“I promise,” he answered. He had promised the same thing to Becky the night before when they lay huddled in her bedroom, his body pressed against hers.
He had not wanted to get up from her bed and leave her. The curve of her body was so beautiful. He lifted his hand and traced her silhouette from the top of her shoulder, through the dip in her waist, to the cliff of her hips.
“Becky …”
Her face was half-veiled by the curtain of long chestnut-colored hair. She leaned in closer and adjusted her bangs so he could see her face more clearly. Her green eyes were smooth as stones from a river. Her expression just as calm.
“What if I don’t come back?”
His heart hurt inside his chest. He didn’t want to believe this might be the last time he held Becky in his arms.
“Don’t say such a thing,” she said firmly. She pulled him close and kissed him on the mouth. Her lips were so soft and gentle, he had to force himself not to cry.
In this naked moment of intimacy before he left, he wanted to shed everything that weighed on him. He wanted to tell her he was afraid. He didn’t want to come home in a body bag. He didn’t want to lose a limb and spend the rest of life in a wheelchair. But he couldn’t come undone in front of Becky. He wanted her to think him strong and invincible. He wanted to be seen as brave.
He shifted the conversation to the practicalities and tried to gather himself. “You’ll check in with Ma while I’m gone?”
“Of course,” she said, as though it was a given.
He was happy she was continuing her education. He would be away for nearly two years, and she would focus on her studies. No one would be a better teacher than his beautiful Becky. Jack could already imagine her in front of a classroom with all the children looking up at her with adoration.
What he didn’t say to her was that when he returned,if he even did return, he was going to ask her to marry him. They had been datingsince the beginning of senior year, when he finally worked up the nerve to ask her to homecoming. That afternoon he felt like he had won the prize. Becky Dougherty. The girl that lit up the homecoming parade with her perfect white smile and gentle wave. He would soon learn she liked all the things he liked. Rock and roll. Jelly donuts. Buttermilk pancakes and movies at the old drive-in on dollar night.
Now that Jack’s last hours in Allentown were slipping away, everything seemed suddenly crystal clear. Becky was the woman he wanted to have children with. He had never been good in school like her, but their children would take after her. They’d be smart and beautiful.
If he got home, their life would be good. They’d be perfect together, like a slice of pizza and an ice-cold Coke. He pulled her close again and felt her heart beat next to his chest.
“I love you, Becky.”
He would remember always how she told him she loved him. She put his face between her palms. Kissed him again, this time so deeply, he felt her warmth spreading through his entire body. He made love to her one last time before getting dressed.
As he zipped up his jeans, she stared at him from the bed. “I’m going to write to you every day, I promise.”
“Who even knows what the mail will be like.…”
“Of course there will be mail, Jack. I’ll send care packages, too.”
“Don’t worry about me. I’m worried about my mother. I’m worried aboutyou.”
“I’ll be fine. She’ll be fine.…” She rolled onto her back and stared at the ceiling. “You’re the one that we’ll both be worrying about.”
She placed a flat palm on her belly, where minutes before he had kissed her.
“My mom saved all the letters my dad wrote to her when he was in Germany. I’m going to save every one you write, too.”
He had forgotten until Becky mentioned it that her father had been in World War II. He had died when she was five from stomach cancer. Her mother had remarried a few years later, but Becky had showed him a photograph of her father dressed in his Army Air Corps uniform when they began dating. “I have only a handful of memories of him,” she confessed as she held the portrait. “But in some ways, he’s still my hero. I only wish I had the chance to get to know him better.”
Jack was grateful she hadn’t brought up any anti-war sentiment when he learned he was being shipped off. So many of the kids going off to college were already engaged in protests. He would have hated spending his last days with Becky fighting about whether America should be in the war. He loved her more for not making his departure feel worse than it already did.
He was now fully dressed. He tucked in his shirt and sucked in his breath. He gazed upon her nakedness one last time, trying to commit it to memory.
“Promise me, Jack—you’ll come back in one piece.” She pulled herself to her knees and extended her arms, beckoning him over, lassoing him around his neck. Planting one last kiss.
He knew she wouldn’t let him go until made the vow. But in his mind, he couldn’t help but imagine the photographs printed in the newspapers and the footage that was broadcast on every major news channel. Body bags hoisted onto helicopters, tarmacs lined with coffins draped with American flags. He bet each and every one of those men had made promises to their mothers or girlfriends that they’d come home in one piece.
“I promise,” he said. He loved her so much. The words were uttered like a gift.
He spent eight weeks in basic training at Parris Island, then eight more in infantry training in Camp Lejeune before being given his first leavehome. Needing more live bodies in the Marine Corps, someone at a desk somewhere had made the executive decision to make him part of that prestigious group rather than including him with the rest of the men drafted into the army.
