Before the lesson had started, she’d placed a glass of water in the refrigerator to chill, as she always did. Now she pulled open the wide white Maytag door, and though she knew she should always conserve electricity, she paused, savouring the delicious breath of cold air that rushed out. After a moment, she grabbed the glass and shut the door. As she gulped the water down, she spotted a couple of letters on the kitchen table. Neither was from Gus, she noted miserably.
Ten years ago, a letter had arrived that had changed all their lives. It was a hot afternoon like this, and Dash, Gus, and she had just arrived home from school. As her mother picked up the envelope from the table, she’d asked them about their days, wanting to hear what they had learned and who they played with. There was so much more to talk about once they were eight years old, and Gus was already in grade five, which was even more interesting. While she listened, she opened the envelope. Dot still recalled the sound of her mother’s little gasp, the way her palm had rushed to her mouth. Without a word, she turned from the children and retreated upstairs to her bedroom.A little later, she came back down and called the three of them to the living room.
“I have some very sad news, children.”
Her eyes were red. She’d been crying. That was alarming, since she was almost always calm and happy. Dot leaned against Dash’s side for reassurance, and her mother reached for Gus’s hands. He looked uncertain, as if he should run away.
“Gus, I’m so sorry, but your father had a terrible accident today.”
“I will help take care of him,” Dot offered immediately.
That made her mother blink quickly. “I wish you could, Dorothy. But the sad news is that your father died, Gus. He will not be coming home.”
Gus stared at her, not moving. Dot and Dash stood on either side of him, unsure what to do. Dot had never felt so miserable.
“I’m sorry, dear,” her mother said.
Gus’s chin quivered, but Dot knew he would not cry in front of them.
“Thank you,” he said.
Then he turned and walked quickly to his bedroom, quietly shutting the door behind him. Dot knocked on his door a little later. He made a sound she couldn’t interpret, so she assumed he’d invited her in. He was lying in his bed, a pillow hugged over his face. Dot’s heart was in pieces for him. If she had been crying, she wouldn’t want anyone to speak to her, but she wouldn’t want to be alone, either. Maybe he needed her to listen. She was very good at listening. So she sat at the foot of his bed, not saying a word. Eventually, he lifted the pillow and looked at her. His expression was so despondent she started to cry. He sat up and pulled her into a hug.
“Will you go away now, Gus? Are you going to leave us?”
“I hope not,” he sniffed.
“I don’t want you to go.”
Meanwhile, Dash had been hounding her parents about the very same thing. When it was time for supper, her father put his hand on Gus’sshoulder. “I’m very sorry about your father, Gus.” Then he met their mother’s gaze. She nodded, and he continued. “We would like you to live here with us as you have been. What do you think of that?”
“Yes, please,” Gus whispered.
And so he did. He stayed with them until he turned eighteen, and then he went to war. Ever since then, Dot had been waiting to hear from him. They all had. His silence concerned her greatly, though she hadn’t mentioned that to Dash. Her sister was so deliriously happy, distracted by her flying lessons, she hadn’t talked about much else lately. In turn, Dot was deliriously happy that Dash hadn’t set off to work in the city, so she kept quiet about anything that had to do with the war.
But she did miss him. Terribly. She missed the reassuring smiles he’d give her when he knew she was scared or sad, and she missed the warmth of his hugs. Without them, she found it a little harder to cheer up.
And then there was the one other thing she wasn’t talking about. Not to anyone.
A few months before he’d gone away, Dash had come home all excited about a big dance coming up. It was for anyone over sixteen, so the girls were eligible to attend. Though it sounded exciting, Dot vanished into her shell at the mere mention of it. Dash never pressed her to come, but on the day of the dance, Gus had.
“You’re not coming?”
She was in the tire swing, and he was gently pushing her.
“I don’t know how to dance.”
“I could teach you. It’s not hard.”
She’d blushed, imagining that. To teach her, he’d have to put one hand on her waist and hold on to her other one. An odd curl of heat traveled through her belly, thinking of that.
“That’s all right. I’m happy to stay home and read. You go. Dash loves to dance with you. She says you’re very good.”
Gus grabbed the rope connecting the tire to the tree, stilling the swing. “I want you to come, Dot. I want to dance with you. I won’t let anything bad happen.”
It was impossible to say no to him when he looked at her that way. So Dash had dressed her up, and Gus had driven them in their father’s car, and the only time he’d left Dot’s side was to get her a refreshment. When the piano player started crooning “The Way You Look Tonight,” Gus had come up behind her.
“Ready to try dancing?” he asked, his breath tickling her ear.
