“Come dance with us, Lizzie,” Isabel pleads, grabbing Maggie and me by the hands to pull us in the opposite direction from where I want to go.It’s no secret she’s ready to have the time of her life tonight, decked out in a black A-line skirt and her fitted, cherry-red button-down blouse. As a graduate of Wesley College, Isabel seems to have a sweet spot for mixers, a dance floor, and some good big band swing music. She’s gushed about the many dances she attended while living the collegiate life. She was part of the swing dancing club too and even has trophies to show for her winnings.
“Maybe in a bit,” I say, pulling my hands from hers. I do not have the same type of confidence on the dance floor. I didn’t attend those types of events in Oahu.
With disappointment lacing the girls’ eyes, they blow me a kiss and follow Beverly toward the excited men waving them over.
It isn’t long before there’s a host on stage, thanking us for continuing our civic duties. “We have a couple special guests for you tonight who want to show their appreciation for everything you are doing on behalf of the United States.” The host is an older man with a sharp tan and contrasting white hair that shines beneath the hanging lights. He’s in a pricey suit and his teeth are brighter than the napkins on the table next to me. Another gentleman runs out onto the risers and whispers something into the host’s ear. “Well, no kidding. Who would have known?” No one knows what the man is talking about since he’s only responding to the whisper into the microphone, but I suppose it’s part of the teasing gig while we wait to see who is coming out to entertain us tonight.
There is a bit of commotion out in front of the platform where the host is waving someone onto the platform. These boys will get a kick out of just about anything these events stir up. A crowd of sailors shoves a man up on to the high riser, coming face to face with the host.
“Holy moly, it’s really you, huh?” The host has the crowd chanting with pleas to find out who the mystery person is. The crowd is hooting and cheering as if Perry Como just showed up. “Ladies and Gentlemen, it is my great honor and dare I say, shocking revelation, to introduce you to none other than one of Hollywood’s finest picture people, Everett Anderson. Excuse me, Lieutenant Everett Anderson.”
My hands fly up to my chest as I clutch at the fabric of my blouse. They must be playing a joke on the crowd. There’s a light blaring over the man’s head, but I can’t imagine Everett would be here in Edinburgh. Surely, we would have found out we were in the same location by now. The lights swivel around, and my view becomes crystal clear as I spot the man I love, alive and standing in one piece. He’s staring out into the crowd as if the stage is unfamiliar to him when we all know it not to be the case.
“Sorry for the disappointment, folks, but I’m not the actual entertainment here tonight, but my buddies wanted to see me squirm under a spotlight before you find out who the true entertainer is.” Everett is blushing and seems embarrassed to be up on stage, and yet, here I am, frozen to my seat. The sound of whistles and hoots from the ladies here grow into a ferocious call toward Everett, but rather than accept the attention, he spins around on his heels and offers to shake the host’s hand. “I’ll let you get back to your introductions now,” Everett says.
I stand from my seat as if my body is floating above me and I take long strides toward the center of the room. As Everett is about to step off the platform, I call out to him. “Everett!” I realize my voice likely sounds like every other woman’s voice in this place tonight, and he hasn’t heard me speak in so long. I would understand if he didn’t stop to see who is calling for him. Plus, there are so many arms reaching out as he jumps down from the platform.
I’m not sure if he even heard me, but I continue pushing my way through the crowd, feeling like it’s been forever since I laid eyes on the man I love. The men in the front rows are all so tall and it’s hard to see much from where I am, but it helps when a small path opens between two sections of people.
My heart quakes so hard I feel like I need to press my hands against my chest. Am I dreaming? He’s more beautiful than I even remember. With far more muscles than he had and a harder look to the shape of his face, he looks like a matured version of the man I can vividly recall every detail of.
“Lizzie.” I don’t know if he is speaking my name out loud or if he’s mouthing the sound, but he sees me; that much is true. He sprints toward me, sweeping me off my feet as if I was nothing more than a rag doll. “My God, this isn’t real. Are you real?” he asks, his delight obvious through ragged breaths.
I cover my mouth, my hand trembling like a fish out of water because I’m not sure I can answer him without bursting into tears. I nod with a definitive yes and he pulls me in closer, feathering his nose against mine. “I can’t believe you’re in my arms.” His words are soft, raspy, and deep—the sound makes my heart blip. Everett’s lips onerously consume mine, and I forget how to breathe. I’m terrified that I am imagining this all.
The shouts, catcalls, and screeches surrounding us tell me this can’t be happening in only my imagination. This isn’t how life works. Dreams don’t just come true in this way, but if they do, I’m not letting him go. I wrap my arms around his neck, squeezing so tightly I could be strangling him. He lowers me down and loops his arm behind me, holding me against his chest where I hear how hard his heart is beating. I can feel the pulse against my cheek.
“I just got your letters today,” I tell him.
He stares down at me with disbelief. “I just got yours today too. We arrived here only a couple days ago. I didn’t want to come to this thing tonight, but my guys—”
“The other girls dragged me here too,” I tell him.
“Thank goodness,” he says, kissing me again. “Oh, Lizzie, I am overwhelmed and in shock. I can’t believe you’re here. I’m here. We need to leave right now.”
“You read my mind,” I tell him.
“But first, you need to meet my guys, and I want to meet your friends. Then we’ll tell them we’re leaving and not to follow us,” Everett says, sweeping his hand down the side of my face. I’m melting into the warmth of his arms, feeling alive again for the first time since I spoke to him last.
Everett takes my hand and pulls me toward the front of the crowd as he wraps his arms around my neck. “Fellas, this here, is my Lizzie. I didn’t know she was here. This is unreal.”
The men all look just as surprised as Everett. “This is your Lizzie?” One of them asks.
“This is my girl,” Everett says.
“Romeo, here, has not shut up about you in a damn year. We kept thinking he’d run out of things to say about you, but no, they just kept coming. We were wondering if you even existed or if our man was just losing his mind.”
One of the other guys slaps the outspoken one in the gut. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, sweetheart. It’s nice to see our Lieutenant looking a little less like a wet sock.”
“Everett, a wet sock?” I question.
“He is one lovesick puppy, Miss,” another says.
“All right. I think we are just about done here. I’m taking off. Will you fellas be okay finding your way back to camp?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Hot damn. I think the question is, will you ever find your way back to camp?” one of the boys asks.
