by Jane Healey
While my grief for Danny would always be a part of me, my entire world had shifted overnight. More than once in this war, my life had changed in an instant. But today, for the first time, that change was for the good. I felt a glow of happiness and contentment that I couldn’t remember ever feeling before.
“You don’t even know how beautiful you are,” Peter said. I looked over at the bed, and he was smiling.
“I’m a mess,” I said, smiling back at him.
“You’re a beautiful mess.”
“I wish I wasn’t going back to Germany tomorrow.” I sat on the edge of the bed, missing him already.
“I know.” He reached for my hand. “Sweetheart, I have to ask, what do you think you’re going to do next?”
I told him about the Red Cross survey.
“With all that’s happened, I don’t want to go home, but I don’t want to go to the Pacific either. Liz said there are definitely positions available in London, Paris, and Berlin. So I’ve decided to stay. I was thinking Paris, though Frankie just asked me to apply to go to Berlin with her, so I’ve been thinking about that.”
He gave me a curious look when I said this.
I looked up at him, nervous but needing to know. “And what happens now for you? Are you going to the Pacific?”
“What happens is I’ve been ordered to Berlin,” he said, reaching over and pulling me across the bed into his arms. “For occupation duty.”
“You’re kidding?” I said.
“I’m not,” he murmured as he kissed me again and then looked into my eyes, his hands in my hair. “Please consider Berlin?”
“Hmm . . . I don’t know,” I teased, smiling as I kissed the scar above his eyebrow.
“Maybe I can convince you . . . ,” he said, pressing his lips against mine with a passion that made me feel light-headed all over again.
“I’ll let you try,” I whispered.
That night, Peter drove me back to Juan-les-Pins and walked me to the door of the Provençal.
“I’ll see you in Paris in three weeks,” he said.
“You sure you’ll be able to get the time off?”
“I’ll make sure,” he said. “I’m never going to let so much time pass before seeing you ever again.”
“Good,” I said. One last embrace, one final kiss, and my heart started to hurt. I must have looked as pained as I felt because Peter took my head in his hands.
“It’s okay,” he said. “This time we’re not saying good-bye forever.”
“I know,” I said. “And I’m so happy for that.”
“I love you.”
“I love you,” I said. “I’ll see you in Paris.”
I watched the jeep drive away and then walked inside, checking the terrace before heading upstairs.
“Well, look who’s here.” Blanche came running up to me and grabbed my hand, pulling me with her. “I’m buying you a drink, and then you are going to tell us where you have been for the past twenty-four hours, my friend.”
“Okay, Blanche,” I said, laughing.
“You’ve got a glow about you, Fi, and I know it’s got nothing to do with the sun.” She looked me up and down. “It’s good to see. And, may I also add, it’s about damn time.”
“Well, well.” Viv was sitting with Dottie, and I couldn’t tell if they were angry or amused. “I’m glad the guys left because we wouldn’t be able to have this conversation with them around. Where the hell have you been?” She swatted me with her arm.
“We got your note, but we were still a bit worried, you know,” Dottie said. “You could have called the hotel at least.”
“I’m so sorry,” I said. “I lost track of the time. I was in Villefranche-sur-Mer. With Peter.”
“I hoped so,” Viv said, giving me a knowing grin.
“I know a lady never talks, but you need to at least give us a few details,” Dottie said.
“More than a few,” Blanche said, handing me my glass of wine as she sat down. “I want all the dirt.”
“Go easy on her, Blanche,” Dottie said.
“Yeah, yeah. Hey, did Dottie tell you her news yet?” Blanche asked. “Because that’s big too. Lots going on at this hotel in the past couple days. I could start a Hôtel le Provençal gossip column.”
“Are you engaged too?” I said, looking at Dottie.
“No,” Dottie said, her cheeks turning pink.
“Dottie, what is it?”
“I got a letter,” Dottie said. “From First Lieutenant Don Hayes, the new leader of Glenn Miller’s band here. Before Glenn Miller went missing, he had talked about offering me a job as a soloist, to go on tour with them for the next six months. They wrote to me because they still want to extend the offer.”
“Dottie!” I said, beaming from ear to ear.
“Can you believe it, Fi? Me?”
“Dottie, I’m so damn proud of you, I might cry,” I said. “And you’re going to take it?”
“I am,” she said. “Joe and I talked about it; I have to take it. It’s once in a lifetime. He said he’d wait for me. I know he will.”
“I think of when we first got here . . .”
“I know, remember that?” Blanche said. “Martha, Frankie, and I were taking bets that you wouldn’t make it, Dots.”
“You did not!” Dottie said, kicking her foot.
“Oh yes, we did,” Blanche said. “And please don’t feel too bad, but I thought you were a goner. Actually, after the doughnut machine exploded at training? I thought you were all goners.”
“Me too,” Viv said, laughing.
“Where is Frankie, by the way?” I asked.
“Frankie is off exploring old town Antibes with Patrick Halloran from the Eighty-Second,” Blanche said. “He’s four years younger than her, but one thing I didn’t realize before? He’s like a male version of Frankie. The kid never stops moving.”
“It’s true,” Viv said. “I don’t know if it’ll last, but it’s good for her.”
“So back to you,” Dottie said. “I haven’t seen you look this happy in over a year. And I couldn’t be more thrilled about it.”
“But is it serious?” Viv said, watching my expression.
“I think . . . yeah, it is,” I said with a nod. I felt my face turn crimson, thinking about all that had happened.
“Good, then he’s got to come to the wedding,” Viv said.
“He will,” I said.
“Perfect,” Blanche said. “But more details on your romantic French getaway, please.”
“Oh shush, Blanche,” Viv said. “Can’t you see you’re looking at a girl who’s head over heels in love?”
“You have to at least tell me that,” Blanche said, eyebrows raised as she pointed her cigarette at me. “Are you? In love?”
I looked around at my friends, my face feeling flushed. I smiled and simply nodded.
“Yes.”
Chapter Twenty-Eight
June 9, 1945
Paris, France
Three weeks later, the five of us were in the bridal suite at the Hotel George V in Paris, getting ready for Viv’s wedding to Harry Westwood.
Frankie, Dottie, Blanche, and I were all wearing pastel-colored cocktail dresses we had purchased in Antibes or Paris for the occasion. I had found a mint-green organza dress at a small boutique in Paris when we arrived the day before. It was sleeveless with a scooped neckline and an A-line skirt. Dottie’s dress was pale pink, Frankie’s pastel blue, and Blanche’s a light yellow.
“We look like Easter eggs,” Blanche said as we stood next to each other, staring into the suite’s large mirror above the dresser.
“We do not,” I said, laughing as I adjusted the dragonfly comb in my hair. “Well, maybe a little.”
“You look beautiful,” Viv said as she walked out of the bathroom, where she had been getting changed. We all gasped. Viv, with the help of Harry’s mother, had tracked down the most gorgeous ivory wedding dress—strapless with a satin sash at the waist and a tulle ski
rt that was floor length and covered with dotted sequins.
“Oh, Viv, look at you,” Dottie said. “Wait until Harry sees you. You’re stunning.”
She looked gorgeous, of course, her auburn curls shining and twisted up in the front underneath a simple ivory lace veil. Her makeup was flawless as always, and her perfect, polished candy-apple-red manicure was back since we weren’t making doughnuts nearly as often anymore.
“Thank you,” Viv said, giving us all hugs as we showered her with compliments.
She looked in the mirror at herself and sighed.
“The only hard part is my family not being here to celebrate with me,” Viv said in a quiet voice. “Thank God I have you four.”
“We’ll stand in for your sisters,” I said, putting my arm around her shoulders.
“You girls are like sisters,” Viv said. “I couldn’t have done this without you.”
“Are you sure I’m going to like this band you found for today, Dottie?” Viv asked. “It was such short notice, I’m surprised you were able to get anyone.”
“I’m sure you’re going to like them,” Dottie said. “And no, we’re not going to tell you any more, it would ruin the surprise.” Dottie winked at me behind Viv’s back as she straightened her veil.
“Just promise me you didn’t grab an old guy with an accordion off the street or something,” Viv said.
“Viv, stop asking,” I said, laughing.
“Hey, were those Harry’s parents I saw downstairs?” Blanche asked as I helped her put her hair in an updo. “The gray-haired Englishman and the blonde woman with the hat that looks like a giant yellow bird hanging off her head?”
“Yes, that’s them,” Viv said. “They’re okay actually, not haughty like I expected, thank God. And I have his mother to thank for finding this dress in time.”
“Where did she find it?” I asked, admiring the sequin detailing as I adjusted the skirt.
“She borrowed it from Queen Elizabeth’s collection, of course,” Viv said, her expression serious.
Frankie’s mouth fell open, and the four of us were quiet for a few seconds as we looked at Viv in shock, but then she smiled.
“Girls, I’m kidding,” Viv said, laughing. “But you should have seen the looks on your faces.”
Blanche was laughing and began to say something, but then put her hand over her mouth and ran into the bathroom, the hairbrush I’d been using still in her hair. We could hear her throwing up behind the closed door. Viv, Dottie, Frankie, and I looked at each other.
“She’s been throwing up like that since we left Antibes,” Frankie said.
“How often? Has she seen a doctor?” I asked.
“Blanche, honey, are you up for this?” Viv asked when she came out, taking her hand. “You poor thing, if you’re sick . . .”
“No, just get me some Coke and crackers and I’ll be fine,” Blanche said, sitting on the edge of the bed. “At least I didn’t throw up on this new dress. I was waiting to tell you all this because I didn’t want to upstage your day, Viv, but Guy Sherry and I are getting married in London in a few weeks.”
“Well, congratulations!” Viv said, hugging her. “You’re not upstaging my day at all.”
“Also, the baby’s due around Christmas,” Blanche said as she reached for her Chesterfields and shrugged. “Whoops.”
We all stood there in stunned silence for the second time in five minutes.
“I had a feeling,” Frankie said, eyes wide as she kissed Blanche on the forehead and got her another Coke.
“Wow,” I said, sitting down on the bed next to her. “How are you doing?”
“Well, I was in shock for a few days. It’s not ideal, of course. I mean, we had talked about getting married but not this soon. Thank God we love each other. I’m crazy about him, as you all know.”
“What are your plans? Any chance you’ll be living in London too?” Viv asked.
“Well, if everything works out, I think he’s going to be stationed here, in Paris,” Blanche said. “If they’ll have me, I’ll work for the Red Cross here, at least until the baby’s born. I just talked to Liz about it.”
“Have you written to your parents to tell them?” Dottie asked, sitting on the other side of her.
“Not yet,” Blanche said. “My mama will figure it out and want to string me up, but she just cares about New Orleans society; none of those old biddies will know.” She sighed. “I think we’ll be okay. Will you help me finish my hair, Fi?”
“Yes,” I said, giving her a hug. “And you’re going to be better than okay.”
At 4:15 p.m., with our bouquets of white tulips in hand, we walked downstairs and waited on the landing of the staircase. Jimmy English, accompanied by our dear Mrs. Tibbetts, had arrived the night before from Leicester. Per Viv’s request, he was waiting at the bottom of the stairs, ready to escort Viv into the ceremony and give her away. Jimmy was dressed in a fine-looking navy-blue suit and seemed like a man reborn. Gone were the bloodshot eyes and beaten-down look from when we had first met him. Mrs. Tibbetts, dressed in a pretty light-blue floral dress, kissed him on the cheek and went to find a seat.
The three of us stood side by side, checking ourselves one last time in the enormous gilded mirror on the landing. It reminded me of our first day on the Queen Elizabeth, when they had found me crying in the bathroom. It felt like decades ago.
“You look stunning,” I said to Viv in a soft voice.
“You do, Viv,” Dottie said, eyes glistening.
“I didn’t know I could feel this happy,” Viv said, biting her lip and blinking back tears.
“Ah, the LIFE magazine cover girls.” We all looked up, surprised to see Miss Chambers walking down the stairs. She gave us a huge smile. “You all look beautiful. Congratulations, Viviana.”
“Thank you for coming, Miss Chambers,” Viv said.
“Thank you for inviting me,” Miss Chambers said. “I also want you to know that Colonel Brooks’s request has been approved. You will all be receiving Bronze Stars from the US Army. So more congratulations are in order, ladies.” She paused, looking at the three of us, a mixture of amusement and pride lighting her face. “As you know, I had my doubts about you three. But I couldn’t be prouder of how far you’ve come.”
We all thanked her, and she walked downstairs. The music started moments later—“Canon in D,” played by a small string quartet.
“It’s time, ladies,” Frankie called from the bottom of the stairs. Blanche was standing next to her, shoving another cracker in her mouth.
Frankie walked down the aisle first, followed by Blanche, Dottie, and finally me.
The room where the ceremony was taking place was decorated in tulle and tulips, and many of our Red Cross and military friends were in attendance. I tried not to look desperate as I scanned the sea of faces. When I spotted Peter sitting next to Joe in the back of the room, my stomach did a little flip and I felt my face grow warm. He gave me a smile and mouthed hello, and I winked at him.
My friends and I took our places at the front, next to the Royal Air Force chaplain, Reverend Payton. Harry and his groomsmen, all in dress uniform, were on the opposite side of him. Jimmy walked Viv down the aisle, and as soon as Harry caught a glimpse of her, he bit his lip and I thought I saw a tear in his eye. The look of love between Viv and Harry was undeniable, and my heart was full for my dear friend. I spotted Harry’s parents sitting in the front row, and there was no doubt they saw what everyone else had, that their son was happy and madly in love.
Jimmy kissed Viv on the cheek and sat down beside Mrs. Tibbetts, who was smiling and crying at the same time. When the ceremony was over, the whole audience cheered and threw confetti as we made our way across the lobby into the ballroom where the reception would take place.
“Are they ready?” I asked Dottie as we walked across the hall.
“Oh yeah,” Dottie said, giving me a conspiratorial look.
“And are you?” I said.
“More
than ever. I’m just going to go powder my face.”
Dottie hurried off, and as I was walking toward the ballroom, I noticed Peter before he saw me. I ran up behind him and tapped him on the shoulder, laughing as he pulled me into a hallway off the main lobby and gave me a long, lingering kiss.
“Hello, sweetheart,” he said in my ear. “I’ve been thinking about doing that for three weeks.”
“You made it.”
“I wouldn’t miss it. And I got your letter about the transfer to Berlin going through right before I left,” he said, holding me close. “Best news I’ve ever had.”
“Yes, Liz said I had my pick, and I’m even getting a promotion out of the deal,” I said. “We’ll finally be in the same city for a while.”
“For more than a while,” he said, looking into my eyes.
I saw Dottie rush through the lobby behind him.
“Come on,” I said, grabbing his hand. “We have the best surprise.”
I felt thrilled and content as I held Peter’s hand, and we walked into the ballroom together. I introduced him to Liz, ChiChi, Doris, and other friends as we made our way to the table at the front of the room. Blanche and Frankie were standing with Viv and Harry, who really did look like royalty as people came up to congratulate them.
Guy came over with a Coke and crackers for Blanche and started rubbing her back. People were whispering, looking at the number of seats and instruments on the stage in front of us.
“What band were you able to get on such short notice?” Peter said, frowning at all of us. “It looks more like an orchestra.”
Joe Brandon took the stage then, holding a glass of champagne as he tapped the microphone.
“Viv and Harry,” Joe said. Viv looked slightly confused, wondering why Joe was the first to give a speech. “Two things: first, I would like to propose a toast. Wishing you a life of love, health, and happiness. To Viv and Harry!”
“To Viv and Harry!” The entire room toasted the happy couple.
“Now, your best friends concocted this crazy surprise for your wedding reception, and they actually pulled it off. For your entertainment tonight, I would like to introduce . . .” He paused, and now Viv and Harry looked nervous. “The late Major Glenn Miller’s American Band of the Allied Expeditionary Forces, conducted by Ray McKinley and accompanied by their new guest soloist, Dottie Sousa!”