuss Their Future
That evening, after dinner, Jean and Ralph slipped out of the house and almost automatically headed down their favorite path to the banks of the small river. They held hands as they walked. There was no need for talk. Each felt warmly secure in the presence of the other.
Jean didn’t trust herself to speak until they had reached the river. Every time she started to say something, the loneliness of the past months welled up in her and tears came to her eyes. Then she would clasp Ralph’s hand harder, as if to reassure herself that he had really returned.
Ralph chuckled as they came to the river bank. “It’s really me, darling,” he said softly. “I know how you feel, because I feel the same way.”
Jean laid his hand against her cheek and let a few pent-up tears fall. Ralph cupped her chin in his free hand and smiled at his beloved tenderly.
“Tears for me?” he asked softly. “My little Jeannie, you mustn’t cry!”
Jean smiled and nodded. “It’s foolish to spoil your first evening at home this way.” She shook her head as if to forbid further tears.
Ralph laughed. “It’s not spoiled. If anything, it’s enhanced. You know, when you love someone as much as I love you, it’s hard to believe that she can care so much for you. It’s wonderful to find out.”
She grinned. “But there’s so much to talk about, Ralph! So much has happened in the past two years which we have to talk about. Tears don’t say anything!”
Ralph laughed again. “They say plenty, Jeannie. But if we must return to the world of mundane facts, let’s hear about your past two years.”
She giggled. “So my activities seem dull to you,” she teased.
Ralph tousled her curly hair. “You’re a flirt, aren’t you? The feminine mind can be so illogical!”
Jean sat down under a tall maple tree. She leaned against Ralph’s shoulder. “Now tell me,” she said. “Something happened while you were abroad which is bothering you. I could see it in your eyes all the time you were talking with the family.”
Ralph picked a blade of grass and put it between his teeth. “It’s strange how one can be impressed by having a new light thrown on something which he always knew but which never seemed important before.”
“Yes?” she asked.
“You know what my ranch in Saskatoon is like, don’t you, Jeannie? I mean, you know what the land is like.”
“I know you have grain and some live stock....”
“And that a lot of my land isn’t cleared of forests as yet?”
She nodded.
Ralph drew his pipe from his coat pocket and lit it. “About once a year I get a letter from the government asking me what I plan to do with my uncut timber. I never paid much attention to it before. I liked having the trees there. It was good for the soil. But I saw something in Paris which has changed my mind completely.”
Jean looked at him in surprise. “What could happen in Paris that could affect your forests?” she asked.
Ralph laughed. “This, my dear, is a good lesson in the size of the world today. I live on an isolated Canadian ranch. But I have the power, out there, to help or hinder businesses all over the world. That timber I have should be cut and shipped to wood pulp manufacturers. But let’s start at the beginning.”
Jean giggled. “That would help,” she admitted.
“You remember, I wrote you about attending the newspaper convention in Paris last fall?”
Jean nodded.
“I wish you could have been there. Newspaper men from all over the world, except from behind the Iron Curtain, attended it. It was marvelous! Journalism professors from midwestern universities in the United States rubbed shoulders and exchanged ideas with editors from Iran and Tasmania. Believe me, it was a conference of tremendous importance! I attended it, because I was in Paris to investigate crop production of central France, and a friend of mine invited me to attend.”
“You wrote something about the conference, I remember,” she said.
“Well, all these editors have the same complaint. There’s not enough wood pulp in the world to furnish the newspapers with newsprint. In a way, it’s wonderful, because that indicates that countries are printing more papers. And that new countries are insisting on better and bigger papers. Egypt, for example, has more newspapers than ever before. And, of course, one of the first projects Israel, as a new country, undertook was the establishing of fine papers.
“But we must have more wood pulp! As long as each of these countries, large and small, can have their papers, this world is comparatively safe. These papers can carry news ... facts of the world ... right to the doors of all the people in the world. Then, the people themselves can decide what is good and what is bad in this world.”
Jean sighed. “It sounds like a tremendous undertaking.”
“It is! And, Jeannie, if you could have seen those men! Arabians, who have been literate for only a generation, were demanding free press for their people. Mexicans pleaded for more newsprint to help educate their people. The Israeli, of course, put the need for communications, the need for stimulating the minds of their countrymen, above almost everything else.”
Jean nodded. “Now I begin to see.”
Ralph threw away the blade of grass. “Of course I can’t do much with the small forests I own. But I’ll do everything I can. When I get back to Saskatoon, I’m going to start the largest project of timber cutting and reforestation I can possibly undertake. You see, Jeannie, Canada and Norway are practically the only countries in the world who can produce wood pulp. If the job is up to us, then we’ve got to do it.”
Jean nodded solemnly. “Then that’s what you were doing in Norway,” she said.
“Well, I had to go there, anyway, on business. But you can be sure that I checked on the story of their wood pulp supply pretty carefully. It isn’t too good. They do what they can. But Canada is so much larger and has so many more forests.”
Jean suddenly giggled. “I’m intrigued with the idea of your being a lumberjack.”
Ralph smiled. “I’ll be one; you’ll be one. The children will be chopping timber as soon as they learn to crawl!”
She shook her head. “You know, dear,” she said, “we all have to contribute to this life in the way we’re best equipped.”
Ralph nodded. “That’s true,” he agreed.
She smiled in spite of herself as she said, “I’ll be glad to buy myself a pair of spiked hightop boots and become a lumberjack, if you say so. But there is something else I can do better.”
“And that is?” he asked.
“I’m almost ashamed to tell you now,” Jean confessed, “because I’ll be consuming paper rather than making it.”
Ralph chuckled. “That’s what it’s made for. Now, tell me.”
Jean told him of the plans which Dr. Barsch had made for her. How she would take a correspondence course in art after they were married, and how, when she finished her course, she would contract to do sketches of operations at a nearby hospital for the medical publishers.
Ralph thought about the plan for a few minutes. “It’s a very good idea,” he said gravely.
“You see, medicine and improved operative techniques are important, too,” Jean said slyly.
Ralph chuckled. “I can’t deny you,” he grinned. “You know, there’s a small hospital about five miles from the ranch. It’s a very good one, and I know the board of directors there very well. I think they’d like the idea. I’m sure we can arrange it.”
“Then you don’t mind my working after we’re married?” she asked.
Ralph shook his head. “One of the reasons I fell in love with you, Jean, is that you seem to thrive on being busy. There’s something so sturdy about you and your family. Take your father, for instance. I saw a lot of men when they came out of the Army in bad shape. But I never saw one who was more miserable because he couldn’t be working from dawn to dusk every day.”
Jean sighed. “He’s like a different man now that he is working again. Poor Dad! None of us even suspected how hard his invalid days were on him till they were over.”
Ralph nodded. “You haven’t told me all the details of this new job,” he said.
“Well, it’s very simple,” Jean explained. “You see, two years ago the town decided to back a veterans’ housing project. Dad offered to be the architect for the project. After years of inactivity, he was nearly out of his mind. And of course he was terribly interested in anything to help the young men and their families.”
“Of course,” Ralph said. “I remember that part. He was just starting the assignment when I went abroad.”
“It’s taken two years to complete the project,” Jean said. “There were some difficulties. A lot of people didn’t want low cost housing in town. And then some ... well, I think they’re just plain bad people, were afraid the project might attract new people to the community. You know, minority groups and,” she giggled, “even non-New Englanders.”
“But the project did go through,” Ralph said.
“Oh yes,” she cried. “Those foolish people were definitely in the minority themselves. It finally was accomplished in the good old New England tradition of a town meeting. The few ignorant objectors were laughed and hooted right out of the meeting, too.” She smiled at the memory.
“But to get back to Dad,” she continued. “After he had finished designing the houses for the project, he was swamped with orders. And eager as he was to fill them, he was very intelligent. He insisted on very regular checkups with Dr. Daley, our internist at the clinic. But everything went just fine. He seemed to get better all the time. So now he’s opened his own office, and he’s busy all the time.”
“That’s marvelous,” Ralph said. “I can’t remember ever seeing your father look so well.”
Jean smiled tenderly. “I guess that about brings you up to date.”
Ralph put his arm around her. “Good,” he said. “Now, let’s talk about us. Seems to me I hear wedding bells in my head. How about you?”
Jean giggled. “My, what a tender proposal!” she teased.
Ralph drew back in mock horror. “But I’ve already proposed!” he protested. “Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten?”
Jean laughed. “As if I ever could forget,” she admitted frankly.
“But I think we ought to set a date.”
“Let’s see,” she said, deliberately teasing him. “I’ll have to check my appointment book, but my plans go something like this. I will be graduated late this summer. And then, as far as I know, I haven’t anything special planned.”
“You, ma’m, are an idiot!” Ralph laughed. “Very well, we shall plan a fall wedding—”
“Right here in Elmhurst,” Jean continued.
“You bet! Where else?” he wanted to know. Then he became serious. “I’m glad you’re going to be so busy this summer,” he added. “Because that will make the time pass more quickly for us both.”
Jean grabbed his hand. “You’re going away again,” she said suddenly.
“Only for a little while.”
“Oh, Ralph!” she cried.
Ralph squeezed her hand. “This time, only for a few months. I have to go to Ottawa, of course, to make my report to the government on my trip abroad. After all, they sent me. I have to account for their money.”
Jean nodded miserably.
“And then I have to look up the government contractor for my wood pulp. Jeannie, I must get that arranged so that I can sleep easily at night.”
She nodded. “I understand. I mean, my mind understands. But this silly old heart doesn’t understand one little bit.”
Ralph drew her to him and kissed her. “That silly old heart you’re wearing these days is mine, you know. Maybe that’s why it doesn’t understand. I wouldn’t want it to.”