She was the only reason I almost faltered when it was time to go. What if she returned and I wasn’t there? But the truth I knew even then was, she probably never would.
As Janie regaled us with tales of her son’s new ability to crawl, I lifted my hand and grasped the charm hanging from a simple gold chain around my neck. It was the letterG. A gift from a disappeared friend to a girl who no longer existed. Whenever anyone asked, I told them the necklace had been my mother’s.
As the weather warmed, the city glistening with heat, I began to take walks, working on my strength and gait, pushing my endurance until I could walk two miles and return home with only a whisper of an ache.
“It looks good,” my doctor said as he put me through a number of tests, making notes in my chart.
“Does that mean I can return to work?” I asked.
“You’ll still need to be a little gentle with yourself for the next few weeks. Put it up at the end of the day, ice if it swells. But you’re cleared by me,” he said. “Obviously you’ll need to contact someone over on the base to get clearance on the military’s end, but as far as I’m concerned, it’s a yes.”
I grinned at my aunt, who smiled back.
“Guess we’d better make a call,” she said.
An hour later I had an appointment scheduled.
“Next Wednesday,” I told my aunt as I entered the elegant navy-and-gray office she shared with Uncle Frank on the main floor. “June seventh.”
She sighed. “I hate to see you go. It’s been so lovely having you home. But I know your heart is there. And I certainly know why.” She grinned and held out a hand to me, which I took in my own and squeezed. “I’m so proud of you, Kate.”
“You’ve taught me well.”
After dinner that night I pulled out the standard issue bag I’d been given and set it on the floor beside my closet. It was funny to think about what I’d packed the first time I’d gone overseas. Blouses that had gotten ruined, a pair of heels that dug into the dirt on one of the nights I’d gone out with Char, the strap on one breaking as I pulled my foot free. This time I’d know better.
For the next week I prepared for my trip, sure I’d pass any tests the military physician put me through with flying colors. I sent a letter to Char, Tilly, and Paulette, telling them I was nearly on my way, and on June fifth I met Janie and Claire for dinner to let them know I’d be shipping out soon.
“You’re so brave,” Janie said, her nose pink as she sipped her second glass of wine.
“I’m not,” I said. “I just want to help where I can.”
“But why not get a job working at one of the hospitals here?” Janie asked. “There must be lots of soldiers here that need help. Single ones too.” She winked.
It was an argument I’d heard from the two women before, their concern for my safety appreciated, but my deeper reasons for going weren’t something I could explain to them. Only my aunt and uncle really knew why I had to go.
“It’s okay to let the guilt you feel drive you to help others,” my aunt had told me when I’d made the initial decision to go overseas the year before. “But don’t let it make you stupid. Don’t let it make you blind to the very dangerous risks you are taking.”
I smiled at my friends and took a sip of my own wine.
“You just want me to babysit,” I told Janie, who laughed and shrugged.
“Maybe,” she said and then pointed at Claire. “Because this one never will.”
“I’ve seen what comes out of the back end of that child,” Claire said, wrinkling her nose.
Much to my relief, the subject matter moved to Janie’s son and after a while we said our goodbyes, me promising to let them know what the doctor said, and the two of them threatening to never talk to me again if I didn’t let them take me out one last time before I left.
“How was your night?” Uncle Frank asked when I returned home.
He was sitting in his usual spot on the sofa in the sitting room, a glass of bourbon in one hand, a book in the other, the shades and curtains drawn as they always were now once the sun had gone down.
I grinned and collapsed beside him.
“It’s so good to see them,” I said. “But they talk about such silly things.”
“I remember a time when you spoke of silly things.”
“I have never spoken of silly things,” I said, pretending to be shocked.
