Beyond the Horizon

by Ella Carey

  “Thank you.” Eva’s insides couldn’t help but dance too.

  “Any news about where you’ll be stationed?”

  “Camp Davis.”

  Harry held her at arm’s length. “Evie. I’ve heard stories about that base—”

  “Honey?” Lucille was at their side in a flurry of red dress and expensive perfume. “I’m right here and I want to dance.”

  A warm expression passed across Harry’s face, tender and indulgent and kind. “Of course.”

  He let go of Eva, and she stood there while Lucille laced her fingers through his own. “Kiddo?”

  Kiddo. Eva stayed still.

  “I want to talk. I have a few things I want to say to you about Camp Davis.”

  “I guess we could do that.” Eva managed to smile.

  He drifted off, and Eva searched the room for Nina. Suddenly, she wanted to go home.

  Anywhere was better than here.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  THE COMMITTEE: But if you really needed to access the WASP records, Mrs. Forrest, why didn’t you make any attempt to contact the government after the war was over in order to access them?

  EVA FORREST: With all due respect, sir, after the war, we were all having babies. We didn’t talk about the war and were encouraged to move on. To forget. We didn’t talk about it. Eventually, we almost did forget. When the government said we were done, my husband said the same thing.

  “Going out for dinner with a gentleman from Hancock Park?” Eva’s mom eyed her over her cup of chicory coffee the next morning in the kitchen. “Who did you say this man was?”

  “I didn’t.” Eva pushed her mussed-up curls back from around her face. She’d slept twelve hours after the party, and her mom was already on her midmorning pick-me-up, not breakfast. Warmth flushed Eva’s cheeks, and with all the unaccustomed sleep in her own bed, she felt like she’d been hit over the head with a baseball bat. “Jack Forrest went to school with Harry’s girlfriend, Lucille. Jack is an actor in Hollywood.”

  “Tell me more.” Her mom smiled, almost in a conspiratorial manner.

  “He’s just a boy.” Eva pulled a piece of bread out of the bread bin. She opened the toaster and placed the slice inside it, staying right next to the counter to keep a close eye on it. The toaster was temperamental, bread was precious, and if she burned her toast, her mother would not allow her to take another slice.

  “He’s a gentleman, by the sounds of it, dear.”

  “Maybe he is.”

  “It’s not every day that your daughter gets asked out by a gentleman from Hancock Park. We need to show him that you appreciate his gesture.” A whimsical look came into her mom’s eyes.

  Eva opened the toaster door and turned the bread. “Well, he’s nice and all, but it’s hardly anything to get excited about.”

  “You see, a man like that could help us. All of us. Dear, your father will never make enough for us to retire with ease.”

  The bread was crisp on one side and soft and white on the other. Eva turned to her mom. “What, Mom? You and Dad are in financial trouble?”

  Her mom lit the gas stove and filled the kettle from the kitchen tap, the sound of the water trickling through the kitchen. “Oh, you know how it is, dear. Your father has never earned much at the factory.”

  “I’m hoping you’re exaggerating? I thought we talked about this. Dad said Lockheed was still flat out with war orders and that he was fine.”

  “Oh, come on. All I’m saying is that if you married well, it would take the worry out of it. I’d always know you would help us, should we need you to do so, dear.”

  “Mom! Please—”

  Her mom held up a hand. “Eva, I would also love to see you with a house full of kids. You know, if I’d had more than just you and Meg, my heart wouldn’t be so broken at the thought of you leaving us again.”

  Eva’s toast was cooked on both sides. She started to butter it. Ever since Meg’s death, things seemed so much harder. Every conversation with her mom seemed loaded with regret. And her mom had put everything into her daughters. She and Meg used to sigh together about what it would be like for their mom, coping with an empty nest . . .

  Her mother reached for one of the high cupboards in her kitchen, the one where she kept her best china set. She pulled out a rose-patterned teacup and saucer and a teapot, adding a scoop of tea leaves to the hot water from the stove.

  “Now, Evie. If you are going to start dating, that gives me something to get excited about. It’s a focus, dear. I would suggest that if you like this boy, then there would be nothing wrong with seeing what the possibilities might be with him back here.” Her mother let the tea brew only for a few seconds, just like Eva liked it, and she handed Eva the steaming tea in the cup she reserved only for company.

  Eva pulled a chair out and sat down with a thump. Cautiously, she eyed the elegant cup. Had her mother already pigeonholed her as a married woman in Hancock Park?

  “Possibilities? I don’t think there are any, at this stage.”

  “How about we go shopping this afternoon and buy you a dress? Rose and Semple. How does that sound?”

  “Honestly?” She took a reviving bite of her toast.

  “You bet your buttons.”

  “Mom! You are unstoppable.”

  “You need to show this Jack Forrest that you are worthy of his people. You’re a lovely girl, Eva.”

  “I can buy my own dress. You forget. I’ve saved up my income from WASP training, even though it’s not much. But I can’t afford Rose and Semple. I’ll get something down on Main Street. That’ll do just fine. And then, we’ll see.”

  But her mom eyed her like a cat. “I gave in and let you go to WASP training . . .”

  Eva put down her toast. “Seriously?”

  “You allow me to buy you a dress for this dinner date.”

  Eva stood in front of the mirror. Her hair was curled and clipped up with a tortoiseshell-and-diamanté clasp that her mother had loaned her. The deep-navy-blue dress her mom had insisted on buying for her dinner date with Jack Forrest was ruched in the bodice, showing off her slim waist, and swirled around her tight calves.

  “Oh, hi-de-ho.” Harry’s voice swung and simmered behind her. But then he stood dead still in the reflection of Eva’s mirror and let out a whistle.

  Faint traces of his aftershave filtered through the air, and she stared at him standing there, his hair looking damp as if he’d just got out of a shower, with his white shirt and camel-colored trousers neatly pressed, covering his tanned and toned frame.

  She raised a hand to one of her cheeks that had suddenly taken on a mind to burn.

  “Kiddo, you are gorgeous.”

  Eva did a Lucille-worthy twirl.

  A flicker of amusement caught in his eyes.

  “Seriously? I’m still ‘kiddo’ in this dress?” Her voice came out cracked.

  He came into her bedroom and leaned on the dressing table, his expression shifting. “Oh, sorry. Eva.” He tilted his head to one side. “Where are you off to?”

  He was looking at her in a way he’d never looked at her in his life.

  Eva stood opposite him, suddenly shy.

  “On a date.”

  “Is he worthy of you?” His tone was more serious than she’d ever heard.

  “You know him.”

  “Do I?” He held her gaze. Something in the room shifted.

  “Jack Forrest.” The words burned and scratched in her throat. It was as if he held her reflection in his eyes. One word from him, and she swore she’d be in his arms.

  “Oh, Evie. But I cherish what we have. What will happen to that?” His words were quiet and still, and they hung between them as if balancing on a swing bridge over an impassable ravine.

  “Eva!” her mom called. “Jack’s here.”

  “Go,” Harry said. “Go to him.”

  Eva’s chest rose and fell, and if she moved one step, she’d fall over her shiny high heels onto the floor.

&nb
sp; “Go out with Jack.” His voice was barely audible in the dim, quiet room.

  One word, and she’d give her sincere apologies to Jack this minute.

  “Evie!” Her mom moved up the hallway to the front door. “Honestly, I don’t know what you’re up to. I’ll have to let Jack in myself.” She tutted loudly.

  “I’ll go out the back way,” Harry said, still holding her eye.

  He started to retreat.

  Eva fought the urge to reach out to him, to grab him and to bury her head in his shoulder and to ask him to slow dance with her, just like she’d seen him do with Lucille.

  But before she could open her mouth, Harry was gone.

  Eva leaned over, pressing her hand into her familiar dressing table. She heard her mom’s voice drifting from the front entrance.

  “Mr. Forrest. I’m Eva’s mother. I’d invite you in, but I’m sure Eva is keen and ready to go out. Evie, dearest?”

  Eva closed her eyes. Harry’s presence lingered in the air.

  “Mr. Forrest is here to pick you up! And he’s got a bunch of roses the size of a Christmas tree in his arms. Can hardly see the man for them. Eva?”

  Eva gathered her handbag, lifted her chin, plastered a smile on her face, and went to the front door, which was obscured by a huge bunch of red roses, with Jack’s handsome face peeking out from behind.

  Eva stepped into Musso and Frank as Jack held the door open for her. Elegant tables set with gleaming silver and crystal were dotted around the room, which was lined with leather banquettes and rich wood paneling.

  The maître d’ appeared. “We have your usual table, Mr. Forrest.”

  Eva raised a brow.

  “How are your parents?” The waiter led them to a secluded booth overlooking Hollywood Boulevard.

  “My parents are well. Thank you, Roberto.” Jack waited for Eva to slide into the booth before gliding in next to her himself. He ordered champagne for them both and then leaned forward, reaching for Eva’s hand, bringing it up to his lips, and brushing her fingertips.

  “In the back room of this place, Hemingway used to mix his own mint julep.”

  Eva was glad for the distraction of Jack’s conversation after the heady interlude with Harry. She’d alternated between frustration and longing all the way here in Jack’s father’s glamorous car. Jack had told her how his dad had managed to keep the car during wartime because he was a busy doctor.

  “I love Hemingway.” She smiled at him. It wasn’t his fault, her feelings for Harry. She let her hand rest under Jack’s on the deeply polished wood.

  “Olivia de Havilland and Joan Fontaine come here for birthdays. It’s a very important place when it comes to the world of Hollywood.”

  “Do they?” Eva leaned her chin on her hand.

  “Why, indeed, they do. Are you interested in the movies, Eva?”

  “Hollywood seems about as far away from Burbank as Avenger Field from New York. But I used to like to go to the pictures with my friends on a Saturday afternoon, before we signed up for the war, that is.”

  He looked down at the table for a moment and stayed quiet.

  “My friend Harry used to watch the newsreels that come on before the movies. So I’d go with him sometimes.” Eva felt herself redden.

  Something dark passed across Jack’s handsome brow, but he stayed quiet.

  “The glamour of acting is enchanting.” Eva flurried about for words.

  “Is it?” he asked.

  The waiter brought their bottle of champagne, pouring it with a flourish for them.

  “Oh my, look at that!”

  “It’s not easy sometimes. Being stuck here. Being useless.”

  “I’m so sorry, Jack.”

  “But at the moment, I’m filming down at Santa Monica. During wartime, there aren’t as many actors left here, so, lucky me, I get parts all the time.”

  “Well, that’s something,” she said, her voice soft.

  “You have beautiful eyes,” he said. “I know it’s a cliché, but you do.”

  “Oh, well, thank you. It’s nice to be appreciated.” Eva sat up. “You know, would you please excuse me one moment?”

  “Of course.” Jack slid out, standing with stiff formality while Eva walked across the restaurant to the powder room.

  Once she was in there, leaning against the beautiful marble basin, framed in the mirror beside a bunch of roses as big as the ones Jack had brought her, Eva stared at herself and splashed a little water on her forehead.

  She pressed her lips together, opened her handbag, and applied a little more lipstick, as if that would help.

  The fact was that Harry was in love with Lucille. She could tell by the way Jack looked at Eva that he was keen. And she sensed a vulnerability in him that was endearing somehow. Perhaps, Jack needed someone to tell him that not being in the war was okay.

  Eva went back out to the restaurant, threading lightly through the tables with their few glamorous wartime guests. The blackout curtains were closed, and Jack stood up the moment she came back toward their table.

  “Thank you for coming out with me tonight, Eva,” he said.

  Eva slid back into her seat. She leaned forward, her hand touching his on the table. “Jack,” she said. “It’s a pleasure. Thank you for inviting me. Now tell me more about Hollywood.”

  She smiled at him while he talked about his work.

  Eva’s mom burst into Eva’s bedroom the following morning. Eva sat up in bed, rubbing her tired eyes. Her mother stood with her arms folded, her head wrapped in the turban she wore while she swept the house.

  “Eva?”

  “What is it?”

  “Harry.” Her mom sounded irritated with her, more irritated than usual, if you could put it on a scale. “Harry is here again.”

  “Harry?” Eva was awake in one second flat.

  “Were you expecting him?”

  “Not at this very time, no.” Eva grabbed her dressing gown and threw it on. She stood up by her bed and pulled the blackout blind open. Bright midmorning sunlight flooded the room. “Oh goodness. I am of a mind to sleep for another hundred and twenty-six hours.”

  Eva’s mom tutted and shook her head.

  Eva took a step toward the door, but her mom blocked her.

  “No lady entertains a gentleman dressed in her sleepwear.”

  “Mom, just because I’ve been on a swanky date with Jack doesn’t mean I can’t go see Harry in my pajamas.” Although, her mom had a point. Lucille would look like she’d just stepped out of a fancy Hollywood hairdresser, even if it was six in the morning.

  Eva raised a doubtful hand to her head.

  Her mother rolled her eyes to the ceiling. “Go take a shower and clean up.”

  “Don’t let him go away.” Good thing she had all that practice with sub-three-minute showers back in Texas.

  Her mom stayed in the doorway. “Eva. What is going on?”

  “I don’t know what Harry wants.” Eva darted a look to her bedroom door. “Where is he, Mom?”

  “Chatting with your father. He’s going to help him mend a hole in the fence.”

  “Oh for goodness’ sake, stop them. Dad’ll take him over.” Eva threw her hands in the air. “Distract him, Mom. Tell him I’m right on my way.”

  “All right, then.” Her mom hovered for a moment. “But, Eva?”

  Eva stood still.

  “Be careful. Harry’s clearly involved with Lucille. I don’t know for the life of me why he’s coming around here to see you. I’m not sure that you children know what’s in your own heads. And you had a lovely dinner with Jack. Remember that, won’t you. Mark my words, don’t shoot yourself in the foot.”

  Eva frowned. “Thank you, but honestly, I can make up my own mind.”

  “I try, Eva. I try.” Her mom threw her arms in the air and marched out the door. “Gerald?” she called. “Bring that boy back inside, and we’ll give him coffee.”

  Eva scooted to her wardrobe, choosing and discarding outfits
like a girl in a terrible rush. Fifteen minutes later, she was showered and ready in a pair of cutoff blue jeans and a red T-shirt, her curls piled up on her head like she used to wear them when she was twelve.

  Harry and her dad sat at the kitchen table. Eva’s mom had placed a whole round of her homemade biscuits in front of them, and they were in the middle of talking about Lockheed’s planes, poring over diagrams, with brochures spread out in front of them.

  “Here she is! Sleeping Beauty.” Her dad smiled up at her, looking mildly proud, Eva thought, although she could not imagine why right then.

  “Morning, Daddy, Harry.”

  Harry was leaning heavily on the table. He looked up at her. “Eva, can we go talk somewhere?”

  Eva had her hand halfway into the bread bin.

  “Let me buy you breakfast.” Harry was already standing up. “Mrs. Scott, Mr. Scott, please excuse me for rushing off like this. It was lovely to see you both.”

  “You always have such charming manners, Harry. It was fine to see you too.” Eva’s mom smiled at him.

  Eva turned to follow Harry out the back door, and her mom caught her eye, mouthing something at her and gesticulating wildly behind Harry’s back.

  Eva shrugged, and Harry held the door open for her.

  The whole walk to the local diner, Eva was flooded with confusion. Dread at what he wanted to talk about mixed with anticipation that would not leave her be.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  THE COMMITTEE: If you honestly are here to support your fellow WASP, why not continue trying to reach out to them in order to resolve your personal matters rather than take up the committee’s time?

  EVA FORREST: I have tried and tried to reach out to my old WASP friends, but for thirty years, I have not heard back. This felt like some sort of punishment I did not deserve. And for women like me, who were affected detrimentally by accidents, having access to health care and records is vital so that we can thoroughly understand what happened and be given help to move on. Without access to the official WASP records, I cannot have the answers I need. I also believe there must be other, fellow ex-WASP who need health care and may not be able to afford it.

  Harry held open the glass door to the local diner. The sight of the old black-and-white-tiled floor and the waitresses flitting around in pink dresses with caps brought back memories of their high school days. How often had she sat here with Dylan, Nina, and Harry before war had complicated all their lives?