“If I deploy to Europe, yes. If not, I will be fine. Either way, I am an American signing up to help our military in their time of need. This isn’t something I want to worry about until I know more about where I will be training. I’m sorry. I appreciate your concern, but there isn’t much to worry about at the moment. And I ask that you not enlist for the hope of somehow protecting me from the evils in the world. I love you for thinking like that, but I will be fine. I’m sure of it.”
Audrey places her teacup down next to mine on the coffee table and leans forward to pull me in for an embrace. “I will always worry about you. We’re like sisters, and the thought of you being in danger cuts through me at my core.”
“This is my destiny, wherever it may be, however long it might last, and whenever it comes to fruition. I need to do this for me.”
“I know.”
“Think about traveling the world and meeting lots of new people and seeing the sights we could never imagine.”
“It doesn’t sound like the worst way to spend the next few years, but I’m not one who chases the unknown down a dark road, Lizzie.” Audrey laughs to highlight her words as a joke. Though, I know it isn’t a joke because it’s true and it’s the way I prefer to live.
“You do what will make you happy and then when we have found our happiness and peace in the world, we will find each other again and it will be like no time has passed,” I say.
Audrey releases her arms from around my neck and pinches her hand around my chin. “I wish you could promise this,” she says.
I can only promise today. It’s that way for everybody. She knows how I feel about defining a future no one can foresee. I would love to tell her about my guilty little dream of having time to move to Georgia with Everett before I’m assigned to a unit, but I could only imagine what her thoughts would be on that matter, and Everett’s overheard orders must remain private for now.
30
January 1942
The hoursof conversation felt like they used to between Audrey and me. I missed the days where we lost track of time while catching up on life, and though we still have our opposing views; I feel like we understand each other better now and I needed that comfort to take with me for whatever comes next—even if it’s just supper with Dad, James, and Lewis tonight. Everett has to attend a meeting with his colonel, and he expects it to go past supper time. I assume he’s finding out the relocation information that I overheard this morning.
He said he would try to call me later and let me know what happened. At least I can assume it won’t be any more shocking than what we’re already thinking. Scalloped potatoes, boiled chicken, and green beans—it’s been the same several times in the last two weeks. The stores are not replenishing food items and staples in a timely manner or with a good quantity when they do. There’s a shortage across the country from what I’ve heard. A lot of panic will clear the shelves fast. The older generations fearful about another great depression and the younger generations haven’t experienced war time yet. Though I’m part of the younger generation, I know all too much of what life was like during the first world war and there was a legitimate reason to stock up on supplies and canned goods. Predicting what will happen the next day is impossible.
“Chicken,” Lewis says as he walks through the front door. He removes his cap and hangs it on the coat rack. “I’m sorry, kid. I know you hate chicken.”
“It’s fine. I’m also making gravy,” I tell him.
“You’re too good to us, Elizabeth. I don’t know what we’re going to do without you here.”
“Well, at this rate, who knows when I’ll be going anywhere. Maybe they passed on my application.”
“If that’s the case, you’ll have time to find out who James’s new girlfriend is because I’ve been trying to figure it out for the last week and he won’t even give me a hint. He’s not coming home for supper tonight. That’s all I know.”
“I can only imagine what he has up his sleeve,” I reply. James does not have an outstanding track record with women and never brings them home for that exact reason. He finds the lame dames, as Lewis and I call them—the ones who bat their extra-long fake eyelashes and have their bosoms hanging out of whatever outfit they squeeze into. These girls want a sailor, and they are not shy about going after one. The hot tickets end up being a young eighteen-year-old daughter of a sailor or soldier.
“There’s a chance she could differ from his usual selection. Heck, maybe that’s the reason he’s keeping her a secret from us.”
“It’s not like we embarrass him,” I respond, “not all that much, anyway.” I can’t help but snicker. Maybe we pick on James more than he picks on either of us, but there isn’t much else siblings are good for.
We place the jokes on pause when Dad walks through the door. Until we know what kind of mood he’s in or what type of day he had, we tread with caution.
“What’s that in your hand?” Lewis asks.
I didn’t notice the envelope in his hand when he walked in through the door, but it doesn’t look like work he’d bring home—not something sealed up the way it is.
“What’s in my hand?” Dad repeats, then removes his cover to hang up next to the other on the coat rack. “This is what Elizabeth has been awaiting.” Dad walks up to the kitchen table and drops the envelope on top of the hot plate where I plan to put the chicken. The contents create a loud slap which breaks me free from my stare at the enclosed documents. “Go ahead. The envelope contains your orders.” Dad’s tone sounds like a lesson in the making, and my stomach reels with nerves as I take the couple of steps over to the table. I retrieve the official envelope and slide my finger beneath the seal. My heart is pounding with anticipation, eagerness, and a dose of fear. It hasn’t felt quite real until this moment.
“Do you already know what’s inside this envelope?” I ask Dad.
“It doesn’t matter,” he responds.
I pull the papers out and scan down the top sheet. “I will report to Fort Devens in Massachusetts for active duty and training with the 2nd Evacuation Hospital on January 21,” I speak aloud as I read the information, trying to digest the words, and meaning.January 21. I step into the kitchen and lean toward the new Coca-Cola calendar I gave Dad for Hanukkah a few weeks ago. “The date is just a week and a half away—a week from Wednesday.”
Dad takes the papers from my hand and scans them as if needing confirmation. He nods his head as I watch his eyes moving from left to right over and over until I flip to the second page I hadn’t gotten to yet. I shouldn’t be in a state of shock. At least, I shouldn’t be acting as if I’m in a state of shock. I knew this was coming. I volunteered.
I’m most likely leaving before Everett has to go.
