The Beantown Girls

by Jane Healey

  The color had drained from Dottie’s face, and she listed into me.

  “Oh Jesus,” I said, patting her face. “Someone get me a cup of water. Stay with us, Dottie. Viv, you and the boys take over. Nelson, help me get her out of here.”

  We stepped out of the Clubmobile, and a number of the GIs descended upon us. Someone handed us a blanket, and a medic came over with first aid supplies. They cleared a place for us to sit until the ambulance came. Dottie was still pale as she sipped water. Her injured arm was wrapped tight, but the blood was seeping through again. Liz came running over, and I explained what happened.

  Somewhere behind her, Miss Chambers, Harvey Gibson, and the rest of the Red Cross administrators were in the crowd, shaking hands and talking with the soldiers. “Pistol Packin’ Mama” was on its fourth loop.

  “Nelson, can you please go help Viv, and maybe change the record too?” I said. Sweat was dripping down his face, and he looked crestfallen. “It’s okay, hon, she’ll be all right.”

  “Liz, could you go with Dottie to the hospital?” I asked. “I need to go help Viv; she’ll never be able to serve all these soldiers alone.”

  “I can go with her too.” I looked up at the sound of Joe Brandon’s voice. He was gazing at Dottie with genuine concern and definitely something more. Dottie gave him a weak smile.

  “The Twenty-Eighth’s band is performing here later, so I have a few hours to spare,” he said. “I just heard you were here, so I thought I’d come over to catch up with my favorite Red Cross girls.”

  “That would be great actually,” Liz said to him. “After I see she’s settled at the hospital, I really should head out to meet Gibson’s group at the next camp.”

  “Come on, Dottie, let me help you,” Joe said, reaching down to put her good arm around his shoulder.

  “You’ll be stitched up in no time,” I said, giving her a kiss on the cheek when she got up.

  “Thanks, Fi, I’m sorry . . .” She dropped the cup of water she was holding, and her glasses slipped off her face as she passed out against Joe Brandon. He scooped her up in both arms, carrying her against his chest.

  The medics from the ambulance came running over with a stretcher and helped Joe get her on it and into the back of the ambulance. I handed Dottie’s glasses to Liz, and she promised one of them would give us an update as soon as they could. I felt sick to my stomach, watching them drive away.

  Poor Viv—the crowd of men had tripled in size since Dottie had cut her arm. I rushed inside the Clubmobile, and my feet made a splash on the floor as I stepped into a puddle of coffee at least three inches deep.

  “What the . . . ?”

  Viv looked over at me. Her lipstick had worn off, her hair was frizzy under her hat, and strands of it were sticking to the sweat on her face. She was passing out doughnuts with two hands.

  “Alan was talking to one of his buddies and left the spigot on the coffee urn open.”

  “I’m so sorry, Fiona,” Alan said. “I thought I had shut it off; I didn’t even realize.”

  Nelson was back at work making the doughnuts, doing an adequate job at it except for the doughnut mix that seemed to have exploded all over the counters and the floor. He was standing in a gooey paste of flour and coffee and doughnut grease drippings.

  “Alan, it’s fine, but why don’t I take over coffee? You can take charge of the record player and start passing out candy and cigarettes,” I said.

  “Good idea, because if I hear that song one more time, I’m going to kill myself,” Viv said through her teeth as she smiled and leaned out the side to pass coffee to the front of the line. “How’s our poor Dots?”

  “She’ll be okay,” I said. “Joe Brandon just showed up like a knight in shining armor.”

  “Well, that was convenient,” Viv said. “I still think he’s a wolf.”

  “So do I,” I said with a sigh.

  I started handing out cups of coffee with her, forcing myself to smile and make small talk as I tried not to think about Dottie or how this day had turned out.

  “I don’t need any sugar, sweetheart; just stick your finger in the coffee—that will sweeten it up,” said a soldier with a very dirty beard.

  “You think I haven’t heard that line before, honey?” I said, giving him a smile and a wink. “You’ve got to do better than that.” His friends started to laugh.

  “Hey, girls, good to see you again. Smile for the cameras.” Mr. Gibson walked up to the window with Miss Chambers and a photographer. Gibson was wearing a suit, tie, and fedora, but he didn’t seem the least bit bothered by the heat.

  “Hello, Viv, Fiona,” Miss Chambers said to us. “Mr. Gibson would like to come in and serve up some doughnuts with you girls. Take some pictures.”

  “Do you have an apron that’s big enough to fit around me?” he asked, laughing.

  “I’m sure we do,” Viv said.

  Viv took a quick look at the gooey floor and then back at me, raising her eyebrows. I shrugged. We had to let him come in; there was no getting out of it.

  “Come on in, Mr. Gibson,” I said. “But please watch your step. Things got a little messy when Dottie got hurt, and we haven’t had a chance to clean up yet.”

  “Let me make a quick inspection before you head in, Mr. Gibson,” Miss Chambers said, shooting me a look as she headed toward the door of the Cheyenne.

  “I’ll grab you an apron, Mr. Gibson,” I said, turning around to get one out of the cabinet just as Miss Chambers walked in and gasped at the state of our kitchen.

  Nelson looked up at her. He was covered head to toe in flour—even his hair was dusted with it. The goo on the floor had turned even thicker, and I had no idea how we were going to clean it all up.

  Mercifully, Alan had just left to hand out cigarettes, but he’d forgotten to change the record on the record player like I asked, so the same damn song started for at least the twentieth time. I saw it all through Miss Chambers’s eyes and cringed at what she was probably thinking.

  She was about to speak, but instead she jumped back and screamed as Vera Lynn sprang down from the top shelf onto the floor, meowing loudly at the realization she was up to her paws in stickiness.

  “Oh God, Vera, no,” I said, grabbing Vera around her waist with both hands and shoving her back up on the top shelf, adding “cat” to the list of things we had to clean that night.

  “Congratulations,” Miss Chambers said. She crossed her arms and shook her head, giving her best condescending schoolteacher look. “This is by far the messiest Clubmobile I have ever seen.”

  Nelson started to laugh, but I gave him a look that shut him up fast.

  “You don’t have to tell us,” Viv said, still pouring coffees and handing them out to soldiers with a smile as Miss Chambers stood there in judgment.

  “Yes, it’s a mess,” I said with a sigh as I grabbed another tray of doughnuts to serve. “And I’m sorry for that, and we will scour it tonight. It’s only when Dottie—”

  “I know, the accident—that was unfortunate,” Miss Chambers said, interrupting me. “But it also doesn’t really reflect well on you. You’ve got men to serve, and Mr. Gibson is coming in for a photo op, so I will be brief. Bottom line is, I still have my doubts about you three. I was hoping you would change my mind today. But you didn’t.” She lifted one of her feet off the floor and examined the greasy goo dripping off it. “Anyway, we’ve got to send a few more Clubmobiles over to France in a little over a week. The Cheyenne definitely won’t be in that group.”

  I felt my cheeks start to burn, devastated that we wouldn’t be going with the first group from our Clubmobile class. I wanted to go for Danny, but at this point, I also wanted to go for myself. I knew we were up to the job, and I was angry that Judith Chambers still didn’t think so. I was furious, but I blinked back my tears of frustration quickly so she wouldn’t see.

  “Honestly, things have been going really well overall,” I said. “You can ask Liz. Just today wasn’t—”

&nb
sp; “Yes, but this was your observation day, your day to shine,” she said. “And you didn’t.”

  She paused, stepping back toward the door, taking one more look around at the mess. “Now I’ve got to bring Mr. Gibson in and warn him he might ruin his shoes. Get ready for the pictures. Put on some lipstick, but no bright red, Viviana.”

  She opened the door to step out but turned back, looking Viv and me in the eye.

  “One other thing: I haven’t forgotten—one of you has got to learn how to really drive.”

  With that, she stepped out and the Clubmobile door slammed shut behind her.

  Chapter Fourteen

  That evening, after what was by far our longest day yet, Liz brought a very pale Dottie home, and we settled her in with a blanket on the sofa in the sitting room.

  “She has fifteen stitches up her forearm,” Liz said. “The doctors told her to take a day off to rest and recover before she’s back at it.”

  “I am more than happy to nurse her back to health,” said Mrs. Tibbetts, tucking the blanket around Dottie.

  “I’ve got to run, but Fiona, I need to ask you a big favor,” Liz said.

  “Sure, what do you need?” I asked.

  “I’m sorry to ask this, because I know it’s been a long day already,” Liz said, “but I was wondering if you and Jimmy could make a late-night run, bring coffee and doughnuts to some men that are working overtime at a cement mixer. It broke down yesterday, and now that it’s fixed, they’re making up for lost time by working all night. One of the officers requested it, thought it would really lift their spirits.”

  My back ached from scrubbing down the Clubmobile, and I was in such a sullen mood I doubted I could lift anyone’s spirits. But after the day we’d had, I felt I needed to redeem myself.

  “Yes, happy to do that,” I said, trying to smile.

  “Thank you,” Liz said, visibly relieved. “Jimmy will pick you up in the jeep in about an hour with all the supplies you need; no need to bring the Clubmobile.”

  We said good-bye to Liz, and Mrs. Tibbetts brought out some berry tarts and tea as we filled Dottie in regarding our conversation with Miss Chambers.

  “I’m so sorry,” Dottie said. “I feel like it’s completely my fault that this happened.”

  “Nonsense, Dottie,” I said. “Those huge tins of lard are a pain in the neck to open; it could have happened to any of us.”

  “It’s true,” Viv said, lighting up a cigarette. “And honestly? I don’t think she was going to send us to the Continent no matter what happened today.”

  “Did you at least get to ask Mr. Gibson anything about the IRC tracking down Danny?” Dottie said.

  “No,” I said. That was another reason for my low mood. I was aggravated with myself for not asking when I had the chance. “We were so busy, I swear every soldier in camp turned out for doughnuts, and then the photographer kept taking pictures, and when I finally had a quiet moment to ask Mr. Gibson, he was gone.”

  “So now you’ve got to ask Captain Moretti to see what he can find out,” Viv said, pointing at me with her cigarette. “And maybe don’t lie to him this time about Danny being your fiancé?”

  “I know, I know,” I said. “I will. Although, now it’s going to be awkward because I lied.”

  “Why exactly did you lie?” Dottie asked, frowning at me. “That’s not like you.”

  “No kidding,” I said. “I don’t know. I didn’t want him to look at me differently? It was an impulsive thing to do, and now I feel foolish. Anyway, how was Joe?”

  “Yeah, how was the piano man? Still got the girl at home?” Viv said.

  “Joe was very chivalrous and as handsome as ever,” Dottie said, the color returning to her cheeks at the sound of his name. “I can still smell his Old Spice from when he carried me, which is driving me crazy. And he stayed with me for as long as he could. But yes, he’s still got Mary Jane. I asked him when he tried to hold my hand and kiss me on the cheek. He was almost apologetic about it, but again no mention of breaking it off with her, so I have to tell you, I was in such a bad mood from the day, and my arm was hurting so much, I just let him have it.”

  “Really?” I said. “What did you say?”

  “Oh, I wish we had been there,” Viv said. “Tell us.”

  “I said what kind of guy has a girl at home that he’s supposedly in love with, while trying to kiss another one over here? And what kind of girl does he think I am? I told him I liked him, but I deserve better, and that we could still be friends, but absolutely nothing more unless he breaks it off with Mary Jane.”

  “Of course you deserve better,” I said.

  “Good for you, Dots. So how’d you leave it?” Viv asked.

  “He apologized,” Dottie said, with a sad smile. “Multiple times. He said he was confused, that he had feelings for me, and he hadn’t expected that to happen. He said part of him just wants to live for the moment because, after all, we’re living in the war, but he agreed, I deserve better. And he needed to figure things out.”

  “Figure things out how?” I asked.

  A knock at the front door interrupted our conversation, and I could hear Martha’s voice from the other side. Mrs. Tibbetts hurried over to let our friends in. “We heard you gals had a rough day and came over with a bouquet of freshly picked flowers and a chocolate cake that one of the mess hall cooks baked us,” Martha said, handing Dottie the flowers.

  “And some of our liquor rations to cheer you up,” Blanche said, smiling as she took two bottles of wine out of a paper bag.

  “I’ll fetch us some cups,” Mrs. Tibbetts said, clapping her hands together, happy for our small party.

  “Only a half glass for me,” I said. “I’ve got a date with six men and a cement mixer.”

  “What?” Blanche said, pouring glasses as quickly as Mrs. Tibbetts handed them to her. “You’re kidding? Liz can’t find someone else?”

  “I’m sure she could, but after today, we’ve got to do all we can to stay on her good side,” I said. We filled our friends in on our disastrous observation day, and after some cake and wine, we were feeling a bit less glum about it all.

  “And then at the end of the day, when we had no mop, nothing to clean up that absolutely nasty pond of coffee, flour, and grease, Norman felt so guilty. So he went and grabbed a brace and bit, and we actually had him drill holes in the floor of the Clubmobile to drain it,” I said, shaking my head laughing.

  “We had to—nothing else was going to get rid of it completely,” Viv said.

  “And we’ve got holes in the floor now?” Dottie asked, cringing.

  “We do, but it worked,” I said. “We’ll have to get a little rug or something to hide them next time Miss Chambers comes around.”

  “We might have to try that. We had a huge spill the other day and it was nasty,” Frankie said, reaching for a second piece of chocolate cake.

  “Hey, so Miss Chambers isn’t sending you gals to France, is she?” Viv asked.

  The room got quiet, and Frankie, Blanche, and Martha all looked at each other.

  “You’re going, aren’t you?” I said, the ache in my stomach returning. Our friends were leaving us behind. Viv swore softly as she lit another cigarette. Dottie was on the verge of tears.

  “We are going,” Martha said quietly, putting an arm around Dottie. “And I’m so sorry you girls aren’t coming with us. I’m sure we’ll reunite soon.”

  “When do you leave?” I asked.

  “We head to London in a few days to regroup, and then we go to Southampton from there,” Martha said.

  “We will definitely reunite soon,” Frankie said, nodding. “One of the things that helped our cause is that Martha and I are both great drivers.”

  “Uh, no,” Blanche said. “Martha is a fantastic driver. Frankie, you drive like a crazy person.”

  “I prefer the term fearless,” Frankie said, giving Blanche a fake scowl.

  “Uh-huh,” Blanche said, rolling her eyes. “Anyway, you h
ave to make the next group, you just have to. But who’s going to drive? No offense, but I’ve seen you all in action, and you couldn’t be worse.”

  “Only driver here is me,” Jimmy said, pointing to himself as he walked in from the front hallway.

  “Oh, Jimmy, I didn’t even hear you knock.” Mrs. Tibbetts came in from the kitchen, wiping her hands with a bright-blue tea towel. She raised her eyebrows at the sight of him.

  He stumbled into the sofa and nearly fell on Dottie. And he stank of whiskey.

  “Jimmy, any chance you’ve been at the pub?” I said, frowning.

  “There’s a chicken,” Jimmy said, ignoring my question and pointing to the bird we had named Speckles, who was sleeping in the corner of the room. “What’s a bloody chicken doing in ’ere?” His words slurred together.

  “Swell,” I said, rubbing my hands over my face. “Jimmy, you’re supposed to be driving me to this cement mixer crew. Did you pick up the supplies? Did Liz see you like this?”

  “Picked ’em up. Wasn’t no sign of Miss Liz,” Jimmy said with a shrug. “And I’m fine. Just had me some strong tea—I’m good.” He patted his chest.

  “I think tonight might be the night for a driving lesson for Fiona,” Frankie said, giving me a pointed look.

  “In the pitch black with only cat-eye lights?” I said, cracking my knuckles.

  “Frankie’s right,” Viv said, eyeing Jimmy warily as he tried to stay upright. “Take your flashlight, and have Jimmy give you the directions, if he can remember them.” She stood up and whispered in my ear. “It’s safer with you at the wheel, don’t you think?”

  We both looked at Jimmy, swaying next to the sofa.

  “All right,” I said with a sigh. “Time for my driving lesson, Jimmy. Let’s go.”

  The temperature had dropped at least thirty degrees since the afternoon, a sign that fall was on its way. The rain clouds had cleared, and the lack of artificial light anywhere revealed a brilliant star-filled sky and a nearly full moon. Despite the cool night air, I was sweating as I drove down the country roads with Jimmy as my questionable teacher and navigator. I gripped the steering wheel so hard, my hands hurt as I tried to remember everything I had learned in London.