“Don’t degrade your purpose, Lizzie. I needed you today, and you were there to put me back together.”
“And I’m glad I was there.”
“Say, how about a bite to eat downtown? I’m starving right now.”
Downtown. A place where everyone will see me and know who I’m with, and I forgot my darn scarf.
10
July 1941
With my handshielding the side of my face as Everett and I stroll back to the car, it’s clear I’m more concerned about someone seeing us than he is, but I’m the one who must encounter my father when I go home tonight. It’s completely absurd. I’m treated like a child, but I am falling right into the trap by acting as one. This could be the highlight of my life and may likely be the turning point that forces me to put my foot down and stand firm to Dad.
After we make our way back to the car, I notice a contemplative look in Everett’s eyes. He looks like he’s trying to figure something out, but I’m not sure what.
“I’m intrigued to hear why your father has such a firm dismay for you dating. I’m sure no father is ready to let his daughter move on with her life, but I imagine he wants you to find happiness and someone to share your life with.”
After all these years of living on base, I’m not sure I’ve had an encounter with a man so forward; one who speaks such strong thoughts out loud.
“I bet I know why,” he continues without allowing me a long enough moment to conjure a sensible reply to a nonsensical topic.
I suppose I would rather buy some time and allow him to guess at Dad’s reasons for always keeping a hawk’s eye on me. “What is your guess, Everett?” Maybe his assumption will enlighten me.
Everett slouches into his seat and relaxes his elbow on the window frame and his other hand on the wheel. “I bet you had a rotten experience with some fella here on base and your father can’t bear the thought of seeing your heart broken again.”
The story seems logical. Any other narrative would be too heavy for a casual night out. I offer a smile to respond without lying. “It sounds like you’ve seen a thing or two.”
“I’ve seen a few broken hearts, and I’ve had some scripts that had me acting like I had one myself, but in all honesty, I haven’t experienced it firsthand. From what I’ve seen, I think I’d rather spare myself that type of pain.”
“I can only imagine how many hearts you have broken, unknowingly of course,” I suggest, batting my lashes through a peep out of the corner of my eyes.
Everett slaps his left hand down to his knee. “Now, that’s unfair of you to assume. I have broken no one’s heart. If I’m not mistaken, a girl would need to share her heart with me for that to happen.”
I find his words hard to believe. Girls fan themselves at the mere mention of his name, so I can only imagine how many women would pay money to be sitting in this car with him right this second.
Everett finds his way to the center of town and spots a prime parking spot in front of the strip of restaurants we can choose from. He slides his sunglasses back on and straightens the collar of his pressed shirt. As he did earlier, he opens my door and offers his hand. Currents of nerves run with vigor through my blood as I imagine the look on each face we pass. I’m not sure who wouldn’t recognize him, even with sunglasses. He may think there are only a few people who know he’s living here now, but word has spread like a raging fire. It has been the highlight of chatter in every corridor in the hospital, the break room, training room, and even triage. I’m not sure how long he thinks his presence will go unnoticed.
“What’s good here? I’ve only been to the chow hall since arriving.”
“Well, what type of food do you prefer?” I ask, feeling his hand settle on my back as I take the lead.
“Authentic. I’ve been dying to taste the flavors of the island.” I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but what he might consider authentic here on base can’t compare to some smaller restaurants across remote areas of Oahu. However, if he hasn’t tried elsewhere, he won’t have anything to compare the food to, I suppose.
“If you enjoy seafood, you may like Honi Makai,” I say, pointing down the block.
“I do, very much so.”
For someone who could gain attention from anyone he desires, he’s quite laid back and easygoing. If I hadn’t seen him on the big screen with my own eyes, I wouldn’t be thinking past his appeal and poise. Instead, I’m bubbling at the mouth with questions about what it’s like to live as a movie star.
Honi Makai is rather empty, likely because of the film playing in the theatre next door—the precise location of where I am claiming to be. A few lingering looks from people passing by make me wonder if someone might say something to him. Maybe they aren’t sure he’s Everett Anderson, or they can’t figure out why on earth, of all people on this base, he would be out with Commander Salzberg’s daughter.
We’re seated at a small table toward the back of the restaurant, but against the wall-length window separating us from the sidewalk. Everett doesn’t lift his menu right away. Instead, he fixes his eyes on me, staring with a piercing inflection of wonder. “I’m not sure why I feel like I have known you much longer than a measly week. There’s something about you that feels familiar.”
“Is this another infamous line, Everett Anderson?” The flattery is hard to hide with how warm my cheeks feel, but I’m determined to figure out why this man would want to spend an evening with me. Any nurse could have fixed the wound on his temple today. Beyond that, who would find themselves attracted to the klutz of a girl knocking over shelves and a Spam display at the commissary?
He doesn’t seem offended or appalled by my question. Instead, he appears to stare harder, deeper into my eyes as if he’s trying to see my soul. I break our stare because the heat within me is almost too much to bear. My heart pounds and I refuse to be a fool for seeing tonight as anything more than a chance to say I went on a date with The Everett Anderson.
“Have you lived on Oahu your entire life?” he asks.
