“Of course,” she said.
She retrieved a bottle and glasses and began pouring. Once they were all seated, Jerry studied the table crowded with food, unable to ignore the two empty chairs. He swallowed, unsure how to ask about his cousins.
John felt no such compunction. “Where are the boys? Is it all right to ask?”
Aunt Judy nodded. “We’ve been so blessed, your uncle and I. They both came home early.”
Jerry dropped his gaze to the tabletop. There was only one reason men came home early from the war, unless they were in a coffin.
“What happened to them?” John asked.
Uncle Henry’s expression was pinched. “Walter got hit by mustard gas. It was touch and go for a while, and he spent a few weeks in a hospital in England. Took a while for his eyesight to come back, but thank God it did.”
“It’s in his lungs now,” Aunt Judy said quietly. “The doctor says it’s chronic bronchitis, and it’s permanent. You’ll hear him coughing a lot, and he gets short of breath.”
Her husband nodded. “But he’s been keeping busy with therum-running lately, making good money. Charlie is down to one leg and one hand, and he’s nearly deaf, but it could have been worse.” He looked fondly at his wife. “Judy’s been helping Charlie learn to write with his left. His penmanship was so bad before I can’t really see much difference.”
“Rum-running?” John echoed.
Aunt Judy’s smile was contrite. “It’s not legal, but there aren’t a lot of other jobs available, to be honest.”
“Michigan’s dry,” Uncle Henry said. “You knew that, right? The rest of the States will be soon, but for now it’s just here. A man can make a lot of money running booze to the Americans. Your dad was starting to do pretty well at it. You might want to look into it.”
Jerry could practically hear the wheels turning in John’s mind. The idea would be right up his brother’s alley. Running booze might even be up Jerry’s alley, but he couldn’t think about that yet. His grief was too raw. He stared at the table, leaving the talk to his brother.
“I’ll tell you what,” their uncle went on. “When you’re ready, the boys’ll come over, take you out on the town. There’s a lot to do in Windsor these days. Prohibition’s changed everything.”
Aunt Judy placed her hand on Jerry’s. “It might be good for you. Help you get your mind off things for a little while.”
“You could hit a couple of blind pigs, see what it’s all about,” Uncle Henry agreed. “Walter and Charlie know where to go. Hell, the two of you deserve to have some fun after everything.”
“I’ve heard that term,” Jerry said. “Blind pig. What’s it mean?”
“A juice joint. Same as a speakeasy but for working stiffs.”
“Meaning?”
“Meaning according to the law, no one’s allowed to drink booze in public anymore, but you are allowed to head into a tavern and pay to be entertained by a blind pig or a talking bird or whatever they have going on in there. Or else you pay to get fed. If you’re at a speakeasy, you have to dress nicer, and you’ll get dinner and entertainment while you’rethere. Either place, while you’re at it, you’ll receive a complimentary drink or two.”
John turned a hopeful smile toward Jerry. “We should go.”
Jerry let out a long breath, then nodded. Life went on, after all, despite everything. He just had to keep moving forward.
“Tomorrow night. Tonight, we got somewhere to be. We gotta say goodbye.”
eightADELE
— November 1918 —
Portsmouth, England
Adele clutched at a lamppost at the end of the dock, her other hand pressed firmly on her wide-brimmed hat, bracing against a cold blast of wind. The war was over. Everyone was going home. The General had seen the tents being taken down, and after pacing nervously for two days the little cat disappeared mysteriously into the night. The empty hospital tent had been packed up and sent away, taking the long-dried bloodstains and echoes of agonized cries with it. Where did someone store an old hospital? Adele wondered vaguely, tugging her coat tight around her. After all the years it had stood strong, protecting those within, what was it good for now?
The weather was miserable, the wind and rain making a bad day worse, and the dark water around the Portsmouth docks was laced with white. Adele reminded herself the war was over, that there were no moreU-boats or torpedoes to fear, but all she could think about were Minnie’s last moments on theLlandovery Castle.
“Come on, Delly!” Hazel shouted from the ship’s deck. “It’s raining cats and dogs! Lillian’s already inside. Let’s get out of here.”
“Coming,” Adele replied, not moving.
