Where or When: A Pearl Harbor Romance

by Bretton, Barbara

  And what about their children, she thought, as Rick opened the trunk of the car and took the dresses from the sales clerk. She could just imagine the icy reception a half-Japanese, half-American child would receive in Newport or New York City.

  Thank heaven it wasn't her problem. She'd certainly never do anything as foolish and thoughtless as Tony and Lilly had done. Her children would come into the world with all the advantages she'd been lucky enough to enjoy. Eden had no doubt she would marry for love when the time came, but she could see no reason why love and good sense could not go hand-in-hand.

  Rick seemed distant as he retraced their way back to Honolulu and the restaurant where Eden planned to have lunch. Even Lilly was less talkative, content instead to watch the scenery whizzing past the windows of the car. Now and again Rick whistled pieces of a tune and Eden found herself wishing he'd either whistle the whole thing or forego the enterprise. There was a certain tension in the car that hadn't been there before, as if something had transpired while she was busy trying on dresses at Hattie's Haute Couture. Of course, that was impossible. Lilly had been with her the entire time and each time she'd glanced out the storefront window Rick had been there leaning against the fender and smoking a Lucky Strike.

  But still there was something in the air, something disturbing, that she couldn't quite define.

  She dreaded walking into the snooty Windward Club with Lilly at her side. The Windward was known for the exclusivity of its membership and a very pregnant Japanese woman, no matter how lovely or wellborn, would be looked at askance. As Rick drove through the gates and up the driveway, lined with towering Royal Palms, she considered the wisdom of cancelling the lunch and going home instead.

  But, then, why should she be punished just because of Lilly? Like it or not, Lilly was a Forrester and Eden determined that her sister-in-law would be treated with respect, if not the fawning deference for which the waiters at the Windward Club were famous.

  "Next stop, lunch.” Rick pulled over a few yards from the front entrance, then glanced over his shoulder at Eden. "When do you want me back?"

  Eden met his eyes. "You mean you won't be waiting out here for us?"

  He tapped at his watch. "Like I said, it's lunch time, princess. I thought I'd grab myself something."

  Lilly, who'd been quiet during the ride from Hattie's to the club, suddenly perked up. "Why don't you eat with us?" she asked.

  Rick's glance went from Eden to Lilly then back again. "I don't think that's such a hot idea."

  "That's right," said Eden swiftly.

  "It's a splendid idea," Lilly persisted. "Why should Rick drive all over town looking for a place to have lunch when he could just as easily dine with us?"

  There are a million reasons, Eden thought, not the least of which was the looks she'd get as she walked into the club with her brother's Japanese wife on her right and a lowly enlisted man on her left. She took a deep breath and tried to recover what was left of her charm. "I'm sure Rick has other things he'd rather do than listen to us gossip," she said, summoning up a smile.

  Rick gave her a bland look. "Not really," he said. "I figured I'd grab a shave ice and some chop suey somewhere."

  "You'll do no such thing. You're lunching with us, isn't he, Eden?"

  Eden arched a brow. She'd never seen Lilly quite so adamant about anything and she could only wonder why having lunch with Rick Byrne was so all-fired important to her. "It's up to Rick," she said at last. "Certainly it doesn't matter to me."

  The devilish grin she remembered from the night before reappeared. "With an invite like that, how can I resist?"

  #

  The Windward Club was one of those venerable institutions that smelled like old money. Okay, Rick knew the club was only ten years old but there was something about it, a certain atmosphere that only came with tradition. Hell, the place damn nearly reeked with class. If it weren't for the bowls of orchids at each table and the scent of white ginger blossoms in the air, you'd almost think you were on Park Avenue.

  Despite the sultry weather, the ladies were dressed to the nines in tailored suits and white gloves while the men were appropriately attired with jackets and ties. Rick was glad he'd changed into a fresh uniform before he picked Eden up.

  He glanced across the table at his employer. Lilly had excused herself to use the powder room as soon as they were seated near the window. He'd expected Eden to join her sister-in-law (women always seemed to travel to the can in pairs) but she'd sat there like a stone statue, looking out the window.

  "Great place," he said. "If the chow's half as good...."

  The statue came to life as she turned to fix him with one of her patented scowls. "The chow, as you put it, is wonderful."

  "Okay," he said, "out with it. What's wrong?"

  "You have to ask?" she countered.

  "You're mad I'm having lunch with you?"

  "Very perceptive," she drawled.

  "I thought it was real nice of Dr. Forrester to ask."

  "It was absurd, if you must know. I can't imagine what got into Lilly."

  "She was being kind," he said, aware of the dangerous edge to his voice. "Some people are like that."

  "We weren't exactly leaving you in the lurch," she pointed out, blue eyes blazing. "You have a car, a full tank of gasoline, and money in your pocket. I'm certain you could have managed to find a place to dine."

  "I don't dine, as you put it, I eat."

  She laughed out loud. "Then you're definitely in the wrong place, because the Windward Club caters to diners."

  He leaned across the table, enjoying her discomfiture more than was healthy. "I don't eat with my fingers, if that's what you're worried about."

  She nodded hello to three elderly matrons in identical flowered hats who were being seated on the other side of the room. "Keep your voice down," she muttered. "The world needn't know your table manners are in doubt.” She gracefully unfolded her pale pink linen napkin and placed it on her lap. "I could shoot Lilly for this."

  "Leave her alone.” Both he and Eden were surprised by the vehemence of his tone. He tried to subdue it but failed. "Don't you know what's going on here?"

  Eden sipped ice water from a crystal goblet before answering. "I believe she's trying to drive me crazy, that's what is going on here."

  He groaned and leaned back in the fragile rattan chair. Back in Chicago he would have used a chair like that as a toothpick. "How can anyone so beautiful be so dumb?” He noted the red color staining her cheeks. "Dr. Forrester wanted a friendly face at the table."

  Eden put her glass back down on the table with a thud. "Now what's that supposed to mean?"

  He didn't back down. "It should be pretty clear, princess."

  "My name is Eden."

  "I know."

  She sighed in exasperation. "Lilly's on her way back to the table. I suppose I'll never get an answer now."

  He wanted to tell her that the answer was written in the tight-lipped stares of every blue-haired matron in the place but Lilly approached the table and he stood up to hold her chair. A chorus of low whispers had followed her return from the bathroom and he could tell from the slight furrow between her brows that it had not gone unnoticed. There was nothing wrong with being Japanese as long as you knew your place and the Windward Club sure as hell wasn't it. These blue-haired matrons knew it. Lilly knew it. Even Rick had caught on. Only Eden seemed blissfully unaware of the tension her sister-in-law was suffering.

  "The mahi-mahi is wonderful here," said Eden, trailing a pink-tipped nail down the hand printed menu. "I had it last week with Daddy and we both adored it."

  He didn't eat things he couldn't spell. "Do they have anything normal here?"

  "Mahi-mahi is normal in Hawaii."

  "Don't they have any hamburgers?"

  Across the table Lilly started to laugh. "I was wondering the same thing."

  Eden looked from Rick to Lilly then back again. Her shrug was eloquent. It made him feel like a peasant, but
he'd be damned if he ate something called mahi-mahi for anybody, not even for the princess.

  Chapter Eleven

  Eden was halfway through her lunch when it happened. She had been listening to Lilly and Rick's conversation with only half an ear, wishing they would talk about something more interesting than the latest meeting of the ladies' auxiliary. There were many more fascinating things going on right under their very noses, like what Commander Vandeventer's wife was doing taking a meal with a handsome young lieutenant with a dubious reputation. Or why two generals and a rear admiral were huddled in conference at the most prized table in the whole club when Eden knew for a fact that the rear admiral had been asked to resign from the Windward, effective the end of the month.

  She always laughed when she heard about the elaborate network of spies the military had put into place from one end of Oahu to the other, when all they had to do was spend two hours at the House of Beauty on Kalakaua. She wished she were under one of the hair dryers at the House of Beauty when Sarajane Hanks and Mitzi Montgomery, two of the most important military wives at Pearl, sidled up to the table with smiles on their faces and trouble on their minds.

  "Eden, my dear.” Sarajane bent down and pressed her powdered cheek against Eden's. "How splendid to see you out and about."

  "I've been out and about for quite some time," said Eden, smiling politely at the older woman.

  "Of course, she has," said Mitzi, offering a limp hand to shake. "The most popular girl on the island isn't going to be stopped by a broken leg, is she?"

  There was nothing wrong with the sentence. Not really. But something about the tone of Mitzi's words made Eden feel as if she were being chastised. Or called an old maid.

  "Ah, to be young again.” Mitzi's grey eyes rested briefly on Rick, dismissed him, and then moved toward Lilly. "Someone new," she said. "You must introduce us, dear."

  As if you don't know exactly who she is, thought Eden. She doubted if anybody in that exalted social set didn't know Admiral Forrester's son had married a Japanese girl. If Eden's popularity had been a casual topic of conversation, then the existence of Lilly Aoki Forrester was no doubt burning up the telephone wires.

  "Mrs. Hanks. Mrs. Montgomery. This is Tony's wife Lilly.” She hesitated a fraction of a second. "Doctor Forrester."

  She could barely suppress a hoot of pure pleasure at the look of surprise on those gossipy cows' faces.

  "A doctor!” Sarajane placed a fluttery hand against her flat bosom. "Lands' sake. You look like a child."

  "Appearances can be deceiving," said Lilly, extending her slender hand in greeting. "Won't you join us?"

  Eden tried to cover her groan with a cough. "Pardon me," she said. "There must be something in the air.” What in blazes was wrong with Lilly that she didn't recognize trouble when she saw it?

  Sarajane cast Eden a quizzical look then offered up a powdery smile. "We really shouldn't. I'm certain you young people have scads to talk about."

  Mitzi, however, motioned to a waiter who quickly appeared at the table with two empty chairs. The two women settled themselves down for what looked to be a long lunch and Eden's heart plummeted. Neither Mitzi nor Sarajane had ever shown anything more than a passing interest in her. Certainly they'd never expressed a desire to have lunch with her. It wasn't hard to figure out that the attraction was the lovely young doctor.

  Sarajane and Mitzi wasted no time engaging Lilly in low and animated conversation that left Rick and Eden cut off.

  "You gonna let them grill her like that?” Rick said, low enough for only Eden to here. "Those barracudas are going in for the kill."

  "Oh, let them ignore us," said Eden with a toss of her head. "I didn't want them to sit with us anyway."

  "That's not what I'm talking about."

  She frowned. "What then?"

  "In case you haven't noticed, that's not chit-chat. Those are military maneuvers."

  "Don't be ridiculous."

  "They don't like her any more than you do, princess."

  "I don't know where you got the idea I dislike Lilly. She's my sister-in-law."

  "You're jealous as hell of her."

  "I am not."

  He leaned back in his chair. "This isn't one of your Annapolis boys you're talking to. I know bull when I hear it."

  Her eyes narrowed in anger. "If it wouldn't embarrass everyone at this table, I'd slap your arrogant face."

  "Try it, princess, and see what happens."

  She knew exactly what would happen. He'd probably slap her right back. "I'd appreciate it if you watched your language."

  "Your brother's wife is being drawn and quartered and you're worried about my mouth. Don't you ever think of anybody but yourself?"

  Their heated exchange was interrupted by the arrival of lunch. She attacked her romaine lettuce with her fork. Who on earth did he think he was, telling her what to do and how to think? Lilly was a grown woman--a doctor, for heavens' sake! Certainly she could handle lunchtime conversation with two matrons. Besides, what did it matter anyway what Sarajane and Mitzi thought about Lilly. By this time tomorrow Lilly and her brother would be back home on the big island and life would return to normal. She glanced over at Rick who was eyeing his shrimp plate with suspicion.

  Well, almost back to normal.

  #

  Next time you get the bright idea to mix with the big shots, check into the infirmary, Byrne, because your head's not screwed on right.

  He would've been better off frying outside in the hot sun with only the Oldsmobile for company than sitting in here while the officers' wives declared open season on Lilly Forrester. And the worst part of the whole damn thing was the way the admiral's daughter didn't seem to care. He'd caught on pretty quickly that Eden was jealous of her accomplished sister-in-law but he'd never suspected she'd allow strangers to give a member of her family a tough time.

  Live and learn. Maybe not everything about the carriage trade was as terrific as he used to think back in his old Chicago neighborhood. Back there you didn't have to like everybody in your family but you'd protect them with your life. Hell, he couldn't stomach his brother Donny but Rick had managed to get his jaw busted twice defending him against outsiders. That's the way it was with families. You protected your own.

  But not Eden Forrester. Those old bags had been dancing all around the mulberry bush with innuendo while little miss perfect had just smiled and continued to eat her way through a four course lunch. Once she'd even excused herself and made her way to the ladies' room as if she didn't have a care in the world.

  Rick had given it his best shot. He'd tried to deflect some of the barbs tossed by old Mitzi and Sarajane but they'd brushed him aside like he was a sand flea. He wasn't a real emotional kind of guy but he'd actually felt a sharp pang at the defenseless look in Lilly Forrester's dark eyes.

  "The chocolate cake is scrumptious here," said Eden with one of her debutante smiles. "I'm going to order it for all of us."

  "My cook used to make the most divine chocolate cake," said Mitzi, "but one day she up and left. You know how it is with those foreigners. They're so unreliable.” Her laugh sounded like ice tinkling in a metal cup. "No offense meant, my dear," she said to Lilly. "Our gardener was most loyal."

  He had to hand it to the lovely doctor. He would have tossed that fancy fluted glass of iced water right in Mitzi's face. Lilly, however, nodded and maintained her poise. "None taken."

  Eden, however, didn't miss a bite of cake. The ice princess, so concerned with her own comfort, that she couldn't see somebody else's pain. That's what you get for thinking with your glands, Byrne. At least he wasn't the first man to mistake beauty for something more. Last night by the firelight from the burning cane fields he thought he'd seen a glimmer of heart inside the ice princess, but he'd been dead wrong.

  #

  "More coffee?” The waiter appeared at the table bearing a large silver pot.

  "Goodness, no!” Mitzi Montgomery placed her hand over her cup. "I've had e
nough to float one of those boats in Battleship Row."

  Sarajane laughed and Eden was pleased to note that her tiny white teeth were lightly coated with chocolate frosting and Desire Me red lipstick. The table talk had drifted off toward the possibility of war same as it had last night at the party. When they weren't worrying about Emperor Hirohito sailing across the Pacific and showing up right there on the shores of Waikiki, they were looking for spies in their own backyards.

  "We miss you at the Ladies Auxiliary," said Mitzi with a phony smile. "We need someone young and pretty to encourage more volunteers."

  Eden had spent the most dreadful two weeks of her life rolling bandages for British soldiers while listening to Mitzi and her ilk draw-and-quarter any woman unlucky enough to not be present.

  "My accident has kept me from doing many things I enjoy," she said smoothly, proud of herself for not telling Mitzi to stick one of those bandages up her nose.

  Next to her, she could tell that Rick was dying to jump into the conversational fray but as an enlisted man he was all but invisible to the officers' wives. You're luckier than you know, thought Eden. What she wouldn't give for a touch of invisibility right about now.

  "As I was saying," Sarajane went on, "men live for war. It's been that way since time began. No reason to think the beast is going to change anytime soon, certainly not with the Japanese nipping at our heels. Why, I said to the hubby just last night that maybe we should consider finding a real American to tend our garden. Can't be too careful these days, I always say."

  A silence fell across the table as Sarajane's words lingered in the air. Rick seemed coiled and ready to strike while Lilly sat ramrod straight in her chair, her right hand cupped protectively over her belly. Sarajane wasn't the first to voice her concern about the Japanese community and she wouldn't be the last. Some people even said the Japanese consulate was a hotbed of intrigue, what with the pride of the U. S. Navy berthed at Pearl for all to see.