Thursday, December 1, 1938
Ten minutes after beating her mother in Scrabble, a "new" game she had picked up in a Princeton department store, Susan turned off the first-floor lights of her rental house, ascended the creaky stairs, and headed to bed. Tired from a long day of walking, shopping, and raking leaves, she looked forward to a good night's rest.
Susan walked down the hallway to Amanda's bedroom door, knocked, and waited for an answer. When she didn't get one, she knocked again, opened the door, and peeked inside the dimly lighted room. She saw Amanda sitting upright in her twin bed.
"I just stopped to say good night," Susan said. She paused. "Good night."
Amanda turned to face her mother.
"Good night."
Susan smiled warmly and blew her daughter a kiss. She started to close the door but stopped when she thought she saw a teardrop roll down Amanda's cheek.
"Are you all right?" Susan asked. "You look like you're crying."
Amanda sighed.
"That's because I am."
Susan entered the room, sat on the end of the bed, and put her hand on Amanda's extended leg. She patted the leg twice and looked at her daughter until she met her gaze.
"What's wrong?" Susan asked.
"It's complicated," Amanda said.
"Nothing's too complicated for me. Did something happen today?"
Amanda nodded. She wiped a tear with the back of her hand.
"I met Dot's father. He took the two of us to lunch."
Susan tilted her head.
"That's a good thing. Isn't it?"
"Yes," Amanda said.
"Since when do good things make you cry?" Susan asked.
"When they remind you of the dad you don't have."
Amanda broke into sobs.
"Oh, honey, I'm so sorry."
Susan slid forward on the bed and threw her arms around her only child.
"He looks a lot like Dad," Amanda said. "He even has the same laugh."
"So lunch was difficult?"
Amanda sighed.
"It was really difficult."
Susan pulled her daughter closer. For several minutes, she did nothing but hold Amanda in a gentle embrace and let her release pent-up emotions. She regretted not doing more to address a loss that was obviously still foremost in her mind.
"I know how you feel," Susan said. "I have moments like this too."
Amanda withdrew and stared at her mother with puzzled eyes.
"Do you?" Amanda asked.
"Do I what?"
"Do you have moments like this?"
"Of course I do," Susan said.
"Then how come you never cry?" Amanda asked in a soft but firm voice. "You haven't cried once since the funeral."
Susan sighed and looked away. She had no good answer for a question she had asked herself many times.
"You're right. I haven't," Susan said. "I haven't because I've put my anger ahead of my grief. I'm still angry about what your father did."
Amanda stiffened.
"You don't think I'm mad? I'm really mad. I think about his affair all the time, but I'm not going to hold it against him forever. He was a good father and a good man who made a simple mistake. He made a mistake. That's all."
Susan bristled at the word "simple." She wanted to say that there was nothing simple about setting up a lover in a Chicago high-rise for several weeks, but she held her tongue. She saw nothing to gain by pointing out the obvious.
Susan exhaled and then clasped Amanda's hands.
"I want to tell you something," Susan said. "I want to tell you something I should have told you last summer when the wounds were still fresh."
"What?" Amanda asked.
"I loved your father. I loved him even after I learned that he had broken his vows. I think about him every day," Susan said with conviction. "I may not grieve like other wives or grieve like my daughter, but I still grieve. I still care. I want you to know that."
Amanda smiled weakly and hugged her mother.
"That's all I need," Amanda said. "That's all I need to hear."
Susan slid off the bed and stood up.
"Things will get better. I promise," Susan said. She leaned over and kissed Amanda on the head. "Try to think of happier things. Tomorrow is another day."
CHAPTER 26: SUSAN
Wednesday, December 7, 1938
Susan needed only seconds to see that the presentation was more than a "little speech" and that Jack Hicks was more than an Okie from Muskogee or "a retired sailor with a lot of time on his hands." Even from her seat in the last row of the Mercer Auditorium, she could see that both the event and the uniformed Navy officer were big-time draws.
She sat in the last row because the last row was all that was available when she walked into the auditorium at seven fifteen with Elizabeth, Amanda, and Dot. She made herself comfortable in a cushioned seat and glanced at the others before directing her full attention to three men sitting together at the back of a brightly lighted stage.
Susan watched closely as one of the men, a fiftyish gent in a gray suit, got up from his chair and nearly tripped over a stray cord as he walked toward the front of the stage. He motioned to his young assistant, who sat next to Jack, and waited for him to retrieve the cord. When the blond man removed the hazard and returned to his seat, the fiftyish man proceeded to a large lectern and turned on the microphone.
"Good evening. I'm Clark Abercrombie, director of the Nassau Institute," the man said to five hundred people. "Welcome to the fourth lecture in the Institute's current series on foreign policy, military affairs, and pressing issues of the day. Our speaker tonight is a man who served this nation honorably for twenty-seven years in the United States Navy. He is a graduate of the U.S. Naval Academy in Annapolis, an author of two books on military strategy, and, if I may say so, a really great guy. Please welcome Rear Admiral John J. Hicks, U.S. Navy, retired, to the Mercer Auditorium."
Jack got up from his chair and walked to the front of the stage to the claps and cheers of an enthusiastic audience. He shook Abercrombie's hand, said a few words, and then replaced his host at the lectern. He waited until the director returned to his seat and then turned his eyes to a gathering that consisted mostly of college-age men.
"Thank you for that kind introduction, Clark, and thank you for inviting me to speak here tonight," Jack said. "As some of you may know, I have called Princeton home for the past two years. During that time, I've had the chance to meet many professors, students, and residents and discuss matters that interest us all in these dangerous times …"
Susan smiled as she watched her acquaintance from the library speak. He was not just a cookie-cutter retiree looking for a purpose but rather a man of substance who wanted to make a difference in a world that was edging closer to conflict.
The time traveler felt a sense of irony when she remembered the date. A Japanese strike force would attack Pearl Harbor in exactly three years. German forces would invade much of Europe in less than one. By the end of 1941, the greatest war in history, one so many were trying to avoid, would engulf much of the planet.
Susan turned to her left and saw her mother stare at the stage. She could see that Elizabeth was as into the lecture as any professor or student.
So were Amanda and Dot. When Susan turned to her right, she saw two women follow the speaker with rapt attention. They nodded when Jack Hicks outlined his broad theme of military preparedness and smiled when he stated that few had a bigger stake in a strong American military than the young people who might one day be called to serve.
Susan warmed at the sight of her daughter's smile. She worried about Amanda's emotional health in the wake of Bruce Peterson's death and wondered how she would adapt to the loss at an age when many young women needed their fathers most.
She started to return to the lecturer when she saw Amanda tap on Dot's shoulder and point to the blond assistant, who sat in a chair at the back of the stage. Susan laughed. Amanda's unwavering intere
st in the program suddenly made sense.
Susan smiled at the girls and then returned her attention to the learned Admiral Hicks, who had launched into the meat of his speech. She could see from the ease with which he spoke that he had come prepared and knew his subject.
"Some of you may remember from your studies that aircraft carriers played a small but vital role in the Great War," Jack said. "Great Britain deployed at least six aircraft-bearing ships during that conflict, including the HMS Ark Royal, which defended British interests in the Dardanelles, and the HMS Furious, a modified cruiser that saw duty in the North Sea and inspired efforts to expand the scope of naval aviation …"
For the next forty minutes, Jack Hicks, admiral, widower, and library patron, kept his audience on its toes by mixing battle narratives with descriptions of aviation feats. He also paid homage to servicemen in the auditorium, including two Navy flyers who had hunted German submarines in 1918 and a local unit of Army ROTC cadets.
Susan glanced at Dot when Jack mentioned the members of the university's Reserve Officers' Training Corps. She knew that the young woman's fiancé, a product of that corps, had already begun flight training in Riverside, California.
Susan then turned to her mother. She could see by the way she looked at Jack that she was still into his message, but she also knew that Elizabeth had more on her mind than naval aviation. She was counting the days until her parents and infant self completed their journey to Princeton.
Susan turned her attention to the stage just as Jack nimbly shifted from the history of naval aviation to its promise. He said that several new projects were under way but added that recent progress was not enough. He told the audience that the U.S. Navy was not keeping pace with potential belligerents like Germany and Japan.
"We live in a world where a nation's strength is not measured by the size of its economy but rather by the size of its army and the reach of its navy," Jack said. "I hope that my comments tonight will help spur a discussion that is long overdue. I thank you again for the opportunity to speak tonight."
Jack smiled as the audience rose to its feet and gave him a thunderous ovation. He nodded at the ROTC cadets in the front row, took a sip of water, and then yielded the lectern to the Nassau Institute's director.
"I want to thank all of you for attending tonight's lecture and remind you that the series will continue on January 11," Clark Abercrombie said. "Admiral Hicks has informed me that he would be happy to take a few questions from the audience. So, without further ado, I give you back our featured speaker …"
CHAPTER 27: AMANDA
Amanda stood and applauded as Rear Admiral John J. Hicks answered the last of ten questions from his audience and finally called it a night. She admired his passion and eloquence and thought both deserved at least one rousing ovation.
"He's good," Amanda said to Susan as the applause subsided. She looked around to see if others were listening and then whispered in her mother's ear. "The Navy should send him to Pearl Harbor."
Susan looked at Amanda and put a finger to her lips.
"We can talk more about Admiral Hicks later," Susan said.
Amanda nodded.
"Are you in a hurry to leave? Dot and I want to stick around and mingle."
"So do I," Susan said. "I want to say hello to the speaker."
"You know him?" Amanda asked.
Susan nodded.
"I met him at the library two weeks ago. He invited me to come tonight."
"He did?"
"He did."
Amanda raised a brow.
"Suddenly your interest in naval aviation makes sense."
"He's just an acquaintance," Susan said.
Amanda grinned.
"Sure he is."
Susan acknowledged her daughter's comment with a smile and then helped her mother to her feet. She grabbed her purse and looked at Amanda.
"We'll see you back at the house," Susan said.
"OK."
Susan leaned toward Dot.
"It was nice seeing you again, Dot."
"You too, Mrs. Peterson."
Susan returned to Amanda.
"Now go run along and mingle before all the nice young men in this audience find better things to do."
Amanda laughed.
"OK. I will."
"Bye," Susan said.
"Bye."
Amanda watched with interest as Susan guided Elizabeth past several seats to the center aisle. The aisle led to the doors and a lobby where the public could meet and greet Hicks, Nassau Institute officials, and other dignitaries.
She suspected that Susan wanted to do more than say hello to the speaker, but she decided not to make an issue of it. She wanted her mother to get out, socialize, and meet people her own age, even if that meant meeting someone who might someday take her father's place.
Amanda pondered that unsettling possibility as the large hall began to empty. She remained in a daze until her BFF snapped her out of it.
"Well?" Dot asked.
"Well what?"
"Are you going to just stand there all night – or meet Mr. Wonderful?"
"I don't know, Dot. I'm starting to get cold feet."
"Then let me warm them up!"
"I can't do this," Amanda said.
"Sure you can," Dot said. "Just let me do the talking. I know how to handle these things. I have a very subtle touch."
"Oh, all right."
Dot took Amanda's hand and led her to a side aisle and then to the front of the auditorium. They reached their destination just as a young blond man in a crisp white shirt and gray slacks began to push the four-wheeled lectern off the stage.
"Hi!" Dot said cheerfully.
The man stopped to look at the friendly redhead.
"Hello."
"How are you today?" Dot asked.
"I'm fine," the man said. "How are you?"
"I'm fine too. I wasn't fine on Sunday between three and four o'clock or on Monday between six thirty and seven, but I'm fine now. I'm really fine now."
The man looked at Dot like she was an alien from Grovers Mill or a woman fit for a funny farm. He could not have known she was both.
"That's good to hear," the man said. "Can I help you with anything?"
"You can," Dot replied.
"What can I do?"
"You can answer a question."
The man leaned forward.
"OK. What's the question?"
"Will you go out with my friend?"
"Dot!" Amanda exclaimed.
The redhead put her hand to her mouth and tried to stifle a laugh.
"I'm sorry," Dot said. "I couldn't resist."
Amanda glared at her "friend" and turned fifty shades of red. Then she looked at the man and turned fifty shades more.
"Please forgive my friend," Amanda said. "She's not well. She hasn't fully recovered from the science experiment."
The man laughed.
"I suspected as much."
"I'm serious," Amanda said. "She might be nuts for months."
The man laughed again.
"Does your friend have a name?"
"She certainly does," Amanda said. "She's Dorothy Gale, as in The Wizard of Oz. She has a dog named Toto and, for all I know, a few witches in her broom closet."
Amanda glared again at Dot. She glared until she realized that the redhead laughing hysterically and holding her sides was immune to harsh glances.
The man looked at Dot and then at Amanda.
"How about you? Do you have a name?"
"I do," Amanda said. She sighed. "I'm Amanda."
The man stepped away from the lectern, walked to the front of the stage, and slipped over the edge onto the floor. He smiled at each of his visitors.
"Hi, ladies. I'm Kurt, your entertainment this evening."
"Hi, Kurt," Dot said. "I'm Dot. It's nice to meet you."
She shook his hand.
Amanda, still red-faced, did the same.
"Hi."
; Kurt looked at Amanda.
"Is she always like this?"
"I'm not certain," Amanda said. "I just met her."
Kurt turned to Dot.
"Is that true?"
Dot nodded.
"We met last month."
Kurt chuckled.
"You could have fooled me. You relate to each other like old friends."
"It seems that way," Dot said.
Kurt smiled warmly at Dot and then turned to Amanda. He gazed at her for what seemed like an eternity before finally breaking the silence.
"I've seen you before," Kurt said. "I'm sure of it."
"I am too," Amanda replied. "We saw each other at the Yale Ball."
"That's right. I saw you with Dot and two or three men. I assume one was your date."
Amanda smiled.
"You assume correctly. I went to the dance with Dot's fiancé."
Kurt stared at Amanda with wide eyes.
"You did?"
"I did," Amanda said. "What makes it better is that I had Dot's blessing."
Kurt turned to Dot.
"Really?"
"I went to Bryn Mawr," Dot said dryly. "We're very progressive."
Amanda laughed.
"She's just teasing."
"I hope so," Kurt said. He looked at Amanda. "Did you not have your own date?"
"No," Amanda said. "I went with Roy, Dot's fiancé, because it was the only way I could get into the dance. Roy is a Princeton alum."
"I see."
"Are you a Princeton grad?"
Kurt shook his head.
"I attended the University of Virginia. I graduated last spring and moved here in September when I found a job at the Institute."
"Then how did you get into the dance?" Amanda asked.
"A friend of mine gave me a ticket. He's a Princeton senior and intern at the Institute."
"So you went stag?"
"I went stag," Kurt said.
Amanda berated herself for not introducing herself at the dance. She liked this soft-spoken blond with the warm smile and the hearty laugh. He seemed like a nice guy.
"So what exactly do you do at the Institute?" Amanda asked.
"I write press releases and assist the senior fellows in the areas of German-American relations, history, and trade," Kurt said. "I studied history and foreign policy in college."
Mercer Street (American Journey Book 2) Page 14