In love.

Friends at work would often encourage Jerry to join them and play darts at a local pub. It was at the pub that he met Connie, a quiet lass with a strong Yorkshire accent. One day, he noticed that she was watching his every move as he played darts with a friend, so he offered to buy her a drink. She accepted and it wasn't long before they had established a friendship.

Connie was petite, very pretty, had warm brown eyes, blondish natural curly hair, and a typical light British complexion. She had been moved from London to the small town of Otley at the outbreak of the war when she was fourteen years old. Her parents sent her to live with an aunt for safekeeping. Both her parents were killed in the bombing raids and their bodies were never recovered. The first time they sat together and ate fish and chips, he asked her about her past and she wept openly as she spoke of her folks. There were a lot of tears in London.

Jerry fell deeply in love with this soft‑spoken young lady. He loved everything about her, including her strong accent. She was different from the confident girls he grew up with back home. She was very reserved, and because of the loss of her parents he felt an empathy with her. When he put a comforting arm around her as she wept, it made him feel good. It uncovered a tenderness he had forgotten that he possessed. He loved the fact that she listened to him when he spoke, and he would often catch her staring at him for no reason as they ate lunch together. They were married in a small Anglican church not too far from Jerry's apartment.

To be continued...