Elnora: My Chosen Path

Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 1

Life’s a funny thing. When you’re young you have no real inkling as to the course your life will take. Your hopes, dreams, and fantasies for the future often have little to do with which path you end up following.

That’s how it’s been so far in my life. I was born Elnora Louise Ritchie, Summer of 1946. My early life was spent along the beaches of Southern California. I was raised in an upper middle class family, with all its pleasures and privileges. We were more fortunate than many of our friends in that we never had to want for much. Father held an important position in the Fidelity Bank and Trust. Although I didn’t actually understand what he did, I knew it was somehow important. I could tell by the way everyone at the bank referred to him as Mr. Ritchie, or Mr. Ritchie Sir., never as Edwin or Eddie as my mother often called him. On the rare occasions I was permitted to visit him at the bank I was always so proud of the way the other bank personnel treated him with such respect. That respect even seemed to extend to me as they greeted me with smiles and comments like Good morning Miss Elnora. You’re looking quite lovely today, Miss Elnora. While I waited for him to finish his work I’d climb up in his big padded chair. If I close my eyes I can still recall the smell and the softness of the leather. Father was a tall man over six foot, so when I was in his chair my feet wouldn’t reach the floor. If I pushed just a little with my foot on his desk, however, I could make the chair go round and round. Eventually Papa would say, Stop that, and sit like a lady, but I could usually get in a couple good spins before that happened. Our house was only a few blocks from the bank, so we walked. Papa would lift me up on his shoulders and let me ride all the way home. Those were special times, just my tall handsome father and me. I’d tell him, I’m going to marry you when I grow up! He’d just laugh and laugh and say, You’ll have to talk that over with Mother!

Mother’s name was Lida Lucille but the only time we heard that name was when father was annoyed about something. At such times you could hear His deep baritone voice calling out Lida Lucille! But he mostly just called her Lucy. She was the most beautiful lady in the world to me. Her hair was long and the color of gold. Her eyes were such a dark brown they almost looked black. When she was happy she could actually smile with her eyes. At barely five foot she and my father made quite a pair. Sometimes they would dance around the living room to music, with Papa holding her off the ground in his arms.

Mother had been a school teacher before she and Papa met, but after they married and she had the four of us she stayed home to take care of the family. Of course she was still active outside the house with the PTA, and helping out as a room mother at school, and at church in the children’s Sunday school. Mama was also busy with her ladies clubs. They were always sending things to the poor children of the world. (We children even donated some of our toys to the poor children.) I thought she sent the food we didn’t eat to the poor people, because she often told us to Eat your dinner, there are people starving in Africa. I was always confused by that. It seemed to me we should eat less, so there would be more to send them. Then there were girl scouts, boy scouts, dancing lessons, and Little League. She taught us how to sew, garden, bake and pray. She was amazing! Her voice was soft and lovely. We sang a lot, everything from nursery rhymes to hymns and show tunes. I remember she always smelled so good. Just the memory of the perfume she always wore makes me hum.

The rest of our household consisted of my grandmother Beswick (mothers` mother), my grandmother Ritchie (fathers’ mother), my two older sisters and my little brother. Both Grandfathers had died years before I was born. One died in the war, and the other from falling off the roof while trying to install a lightning rod. I heard that story every time we had a storm. Having two grandmothers in the house could have been confusing but we simply gave them nicknames. Grandma Beswick was Nana and Grandma Ritchie was Grandma Patty. We called her that because she was the one who played Patty cake with us. In fact, everyone in our home went by something other than their given names. My Oldest sister, Isadora Lucille, we called Issie. The next in line was Katherine Anne who we called Katie. My little brother Andrew James went by Drew. Then of course there was me, Elnora Louise. I was called Ellie, (Ellie Girl to my mama). I was a mixture of both my parents. From mama I received her dark brown eyes. From my father I acquired my eventual height of 5ft 9in as well as his auburn hair which I usually wore in a pony tail. The summer I turned thirteen I insisted on being called Elnora. It somehow seemed more sophisticated. After all, I reasoned, I was becoming a woman, not a mere child anymore. Being called Elnora only lasted for half the summer, then gradually eased back to Ellie by fall.

In a household where the females far outnumbered the males, my father and Drew had a particularly close relationship. I think they felt the need for a united front. In fact I overheard father telling mother one day that he didn’t know what he’d do without a son to pass on the family name. I think he felt that hunting and fishing were more appropriate for a son than a daughter. At least that was what I was told when Drew reached the age of seven. Since there were three years between Drew and myself, I had been Daddy’s little Tomboy till then. I was tall and athletic with a no nonsense attitude about feminine frills. I must admit I’d still rather spend my time in the outdoors than inside practicing piano or perfecting my needlepoint. Grandma Ritchie had insisted I learn to play piano, and Grandma Beswick insisted on teaching me needlepoint. She said all well brought up ladies needed to know needlepoint.

If I hadn’t loved Drew so deeply I’m sure I would have been terribly upset at being replaced as fathers’ sporting companion. Fortunately, the joy and amusement I felt watching Drews’ eyes light up, and his little face grinning from ear to ear as he raced through the house like a red headed freckled elf, more than softened my loss. Our house was a large brick two story, with a basement and covered front porch. It was fun watching Drew running up and down the stairs gathering his things for their adventures. In fact, while we girls referred to our father as Papa, he was always Pops to Drew. It was like they weren’t just father and son. They were somehow pals. This was a position we daughters, loved though we were, could never attain. Since Drew was also the youngest, and beloved by all his siblings, his special place with our father just seemed rightfully deserved, and therefore met with little or no resentment.

Life was easy. I enjoyed school with friends, lazy summer days with surf and sand. Lot’s of love and laughter were the norm in my world. I found my privileged existence to be perfectly agreeable with me and had no expectations of it ever being any different.

Like all my siblings good grades were expected and usually achieved. After high school I left the warm safe environment of home and moved into a girls’ dormitory on my University campus. After the initial homesickness wore off, I thoroughly enjoyed my independence. The world of academia quite agreed with me. It’s where I learned to spread my wings and became my own person.

Then I met Jonathan. Remember what I was telling you about how life’s paths sometimes don’t lead where you think they will? Well, here’s where my future plans take a different turn.

Chapter 2

It was my senior year, and having finally figured out what my father had done all those years, I was following in his footsteps and majoring in Business and Finance. My plans for after school were not only to be prosperous and successful like my father, but to be able to use my financial abilities to help the poor people of the world like my mother. I pictured myself with a large office in the business district of some metropolitan city. I’d drive to and from work in a fancy sports car. My home would be in a smart but not showy section of town, probably a 10th floor apartment or condo. Of course my future would also include a perfect husband, probably a lawyer or brilliant scientist, and beautiful intelligent children. That would not be for a few years though, after I’d established myself as a respected professional woman.

I dated a little here and there but nothing serious. Then, one day in the school library I ran into Jonathan. I don’t mean I met him. I mean I literally ran into him! He was carrying a stack of books, notebooks & papers. I was likewise loaded down and well… somebody should have signaled before turning the corner. Down we went along with a display of newly acquired student manuals. We landed back to back in the middle of it all.

Over my shoulder I heard an irritated male voice say, Geeze! Why don’t you watch where you’re going? With books and papers everywhere, he was slipping and sliding trying for his balance. I was having just as hard a time trying to get up.

While still facing opposite directions, I shot back. Me? Are you nuts? Why don’t YOU watch where YOU’RE going? Both of us were trying to gather up our respective belongings and grumbling.

Meanwhile, the Librarian, a tiny little white-haired woman of at least ninety scurried over to us with fire in her eyes and a Shush on her lips. What do you two think your doing? she spit at us in an angry whisper. Our attempt at an explanation met with yet another Shush! Pick up this mess, and be quiet! You people seem to think I’ve got nothing better to do than to clean up after your messes all day. Well, you’ve got another think coming if that’s what you think!

Three people at the table next to our disaster turned and said Shush in unison. The little Librarian straightened her back, turned on her heels and stomped off muttering. Well, I never! We both had to bite our lips not to laugh. Here, let me help you, the voice behind me said. It was my fault.

I turned and looked into the most beautiful blue eyes I’d ever seen. His hair was jet black, and though he was only a few inches taller than me, his muscular build made him seem bigger. I stammered that it wasn’t his fault at all and that I should have been watching where I was going. We were both trying to apologize when the same three people turned and loudly Shushed us. We looked at each other and in unison said, Well I never! which brought about more lip biting, as we tried hard not to burst out laughing. We were shaking and grabbing whatever we could reach. I had his, he had mine etc. We finally made it out the door and collapsed books and all in a heap on the grass grabbing our sides, tears rolling down our faces we were laughing so hard!

We eventually regained our composure and he said I guess introductions are in order. I’m Jonathan Robert Bratton. My friends call me John, but my brother Patrick calls me Brat. Well, I said (trying to look stern) after that fiasco in the library I can easily understand your brother. I think I’ll call you Brat! He put his hands on his hips and said, Well, I never! and started to stomp away, which once again had me laughing.

I introduced myself, and the next half hour was spent sorting through our disheveled papers while we compared notes on who was taking what classes, and generally getting to know each other. We discovered that the likelihood of us ever having classes together was pretty slim since I was in the Business and Finance department, and wouldn’t you know, he was studying to be a veterinarian, specializing in animal husbandry. He’d gone to a two year college right after high school, then he’d done four years in the Army and thanks to the GI bill he was now able to finish up his education and get his degree.

His plan was to move to some God-forsaken backwoods town called Willow Springs. It was just outside an Indian reservation in the wilds of Wyoming. He would be taking over the practice of the town’s one and only veterinarian. He also planned to do a little ranching and enlightening the locals with modern veterinary techniques. My impression was he’d be taking a step back in time to a simpler way of life. I of course, was looking forward to forging ahead into a more modern and sophisticated life style.

Still, I had to admit there was something about the twinkle in his eye and his easy laugh that struck a cord in me. A little voice in my head said, Forget it girl! This can’t go anywhere. You’re headed for a career in the banking industry. I’ll bet they don’t even have banks where he’s going. They probably keep their money under the mattress! So, when he asked if I’d like to meet up later I begged off, saying I had to study for a test.

He gave me a wink and said Well, maybe another time. Before he left he stuck out his hand and with a smile in his eyes, said very formally, It was very nice to meet you Miss Elnora, and if we never meet again… we’ll always have The Library."

I smiled and said Why thank you, Mr. Bratton, it was very nice to meet you too. When we clasped hands I thought my heart would pound out of my chest. It was like time stood still with us frozen in a handshake. I know it was only for a moment but it seemed forever. I stared into his eyes not wanting to let go. When the moment was over we both stammered a few awkward good-byes, and then he was gone. As I watched him walk away I could hear the same little voice saying, Elnora, get a grip!

Chapter 3

The next month came and went with no sign of Jonathan. Not that I was actually looking for him mind you. I just thought maybe I’d bump into him around campus. Ok, so maybe I did want to see him again. Maybe I did make a few more trips to the library than I needed to, hoping he would be there. It was getting close to Thanksgiving and everyone was gearing up for the Thanksgiving break. We’d had three days in a row of overcast and rain. Yes, it does rain in sunny California on occasion.

While running for the student union to duck in before the next cloud burst I slipped and fell face first into a puddle. I was lamenting the fact that my purse had spilled, as well as my notepad and book, when I heard a familiar voice saying Why Miss Elnora, I do believe you’ve gone and made another mess!

I felt strong arms encircling me, assisting me to my feet. There he was, Jonathan, and here I was wet and muddy. Not exactly the way I’d pictured our next encounter.

We gathered my things and got into the building just as the skys opened up. We made our way to the small cafeteria style coffee shop at the back of the building. It was crowded with other students taking refuge from the rain. Jonathan took a place in line while I went to the ladies room to try & pull myself together.

A few minutes later I returned somewhat more presentable thanks to the hand blow dryer. With it I was able to dry my clothes and hair to the point of being just damp, instead of soaked. I didn’t see Jonathan in line and I thought maybe he’d left, but then his smiling face and a wave caught my attention. Over here Elnora he called. As I joined him he said, I managed to snag two seats for us, but I didn’t dare leave them or someone else would grab em.

Hot chocolate had never tasted as good as it did that day. We talked and laughed for over two hours. We caught up on what had been going on since we last met. We both confessed we’d been haunting the library in the hopes of seeing each other.

Talking with Jonathan was so easy. It was like we’d known each other for years. He told me his parents had died in a car accident along with his younger sister. He and his older brother were raised by their grandparents on a dairy farm just outside of Boise, Idaho. His brother was married and he and his wife lived on the farm with his grandfather. He said after his grandmother passed away his grandfather had been so very lonely that his older brother Patrick and his wife Nancy decided to live there with him and to help with the farm.

After that rainy day we were inseparable. We’d meet for chocolate and a donut before classes. After classes we’d study together, grab dinner at a little Chinese restaurant that catered to the college crowd, which meant it was inexpensive. Even though money wasn’t an issue for me, Jonathan was on a tight budget. He was renting a room in a home that took in college students for reasonable rent. I was living in an all girls sorority house.

It wasn’t long before I was sure I was in love with this tall earnest young man with the easy smile. Thanksgiving was getting closer, and even though the idea of being away from Him for even a day made my heart ache, we decided we’d spend the holiday with our respective families.

I knew I’d have to break the news to my parents that my burning desire to set the business world ablaze had been replaced with thoughts