That seemed to mollify Papa’s concerns.
“What are you doing home so early?” I asked.
Papa looked from me to Gray and then back again.
“Perhaps I should go,” Gray said, moving toward the foyer.
“No, please.” Papa put up a hand to stop Gray. “I think you already know what I’m going to tell Margaret. I’d like you to stay.”
Gray nodded and then looked at me. I straightened my back, ready to accept and support Papa’s decision. Though it made me worry, I would not let him see the truth.
“President Lincoln has recommended me for colonel, and the Senate has commissioned me as such. I am to command abrigade to guard the fords along the Potomac River. I will begin training immediately.”
I was thankful Gray had already told me the news so I could offer Papa a smile, which I did. I rose to give him a hug. “Oh, Papa. I’m so proud of you.”
“You’re not angry?”
I held him tight, thankful I still had him and my marked parents in 1941. “No,” I said. “I could never be angry at you. I know you are doing what God has called you to do. How could I be angry about that?”
As he embraced me, I could see Gray behind him, offering me an encouraging smile.
25
OCTOBER 19, 1941
LONG BEACH, CALIFORNIA
It had been over a month since I’d lost 2001, and I still woke up each day after 1941 expecting to be in my apartment in Georgetown, listening to Delilah’s eclectic music and rushing to work at GUH.
Instead, I found myself in 1861.
The first couple of weeks were the hardest, but slowly, as I devoted my time and attention to my work in 1941 and 1861, I was coming to terms with reality. I still longed to know what had happened after I was killed at the Pentagon, but I was content to know that I had said my good-byes. I had no regrets from my life there, though I would miss my loved ones and my studies. I prayed Delilah would find happiness and that my parents would take solace in knowing I had accomplished so much in my short time with them.
But today was a new day. The USSSolacewas docked at the Long Beach Naval Station in Long Beach, California, and we were slated to leave for Pearl Harbor in the morning. Tonight was another dance, the first we’d had since we left NewYork. Influenza had been ravaging our ship, and we’d all been given extra shifts to meet the needs. Many of the nurses were excited about the prospects of an evening off duty to have a bit of fun.
Anna, especially. She’d taken a liking to one of the medical officers, Dr. Timothy Church, an orthopedic surgeon who was not only handsome but also very kind. It appeared to be a mutual attraction, though they were doing their best to stay professional and aboveboard. But almost everyone saw the growing interest between Anna and Dr. Church and knew it would only be a matter of time before one or the other made the first move. No matter how much Helen cautioned us, it was impossible to keep love from growing.
I stood inside the mail room that evening. I hadn’t had time to pick up my mail in a few days, so I was pleased to see several envelopes. One had come from Teddy in England, another thick envelope had come from Mama and Daddy, and there was one from Grandfather Hollingsworth.
Leaving the mail room, I went out onto the promenade deck and found a chair. The naval station was loud and busy, and theSolacewas docked between two piers, so I was forced to look at another ship on the next pier, but I didn’t care. All I wanted was a bit of news from home.
I opened Grandfather’s letter first. He’d been seeing a doctor for his high blood pressure and had taken my advice to try the rice diet. He was pleased to report that he’d lost almost fifty pounds and was feeling better than ever, walking and exercising more frequently. I missed him but was happy to hear he was well.
Next, I tore open the envelope from Mama and Daddy, postmarked October 9. With our ship moving so often, it took time for the letters to find us and vice versa. I had written to my parents immediately after learning about my death in 2001 and wasn’t surprised to see Mama’s letter addressing my griefand concerns. But it was the last part that gave me the greatest sense of relief I’d felt since September 11.
There is nothing I can say or do to ease the pain you are feeling, Maggie. I remember my own grief when I lost 1775. I could not imagine how God could bring anything good from my circumstances, but He did. He was faithful to me, and He will be faithful to you. It’s hard to see the end from the beginning, but please know that you will have happiness again. I am certain.
After we received your letter, Daddy and I discussed the little bit we know about the future. I am only sharing this with you to ease your burden and worry. We both agreed a long time ago to tell you only what you need to know, and we have decided that this is something you need to know.
I never met my marked grandmother who lived in my 1700s path, but my mother spoke of her a few times, and one of the stories was about her path in 2022. She lived in Maryland in the 1720s and in the 2020s. Before she chose to stay in the 1720s to raise my mother, she was a student, studying journalism at Washington and Lee University in Lexington, Virginia. The summer before she turned twenty-one, she had an internship with a major newspaper in Washington, DC, and spent time on Capitol Hill and in the White House.
I’m telling you this to say that though the United States might have been attacked in 2001, it was not overcome. It continued on, at least until the 2020s. I hope you can take comfort in knowing that. It makes me sad that there was an attack in 2001, but if I know anything about the heart and soul of America, it’s that no matter what she faces, she has courage and resolve to get back up and keep fighting.
I hope and pray that you are finding comfort and joy inyour paths, and that you are taking pleasure in pursuing God’s purposes for your life.
You are such a blessing, Maggie. I love you.
Mama
