by James Young
“Oh look, it’s the chaste lovebirds,” she snarled. “Am I disturbing you? I’m sorry, but for some reason I thought you two would be sitting on the couch looking deep into each other’s eyes as you maintained exactly the proper distance of good little boys and girls.”
“Jo, I don’t know what’s going on…” Patricia started to say, self-consciously starting to arrange her hair.
“Oh, well, let me fill you in, oh dear Tootsie,” Jo snapped. “Whereas your flyboy seems quite happy to try his hand at landing on your deck, your brother is treating me like the whore of Babylon. I was thinking it was a family trait until I came in to find you guys apparently just having finished a friendly game of doctor.”
Patricia went pale as a sheet.
“Why you bit…” she started to say, before Charles grabbed her shoulder.
“Jo, I am ashamed of you,” he said, even as he brought the shaking Patricia in.
“Oh where do you get off?!” Jo snapped at him. “You’re busy trying your damndest to deflower the world’s most naïve virgin here, and you have the nerve to tell me that you’re ashamed of me?”
“Yes, I do,” Charles replied, his Missouri accent thick. “Because I thought you were a far better woman than the type that throws stones. Patricia’s never tossed them at you.”
Holy shit, he actually means it, Jo thought. Well, guess my day is suitably complete.
“I’m sorry,” she sobbed. “I’m so sorry.” With that, she ran past the couple to her bedroom, closing the door behind her. Changing out of her clothes, she flopped down onto the bed, quietly sobbing as she looked up at the ceiling.
Well, I’ve gone and made a fine mess of things, she thought once she was cried out. Guess I’ll be putting a want ad for another roommate in the paper before too long.
With that pleasant thought, she started to roll over when the door slowly opened. Realizing it was probably Patricia, justifiably with a butcher knife, she turned to face the entryway. Seeing that it was indeed her housemate, albeit unarmed, she rolled away to face the wall.
“You know, most people wouldn’t be standing here right now,” Patricia said coolly. “That was a very hurtful thing for you to say to me.”
Jo gave a short laugh that sounded crazy even to her.
“Oh, I’m sorry oh Saint Patricia,” she said sarcastically. “I’ll try to be less hateful next time my heart gets ripped out by your brother in the future. That is if you’re even still wanting to live with me.”
Jo could hear Patricia coming over to the bed and steeled herself for a fight, rolling back to face her roommate.
I’m giving her one free lick…I’ve insulted her that much, Jo thought. But after that I’m going to show her having four older brothers is nothing compared to fighting another woman.
To her shock, Patricia pulled up a chair, sitting with her arms folded on the top of it.
“I’m no saint, Jo,” Patricia said, quietly. “I’m just a woman who realizes that she owes a lot to you and your father. One who also realizes that her idiot brother said some very, very hateful things, which is why he gets to eat Navy mess food for awhile, as long as that is.”
Jo was shocked, so much so that she didn’t start when Patricia reached over and teasingly closed her mouth.
“I asked him what happened,” Patricia continued. “My mother would skin him alive if she knew what he’d said, and I will not have a brother who treats my best friend like that.”
“Patricia, I…” Jo started.
“Even if that best friend is acting like a hypocrite,” Patricia stated coolly.
Well, guess I’m still not off the hook, Jo said.
“I’m not…” Jo started to defend herself.
“Oh? Isn’t that what they call someone who cries about being judged yet rushes to judge someone else who may or may not have done the same thing?” Patricia asked, raising an eyebrow.
Jo sighed, realizing Patricia had her boxed on that one.
“For the record, not that it’s any of your business, that did not happen,” Patricia said. “Charles is, despite what you apparently think, a perfect gentleman. He’s also going to sea next week.”
“Oh Jesus,” Jo said, sitting up and reaching to hug her friend. Patricia stopped her.
“If there’s one thing you’ve taught me, it’s bawling my eyes out every time someone leaves is going to make my eyes very sore before this war is over,” Patricia said. “I might need you whenever he leaves, but I want to try and stand on my own…it’s something a very good woman taught me.”
Jo sat back down, looking at her friend.
Somewhere in the last couple of months, Patricia’s grown up, Jo thought.
“While you were in here, Nick came by also,” Patricia said. “He’s becoming executive officer of the Plunger.”
“When?” Jo asked, feeling her face pale.
“‘Soon,’ he said in that voice Navy men seem to take when they’re trying to keep secrets,” Patricia said, pulling an imitation of the tone in question. “I don’t know how soon, but he’s about to ask Agnes to marry him.”
“Get out of here,” Jo said, smiling in excitement. “Little ol’ Nick? Ladies man of ladies men?”
“Yeah, Mr. “I don’t want to be set up” himself,” Patricia said, laughing. She grew sober. “Speaking of engagement, I think it’s time we cover why Eric’s being a bit, hesitant, shall we say.”
Jo held up her hand.
“Patricia, we don’t have to…”
“In case you haven’t noticed, I’m most of my brother’s confidantes,” Patricia said. “Everyone except for Eric, that is. He was always happy to play dolls, chess, or games with me, but when it came to telling me anything, forget it. That is, until a half hour ago while you were still in here hating yourself.”
Jo sighed.
I’d apologize again, but we both know I’m sorry and it’s just wasting breath saying it again at this point, Jo thought resignedly.
“So, with that being said, you can imagine my surprise when he started to spill his guts about his last relationship and how it was affecting this one,” Patricia continued. “Let me just say, if I ever should happen to cross paths with one Joyce Cotner, I’m clawing that bitch’s eyes out.”
Whoa, I’ve never seen Patricia this upset, Jo thought. I hope I never break Eric’s heart, I don’t look good with a cane and dog.
Patricia regained her composure, visibly forcing herself to brighten.
“Anyway, it appears that Ms. Cotner and my brother became lovers,” Patricia said. “It seems to be a funny way of thinking with my brothers—that ‘ring on the finger’ doesn’t seem to have to be a wedding band for them to sew their wild oats.”
“I think that’s far more common than you think, Patricia,” Jo said. “Especially in time of war.”
“I once thought that if my mother ever found out, they wouldn’t have to worry about that problem, or that act, ever again,” Patricia stated. “However, I’m not a math whiz, and I know nine months before February is barely the month Mom and Dad got married.”
“I thought Sam and David were premature?” Jo said slyly.
“Right,” Patricia replied deadpan. “Because they both look like babies that were early and sickly.”
“But your mother’s not here,” Jo said, “and I guess that means we know why Nick bought an engagement ring today.”
Patricia stopped, her mouth making an ‘O’ of shock and terror.
“Oh no, I’ve got to…” she started to say, standing up. Jo grabbed her arm.
“Agnes and Nick are big kids,” Jo said quietly. “And in case you haven’t noticed, probably more in love than any other couple you can think of.”
Patricia sat back down, obviously still wanting to run off and save her brother’s virtue. Looking at her, Jo finally started to snicker.
“What’s so funny?!” Patricia asked.
“Nothing, except you are so obviously the only daughter in a house full of
boys,” Jo replied. “It’s humorous to watch.”
“You’re not amusing, Jo,” Patricia said, then composed herself. “But anyway, Eric’s reticence is because he’s afraid that you’ll leave him just like Joyce did, and believe it or not we Cobbs aren’t exactly fond of collecting bedpost notches.”
“Gee, so wholesome I could be ill,” Jo said, getting a look from Patricia.
“Anyway, that’s why he’s afraid to really do anything with you, despite your apparent willingness,” Patricia said. “Which I’m understanding a whole lot more of, by the way.”
“Oh?” Jo asked, giving Patricia a suitably skeptical look.
Nothing happened my ass, Jo thought.
“I know what you’re thinking, and I’m serious, I will still be wearing white on my wedding day,” Patricia said with a great deal of pique.
“Will that be white, or an off cream?” Jo asked, widening her eyes innocently.
“Do you really want to know?” Patricia asked, her voice calm. Jo looked at her, in shock, a feeling that quickly evaporated.
“Because if you really want to know, you can ask God when you get to Heaven since neither one of us is ever going to tell you,” the youngest Cobb snapped.
Jo shook her head.
“Look, let’s go make dinner, you ninny,” she said. “It’ll be nice to have just the two of us for once.”
“Yeah, actually,” Patricia said. “I can tell you about my growing love affair with Edgar Rice Burroughs.”
Tacoma, Washington
1730 Local (2030 Eastern)
20 May
The Green Clover was a modest restaurant, by any stretch of the imagination. Consisting of a single-story, roughly L-shaped building with booths all along the short end, tables the length of the long end, and a kitchen in the slightly thicker link, the diner specialized more in traditional American than Irish cuisine.
Well this place isn’t exactly inspiring confidence, Adam thought as he crossed the threshold.
“Come on, Adam,” Norah said gently. “Tabitha warned us that the décor might look old, but the food is to die for.”
Looking over at his date, Adam gave a wan grin.
“You know, I have a problem saying no to the most attractive woman in the room,” he stated solemnly, causing Norah to color.
“Well I’ll let her know that when I see her,” Norah replied with a smile, self-consciously running a hand through her curled locks. Let down to the shoulders of her homemade but well-tailored blue dress, the hair do only accentuated the attention the nurse was receiving from the establishment’s mainly male clientele.
The only reason I’m not putting that Army sergeant’s eyes back into his head is his wife looks like she’s about to rip his balls off, Adam thought, giving the man a hard look. Sweet Jesus, how did I not notice she’s a damn knockout while we were riding up from Kansas.
The sergeant looked like he wanted to say something until he fully read Adam’s expression. It took a moment, but the older gentleman realized the relatively plain gray suit, blue shirt, and gray and red tie was more than offset by military bearing. Narrowing his eyes, he turned away from Adam’s gaze and fixed his companion with a glare that matched hers. To Adam’s disgust, the woman looked down at her plate.
“You’re not doing her any favors even if you broke his jaw,” Norah said lowly. “I recognize the type.”
Before Adam could respond, a harried looking hostess finally came up to greet them.
“Y’all need a seat for two?” the long-haired, slender brunette asked in a deep, rich Texas accent that surprised both Adam and Norah.Her nametag said Leslie. Adam did a doubletake, giving her a strange look.
“No, your ears aren’t playing tricks on you, I’m from Amarillo,” the woman said. “I guess you get nice, wet and dreary for nine months out of the year when you marry an Irishman.”
Adam and Norah both chuckled at that comment, Adam because he knew quite a few Irishman and Norah because it didn’t take that much of a journey back up her family tree to find people from the Emerald Isle.
“Actually, we’ll take a booth for two,” Adam said. Looking around, he suddenly realized what was missing—cigarette smoke. As they walked towards their booth, he remarked on the especially clean air to Leslie.
“Kinda hard to open a window when you’re basically underwater,” Leslie replied in response to Adam’s query, gesturing towards the rain coming down in sheets outside. “Since the kitchen smoke is bad enough, we sure don’t want to have people having to decide whether to cough or chew.”
“Can’t argue with that,” Adam said.
Although I can’t imagine it’s good for business, Adam thought. But what clientele you get are probably very loyal.
“Why are there so many military men in here?” Norah asked as Adam let her sit down in the booth first, then took the bench with his back to the door.
“Honey, this is the best food around Fort Lewis and McChord Field,” Leslie replied. “Trust me, if a man ain’t married and doesn’t want to go out and get drunk, they come here.”
“Well, we brought our appetites,” Adam replied. Leslie smiled at that.
“I’ll send Debbie right over,” she replied. “Do you guys want anything to drink?” Adam looked at Norah, indicating for her to go first.
“I’ll have a Coke and a glass of ice,” Norah said.
“I’ll have coffee,” Adam replied.
“Good enough,” Leslie said, obviously committing their drinks to memory before she pulled out two menus, put them on the table, then moved swiftly back towards the door. Adam saw Norah regarding him as they both sat down at their table, the woman placing her head on her linked hands.
“So, Mr. Haynes, what have you been up to for the past three weeks?” she asked impishly. “Because I could have sworn that someone fitting your description said that he would take me out to dinner almost a month ago.”
Adam diplomatically cleared this throat, somewhat embarrassed as he thought of something to say.
“Uh, I was flying?” he joked weakly.
“So, the Marine Corps is testing a flying submarine?” Norah replied in a chiding voice. “Because I’m quite interested to hear how they plan on using that.”
“Dear lady, I am starting to wonder if you are a spy,” Adam said in a mock British accent. “Well, I guess that would be in league with my previous luck in love.”
Norah winced even as she laughed.
“That’s a rather bitter way of looking at things, but I guess if you can laugh you’re obviously feeling better.”
“I have present company to thank for that,” Adam said earnestly, his sudden seriousness throwing Norah off. “Who would have known that reading the Grapes of Wrath would prove so fortuitous.”
“Somehow I don’t think you would have been staring at me like a walking T-bone steak even if you hadn’t been reading, Adam,” Norah said.
“No, probably not,” Adam replied. Debbie, a slim brunette who looked like a younger version of Leslie, chose that moment to arrive with their drinks.
“Y’all ready to order?” she asked, her accent confirming that the two women were somehow related. Adam and Norah looked at each other sheepishly, realizing their menus were still unopened. Debbie smiled broadly, then reached down for her notebook.
“You guys want to just have the special? It’s corned beef with glazed apples and mixed vegetables,” Debbie said.
“Sure,” Adam and Norah said simultaneously, causing Debbie to laugh.
“So how long have you two been going out?” Debbie asked as she wrote. Norah blushed as Adam looked sorta sheepish.
“This is our first date, actually,” Norah said. Debbie flashed a knowing smile at that one.
“Well, hopefully we’ll see you guys back here next week,” she said, putting her notebook in her apron pocket. “I’ll be right back with your plates.”
“So, do you like Washington better than Florida?” Norah asked, sipping her soda.<
br />
Adam gave her a slightly bemused look.
“Yes, because I’m always happy to be living like a fish,” Adam said.
“Silly man, I meant the change of commanders,” Norah replied. “Besides, the humidity just actually falls as rain here. I’m told Florida is like taking a bath with your clothes on.”
“Touche. I guess I can’t complain about the change ,” Adam stated. He searched for something he could tell Norah without revealing war information. “Found out that I’m really getting too old to play football against the mechanics.”
“You play against the enlisted men?”
“Yes,” Adam replied, somewhat surprised at her question.
“I thought officers and enlisted weren’t allowed to fraternize,” Norah said. Adam raised an eyebrow, surprised at her knowledge.
I truly hope I’m the only man you’re seeing right now. While he had no one to blame but himself if he wasn’t, but that wouldn’t make it any less painful. Norah looked at him, smiling even broader.
“You know, every time something starts to bother you, you put on your poker face,” she chuckled. “I mean, I’m sure it works with people who don’t know you very well, but if someone’s been around you for more than a couple of days it’s pretty easy to tell.”
Adam wiped the blank expression off his face and spitefully replacing it with a full, broad grin that caused Norah to burst out into genuine laughter.
“Is this better?” Adam asked through his teeth. “Can you tell what I’m thinking now?”
“Oh my,” Norah said, fighting to keep her laughter quiet as other patrons started to look at her. She began blushing again, her face matching her hair.
“Well, I guess I don’t need to be all that observant to see what you’re thinking,” Adam said quietly, and started to take a sip of his coffee when Norah kicked him under the table.
Ouch, she’s got strong legs, he thought to himself.
“So what was bothering you, anyway?” Norah asked, once again setting her chin on her clasped hands.
Adam paused for a moment, then decided that honesty was the best policy.