Mama shuddered. “It’s one thing to know she’s not here—but it would be another entirely to know that she was gone completely. They are not safe yet. I’m sure people will be looking for them.”
Daddy took Mama’s hand in his own. “Let God take care of her, Maggie. He always has, and He always will.”
I loved my father’s reassurance. His steady, calm voice had eased many of my worries and fears over the years. But there was another fear I hadn’t faced yet—and that was the fear of saying good-bye to them.
“I don’t know if I’ll get a chance to see Hope before our birthday,” I said slowly, “but I told her I would choose 1692.” I lowered my gaze, not wanting to see the pain in their eyes.
“Are you sure that’s what you want?” Daddy asked.
“I want both. But I think I would have more guilt if I abandoned Hope now—especially if I didn’t get to say good-bye.”
“We should never be driven by guilt,” Mama said. “Conviction, yes—but not guilt. Guilt implies you did something wrong. Conviction is the knowledge that you need to do something right, even if it’s hard. You are not doing anything wrong if you choose 1912.”
I closed my eyes, both sad and frustrated.
“I’m sorry,” Mama said. “I don’t mean to pressure you. I just want you to know that either way, you’re not doing anything wrong.”
I nodded. “I know you understand what I’m going through.”
“Unfortunately, I do. And despite my parents’ advice and wisdom, it was still very difficult for me to decide.”
“Except,” Daddy said with a teasing gleam in his eyes, “you were choosing between me and that Navy doctor in 1941—so we know the choice was easier than you let on.” He winked at me.
“All that to say,” Mama said with a side-eyed smile at him, “I know how hard this is, but don’t let guilt play into it. Make your choice based on conviction and love, not guilt and fear.”
Conviction and love. I loved Hope in a way I would never love another human. We had experienced things no one else would ever understand. Yet I also loved Mama and Daddy—and I loved Luc, in a way I would never love another. And there was also Tacy to consider. We’d only scratched the surface of knowing each other. I wanted time with her, too.
But I had told Hope I would choose 1692. If I didn’t see her before our birthday, I couldn’t leave her without saying good-bye and explaining myself.
“I should get dressed,” I told them. “I’m supposed to meet Luc at seven to drive back to Long Beach to take pictures with the aeroplane.”
“Do you want us to wait to eat breakfast with you when you get back?” Mama asked.
“I’m not sure how long it will last.”
“Remember, we’ve been invited to a luncheon at Tacy’s.”
I nodded. “I won’t forget.”
I left their room and was soon dressed in the same blue linen gown I’d worn to Tacy’s house. I brought my flying suit along—since we were taking promotional photos—so I could change into it at the hangar.
Luc was waiting outside the Hollywood Hotel near a beautiful white Oldsmobile. He leaned against it, wearing a pinstripe suit and a straw boater on his damp hair.
The moment our gazes met, my stomach filled with butterfliesand warmth spread into my cheeks. I would never tire of the way he made me feel—both attractive and desirable. He saw me—truly saw me—and wanted more of me.
If only I could give him what he wanted—what we both wanted.
“You look beautiful,” he said, as he opened the automobile door for me.
“Thank you.”
He closed the door and leaned against it—his face close to mine. He smelled of shaving soap and the warmth of sunshine. His countenance grew serious, and for a second I thought he would kiss me, right there on Hollywood Boulevard for everyone to see.
And I would have let him.
Instead, he walked around the vehicle and cranked the motor, jumping into the Oldsmobile a second later.
We pulled away from the stucco-covered hotel, and I was thankful for my wide-brimmed hat. The sun was already bright as we drove toward the ocean, palm trees swaying in the breeze.
