Will returned her smile, though halfheartedly, and placed his hand back on her knee. “I certainly enjoy seeing you. I wish it were more often than once a week.”
“Me, too.”
Natalie and John reappeared from their tête-à-tête. “Hey, sorry if I came across as rude,” John said with a glance toward Natalie. “My time in the Army hasn’t exactly sharpened my manners. Anyway, I got us a couple more drinks. Something stronger.” He set a glass of clear liquid and ice in front of Will. “Hope you like gin.”
Will picked up the tumbler and clinked it against John’s. “Cheers.”
He knocked it back immediately.
John plopped into his chair and laughed. “Well, you drink like you’ve been in the war. I can respect that.”
Natalie’s lips flattened in disapproval, and she reached for her beverage.
Thankfully, the rest of their group arrived only minutes later. Sandra and Evelyn apologized for their tardiness. They introduced themselves to Will and said their hellos to John. Frankie soon joined them, and they pulled up extra chairs to the table and ordered drinks from the bar. To Charlotte’s chagrin, Will ordered and finished a second gin on the rocks.
“I wished Charlotte would’ve been interested in me when I was at the AMC,” Frankie joked after Charlotte explained again how she and Will had met. “I can’t blame her, though. Not only was I dressed in a hospital gown, I was also unable to walk. How pathetic! But she introduced me to Sandy, so in the end, I’m a happy man.”
Will smirked. “I was also pathetic.”
Frankie turned to John and continued their conversation. Charlotte frowned and placed a hand on Will’s arm. He ignored the gesture.
“Can you tell us what it was like over there?” Frankie asked John.
John pulled out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. Smoking was a new habit he’d apparently picked up in the Army. He brought a cigarette to his lips and offered the pack to the group. Frankie and Evelyn accepted, and the rest declined.
John eyed Will. “Not a smoker?”
“I quit in the hospital.”
John shrugged and addressed Frankie’s inquiry. “Well, it’s probably not too different from what you’d imagine. You’ve seen the movies.” He lit his cigarette and took a drag. Smoke billowed from his nose and mouth as he laughed. “Except it’s real and shells are flying past your ear.”
Evelyn’s eyes grew wide. “Weren’t you afraid?”
“I find it helps to confront the fear head on,” John replied.
Will rose from his seat. “I’m getting another drink. Anyone else?”
John held up his empty glass. “I’ll have another.”
Charlotte followed Will to the bar. “Darling, don’t you think you’ve had enough? You never drink this much. Not since I’ve known you, at least.”
“I’m fine.” He caught the attention of the bartender. “Do you want anything?”
She shook her head. “I’m not in the mood.”
The bartender filled two glasses to the brim, and Will returned to the table with Charlotte, drinks in hand. His gait was unsteady, more so than his usual limp. He would be in no state to dance with her later. She sighed. At least she could spend time with him tomorrow if tonight was a bust.
When they rejoined her friends, John regaled the group with humorous tales of his adventures with Nick in training and the North African desert. Some of the stories were ones Nick had described in his letters, some were new. No matter how entertaining, Charlotte wished he’d stop talking about Nick.
Will stared into his drink the entire time, his eyes glazed over. He wouldn’t look at her, even when she touched his knee beneath the table.
Finally, she’d had enough. She pushed back her chair. “I’m going to visit the ladies’ room.”
Sandra also stood. “I’ll join you.”
A line snaked along the wall to the restrooms. Charlotte took her place at the end and leaned against the wall, thankful for the reprieve. The evening couldn’t get any worse.
Sandra waited behind her in line. “So, Will’s quite a dish in a brooding and mysterious kind of way. That can be attractive.”
Charlotte rolled her eyes. “The problem is he’s not brooding and mysterious. He’s drunk . . . not the impression I wanted him to make tonight.”
Sandra shrugged. “Well, I’ll give him the benefit of the doubt. Everyone has a bad night once in a while. It looks like John’s having a bad night, too. Speaking of . . .”
John approached them as the line moved forward.
Charlotte exchanged a confused look with Sandra and pointed across the room. “The men’s room is on the other side.”
“I need to talk to you.” John’s slurred speech suggested he was as drunk as Will. His lips turned downward. “Don’t you want to know how Nick died?”
Charlotte narrowed her eyes. She’d finally been able to put Nick’s death behind her, and she resented John for broaching the subject. “Why would you ask me that?”
John sneered. “I’m sorry. I figured his fiancée would want to know about his demise.”
“I know how he died. He was killed by enemy fire on patrol.”
“But you don’t know why.”
Charlotte grabbed his arm and led him away from Sandra and the rest of the line. The only quiet place for them to talk was outside the dance hall. She flung open the doors and entered the cold night. The awning overhead shielded them from the falling rain.
She set her hands on her hips and glared at John. She vacillated between sending him inside to Natalie and letting him explain himself. Would it make any difference why Nick was killed? The knowledge wouldn’t bring him back. At the same time, she was curious, and John clearly wasn’t about to drop the matter.
“Well?”
John’s shoulders slumped. “It was my fault.”
Charlotte relaxed her stance. “John, it wasn’t your fault. You were his best friend and comrade, not his enemy. You didn’t kill him.”
John’s gaze fell to the sidewalk. “We were on a reconnaissance patrol together, along with two other guys. And I disobeyed orders. I drove us too far into enemy territory. Nick warned me, and I didn’t listen. And he was killed, not me.”
The magnitude of responsibility John had carried since Nick’s death brought tears to her eyes. “You couldn’t have known that would happen.”
He jerked up his head. “Why aren’t you angry?”
She matched his sharp tone. “What are you looking for? Someone to punish you?” Nearby patrons scrutinized them. She lowered her voice. “I won’t do that. You’ve punished yourself enough.” She pointed to the entrance. “Now, go inside and find Natalie. I’m sure she’s looking for you.”
John pulled on the door handle and waited for Charlotte to reenter the dance hall. When she hesitated, he asked, “Aren’t you coming in?”
The hall was far too noisy, and her head ached. She dipped her chin and rubbed her temples. “Give me a few minutes. You go on.”
“Hey, Charlotte?”
She looked up. John stood in the doorway.
“I’m truly sorry.” With a dejected glance to the night sky, he disappeared into the building.
Charlotte rested against the brick façade and squeezed her eyes shut. Images of Nick and John patrolling the desert popped into her imagination.
Nick in his uniform.
Nick under fire.
Nick shot down.
She inhaled a deep breath and focused instead on Will. Not the Will who was currently drinking himself into oblivion, but the Will from every other day. The one who made love to her. The one who showered her with endearments. The one who helped her when she needed it the most.
“Are you all right?”
She reopened her eyes. Will stood in front of her wearing his jacket and hat, as though he were about to leave. His green eyes were dull and bloodshot.
Charlotte nodded. “I’m fine.”
He shrugged out of his jacket and
offered it to her. She accepted.
“John told me I could find you out here. What’s going on?”
“He wanted to explain the details of Nick’s death. He blames himself.” She sighed and stepped forward, placing her hands on his shoulders. “Darling, let’s get out of here and go somewhere alone together . . . anywhere. I need to get away from this place.”
“Charlotte, I need to go home.”
“Oh, come on. It’s early and I don’t get to see you during the week.”
She wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed her lips to his.
Will didn’t kiss her back.
She backed away from him, scowling. He’d never refused her before. “Why are you acting this way?”
He crossed his arms over his chest and glanced down at the sidewalk, avoiding her stare. “Charlotte, I don’t think I can ever live up to your expectations.”
“What do you mean? We’ve never discussed expectations.”
“You know what I mean.”
Her voice trembled. “No, Will, I don’t.”
He met her gaze. “Last year, you were going to marry another man. From what I keep hearing, he was everything I’m not. He’s your expectation.”
Charlotte shook her head.
Will persisted. “I’m a coward. I hobble when I walk. My nightmares frighten you. I’m never going to have a family to accept you. I have hideous scars—”
“I don’t care about those things! I love you, and I refuse to listen to your self-abasements for a second longer.”
“You deserve better.”
Charlotte held her head high. “You know what? You’re right. You’re nothing like Nick.” She shoved her forefinger on his chest. “Nick wouldn’t have pitied himself. He wouldn’t have gotten drunk, making an appalling first impression on my closest friends. Nick would’ve been confident in my feelings toward him.” She removed his jacket from her shoulders and pushed it into his hands. “If you want to go home, you should.”
Will tipped his hat and retreated into the rain.
By the time he reached the next block, Charlotte regretted her words.
“Will, wait!” She scrambled after him, past the merry couples spilling from the dance hall and into the rain. She caught up with him. Raindrops dripped from her forehead down to her chin.
He frowned. “You’re going to catch a cold.” He put his jacket around her shoulders again. “Keep it for tonight.”
Charlotte gazed up at him. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean what I said.”
“You did, though.” He sighed. “And you’re right. Something needs to change.”
“What about us? Are we all right?” she asked.
Will shrugged. “It’s up to you.”
“I love you, and I want to be with you. Do you still love me?”
His expression softened. “Of course I do.”
She smiled. “That’s all I needed to know.”
Will took her into his arms and finally kissed her with the intensity she’d awaited all week, one that made her rational thoughts fade into oblivion.
She placed a hand to his cheek. “You should go home and sleep off the alcohol.”
“And you should get dry.” He kissed her again, this time on the forehead. “How about we see each other tomorrow? I’ll give you a call in the morning. Maybe around ten?”
She nodded. “I’ll look forward to it.”
Will continued walking in the direction of the bus stop, a dark shadow fading into the rainy night.
Charlotte returned to her friends. Natalie, John, and Evelyn were the only ones who remained at the table. She collapsed into her seat and took a gulp of the drink she’d nursed all night. All eyes were on her. Her hair was limp and damp, her makeup was ruined, and Will’s jacket was still wrapped around her shoulders.
“What in the world happened to you?” Natalie asked. “And where’s Will?”
“He went home.”
John didn’t look up from his drink.
Natalie stood and pushed Charlotte’s pocketbook into her hands. “We should leave. You must be freezing, and I’m not having any fun.” Natalie glanced at John and sighed. “I guess I’ll have to drive you home, too. Evelyn, do you want to leave with us?”
“Please,” she said.
They found Sandra and Frankie on the dance floor and said good-bye. After retrieving their coats, John led them to where he’d parked. He handed the keys to Natalie. Charlotte and Evelyn slid into the backseat while John sat up front. Natalie drove them slowly through the rain, and minutes later, parked at the curb in front of the dormitory.
“Good night,” John said as Charlotte and Evelyn stepped onto the sidewalk.
The car pulled away and they went inside.
“Are you all right?” asked Evelyn.
“I’m fine . . . I think. Thanks for coming tonight.”
Charlotte returned to her room. She stripped off her damp dress, wrapped herself in a bathrobe, and ran a hot bath in the bathroom down the hall. Within minutes, she submerged herself in the soapy water. The warmth enveloped her limbs and torso and soothed her frazzled nerves. She relaxed her neck against the cool porcelain and stared at the ceiling tiles.
The night had not gone as planned. She and Will were supposed to have a grand time. She should’ve danced the night away while he whispered endearments into her ear. Instead, it’d been a near disaster. At least she’d been able to salvage their relationship.
“You deserve better.”
Those were the words that knotted her stomach until she felt ill. She’d made her feelings plain to him, and yet he believed himself undeserving, living in the shadow of her late fiancé. She’d been careful not to talk about Nick with Will in order to avoid this situation, and it’d backfired. In doing so, she never conveyed to Will the depth of her appreciation for him.
Will’s tragedies made him vulnerable. They also made him compassionate and understanding. Will supported Charlotte no matter what, whether she wanted to join the Cadet Nurse Corps, work in a factory, or stay at home. He valued her opinion, and she, in turn, valued his. He was what she always wanted. Though she never would’ve admitted it until now, Will was always her expectation, even when compared to Nick.
Thirty-Four
Charlotte crossed her legs and stared out the nearest window, bopping her foot to an imaginary beat. The weather hadn’t improved overnight. Rain streamed down the glass pane, blurring the gray streetscape beyond. She scanned the morning paper to bide her time, but she couldn’t focus. She tossed it aside and glanced at the clock. Seven minutes passed since the clock struck ten o’clock, and Will had yet to call.
Finally, the telephone rang. She answered before the second ring. “Hello?”
“Charlotte? It’s Will.”
She smiled. “Hi. How are you feeling?”
“Fine. Are you still free today?”
“Yes.” A horn sounded on the line. “Where are you?”
“I’m at Union Station,” Will said more loudly. “Can you join me? I’d like to catch the train within the hour, if possible.”
“Where are we going?”
“I’ll explain later.”
Charlotte didn’t press him. She trusted Will and would join him anywhere. “I’ll be there. See you soon.”
She hung up the receiver and hurried out the door. Because she was in a rush, she hailed a cab instead of waiting for the bus. Just over ten minutes later, the cab pulled in front of Union Station.
When she entered the depot, Will approached her right away. He was dressed in casual trousers, a red shirt, and a brown leather jacket. His appearance was disheveled. He hadn’t shaved, and his dark hair was mussed. The dark circles from last night had deepened. However, there was a look of determination in his eyes she hadn’t seen in months.
He kissed the corner of her mouth. “Thanks for coming. I already purchased your ticket.” He led her to the platforms.
She held onto his arm. “Where are we going?”
/> “Stamford.”
Will was in such a hurry she didn’t ask questions until they found seats on the next train. She settled in next to the window, while he fidgeted with the buckle on his wristwatch. His knee bounced up and down.
She placed her hand on his forearm. “Relax.”
Will’s knee stilled. He crossed his arms and leaned back in the seat. “Sorry.”
“You don’t need to apologize. Now tell me. Why are we going to Stamford?”
He gulped. “I’m going to fly my plane.”
Charlotte pursed her lips. Nearly a year had passed since Will’s last flight that nearly resulted in his death. How would his fear—which she didn’t blame him for having—affect his aviation skills? She didn’t want him in any danger.
“Are you sure that’s a good idea?”
He nodded curtly. “It needs to be done.”
The train crawled away from the platform. Soon, raindrops pelted against the roof of their passenger car. Will raised his hand to cover a yawn and rubbed his eyes. The skin reddened and swelled, further emphasizing the bags beneath his eyes.
Charlotte sighed. “Did you sleep at all last night?”
“Only until two o’clock.”
She shook her head. How long had it been since he’d had a full night’s sleep? His fatigue was yet another reason she didn’t want him in the air today.
“You should close your eyes and try to sleep now. You need the rest if you’re going to fly.”
“Thank you.” Will interlaced his fingers with hers and kissed the back of her hand. He rested his head against the seatback and closed his eyes. His thumb caressed her finger until he fell asleep.
***
Will didn’t rouse until the train entered Stamford Station. “I can’t believe I was out for the entire ride.” He blinked rapidly and looked past her to the window. “Is it raining?”
“No. The rain stopped somewhere in New Jersey, I think.”
Will stood and stretched his arms above his head. His fingertips reached the ceiling. “What’d you do while I was asleep?”
Charlotte gathered her belongings. “I read the newspaper cover to cover. After that, I was just thinking.”
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