“I’ll get it,” Brady said. “You’re not very good at letting other people take care of you, are you?”
“Probably not,” CJ admitted.
Except her mother. What she wouldn’t give right now for a bowl of homemade turkey soup. But how could she ever face her mother again? She’d never been good at stretching the truth in her own favor. What would her mother and father think if she told them she’d fallen for a girl?
They stopped at Brady’s barracks first. CJ waited in the car with the excuse that she could move the illegally parked vehicle if any officers or MPs were feeling officious. In reality, she wanted to avoid Janice, who, it seemed, had been right about her all along.
A short time later, Brady returned to the car looking cool and refreshed in a clean summer uniform, her hair pulled back in a colorful onyx barrette.
“Ready?” she asked, turning the key.
“You don’t have to drive me, you know,” CJ tried again. “I can walk.”
“I’m driving you,” Brady said, an edge to her voice that hadn’t been there before. Then she smiled, an insincere offering CJ had seen her toss at countless GIs and other Wacs. “What kind of friend would I be if I abandoned you now?”
They drove the two hundred feet to CJ’s barracks in silence. Brady insisted on carrying her bag inside for her, then waited in the car while CJ got cleaned up and changed. By the time they parked the LaSalle behind the officers’ quarters and walked the short distance to the mess hall, the sun had set and evening mess was almost over.
CJ glanced around the interior of the converted barn, but her friends were nowhere to be seen. Either they had eaten already or they were eking out their weekend pass, as she and Brady had intended to do.
Supper was chipped beef with potatoes and green beans. Not quite the meal they had planned, but CJ hadn’t eaten much that day. They ate quickly, chatting about the work week ahead. Brady was writing a story on the WASP company due to arrive at Biggs later in the week. Apparently, they were coming to Fort Bliss by way of Camp Davis in North Carolina to join the Sixth Tow Target squadron.
“That is one job I wouldn’t want to have,” CJ said. “You should see some of the cadets. They seem younger than my little brother even, and they’re itching to shoot down anything that moves.”
“You couldn’t pay me enough,” Brady agreed. “But it probably beats getting shot at by the actual enemy. I heard last week that bomber crews in the Eighth have a life expectancy of six to eight weeks.”
CJ looked down at her plate. Her brother Alec might not be in the Eighth flying raids out of England, but he would soon be facing German fighters over Axis targets, assuming Brady’s intelligence was accurate. What would his odds of survival be once the Fifteenth started their long-range bombing campaigns?
“I’m sorry,” Brady said quickly. “I wasn’t thinking.”
“It’s fine.”
But it wasn’t fine. Twenty-four hours earlier they had held hands and run down a gypsum dune, and now they were struggling to make small talk about the war. She longed to take Brady’s hand again, to assure her that everything would be all right. But they were in the WAC mess hall, and besides, she wasn’t certain everything between them would be okay.
Brady turned in their dishes and they headed back to the barracks, the now familiar line of the Franklin Mountains hulking black against the purplish horizon. They didn’t talk as they walked, but occasionally in the twilight Brady’s arm brushed against hers. CJ had to resist the urge to take her hand again. Was this what life was like for Toby and Kate? Were they constantly editing their behavior, second-guessing the way they interacted in public? Not that this was the same thing, of course.
They reached Brady’s barracks first.
“Do you want me to walk you home?” she asked.
“That’s okay. But thanks.”
“If you’re sure.” Brady hesitated and glanced over her shoulder at the barracks door.
Not that again. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” CJ said, starting to turn away.
“Okay,” Brady said, the single word somehow managing to sound forlorn.
CJ stopped. “Are you going to be all right? This weekend wasn’t exactly easy on you.”
Brady wrapped her arms around her middle, hugging herself in the descending chill of the desert night. “I’ll be fine. I actually had a good time. Mostly.”
“So did I.”
“Right. You probably wish you’d gone to see the Andrews Sisters and saved yourself the headache of a weekend with me. Literally.”
“But I don’t.” CJ stepped closer. How could she even think that?
“You don’t?” Brady seemed oddly hopeful.
“Of course not. I’m glad we spent the weekend together. Honestly, I’m disappointed it had to end early.”
“So am I.” Brady looked over her shoulder once more and then, so quickly CJ didn’t see it coming, leaned forward and brushed her lips against her cheek, perilously close to the corner of her mouth. “I’ll miss you tonight.”
As she turned and disappeared inside the barracks, CJ stared after her, dumbfounded. Had Brady kissed her? Heart thumping, she touched her mouth. If she had known the kiss was coming, would she have turned her head and kissed Brady back, right there in the WAC compound for anyone and everyone to see? Probably. And that was the part that frightened her most.
Mind churning, she limped back to her own barracks, no longer hiding the effects of the fall. She hadn’t wanted Brady to know how much pain she was in—the very impulse that had gotten her into trouble earlier that day.
Jesus God, she thought, rubbing her temples. What now?
* * *
She was writing postcards in the day room when Toby and Reggie came in later that night, whistling at her bandages.
“We heard you were back here looking like you made a tour of the front lines,” Toby said. “What does the other guy look like?”
“Was it a bear?” Reggie asked. “Or did Brady get mad and slug you?”
“Yeah, what did you do to set off the blonde bombshell?” Toby added, seemingly innocently. But then she and Reggie exchanged one of their looks, and all at once, CJ understood. They knew she had feelings for Brady. They’d known before she did.
She glanced around, but the other Wacs in the day room were busy talking and playing cards. “Actually,” she said, lowering her voice, “I tried to kiss her and she walloped me.”
They gaped at her, eyes wide.
Served them right, CJ thought uncharitably. Were they even her friends, or did they simply enjoy watching the unfolding train wreck of her crush on Brady?
“Now if you’ll excuse me,” she added pointedly, “I have some postcards to write.”
Toby nudged Reggie. “It wasn’t Brady. She’s yanking our chains.”
“Oh.” Reggie laughed uncertainly.
“Come on, pal,” Toby added to CJ. “Let’s me and you take a walk.”
“Why would I want to go for a walk with you?”
“Because you need someone to talk to, and I hope it can be me. Even if I have been something of an ass.”
“Something of an ass?” she echoed.
“Easy, killer.” Toby offered her a hand.
After a moment, CJ let herself be pulled up. “This doesn’t mean I forgive you.”
“I can live with that.”
Outside, the compound was brightly lit, MPs on duty both outside and inside the gate. CJ had heard that they were so carefully guarded because sometime the previous spring a civilian had sneaked into one of the women’s barracks late at night and attacked the sergeant in charge of quarters. Fortunately, her shouts had brought a dozen enlisted women to the orderly room, and they’d made short work of the would-be attacker.
“How long have you known about Kate and me?” Toby asked.
“A while. I went to university. It’s not a new concept.”
“So the idea isn’t new, but the practice is?”
CJ shrug
ged.
“What did happen?”
“Do you swear to keep this to yourself? Well, you and Kate, since I assume you’re going to tell her.”
Toby nodded. “We do have some experience with secrets, you know.”
So as they walked in a wide circle around the compound, going slowly in deference to CJ’s sore ankle, she told Toby everything, ending with the kiss outside Brady’s barracks.
“She said she would miss you?” Toby repeated.
CJ nodded, both miserable and semi-euphoric at the memory.
“Huh.” Toby took a drag on her cigarette. “Interesting.”
“What should I do?”
“I can’t tell you what to do, CJ. Only you can decide what’s right for you.”
That sounded suspiciously like what she had told Brady the previous night.
“But,” Toby added, “let me ask you this: If there were no rules against it, if your family and your church and your hometown didn’t care one way or another, what would you do?”
That was easy. She didn’t even have to think about it.
“It doesn’t matter,” she said. “They do care. Besides, I don’t even know how Brady feels at this point.”
“Don’t you?” Toby gave her a dubious look. “She did kiss you.”
“Not a real kiss. Anyway, she’s engaged. And even if she wasn’t, my family would never understand. I don’t think I could hurt them like that.”
“In my experience, ignoring how you feel doesn’t make it go away. Besides, given the chance, your family might surprise you. Not everyone has a problem with gay people.”
Gay people. That was certainly better than the denigrating “fruit” and “queer” she’d heard tossed around the hangar and the flight line. Much cheerier, as if falling for a member of your own sex were a happy accident rather than a potentially lonely, alienating experience that may or may not result in criminal charges.
“How long have you known you were, well, that way?” she asked, studying Toby.
While not traditionally beautiful, Toby was certainly attractive. She looked younger than she was, with smooth skin and rosy cheeks, deep blue eyes and dark brown hair cut shorter than the average WAC hairstyle. She didn’t look like a girl trying to be a man, as the stereotype dictated. She looked more like a freshly scrubbed teenage boy the high school girls would all swoon over.
“I knew when I was a kid that I wasn’t like other girls. So did my parents. We never talked about it, but my mother didn’t pressure me to get married like she did my sisters. I used to take the train into New York all the time, and I managed to find places there for people like me. Eventually I moved to Manhattan. The Army has more than its share of gay people too, some who knew before they joined up and others who found out once they were in.”
“Is that why you joined up?”
“Nah, I wanted to be part of something important. I was making better money working the assembly line in Newark, honestly, but I couldn’t shake the feeling I should be doing more.”
“So you’re okay with it then? Being different?”
“It used to scare the crap out of me,” Toby said. “But then I realized there were people like me everywhere, all in this sort of secret club, and it started to seem almost exciting.”
“And now?”
“Sometimes I wish it was easier. I wish people didn’t think of Kate and me as perverts or sick. It’s this one small part of who we are, something we couldn’t change even if we wanted to. Speaking of which, have you noticed the way Janice Evans looks at you? I’d watch out for her. Rumor has it someone in her platoon reported a couple of Wacs for being gay.”
“What happened?”
“The higher-ups transferred them both to different posts.”
“I thought it was an automatic blue ticket.”
“With enlistment numbers lower than expected, it turns out they need us more than we need them. At least for now.” Toby ground out her cigarette and pocketed the stub. “We better get back. You look beat.”
“I feel beat. But thanks. For talking, I mean.”
“Anytime.” Toby clapped her on the shoulder. “Whatever you decide, I’ll still be your pal.”
CJ doubted the same could be said for Brady.
“Can I say one more thing?” Toby added.
“Of course.”
“If you ever decide to explore the gay life, make sure you bring me along. I’ll probably have to use a baseball bat to keep the girls off you.”
“What?” CJ laughed out loud. Then she realized Toby was serious. “What are you talking about?”
“You’re a cute girl. You just hadn’t found your people yet.”
She followed Toby back toward the barracks, their conversation coiling through her mind. Toby thought she was cute in the gay sense, which should probably horrify her but instead was actually quite flattering. Was this who she was supposed to be? Were Toby and Kate “her people,” as Toby claimed? And if they were, could Brady be one of them too? Toby seemed to think it was possible. But what about Nate? Thinking about breaking off an engagement and doing it were two very different things, and everyone knew that getting involved as the other woman was a terrible idea. Cheating wasn’t her style, and Brady had said herself that she couldn’t do that to Nate.
Besides, now that she was away from Brady, she was starting to wonder if she might not have imagined everything. Maybe it had been the romantic inn and the adventure of being off-post together. Maybe if she waited it out, this miserable crush would pass, despite what Toby had said.
Worth a try, wasn’t it?
* * *
In the morning, while her squad mates rushed about getting ready for drill and PT, CJ lay on her GI cot pondering her conversation with Toby. She had said there were gay people everywhere, including in the Army. Was Reggie? Probably. CJ had never seen her with a GI, and it wasn’t like dating opportunities didn’t abound on the post. Sarah clearly wasn’t a member of the club, given her involvement with Jack. Who else? CJ watched the Wacs around her—Nancy, whose Marine husband was in the Pacific; Ruth, who was dating an Air Cadet even though the rules expressly forbade it; Rose, who was always asking Ruth about the Air Cadet’s buddies; and Mary, who had short hair like Toby and had never mentioned a boyfriend, husband or fiancé. She had possibility.
Then again, possibility for what? Kate and Toby were proof that a banned relationship could be successfully hidden from military authorities, who were apparently less interested in policing such dalliances than they purported to be. For that matter, Ruth and her cadet boyfriend offered additional evidence that what the military didn’t know couldn’t hurt the individual soldier. But even if Brady did have feelings for her, there was still the slight matter of her fiancé to think of, not to mention how their families would react. It wasn’t like they could ride off into the sunset.
No, she told herself again, better to avoid Brady and see if this thing between them, whatever it was, might dissipate on its own.
After the barracks emptied, she ate a banana Reggie had swiped for her, took more aspirin and went back to bed, rising eventually a little after eleven to officially start her day. At lunch she sat with the usual gang of D-lites, who demanded the story behind her cuts and bruises before they would tell her about the concert. CJ kept her tale short and light, ignoring Toby’s occasional questioning look. Nothing had happened, she reminded herself, and she intended to keep it that way.
Brady came in late and sat with her usual group of friends. CJ felt her looking over a couple of times but pretended not to notice. She was determined to purge Brady from her system. She was absolutely not going to daydream about kissing Brady for real, or wonder what her lips would feel like, or remember the heat of Brady’s body pressed against hers in the cold New Mexican night…
Reggie threw a french fry at her, and she returned to the lukewarm reality of tepid cheeseburgers, which they were lucky to have, given the national beef shortage.
A little w
hile later she left the mess hall with her friends, turning resolutely toward the barracks as they started back to central base. She didn’t wonder what Brady was thinking or feeling, really. She wished she were going back to work herself. Staying busy would have been better than having all this blasted time to think. Good thing there were always letters to catch up on. She hadn’t written Joe in a week, which wasn’t like her. He was less committed to their correspondence, but his mail was sometimes delayed for weeks, traveling through the censors and back to the States.
She hadn’t gone far when her neck began to tingle. Then she heard her name. Slowing, she looked back, already knowing who it would be. As Brady approached, blue eyes glowing with the same pleasure CJ could feel sparking inside, the tingle spread. Crap and double crap.
“How’s your head?” Brady asked, stopping before her.
“Fine. Better than it looks,” she added, touching the bandage.
“I don’t know. You look pretty good to me.” And she smiled into CJ’s eyes.
CJ felt her pulse jump, the tingle becoming more pronounced. Stop it, she told herself sternly. Stick to the plan. You do not want to melt into her arms. You do not want to kiss Brady Buchanan in broad daylight in front of half her company.
As the silence lengthened, Brady fidgeted, bouncing from one foot to the other. “Is there something we should, I don’t know, talk about?”
“No,” CJ said quickly. Too quickly—Brady seemed almost to flinch, the glow fading from her smile.
“Oh. Okay.” She squinted toward central base before glancing back at CJ. “You planning to get some rest this afternoon?”
“Yep. Doctor’s orders.”
She longed to reach out somehow, to reassure Brady. Remember Nate, she told herself, focusing on Brady’s engagement ring.
“And you wouldn’t dream of not following orders.” Brady took a step back. “I have to get back. See you later.”
In the Company of Women Page 12