In these instances, Charlotte was grateful to be powerless against fate.
Thirty-One
At seven o’clock, Charlotte met Will in the lobby of the Willard Hotel. Great marble columns showcased elaborately carved ceilings. The mosaic floors were covered with plush oriental rugs and velvet settees in a shade of steel blue that matched her dress.
She’d spent over an hour scouring her wardrobe with Natalie for the perfect ensemble. She wanted a dress that was glamorous, but not too ritzy; alluring, but not too racy. In the end, nothing in her closet was right, so she borrowed a dress from Evelyn. Shimmering blue fabric was fashioned into a high neckline in the front with a lower V in the back and cap sleeves that left her arms bare. The skirt was formfitting from her hips to just below her knees, highlighting her curves.
Upon her arrival, Will stood from his chair and set his newspaper onto the side table. He looked dashing in his dark pinstripe suit and tie. She approached him and they embraced, Will kissing her cheek lightly.
“You look beautiful.” He took her small piece of hand luggage. “Shall I take this upstairs before we go to the restaurant?”
“That would be nice, thank you. I’ll wait for you here.”
Will left for the room he’d checked into earlier in the evening, and Charlotte took a seat in the lobby. She picked up the newspaper he’d left and scanned through the headlines. All of them were war related. She folded the newspaper and replaced it. She’d looked forward to this night all week and didn’t want the horrors of battle on her mind. Instead, she admired the ceiling and the handiwork that must’ve gone into carving it.
Will returned within five minutes. “All set?”
Charlotte took his hand. “Absolutely.”
Dinner at the hotel’s French restaurant went as swell as any of their previous dinner dates. They drank cocktails, feasted on a delicious meal, and danced until Charlotte’s feet were sore in her high heels. This time, however, she was preoccupied by the prospect of what was to come.
When Will’s lips touched his martini glass, she wanted them on her neck. When his hands caressed her back as they danced, she wanted them everywhere else.
After they danced to several songs, Will leaned into her ear. In a barely audible whisper, he asked, “Do you still want to stay the night?”
Her only response was a nod.
They left the restaurant and strolled arm in arm through the lobby, toward the elevator bank. In the elevator, an elderly woman with a fur stole studied them. Charlotte was suddenly self-conscious about her bare ring finger. What did the lady think of her, an unmarried young woman going to a hotel room with a man? What if this lady knew her parents? What if her parents found out? As though he could feel her unease, Will squeezed her hand, and she relaxed. None of it mattered beyond him.
The elevator operator announced their floor, and they exited into a hallway with dark red carpeting. Once they arrived at their room, Will pulled a key from his pocket and unlocked the door. He gestured for her to enter first.
The room was standard, with just enough space for an armchair, a wardrobe, a small en suite bathroom, and a double bed covered in white linens and pillows. Charlotte wandered to the opposite end of the room and pulled back the heavy, blackout curtains that covered the window. The view was of a downtown side street.
Will placed his hand on her shoulder.
“This is a nice hotel. I’ve never been inside one like it,” she said as he brushed her curls from her neck. His lips were soon in their place, and she closed her eyes and leaned into him, her body pulsating with excitement.
She released the curtains and spun around to kiss him. He’d removed his suit jacket, but still wore the tie, which she tugged lightly. Will backed away, a smile lingering on his lips. As he pulled off his tie, Charlotte kicked off her shoes and removed her earrings. With her eyes locked on his, she unzipped her dress and stepped out of it. Clad in only a satin slip and her undergarments, she approached him.
“Have I told you that you’re beautiful?” Will’s voice deepened.
“You have.” She sat on the edge of the bed and crossed her legs, waiting for him.
Will unbuttoned his dress shirt and dropped it to the floor. His shoes, socks, trousers, and undershirt followed, leaving him only in briefs that did little to conceal his manhood. He joined her on the bed and ran a finger along her jaw.
He took her slip between his fingers. She raised her arms, and he lifted the garment over her head. He tossed it across the room, and she laughed until his lips claimed hers. She scooted back on the bed until her head hit the pillows.
Will hovered over her, his knee resting between her legs. He slid the bra strap off her shoulder and kissed her collarbone. His hand slid across the side of her breast. “You said you’ve done this before, right?”
Charlotte gasped as his lips moved closer to her cleavage. “Once, a couple years ago.”
“Only once?”
She nodded, staring at the ceiling tiles. “What about you?”
“More than once.”
She pushed him away. “Wait, when was the last time?”
Will sat up on the bed. “When I was overseas.”
Though Charlotte had no right to feel jealous, she couldn’t bear the thought of Will making love to anyone else. Focusing on the ceiling again, she blinked away her tears. “A pretty English girl, no doubt.”
Will sought her gaze and tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. “Darling, it was before I met you. If I’d known you were out there, that I’d feel this way, it wouldn’t have happened. There’s been no one like you, ever. I love you.”
He wrapped his arms around her and held her close. She felt him more prominently between her thighs.
“I love you, too,” she whispered.
They kissed again, and she relaxed under his caresses. He removed her brassiere, and this time, when his lips trailed down her body, she didn’t stop him.
***
A shift on the mattress stirred Charlotte from a blissful sleep. In the pitch-black hotel room, she saw nothing. She reached out her hand and found Will’s warm body beneath the sheets. He shuddered violently. She switched on the lamp and her eyes adjusted to the light. Will slept on his back, one arm thrown over his forehead. His eyelids twitched, and his skin was damp with sweat.
Her heart thumped. She hesitantly placed a hand on his shoulder. “Will? Wake up . . . please.”
Her meager efforts failed to rouse him. She shook him with increasing persistence until he awoke with a start. She jumped and her hand flew to her chest.
Will sprang to a sitting position. “What’s wrong?”
Tears came to her eyes. “You scared me. You were shaking so badly.”
He collapsed back onto the bed and wiped a hand across his forehead. “What time is it?”
Charlotte glanced to the bedside clock. “Just past five.”
She flipped off the lamp, plunging the room into darkness.
Will pulled her into his arms and curled behind her, resting his chin on her shoulder. “I’m sorry for scaring you. It was just another nightmare.”
“Will, it worries me that you keep having these dreams.”
“I hear it’s pretty common.” He stroked her arm with his fingertips. “Don’t worry about it. Don’t worry about me.”
“How can I not worry about you? I love you, and I hate to see you suffering.” She flipped around so she faced him in the dark. “You should talk to a doctor about it. They may be able to help.”
He sighed. “Go back to sleep, darling.”
She grazed her hand across his bare chest. “Will you go back to sleep?”
“No.”
“Then neither will I.”
Charlotte entwined her legs with his and found his lips. Will responded readily to her advance. He rolled her onto her back and kissed her passionately, his hands sliding beneath her nightgown and further coaxing her passion. Each and every touch was more urgent than before, and whe
n Will murmured that he needed her, she sensed he meant more than his yearning for her in that instance. He also needed her love and support, offerings she would tender wholeheartedly.
Thirty-Two
As she rode the bus to Trinity College, Charlotte hummed one of the tunes she and Will had danced to the night before. After the interruption earlier that morning, they managed to get a couple more hours of sleep and then lingered in bed for as long as they could. They made plans to see a movie later in the evening, taking full advantage of Will’s day off. They also promised to find opportunities to be intimate again, as soon as possible.
The bus dropped her off a couple blocks away from her dormitory. She strolled down the sidewalk and prepared for Natalie to quiz her on how her night went. But when she entered their room, Natalie was weeping on her bed, a Western Union telegram lying in her lap.
Charlotte’s breath caught. She hurried to Natalie’s side and wrapped her in her arms. “I’m so sorry.”
Natalie pushed her away. “Sorry about what?” She picked up the telegram and handed it to Charlotte. She wiped away her tears and grinned. “John’s coming home! Can you believe it? They’ve given him leave!”
Charlotte unfolded the paper and read it aloud. “Won leave. Will be home October first. Can’t wait to see you. Love, John.” She set the paper on Natalie’s desk. She chuckled in relief. “Why are you crying? This is great news! He’ll be here this week!”
Natalie blew into her handkerchief. “I haven’t seen him in so long. We’ve been together for three years, and two of those years he’s been gone. What if he comes back and the spark is gone?” She shook her head.
“That’s a silly thing to worry about. You’re lucky he’s able to come home, and I’m sure it’ll be fine,” said Charlotte.
“You’re probably right.” Natalie beamed again. “Oh gosh, I can’t wait! The next few days are going to feel like torture. I wonder how much time he’ll want to spend with his parents—Oh! He can go dancing with us next weekend! He can meet Will, too!”
Anxiety struck Charlotte. “You said John doesn’t know about Will yet.”
“I’ll tell him when he arrives.” Natalie gave a careless shrug and prattled on about her plans, oblivious to Charlotte’s unease.
Thirty-Three
Sergeant John Cartwright returned to the United States on Friday, the first of October 1943, without fanfare. Natalie and his parents met him at his ship in Annapolis, Maryland. The Army had granted John three weeks of leave, which he’d won in a lottery drawing several weeks earlier.
“Isn’t that such wonderful luck?” Natalie had a dreamy look in her eyes as she sat at the vanity. “Out of his entire battalion, John’s number was called.” She powdered her nose and puckered her lips. “I hope we stay this lucky!”
Charlotte perched on the edge of her bed as she waited for Natalie to finish getting ready. She’d already fixed her hair and makeup, and changed into a dress with a bright red floral design that matched her shade of lipstick.
“It’s certainly lucky,” she replied. “Natalie, you told him about Will, right?”
“Yes, I mentioned your relationship with him last night.”
“In how much detail?”
Natalie smoothed her curls and stood. “I told him it was a serious relationship, and he knows he’ll meet Will tonight. He promised to be on his best behavior, so you have nothing to worry about.”
Charlotte exhaled a slow breath. “Good. Thanks.”
Natalie removed a pair of black pumps from her wardrobe. “You should see John. He’s so brawny and tanned. He looks good with shorter hair, too. Gosh, I might swoon again when he picks us up.”
“You act like you didn’t spend all of last night and this morning with him,” Charlotte said with a chuckle.
“I wish it were every second.” Natalie slipped on her shoes and grabbed a coat and her pocketbook. “Let’s get going. John will be here any minute.”
They headed downstairs and waited inside the dormitory lobby. When John pulled to the curb, they dashed through the rain to the car. While Natalie sat next to John, Charlotte slid into the backseat.
John spun around. “Great to see you again, Charlotte.”
Natalie had been accurate in her description. Since joining the Army, his lanky frame had grown more muscular, and his face and hands were tanned, no doubt thanks to a year spent in the Mediterranean.
She returned his smile. “You, too. Welcome home.”
John navigated them through the dark, rainy night to their favorite dance hall. Once they arrived, Charlotte and Natalie hopped out of the car near the entrance, and John left to find a parking spot. Inside, they checked their coats and surveyed the crowd. The room was packed.
Natalie strode to the seating area surrounding the dance floor, searching for an empty table. Her luck continued as she snagged a square table for four that’d just become available. She took a seat, leaned in toward Charlotte, and said over the lively music, “We’ll have to pull up chairs for the others when they arrive.”
Charlotte nodded. She could see the entrance from her seat and glanced at the front door often, watching for Will. Nearly a week had passed since their last date, and she was eager to see him again. Their night together was all she could think about.
She tapped her fingers on the table. “John seems like he’s doing well.”
Natalie smiled. “He does, doesn’t he?”
“He’s only been back for a day, though. He could be putting on a brave face.”
Natalie’s smile fell. She leaned forward again and lowered her voice. “Don’t be cynical. Just because Will came back from the war with psychological issues, doesn’t mean they all do. Don’t ruin this for me.”
Charlotte was about to defend Will, but opted against it when John approached the table. He removed his garrison cap and folded it over his belt. “I’ll get us some drinks. What are you gals having tonight?”
Natalie answered first. “I’ll have a shandy. Thanks, honey.”
“And I’ll have the same,” said Charlotte.
As John meandered toward the bar, Natalie’s gaze slid to Charlotte. “I’m sorry. You told me about his nightmares in confidence. I shouldn’t have brought them up.”
“No, you shouldn’t,” Charlotte replied.
“I’ve just been so worried about him, and I hope he’s all right.”
Charlotte offered a small smile. “I’m sure he’s fine. He seems to be.”
She spotted Will near the entrance and caught his attention with a wave of her hand. He headed their way.
Natalie turned in her seat and watched Will’s approach. “His limp is less pronounced than when I saw him in May. He looks good.” She nodded approvingly.
“Yes, he’s getting better.”
When Will arrived at their table, Charlotte stood and gave him a quick peck on the lips. He had dark circles beneath his eyes. He mustn’t have slept well this week, if he slept at all. However, this was not the time to bring up her concern.
“I’m so glad you’re here,” she said instead. “You remember Natalie.”
“Yes. Lovely to see you again, Natalie,” Will replied.
Natalie smiled. “Likewise. Have a seat. John’s getting us some drinks.”
Will shrugged out of his navy sport jacket and smoothed his dark hair to the side. “Charlotte told me John was on leave. He’s lucky. From my experience, it’s rare to get a long enough leave to come home. You must be thrilled.”
“Definitely. He was gone for such a long time. It seemed like an eternity.” Natalie crossed her legs. “How long were you in the war?”
“Two years.”
John returned and set down two glasses of shandy and a beer on the table. He extended his hand to Will. “John Cartwright.”
Will shook John’s hand. “Will Kendrick. Good to meet you.”
John gestured to the drinks on the table. “I’m buying tonight. What are you having?”
“Beer.
Thanks.”
John returned to the bar, and Will settled in the seat between Charlotte and Natalie. His hand found Charlotte’s bare knee beneath the table while he made polite conversation with Natalie.
“If anyone else needs a drink, you can go to the bar and put it on my tab,” John announced as he finally sat. He slid a beer bottle across the table to Will and leaned back in his chair, sipping his own drink. He pointed to Will and then to Charlotte. “So, how did you two meet?”
Will squeezed her knee beneath the table and answered on their behalf. “It was almost a year ago. I was admitted to the hospital where Charlotte volunteers.”
John’s eyes skipped to Charlotte’s. “A year ago, huh?”
She blanched. A year ago she was engaged to Nick. She couldn’t let John think she’d been unfaithful. “We didn’t start dating until this summer,” she added.
“Right.” John returned his attention to Will. “Natalie told me you fought in Europe. What were you doing in the war?”
Will removed his hand from Charlotte’s leg and rested his forearms on the tabletop. His shoulders adopted a tense edge. “I led bombing missions over Germany with the RAF.”
“And why aren’t you over there now?”
Natalie interjected. “John, he said he was in the hospital.”
John shrugged. “So? Many of us return to the war after injury, whether we want to or not. I think it’s a fair question.”
Will picked at the red label on his beer bottle. “I was deemed unfit for service.”
Natalie scooted backward, her chair making a loud screech along the floor. “Honey, we need to talk.” She marched toward the bar, and John followed her.
Now that they were alone, Charlotte rubbed Will’s shoulder. “I’m sorry about John.”
“It’s fine. I often ask myself the same question.”
Charlotte mustered a big smile. “Well, I’m glad you’re not fighting in the war anymore. Otherwise I wouldn’t get to spend all this time with you.”
Battle Hymns Page 19