Nancy returns to my side with a wild look of wonder floating through her glistening bronze eyes. “Is everything okay?”
I shrug and lean my chin into my hand, allowing my elbow to slide across the counter. “It was in January, but who knows if everything is fine now.”
Nancy releases a heavy sigh and places her hand across her chest. “Oh, sweetie, you went so long without a word. I don’t think you should assume the worst. You shouldn’t read these letters while staring at the date marked on top. The words were written by Everett at just a momentin time. Hearing his voice within your mind is what matters.”
I press a small smile into the corner of my lips, wishing I could accept what she’s saying, but my emotions are becoming weaker by the day, and at a time when I should be finding a new sense of strength each morning. I’m failing myself and my conviction to conquer this undertaking. “Thank you for your kind advice. I appreciate your uplifting thoughts,” I tell Nancy.
She glances down at her wristwatch and back up at me. “There are only a couple more hours until your shift is over. I heard there is an event tonight. That sounds like a delightful break for you girls,” Nancy says, pressing her lips into a tight line. I know she must work all night, and I I wonder if she was hoping to join us.
“Would you like to go? I don’t mind working your shift,” I offer in case that’s what she was hinting at. Though Nancy hasn’t gotten excited for a USO event like the other girls, maybe she needs to cut loose a bit too.
“Oh gosh, no, I am far too old for those events, but thank you for the offer. Plus, you work more hours than anyone else. You deserve a night out.”
“They’re certainly entertaining,” I tell her. I don’t see how everyone can shut off the troubles we’ve seen and lock it away during a night of entertainment. It seems I’m unable to mask the truth, even for a few hours. “Even more so if you’re the one watching all the others go bananas.”
“There is nothing wrong with taking it all in,” Nancy insists. “We will take our laughs from wherever we can get it, right?”
She sure has a good point on that. I’ve almost forgotten what it feels like to laugh.
40
March 1944
I feelfoolish sitting on the train that’s taking us to the location where the event is taking place. The other girls are dreaming about this perfect evening, fantasizing their wildest dreams playing out. I’m not sure I can think of a dream worthy enough of imagining, aside from the obvious, but I am also a person who keeps my focus where it should be.
Beverly nudges my knee with her toe.I glance up from the sight of my intertwined leather-clad fingers, wondering why she would be nudging me. My sight falls to her deep shade of red lipstick, and the pucker of her mouth. Her dark lined eyes narrow in on me and it’s clear she has a question.
“What’s the matter with you now? Why can’t you smile anymore?”
I shake my head, wishing to say much more than what I will respond with. “What is there to smile about, Beverly?”
Her mouth falls ajar as if I just shared the best gossip she’s heard this week. “You’re a crack up, you know that? Sweetheart, you need to find yourself a doll-dizzy fella who would love to put a grin on that face of yours. It will fix all your problems, I promise you.”
Everything Beverly says is rubbish, and I want to call her out on this bluff. I could point out the fact that she has been giving other men inappropriate attention when she still has Johnny at home. He may not be sitting around waiting for the day she comes home, or worse, he might be doing the same thing she is, but I don’t see the point in continuing a relationship if neither person is being faithful. Beverly has made it clear from the beginning that we will never see eye-to-eye on matters of the heart. I’ve just come to accept her ignorance. “While that sounds like a swell time, I’m not in need of a gentleman’s company right now, but I appreciate your concern.”
Beverly holds her gloved hands up and shifts her thin brows to the side. “My apologies,” she says. “Well, you look nice tonight—very European chic, and I don’t mean Eastern European—just, you know, fashionable.” Her comments can have many meanings, but I decide to assume the best case to avoid confrontation. Sometimes, I feel as though she pushes me to react, though. Her cat-like gaze scans down the length of my face, settling on the base of my neck where the chain of my necklace meets my collarbone.
“How nice of you to say,” I reply, shifting my attention to the empty sweat between Maggie and Isabel.
“So, did you read any of the other letters yet?” Maggie asks. Her eyes hold a sense of child-like wonder, wide with a glow of fantastical hope. She even has her gloved hands cupped over her heart—the true definition of a hopeless romantic waiting for Prince Charming to show up on a white horse and whisk her away. So far, she hasn’t come across any of these fairytale men while we were in London, which disappoints her since she thinks we were in the land of love.
“You’re savoring each one, aren’t you?” Isabel asks with a giggle. “I would probably do the same.”
“I read a couple, but they were short and just sweet reminders of times we shared before I left for the East coast.”
“Say, there’s a smile,” Isabel coos, pursing her lips. “I’m so glad you heard from your guy. It’s the little things right now, I understand.”
“Meow, Meow, Miss popularity. You heard from that nice boy? How come no one told me?” Beverly asks, smoothing her fingers along the end of her scarf.
“When have you ever pretended to care?” Isabel responds with a scoffing chuckle before turning back toward me.
“Of course I care. I think we all know how badly Lizzie needs to lighten up. Am I right?” She mutters the last of her words beneath her breath, hoping we hear her but likely trying to avoid a response.
Maggie and Isabel shake their heads at Beverly while I break away from the conversation to stare out the window into the dark, foggy sky.
* * *
The masses of soldiers, sailors, and Marines cram into this dim-lit, dank space underground. Chatter from so many people at once sounds like the hum of a car’s engine, growing louder the closer we get to the main function room. The moment we walk in, gawking eyes from every direction make me feel like a forbidden fruit these men have been kept from for so long. Any fellow who hasn’t had the need for medical care has had little or no interaction with us women. However, the American troops are fighting for the attention of the lovely British soldiers. The nurses are quite taken by the accents. Of course, none of these men will sit back and allow the British men to steal what they might feel is theirs, so the jealousy has not gone unnoticed as the number of local British women grow at each of these events. At least, it’s entertaining to watch, which is what I plan to do once I find an empty seat.
