Her words encouraged me, and for the first time in over a month, I felt hopeful for my loved ones in 2001. I missed them and would always miss them, but at least not all was lost for them.
Daddy’s letter was much like Mama’s, though he didn’t reiterate the news she had shared, just mentioned it. They both assured me that they were praying for us as we neared Pearl Harbor and told me again that no matter what I chose in January, they gave me their full blessing.
I finished reading my letters and went to my stateroom to destroy the two from Mama and Daddy. Anytime a letter contained information about the future, I had no choice.
As I was changing into a dress for dinner and the dance, Anna entered the room. She was smiling in that quiet, secret way of hers since meeting Dr. Church. I was sitting at the desk, putting on a pearl necklace, and caught a glimpse of her reflection in the mirror. Her cheeks were glowing, and she didn’t seem to notice I was even there.
“How are your patients today?” I asked her.
She blinked a few times and then smiled. “Everyone seems to be on the mend. I hope the influenza outbreak is subsiding.”
“I think it is.” I applied a bit of lipstick and pressed my lips together. “And how is Dr. Church?”
Anna’s cheeks blossomed to a deeper shade of red, and she ducked her head. “You’re not supposed to know about that.”
I laughed and turned to face her. This was the first time she had shown interest in another man since Richard. “Is it getting serious?”
She put her hands to her face, trying to cool her cheeks. “I don’t know.”
“Has he said anything to you?”
“He doesn’t have to.” She sat on the edge of her bed. “But there is so much tension and ... and awareness when we’re together. Words are unnecessary.”
I thought of the tension and awareness I felt with both Zechariah and Gray. I had been giving myself a bit of time to heal after September 11, but I had lost another month and was no closer to knowing what my heart wanted.
“Perhaps he doesn’t have to speak for now.” I smiled at her happiness. “But eventually you’ll want to say something to each other.”
“I think he’ll say something tonight, at the dance. I plan to make myself available for a little chat, maybe on the promenade deck under the moon.”
Thoughts of my own conversation with Zechariah on the promenade deck made my cheeks warm. Theawarenessbetween us had intensified since we’d spent the day in Panama City, but I’d been so overcome with grief that I hadn’t pursued conversations or time alone with him. He continued on as before, though perhaps not as gruff with me as he’d once been. Would we talk again tonight? Would he even attend the dance?
For the first time in a month, I was excited about the prospect.
After dinner, the nurses made their way to the ballroom. It was hot and stuffy, but all the doors and windows were open, allowing a cross breeze to filter through the room. The military band was already playing popular songs, and it didn’t take long before every nurse, including Helen, was swept away to dance with an officer.
It was while I was dancing to “Alexander’s Ragtime Band” that I noticed a new arrival to the ballroom. Zechariah had come, looking handsome in his uniform.
He stood near the door and did not speak to anyone else as his gaze scanned the room. I focused on my dancing partner, a lieutenant who had just been promoted, and decided to let Zechariah come to me, if he so chose.
I danced for two more songs, purposely not looking in Zechariah’s direction. Finally I saw him approach. He arrived at my side the same moment as an ensign did. When Zechariah looked down at the ensign without saying a word, the junior officer turned on his heels and left.
“Do you dance, Dr. Philips?” I asked, a bit surprised.
“As a rule, no.” He stood before me, looking more out of place than I’d ever seen him. Every muscle in his back was tense. It was taking a huge amount of effort for him to be part of the crowd. “But I know you enjoy it, so I’ve learned.”
“You didn’t know how to dance before?” The band began playing “It’s All Yours,” a foxtrot by Tommy Dorsey.
“I never learned to dance at boarding school,” he said as he looked at the band, apprehension in his gaze. “But I’ve recently read all about it.”
A grin broke out on my face as I thought of him studying a book, trying to memorize the dance steps from diagrams and pictures—for me.
“Will you dance with me, Maggie?” he asked.
“Yes.” I approached him, put up my arms as if we were going to waltz, and waited for him to join me.
He took a cautious step, wrapping one arm around my waist while clasping my hand. We were closer than we’d ever been before, and I was very aware of how tall and broad he was, of how his large, gentle hand lay against my waist, his fingers tightening just a bit.
He seemed very aware of me too.
