The Girls of Pearl Harbor

by Lane, Soraya M.

  ‘Is there anything you’d like to say?’ April asked, interrupting Eva’s thoughts with a gentle hand to her shoulder. ‘About your Charlie?’

  Eva stared at the ocean for a moment, before shutting her eyes, which were burning so intensely it was almost painful to see through them.

  ‘No.’

  What was she supposed to say? She’d loved Charlie with all her heart; they’d been best friends before they’d fallen in love, and she’d loved him because he was determined to protect her when no one else even knew how much pain she was in. What she suffered on a daily or weekly basis.

  Without him, she would be going home to her father—a man who loved reminding her how useless she was, what a disappointment she was, and what an easy target she was for his fists. A man who’d laughed when Charlie had said he was going to marry her. A man who’d thrown her out and told her never to come back. And if she didn’t go home, where would she go?

  His cruel words echoed in her head, so hard to ignore as the memories played over and over through her mind.

  ‘You think that a man wants anything more from you than a quick roll in the hay?’ He laughed. ‘Think again, sweetheart. No one wants you.’

  She lifted her gaze, knowing it was going to come with punishment but no longer caring.

  ‘You’re wrong.’

  He hated the taunt, hated that she’d dared to answer him back. But as he punched her stomach, always in a place where no one could see the bruises, she smiled, because it was so close to being over.

  ‘Eva, I know this is hard for you—we understand—but . . . ,’ April said.

  She dragged herself from her thoughts, from the memories that kept playing like a film through her mind. ‘I should have let him go and join the Eagles,’ she heard herself say. Her voice seemed so distant, so much deeper than she expected it to sound, as if she were hearing it for the first time. ‘If I’d let him go instead of begging him to stay here, he’d probably still be alive, wouldn’t he? So maybe the fact he’s dead is my fault.’

  April was shaking her head as Grace began to cry softly again, still standing beside Teddy.

  ‘Don’t say that, Eva. No one expected this; no one knew this was coming,’ she said, reaching for her as she spoke. ‘This was not your fault.’

  Eva moved sideways just enough that April’s hand collided with air instead of her body. She didn’t want to be touched or coddled or part of some memorial service. Charlie was gone, and nothing was going to change that.

  ‘Eva, the only ones to blame for this are the Japs,’ Teddy said, suddenly in front of her, his big frame blocking the sunlight from her eyes. It was a relief to have shade and not have to squint.

  ‘Charlie couldn’t fly for the Eagles without turning his back on his own men and his country; you know that as well as I do, and I think he knew that too. But he was a fighter, and it’s why he wasn’t content sitting around and waiting,’ he said. ‘Leaving to fly with them was no more than a pilot’s frustration combined with a pipe dream—you hear me? There was no way he was going to Europe without his squadron.’

  Eva nodded, more to get Teddy off her case than because she agreed with him. Because he was wrong; Charlie hadn’t been dreaming about going—he would have found a way to leave if she hadn’t been the persistent ball and chain dragging behind him and forcing him to stay.

  ‘Can you give us a minute?’ April asked, stepping between Teddy and Eva.

  Teddy nodded and touched Eva’s arm as he passed, walking quietly away down the beach with Grace beside him.

  ‘Eva, I think you’re in shock,’ April said softly, beckoning for her to sit in the soft sand with her. ‘It’s understandable, given what you’ve gone through, and so many of our nurses and men are the same right now.’

  Eva stared at the water, not able to look at April.

  ‘I want you to know that I’m here for you. Losing Poppy, it’s like someone is kicking me in the stomach and winding me at times, and other times I carry on and don’t think about her. Then I feel so guilty that I’ve just gone about my day without acknowledging that she didn’t make it, that she’s not here with us.’

  Eva opened her mouth, but nothing came out. She moistened her lips and tried again, shuddering as she fought to say the words. She wondered if April even knew what a blow to the stomach actually felt like.

  ‘He was all I had,’ she finally managed. ‘It’s just, without him, I . . .’

  April took her hand and linked their fingers. ‘He’s not all you have, Eva. You have me and Grace—we’re here for you—and you have your family and your work.’

  She shook her head, breathing in deep, then letting out a big loud exhale. ‘You don’t understand.’

  April never let go of her hand. ‘Try me. You might be surprised.’

  Eva wanted to tell her, but she couldn’t. She’d never told anyone the whole truth about her father; Charlie was the only one who’d ever known.

  ‘Maybe you should apply for leave? After what you’ve been through, you should be allowed to go home to your family, for a—’

  ‘No!’ she gasped, reeling at the thought of going back.

  April looked surprised, her face a question mark of expression, but she recovered and patted her hand in a motherly kind of way. ‘All right, maybe not. But time off from work at least, for as long as you need.’

  Eva shut her eyes, squeezing them, wondering if tears would stop the burning pain in her eyeballs. But still they didn’t come.

  ‘We can sit here all day if you like,’ April said, as if she were talking to a child. ‘Just you and me, for as long as you need. We don’t even have to talk.’

  Eva wondered about Grace, whether she’d need her sister and come looking for them, but she didn’t ask. All she could think about was the feel of April’s warm hand in hers, the breeze lifting her loose hair from the back of her neck, and the roaring that was starting to get louder as she stared at the ocean.

  Maybe it was the water calling to her, telling her that her idea about flinging herself into the aqua-blue depths was the right one. Or perhaps it was her body fighting against the pain, refusing to let her collapse into the web of grief that she knew must surely be waiting to catch her.

  ‘Farewell, my friend,’ she heard April whisper.

  Farewell, Poppy, Eva thought, listening to the words echo in her mind. Goodbye, Charlie.

  Perhaps the Japanese would bomb them to oblivion and reunite her with Charlie. Maybe their boat would sink, and she’d end up in the ocean anyway. Or maybe this was the world’s way of showing her that she didn’t deserve happiness. Maybe her father had been right.

  Just when she’d found herself, found the one thing she was good at, the one thing that no one could take away from her, the rug had been pulled out from beneath her. If she didn’t know better, she’d have thought it was her father playing a cruel trick on her to prove that she’d never, ever be able to escape him.

  ‘We’re going to survive this,’ April murmured to her. ‘No matter what, we’re going to get through this.’

  Eva lay back on the sand, wondering if April was ever going to let go of her hand.

  She had another two hours before she had to go back to her boat, and for now she was just going to lie. Be still. And then she’d go back, start her nighttime nursing shift, and do the one thing she was good at. Because if she had to suffer through all this, she could at least keep nursing the men who needed her. And it was better than sitting in bed and wondering what was wrong with her that she couldn’t even shed a tear for the man she loved and the friend she’d lost.

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHRISTMAS EVE, 1941

  APRIL

  The thing about Hawaii was that it was never cold. Every day felt like summer; when it was raining, it was still tropical, and the humidity reminded April that she was on an island. It doesn’t even feel like Christmas tomorrow. It was strange, staring at the clouds as they rolled past overhead and trying to imagine that if they
were at home, they’d be following all their usual Christmastime traditions. There would be a tree in the corner of the living room, adorned with pretty decorations their mother had collected when she was first married. April would be in charge of cooking Christmas lunch, as always, and Grace would be sitting on the counter picking at what April was preparing, her legs dangling as she chatted about everything and anything.

  She’d often bemoaned having to be the one doing everything at Thanksgiving and Christmas, taking on that role of mother, but now that she wasn’t at home, she wished she were there. That things could go back to normal, that Poppy were still with them. If they were at home, Poppy’s mother would be waiting to welcome them. They’d arrive at Poppy’s on Christmas Eve and be enveloped in warm hugs and kisses; there would be stockings hanging with gifts, and little homemade gingerbread cookies paired with warm, milky eggnog.

  She looked down at the letter clasped tightly between her fingers, blinking away fresh tears as she reread her words. Grace had said she’d write to Poppy’s mother, but part of her wondered if her sister would ever get around to it, and she didn’t want to keep asking her. Besides, Poppy’s mother had been so supportive of them, always helping with her kind words and advice, sharing recipes and being there for her whenever she’d needed someone to lean on.

  Dear Deborah,

  The grief we’ve all felt since Poppy’s passing has been immense. When I say that she was a light in all our lives, it’s no exaggeration. Until that day, we were having the time of our lives. I’m sure she wrote to tell you herself, but the weeks we had here in peace were weeks that I’ll never forget. We went horseback riding and on picnics, we walked and explored, and we danced until our feet hurt.

  Teddy is understandably devastated, and I hope you know what a kind, loving man he was to Poppy. He never ceased to put a smile on her face, her eyes always lit up when she saw him, and I can’t imagine how much he must be missing her.

  When I tell you that I understand your loss, you know that I mean it. You were there for me when our mother passed, and without your support I don’t know what I would have done. Your house was a second home to us, and Poppy was truly my best friend in the world. When I’m able to return, I want you to know that nothing will change between us. You have lost your daughter, but I will always think of you as my other mother, and I hope that I can help in the same way for you.

  With all my love and prayers,

  April

  There were no words to say how she was truly feeling, the pain inside of her at every turn, but she hoped that the letter would at least give Poppy’s mother something to hold on to. She’d lost her only daughter, just as April had lost her only mother, so she knew precisely how that kind of pain could rip a person in half and make it feel impossible to ever move forward.

  ‘April!’

  She quickly wiped her eyes and tucked the letter into its envelope.

  ‘I didn’t expect to see you out here.’

  April smiled when she saw Dr. Grey approaching, finding it impossible not to return his warm greeting.

  ‘I was getting some fresh air,’ she said. ‘I feel so claustrophobic in there sometimes with all the blackout blankets.’

  He grimaced. ‘I know the feeling. The humidity and lack of air is unbearable.’

  She’d heard they were installing new curtains or blinds that would allow them to at least open the windows a crack, but she didn’t bother telling Dr. Grey. She was certain the doctors would be briefed on such matters well before the nurses anyway.

  ‘Do you have plans to celebrate Christmas tomorrow, or do you have a shift?’ he asked.

  She fell into step beside him when he started walking. ‘I’m looking forward to Christmas lunch and some festivities before working in the evening. How about you?’

  He met her eyes when he glanced at her, and she quickly looked away. There was something about the doctor that rattled her, the way he smiled at her, his command in the operating theater, the way he seemed so confident whatever he was doing. She couldn’t pretend it didn’t appeal to her, because it did.

  ‘I’m hoping for a few hours of extra sleep, to tell you the truth,’ he said. ‘If I’m not called in early, that is. I feel like I never get out of that damn hospital some days.’

  April grinned. ‘I think we all know that feeling. The last few weeks . . .’

  She didn’t need to finish her sentence; they all knew what the past weeks had been like, and what they’d endured didn’t need to be relived. But the surgeons were always on call, so it was even worse for them than for the nurses sometimes.

  They’d reached the hospital doors now, and Dr. Grey stopped, his hand skimming her arm and taking her by surprise. ‘Merry Christmas, April,’ he said quietly, his gaze warm and steady.

  She felt her cheeks flush. ‘Merry Christmas,’ she replied.

  April stood as he turned and disappeared, wondering if he was so friendly with all the nurses. She clutched the envelope and kept walking, needing to mail her letter before it was too late. The sky was slowly getting darker, the sun fading for the day, and she had things to do before nightfall and the early curfew that kept them all inside after dark.

  ‘Can you believe it’s Christmas Eve?’ April smiled over at her sister as they sipped tea and sat on their beds. The past weeks had been weird and desolate without Poppy. She’d felt closer to Grace than she had in a long while. Her sister had apologized profusely for her outburst the day of the bombing, and even though she would have forgiven her regardless, it was good to see a more thoughtful, grown-up side to Grace.

  ‘I thought we’d be dancing until midnight and having a Christmas like no other this year,’ April said. Instead they were still all on edge, waiting for something else to happen, even though the more days that passed with no Japanese soldiers coming running down the beach to capture them or blasting them from overhead, the less likely it was that it would happen. Or so they hoped.

  ‘Eva, what would you be doing if you were home this Christmas?’ April asked, wondering if they’d done the right thing inviting their friend over. They weren’t technically supposed to have any visitors to their quarters, but given everything that had happened, she was hoping the punishment wouldn’t be too severe if they were caught. Eva was another nurse; it wasn’t like they’d smuggled someone’s sweetheart in.

  ‘I’d be going over to Charlie’s,’ Eva said, her hands folded in her lap and her gaze fixed past April. ‘His family was always very welcoming, and I was there as often as I could be.’

  ‘Just like us with Poppy,’ April said, glancing at her sister and pleased to see that she was smiling at the memory. ‘And what of your own family? Did you have any special traditions?’

  She noticed the way Eva’s back straightened and saw her clasp her hands tight.

  ‘I’ve been told to return home,’ Eva said, taking April by surprise.

  ‘Oh. Well, maybe that’s for the best. You’ve been through a lot,’ April said. Eva had been so confident and capable, and now she was a shell of her former self.

  ‘You don’t want to go?’ Grace asked. ‘I thought you’d be desperate to get away from here.’

  Eva’s face contorted in the most painful way, and April quickly shuffled closer to her as Grace did the same on the other side.

  ‘Eva, what is it? What’s wrong?’

  ‘I can’t go home,’ she said, shaking her head and biting down on her lip. ‘I don’t want to be here, but I can’t go home either.’

  April exchanged looks with Grace and saw that her sister seemed as confused as she was. ‘You can talk to us. If there’s something we can do, if there’s anything that . . .’

  ‘Charlie was the only one who could help me. When we got married, it was all going to change; I was going to be safe.’

  April hugged her and held on to her for a long time, feeling Eva’s big shuddering breaths. ‘Eva, can you talk to us about it?’

  Eva shut her eyes before whispering, ‘No.�
��

  Grace was shuffled tight against their grieving friend now, too, and April racked her brain. Eva wasn’t exactly the shrinking violet type; before Charlie’s death she’d been as determined and forthright as could be, which made April think that whatever was spooking her was no small thing. What had happened to that confident navy nurse?

  ‘Would you rather take time to grieve and recuperate on the island here?’ April asked. ‘Instead of being sent home, I mean?’

  Eva nodded and looked up. ‘Yes,’ she whispered, her voice quavering.

  April thought it through before speaking again. She didn’t want to overpromise, but she wasn’t going to sit by and do nothing when Eva was clearly so terrified. ‘What if we could billet you to a private residence somehow? I’m sure we could find somewhere for you, and then you can take your time before coming back to nursing.’

  Eva shook her head, and April noticed that Eva’s eyes were swimming with tears. She’d never, ever seen her cry before, even after everything she’d lost.

  ‘But that’s it—I can’t nurse if I go on leave,’ Eva said. ‘The Solace is leaving for the South Pacific, and if I’m not on it then—’

  ‘Then you can nurse with us,’ April said, not pausing to consider whether it was even possible to transfer like that. But the army wasn’t exactly overrun with highly trained, capable nurses, so she couldn’t see why not. ‘I’ll do everything I can to help you transfer.’

  Eva didn’t say anything, but April saw a brightness return to her eyes.

  ‘So she takes the time she needs to recover,’ Grace said, ‘and then she works with us? You really think you could make that happen?’

  April didn’t like overpromising, but she could see that Eva was looking hopeful. ‘Yes,’ she replied. ‘You need sleep, Eva. The skin around your eyes is so dark it’s almost black. And you need to cry,’ she said softly. ‘You have so much grieving to do.’