Eyes on the Stars

by Lynn Ames

  “Just breathe, dear. Breathe. Short, quick breaths. That’s it.”

  “May I come back in?”

  “Yes, Doc. She’s decent.”

  Claudia grabbed Mrs. Rourke’s arm. “Don’t go. Please. I’m so scared.”

  “I’m not going anywhere, dear. I’ll be right here with you. Doc needs some hot water, but I’ll come right back. Don’t you worry about a thing.” She patted Claudia on the shoulder.

  “Okay, Claudia. Your contractions are less than five minutes apart. I’m going to need to take a look.”

  As Doc lifted the bottom of the sheet to check Claudia’s cervix, she closed her eyes tightly. Yes, he was a doctor, but he was a man first.

  “I need you to try to relax a little. I know this is stressful, but the more I can see, the better I can help you. Take a deep breath for me, will you?”

  Claudia did, and let it out slowly. Just as the doctor stepped back, Claudia had another contraction. “Is… Is it going to be okay? I mean, am I going to be okay?”

  “I sure hope so. I haven’t lost a patient all week.”

  Claudia gasped.

  “I’m kidding.” He gazed at her kindly. “Levity is always a good thing. Especially when you’re frightened.”

  “Have… Ugggggh!” Claudia took shallow breaths until the contraction passed. “Have you ever delivered a baby in someone’s home before?”

  “A few times. It’s not ideal, but I know what I’m doing, I promise.”

  Claudia nodded.

  “I’m back, dear. See? I told you I wouldn’t be gone long.” Mrs. Rourke placed a trivet and a cauldron of boiling water on the dresser. She hustled back out the door and returned another minute later with a bowl of cold water and a washcloth.

  Doc busied himself sterilizing his instruments in the boiling water, while Mrs. Rourke mopped Claudia’s face and neck with a cool washcloth. “There, is that better?”

  “Yes. Thanks.”

  “The contractions are coming faster. We’re just about ready,” Doc said. “Claudia, when I tell you to, I want you to push. Can you do that?”

  Claudia closed her eyes and set her teeth.

  “If it helps you, dear, think about someplace you’d rather be,” Mrs. Rourke whispered in her ear. “I imagine that might be anyplace but here.”

  Claudia smiled thinly. She only wanted to be one place, and that was with Jessie. So she would hold onto that.

  “Okay, Claudia. Push.”

  Claudia did. And did, and did. After an hour, she felt something shift. “Doctor?”

  “The baby is coming. That’s it. One more time, Claudia. I can see the head.”

  The pain seared Claudia’s insides. She felt as though she would break in two.

  “Push!”

  “Arrrrgh!” Claudia closed her eyes and thought of only one thing. “Jessie!!” Claudia crushed Mrs. Rourke’s hand in a vice grip.

  “Push harder.”

  Tears flowed into Claudia’s hair. “Jessie,” she said, more quietly.

  “I’ve got it. That’s it. Stop pushing.”

  “Jessie,” Claudia wept quietly.

  “It’s a girl,” Doc said. “It’s a healthy baby girl.” The baby let out a cry. “Get me the other clean sheet and a clean towel, please, Emily.” He cleaned the baby and placed it in the sheet before cutting the umbilical cord.

  Mrs. Rourke wiped Claudia’s face again. “You did it, dear. You did it. Well done. And you got what you hoped for after all—it’s a girl.”

  “How do you feel?” Doc asked.

  Claudia tried to catch her breath. “L-like a buzz saw cut me in half.”

  Doc and Mrs. Rourke laughed. “Very good. Would you like to meet your daughter?”

  Claudia nodded and held out her arms. Doc placed the little bundle on her chest, and Claudia wrapped her arms around her daughter for the first time. She gazed down at the tiny fingers and toes, the cap of red hair, and the angelic face. “My daughter.” She looked up first at Mrs. Rourke, and then at the doctor. “My daughter,” she said, with wonder.

  “She’s beautiful, dear. Is her name Jessie?”

  “What?” Claudia’s eyes opened wide.

  “You kept calling Jessie. Is that what you’ve named her?”

  “No.” Claudia said quickly. She closed her eyes as tears fell again. “Her name is Natalie. Natalie Amanda Turner.”

  “Natalie Amanda Turner,” Mrs. Rourke repeated. “I like it. It has a nice ring. I bet she’ll be a star.”

  Claudia closed her eyes. She was so very tired.

  “We’ll let you get some rest now, dear. Little Natalie and I will be right here when you wake up.”

  We have a daughter, Jess. A beautiful, angelic little girl. I’ll always consider her yours and mine. Always, because that’s how I would want it. If anything ever happens to me, our Natalie will know to go to you, wherever you might be, for you will always be our home.

  I’m exhausted, darling, and I must get some rest while our baby sleeps, so I’ll sign off for now.

  I love you always.

  Your girl,

  Claudia

  Jessie put down the letter and wiped a tear from her cheek. “Oh, Claude. I’m so sorry I wasn’t there. So sorry for so many things.” She blew her nose. “Natalie Amanda Turner. Turner?” Jessie re-read the last few paragraphs of the letter. Matt’s last name was Dunphy. Who was Turner? Perhaps Claudia explained in a subsequent letter.

  Jessie opened the next envelope and scanned the contents. There it was, in the third paragraph.

  It was a spur of the moment decision, changing my last name and Natalie’s. Her birth seemed like the perfect time to make a fresh start. By burying Sherwood, I would no longer have to worry about bringing shame on my family. I had other reasons too, but I won’t bore you with them here. My only regret is that if you ever try to find me (oh, and my dear, dear Jessie, I hope you will), you won’t be able to trace me. Still, I think it’s better this way, so please forgive me.

  It all made sense to Jessie now. She frowned. It was no wonder she hadn’t been able to locate Claudia all those years ago when she had searched…

  “Why are you looking for this woman, again?”

  “None of your business. I’m paying you to find her, not to ask me questions.” Jessie glared at the private detective. “Will you help me or not?”

  He shrugged. “Your money’s as good as anyone’s I guess.”

  He searched for two weeks before calling Jessie to tell her he’d hit a dead end.

  “What do you mean, you’ve come up empty? I’m not paying you for empty.”

  “Listen, I tracked down her parents. They weren’t any too happy to see me, I can tell you that. They haven’t seen her in years. After that, the trail goes cold. There’s no record of a Claudia Sherwood anywhere.”

  “What about Claudia Dunphy?”

  “Tried that too. Even went to backass Sweetwater, Texas. Found a grave marker for a Mr. and Mrs. Dunphy. Townsfolk say the woman was in her late eighties and died a few years back. The husband died in World War I.”

  “That must be Matt’s parents.”

  “Well, whatever it is, there’s no record of any other Dunphy in that burgh.”

  “Was there a grave marker there for a Matt or Matthew Dunphy?”

  “Nope. Like I said. Dead end.”

  “Thanks for nothing,” Jessie said. She put her fist to her forehead and pushed, trying to forestall the headache that was starting behind her eyes.

  “It’s not my fault, doll. I did what you asked. I’m not a miracle worker, you know.”

  “Apparently.” Jessie hung up. There it was, she really never would see her Claudia again. “Well, it was a long shot, anyway. I guess I wasn’t meant to find you, Claude.” She put her head in her hands and cried. “I just… I just wanted to know that you were okay. That you were happy and had a good life. That’s all.”

  Jessie poured herself a drink as the loneliness closed in around her like a
shroud. It was always there, lurking, no matter whether she was alone or in a crowd. There only ever had been one person who pushed back the shadows, and it seemed that Jessie was destined never to see her again. She swirled the liquid in her glass and stared out the window at the night, but saw only her own reflection in the glass—a sad, pathetic figure. She closed the shade to shut out the image.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  “Let’s see…” Jessie thumbed through 1944 until she came to December. She held Claudia’s Christmas letter up to her nose and sniffed. She imagined she could still smell the sweet perfume on the pages. Or maybe it was more than her imagination.

  She wondered if Claudia had been able to go back to work at the Inglewood plant after Natalie’s birth. If so, it was possible that she did have a hand in a plane that Jessie flew…

  “Keaton, I’ve got an assignment for you.”

  “Yeah? I’m listening.”

  “I figure you might be tired of towing targets.”

  “It’s all right.”

  “Yeah? Then maybe you don’t want to know that they’re tinkering with the damn P-51 again over in Inglewood—trying to fix the balance and visibility issues. We’ve been given one to test fly.”

  Jessie raised her eyebrows. The arrival of a P-51 at Camp Davis was big news.

  “Are you game?”

  The P-51 Mustang, with a maximum air speed of 440 mph and a range of six hours flight time. Jessie had flown an earlier version with a lesser engine, but this…this was something else. “Why me?”

  “Call it an early Christmas present. You in or not?”

  “I’m in.” Jessie jogged off to get ready.

  In the air, the P-51 was magnificent. With nothing but blue skies and a few broken clouds at 30,000 feet, Jessie was in a world of her own. This was the way she liked it—this was what she lived for.

  “God, Claude, you’d love it up here. This isn’t like anything we were flying.” Jessie clicked her jaw shut. Normally, being in the air was the only place where Claudia’s absence didn’t haunt her. But it was such a picture perfect day. All Jessie wanted to do was to share the experience with the woman she still loved more than she cared to admit. She wished that they could have had this moment together to remember for an eternity.

  Jessie banked the plane steeply to the right. It responded like a dream. She corrected and banked the other way. “There’s no use wishing and dreaming for things that will never be. Get the job done and get your head out of the clouds.”

  When she’d finished testing maneuverability, function, visibility, and speed, Jessie radioed the tower that she was ready to bring the P-51 back down.

  “Roger. You’re cleared for landing. By the way, there’s a big meeting about to get underway. All of the WASPs have been asked to muster. Better hustle or you’ll miss it.”

  “Roger. Over and out.”

  Jessie made her descent and brought the bird in for a smooth landing. She wondered what was going on. In June, Congress had defeated a measure that would have militarized the WASP. In October, Jessie heard rumors that the WASPs were being disbanded, but she hadn’t put much stock in them.

  By the time she arrived, the meeting was just underway. She stood in the back of the room.

  Isabel spotted her and came to stand by her side. “Glad you could make it.”

  “All right. Settle down, everyone.” A hush fell over the room. “I’m sure you’ve been hearing chatter about the fate of this program. I’m here to tell you it’s true.”

  The crowd started to buzz. “Hang on, hang on. I’ve got my orders. As of 20 December 1944, the WASP program will be disbanded. On that date, all of you will be expected to pack up and be on your way. That’s all. You’re dismissed.”

  “Just like that? That’s tomorrow!” Isabel turned to Jessie. “No, ‘thanks for your service,’ or ‘we really appreciate everything you did, you were a great help to the war effort’?”

  Jessie stood stock still, staring straight ahead. So this was it. She’d studiously avoided thinking about life after the WASPs. Where was she supposed to go? Was she supposed to go home and pick up where she left off, as if her whole life hadn’t been transformed by joining the WASPs and meeting Claudia? She headed toward the exit.

  “Jessie?” Isabel caught up to her.

  “What do you want from me?”

  “Don’t you have anything to say?”

  “Think about the way we’ve been treated all the way along, kid. What did you expect? A twenty-one-gun salute? We go out the way we came in, without fanfare or support.”

  “And that’s okay with you?”

  Jessie shrugged. “I didn’t get in it for the attention. I love to fly. It’s what I do. It’s what defines me. Period. I got a chance to do what I love and to support my country at the same time. That’s why I’m here. Why are you here?”

  Isabel chewed her lip. “I love to fly too. And I wanted to make a difference.”

  “Let me guess—you need someone else to tell you, you made a difference, right?”

  “Well, it would be nice.”

  “Listen, out in the world, you’ll be waiting a long time for folks to recognize you. Be strong enough to trust your own judgment. Do you think you made a difference?”

  Isabel straightened up to her full height. “I know I did.”

  “There you go. You don’t need anything else.”

  “Are you always so sure of yourself?”

  “Me?” Jessie thought of Claudia, and how she had made Jessie feel like an awkward bumbling, babbling fool. “Not always.” Jessie picked up her pace and left Isabel behind.

  She went back to the barracks and packed up her things. A lot of the girls were milling about, talking about their plans for the future. Some of them were looking forward to getting married and settling down. Others wanted to go back to school. A few were thinking about traveling around the country together.

  Jessie let all the conversation wash over her. She knew she should be concentrating on her immediate future, on where she would lay her head tomorrow night, but all she could do was wonder where Claudia was. The baby would be eight months old now. Was it a boy or a girl? Was Claudia healthy? Were they living with her parents? Maybe if she and Matt were married, Claudia would have returned to Sweetwater to live with Mrs. Dunphy until Matt came home from the war.

  Jessie stretched out on the bed with her hands under her head and her legs crossed at the ankle. This was a regular exercise of hers—to torture herself with thoughts of Claudia and her life. This time, though, was different. Always when Jessie daydreamed, she fantasized about Claudia coming for her, using her connection to the WASPs to find out where Jessie was stationed. She pictured Claudia pleading with her for another chance to be together, to raise the child as a couple, to live out the rest of their days as a family.

  After today, any likelihood, no matter how remote, of Claudia being able to locate Jessie decreased to virtually nothing. It wasn’t that Jessie believed that Claudia would come back, it was that the possibility existed. “Not anymore,” Jessie muttered. “You’re on your own, Keaton.”

  Not knowing what else to do with herself, Jessie decided she should probably head back to Indian Lake. At the very least, she needed to check on the cabin and make sure it was still habitable. Since she had very little cash, living for free made sense…at least until she could save some money. Presumably her plane remained in the hangar in Lake Placid where she’d left it. If she could get the old truck running, she could take a ride over and see if she could drum up some business carrying passengers around New England.

  In the early morning hours, Jessie hoisted her duffle bag and slipped out before any of the other girls stirred. There was no one she needed to say goodbye to. She would leave the WASPs as she came in—alone and friendless.

  “Well, Claude,” Jessie said, taking a sip of water and unfolding the letter from Christmas 1944, “going home was about the worst thing I could’ve done.” She shook her head. “I
have no idea what I was thinking. I had way too much time on my hands and nothing better to do than spend my days and nights fixated on you. Even I knew it wasn’t good for me, although I didn’t much care at the time. I was in a bad way. I sure hope you fared better than me.”

  Christmas 1944

  My Dearest Darling Jessie,

  Another Christmas without you. It’s unbearable. Our little Natalie is a very sweet baby. She doesn’t cry or fuss much, and she mostly sleeps through the night. Still, I had no idea how tiring being a mother would be. I’m exhausted most of the time. Between taking care of the baby and taking in sewing jobs, I have very little time to myself.

  What time I do have, darling, I spend thinking about you. Oh, how I wish I could be with you. I look up in the sky and imagine I see you flying overhead.

  I don’t get much news here, but one of the girls who works in the Inglewood factory has kept in touch. She stopped by the other day to see the baby. A friend of hers is in the WASPs, stationed at Santa Monica. She told me the most horrible news. She says the WASPs have been disbanded. I couldn’t believe my ears.

  Of course, the first thing I thought was, “Poor Jessie.” Where are you, sugar? Are you still in Las Vegas? Will you stay there and find work? I’m desperate for word of you, but I don’t want to violate your privacy. You made it very clear you never want to see me again, and, as much as that rips my heart out, I will honor your wishes.

  Sometimes I almost convince myself that you only said that in the heat of the moment, and that if I showed up one day, you’d throw your arms around me and take me back. Then I tell myself I’m only being silly and selfish, that you don’t want anything to do with me. On those days I cry often.

  Well, enough of the maudlin.

  Mrs. Rourke has been very good to me and Natalie. She watches after her sometimes to give me a little break, and she drums up sewing business for me with her friends. She tells them someday I’ll be a great fashion designer. As if.