The question feels accusatory, and I hate to be reminded of silly rules. I cross my arms over my chest, feeling like I must defend myself. “Well, first, my father has forbidden me from joining the Army Nurse Corps. Therefore, I shouldn’t concern myself with the Army’s rule, correct? And if I’m not mistaken, women get married so they can start a family, have children. Since raising a family is quite far from my mind, there isn’t a need to get married despite my feelings for someone. The Army wouldn’t be able to tell me who I can love. Therefore, if I chose to enlist, being unwed is not an issue I need to be concerned with, right?”
“When did you decide to follow your father’s wishes? I thought you were still contemplating the Army Nurse Corps?”
I have gone back and forth on my thoughts many times, but a plan requires me to know what will happen weeks or months from now, and I’m not interested in thinking that far ahead. Life might take me in a completely different direction for all I know. “Well, who knows what will happen three months from now. I will not live as if I’m dying tomorrow. That’s absurd.”
“Your vision is blurry, Lizzie. These words don’t even sound as if they are your own. What has happened to you?”
I don’t have an answer because I see nothing wrong with what I’m saying. It’s true, neither of us knows what the future holds. Why should I make so many assumptions when nothing in life has ever gone as planned? My gaze drifts up toward the clouds in the sky, taking inventory of the shapes and patterns. A mere look into the blue oblivion will set my thoughts free, like a clenched fist releasing the string of a weightless balloon. Mom would often tell me this when upset over fickle things.
“Well, if you ask me, I say it looks like a flying elephant.”
I lower my head at the sound of a voice different from Audrey’s. First, I see my very best friend tenting her fingers on her forehead. I turn toward a voice that jolts my heart, finding another set of eyes gazing into the sky alongside me. “Everett,” I say, sounding more enthusiastic than I should reveal after one date. My cheeks burn in response to his dimpled smile.
“You are a hard woman to track down.”
“That’s because her father is Commander Salzberg,” Audrey replies before I find the right words to respond with.
“Audrey, right?” Everett offers his hand to her. “It’s lovely to see you again.”
I’m surprised to see Audrey shake his hand and respond with a smile. “I’m sure Lizzie feels the same about you,” she responds.
“Pardon me if I’m interrupting you, ladies. It’s not my intention.” There isn’t a need to feel that way, but Audrey is making this encounter far more intense than it needs to be.
“Don’t be silly,” Audrey says. “In fact, I was just about to find my bicycle. Lizzie, will you be joining me or—”
It’s as if I’ve forgotten how to speak or lost my tongue as I look between Audrey and Everett. “I—well—”
“Would you mind if I steal your friend for an hour?” Everett asks Audrey.
I can hear the word, yes, without her so much as uttering a peep. “Of course not. By all means, see if you can’t do something about this girl with her head lost in the clouds.”
I shoot Audrey a disagreeing look, wondering why she’s being so rude to Everett and embarrassing me at the same time. “I wish you would listen to me,” she mutters while leaning in for a hug. “Please protect your heart, Lizzie. You’re my best friend and I can’t bear to witness you go through any more pain than you’ve already been through.”
I squeeze her arms a little tighter than necessary. “I will be just fine. No need to worry, sweetie.”
“All right, then. Maybe I’ll stop by after dinner for some tea.”
“That sounds wonderful. I’ll see you then.”
“Everett, I hope you have a pleasant night,” she says, hopping down from the wall with her bag.
Neither of us speak until Audrey is out of sight. “Did I say something to upset her?” Everett asks.
“Oh, no. It’s not that.”
“Gosh. Then, what is it?”
“It’s nothing, I promise.”
Everett inhales a lungful of the floral filled air. “Well, then. Today is the first day I haven’t had training at this hour, and I thought I might catch you leaving class.”
I take my satchel from the wall and place it over my shoulder. “I suppose I didn’t think about how hard it might be to run into each other again. Although it looks as if you still haven’t had those sutures removed.”
“You said seven to ten days, if I’m not mistaken,” he responds.
“Most people show up on the seventh day.”
“Well, truth be told, I’ve become quite attached to them.”
