Lone Eagle Part 7

When she went home for the Thanksgiving weekend, she looked better than the last time they saw her. And she seemed a little more peaceful. She talked about Joe at dinner with their friends, and was surprisingly knowledgeable about what was happening in Europe. And understandably, she had strong opinions about the Germans, and didn't mince words.

In the end, much to everyone's relief, it proved to be a very pleasant Thanksgiving. And she went to bed that night grateful that she had seen Joe only a month before. She had no idea when he'd come home again, but she knew that the closeness they had shared would hold her for as long as it had to. It was hard to believe he'd already been away for two years.

She slept badly that night, in a sleep filled with odd dreams and strange feelings that woke her through the night. She told her mother about it in the morning, and she teased Kate that she'd probably eaten too much chestnut stuffing.

"I used to love chestnuts when I was a child," Elizabeth said, making breakfast for her husband, "and my grandmother always said they'd give me indigestion. They still do, but I love them anyway." Kate felt better that morning. She went shopping with a friend that afternoon, and they had tea at the Statler, which made her think of Joe and the night they'd spent there. And by the time she came home, she was in good spirits. But even when she was, she was more serious these days. She seemed more sensible, and not as mischievous as she had been before she went to college. It was as though knowing Joe, or maybe just fearing for him in the circ.u.mstances he was in, had turned her further inward. She kept to herself more than she ever had.

She went back to school on Sunday night, and had nightmares again, and as she woke from a bad dream, she could still remember seeing planes falling all around her. The dream had been so loud it seemed real. It made her feel so panicky that she got out of bed and went to get dressed long before any of the others had risen, and she went to the dining room for breakfast very early, and sat there quietly alone.

She didn't know why, but she had bad dreams all week, and couldn't sleep at night. She was exhausted when her father reached her on Thursday afternoon, and Kate was startled to hear Clarke's voice. He had never once called her at Radcliffe. He asked if she'd like to come home for dinner that night, and she told him she had work to do, but the more she tried to get out of it, the more insistent he became, and she finally relented and agreed. It seemed odd to her, and she was a little concerned. She wondered if one of them was sick, and they wanted to tell her. She hoped not.

As soon as Kate walked into the house, she knew something had happened. Her parents were waiting for her in the living room, and her mother had her back to her so Kate wouldn't see her crying. She was devastated for her.

It was her father who told her the news. He felt more capable of it than Kate's mother did. As soon as Kate sat down, he looked straight at her and told her he'd gotten a telegram that morning, and he had called Washington himself to find out everything he could.

"I don't have good news," he said, as Kate's eyes grew wide. This wasn't about them, she suddenly realized, it was about her, and she could feel her heart pound. She didn't want to hear what he was saying, but she knew she had to. She didn't make a sound as she watched his face. "Joe listed you as his next of kin, Kate, along with some cousins he hasn't seen in years." Kate's mother had accepted the dreaded telegram, and called Clarke at the office, as she opened it. And Clarke had immediately called someone he knew in the War Department for further details, none of which were good. He didn't waste more time then. Kate was holding her breath. "He was shot down over Germany last Friday morning." It had been a week, and on Thursday night she had begun having those hideous dreams about planes free-falling through the sky. It had been Friday morning in Europe. "They saw his plane go down, and they have a rough idea of where he landed. He parachuted out at the last minute, and he may have been killed on the way down, or he may have been captured. But they've had no word of him through their underground sources since. There's been no sign of him on the lists of officers who've been captured. He's flying under a different name, but neither the one he's using, nor his real name has shown up. There's some concern that he may be being held secretly, or that the Germans have killed him. I believe he may have been aware of cla.s.sified information, which would make him of considerable interest to the Germans, if they're aware of who he really is. Joe is quite a prize because of his own history, he's a real plum for them, because he's a national hero." She was staring at her father dumbly, trying to absorb what he had told her, and for a moment, there was no reaction whatsoever from her. "Kate... Allied Intelligence doesn't think he made it," he summed up for her. "And even if he did, the Germans won't let him live long. He's probably dead by now, or either the Americans or the British would have heard something about him." She stared at her father with wide eyes, and was too stunned to speak for a minute, as her mother moved closer to her and put an arm around her shoulders.

"Mom... is he dead?" she asked in the voice of a lost child, trying to understand what someone speaking a foreign language had just told her. She couldn't absorb it. Her heart refused to know. It was like a terrifying echo of the day her mother had told her that her father died. And in some ways, this was worse. She had loved Joe too much.

"They think so, dear," her mother said softly, aching for her only daughter. Kate was sheet white and looked sh.e.l.l-shocked. She started to get up, and then sat down, as her father looked at her with eyes filled with sympathy and regret.

"I'm sorry, Kate," he said sadly. She could see that there were tears in his eyes, not only for Joe, but for her.

"Don't be," Kate said sharply as she stood up. She wasn't going to let this happen to her. She couldn't. Or to him. She didn't believe it, and never would, until they were sure. "He's not dead yet. If he were, someone would know it," she insisted as her parents exchanged an unhappy glance. It was not the reaction they had expected, or one she had planned. She refused to accept it. "We just have to know that Joe is going to be okay, Mom ... Dad... that's what he'd expect of us."

"Kate, the man landed in Germany, surrounded by Germans who were out looking for him. He's a famous flying ace. They're not going to let him out alive, even if he was alive when he landed. You have to face that." Her father's voice was firm. He didn't want her deluding herself.

"I don't have to face anything," she shouted at him, as she ran out of the living room, up the stairs, and slammed her bedroom door.

Her parents looked stunned as they watched her go, and had no idea what to say to her. They had expected her to be devastated, and instead she was enraged at them and the rest of the world. But once in her room, with the door firmly closed, Kate threw herself on her bed and began to sob. She lay there and cried for hours, thinking of him and how wonderful he was. She couldn't bear the thought of what had happened to him, it wasn't possible, it wasn't fair, all she could think of now were her terrible dreams for the past week, and how he must have felt when he was shot down. And he had promised her he had a hundred lives.

It was late that night when her mother finally dared to slip into the room, and when Kate turned to look at her, her mother saw that she had red, swollen eyes. She went to sit next to her on the bed, and Kate sobbed in her arms.

"I don't want him to be dead, Mommy...," she said, crying like a child, as tears of pain for her only child slid down her mother's cheeks.

"Neither do I," Elizabeth said. For all her qualms about him, he was a decent man, and didn't deserve to die at thirty-three. And Kate didn't deserve a broken heart. None of it was fair. Nothing had been fair in the past two years. "We just have to pray that he'll be all right." She didn't want to continue to reason with Kate that he was probably already dead. That would come in time. It was hard enough to accept that he'd been shot down. And if they didn't find him eventually, even Kate would have to accept that he was gone. She didn't have to face it now, it was obviously far too painful for her. Her mother stayed with her until late into the night, and stroked her hair lovingly until she fell asleep, making the little snuffling sobs that come after a child has cried for too long. It nearly broke her mother's heart.

"I wish she didn't love that man so," Elizabeth said to Clarke when she finally came to bed. He was so worried about Kate that he had waited up for his wife. "There's something between those two that frightens me." She had seen it the year before in Joe's eyes, and she could see it now in Kate's. It defied reason and time and words, it was like a tie between their souls that even they did not understand. And what frightened Kate's mother now was if the tie proved to be unseverable by death as well. It would be a terrible fate for Kate.

Kate was silent and grim at the breakfast table the next day, and any attempt to speak to her went ignored. She said nothing to either of them, drank only a cup of tea, and then drifted back upstairs like a ghost. She stayed home from school, and for the rest of the weekend, never left her room. Fortunately, she only had one more week of school, before the Christmas break.

But on Sunday night, she dressed and went back to Radcliffe, and never even said goodbye to them. She was like a disembodied soul. She spoke to no one in the house, and when Beverly came to say h.e.l.lo to her and ask if she'd been sick over the weekend, Kate never told her that Joe's plane had been shot down. She couldn't bring herself to say the words, and she cried herself to sleep every night.

Everyone in the house at Radcliffe knew something had happened to her, and it was several days later that someone saw a small article in the newspaper that he had been shot down. Military Intelligence had decided to keep it as low key as they could, so as not to demoralize people at home. They said he was missing in action, and the newspaper was noticeably vague. But it told them all they needed to know. All the girls in her house knew that Joe Allbright had visited Kate.

"I'm sorry...," some of them whispered as they pa.s.sed her in the hall. And all she could do was nod and look away. She looked terrible, lost weight, and she looked tired and ill when she went home for the Christmas break. And all her mother's efforts to comfort her were in vain. All Kate wanted was to be left alone, as she waited for news of Joe.

She asked her father to call his contact in Washington again before the holidays, but there was no further news. There had been no sign of Joe, and no word through underground sources. The Germans had not reported capturing him, and in fact had denied it when they were asked. No one identified by the name on his papers had surfaced anywhere. And if they knew they had captured Joe Allbright, they would have said so and counted it as a real victory against the Allies. And no one had seen him escape, or alive since he'd gone down. There was no sign of him anywhere.

There was no Christmas for any of them that year. Kate hardly did any Christmas shopping, didn't want any gifts from them, took forever to open the ones she got, and spent most of her time in her room. All she could do was think of him, where he was, what had happened to him, if he was still alive, if she would ever see him again. She thought constantly of the times they had, and she regretted even more bitterly now having lost the baby they had conceived the year before. She was inconsolable and unreachable, she hardly ever slept anymore, and she was rail thin.

She scoured the newspapers for some word of him, but her father had already a.s.sured her that they would be called before anything more appeared in the press. And he suspected that there would never be. He had probably been dead for weeks by then, and was lying somewhere in Germany in a shallow grave. To Kate, the thought of it nearly drove her insane. It was as though part of her very being had been cut away, or some deep internal piece of her that she didn't even know was there had been gouged out. She either lay on her bed, staring at the wall, or paced her room at night, feeling like she was about to explode out of her own skin, and nothing helped. She even got drunk one night, and her parents said nothing to her about it the next day. They were desperate, and had never seen anyone as grief-stricken. She was keening for him, and nothing was going to help her now except time.

When she went back to school, she failed an exam for the first time. Her advisor called her in, and asked if something had happened over the holidays. Kate looked terrible, and in a strangled voice she explained that a close friend of hers had been shot down on a mission over Germany. At least it explained her grades. The woman expressed her sympathy, and hoped that Kate would feel better soon. She was very kind and very sweet, she had lost her own son in Salerno the previous year. But nothing anyone said to her offered any solace to Kate. And when she wasn't feeling devastated, she was consumed with rage, at the Germans, at the fates, at the man who had shot him down, at him for letting it happen to him, at herself for loving him so much. She wanted to be free of it, but she knew nothing would ever free her of him. It was too late.

And when Andy saw her after she got back from Christmas break, at first he felt sorry for her, and then he scolded her. He told her she was feeling sorry for herself, that she always knew it could happen to him. And in Joe's case it could have happened anytime, anywhere, while he did death-defying stunts in planes, aerobatics, or raced. Thousands of other women were in the same boat she was in. She and Joe weren't married, they didn't have kids, she wasn't even engaged. But what Andy said to her only made her furious with him.

"Is that supposed to make me feel better? You sound like my mother. Do you think a ring on my finger would make any difference to me? It wouldn't mean a G.o.dd.a.m.n thing to me, Andy Scott, and it wouldn't change what happened to him. Why is everyone so obsessed with social rituals? Who gives a d.a.m.n? He's probably in some G.o.dd.a.m.n awful prison camp being tortured for what he knows. Do you think a ring on my finger would make a difference to them? Of course not. And it wouldn't to Joe. It wouldn't have made him love me more, or me love him more. I don't care about the ring," she started to sob, "I just want him to come home." She folded into Andy's arms like a broken doll.

"He's not going to, Kate," Andy said as he held her, while she sobbed. "You know that. The chances that he'll come home are a million to one." If that.

"It could happen. Maybe he'll escape." She refused to let hope die.

"Maybe he's dead," Andy said, trying to force her to face the truth. More likely than not, he was. Kate knew it too, but she didn't want to hear it from anyone. She couldn't face it yet. "Kate, I can only imagine how hard it is, but you have to get over this. You can't let it tear you apart." The worst thing was she had no choice. She was doing the best she could, but she was drowning in her fears for him, her own sense of panic and loss. She had no idea how she was going to exist if he was gone. And yet, even at her worst, she had an inexplicable sense that he was still alive. It was as though there were a part of her that hadn't let go of him yet, and she wondered if she ever would. She felt bound to him for life.

She and Andy went to dinner at the cafeteria, and he forced her to eat. And that weekend he insisted that she come to watch him at a swimming meet against MIT. She actually had a good time, in spite of herself, and forgot her miseries for a short while. And everyone was excited when Harvard won.

She waited for him afterward, and they went out to eat, and then he took her back to the house. She looked better than she had a few days before, and he felt sorry for her when she told him that she'd had a dream about Joe. She was convinced he was still alive, and Andy was sure her mind was playing tricks on her. She wasn't willing to accept the possibility that he had died when he was shot down.

Eventually, it became a sore subject with her, whenever the topic came up with family or friends. People would tell her how sorry they were to have heard about Joe, and then she would insist that he was probably in a German prisoner of war camp somewhere. In time, people stopped mentioning it to her at all.

By the time summer rolled around, Joe had been gone for seven months. His last letters to her had come a month after he had been shot down, and she still read them at night, and lay in bed for hours, thinking of him. Everyone said she had to let go of him, that he was gone, but her heart refused to open and release him like a bird from a cage. She kept him deep within her, in a secret place in her heart. She knew it was a place where no one would ever go again, and she knew they were right when people said she had to get over the tragedy, but she had no idea how. He was like a color she had become, a vision she had seen, a dream she had had, and there was no way to separate herself from him now.

Her parents urged her to go on a trip that summer, and after much arguing, Kate finally agreed to go. She went to visit her G.o.dmother in Chicago, and from there on to California to see a girl she knew who was going to Stanford. It was an interesting trip, and she had a good time, but she always felt now as though she were only making the motions, and not living her life anymore. It was a relief finally when she came home on the train. She had three days to herself to stare out the window and think about him, all that he had been, and hopefully still was. But even she was beginning to think now that he was no longer alive. By the time she returned to Boston at the end of August, he'd been gone for nine months. And no one had heard anything about him, or seen him in any of the prisoner of war camps. Both Washington and the RAF had finally agreed that he was dead.

Kate didn't go to Cape Cod that summer. It had too many memories for her, even though she had only seen him there twice. She came home from California just in time to start her senior year at Radcliffe. She was majoring in history and art, and had no idea what she was going to do with it. Teaching didn't appeal to her, and there was no other career path that held any particular lure for her, nor did anything else.

She saw Andy a few weeks after they got back, he was starting his third year of law school, and had almost no time to see her anymore. He loved it, and was working too hard. Several of her friends hadn't come back to school that fall, two of them had gotten married over the summer, and another girl had moved to the West Coast. Another had gone to work to support her mother, her father and both her brothers had been killed in the Pacific the previous year. It seemed to be a world supported and staffed by women, bus drivers, mailmen, all the jobs that had previously been done by men were being performed by women. Everyone had gotten used to it, and Kate teased her parents and told them she was going to be a bus driver when she grew up. Unfortunately, there was nothing else she wanted to do more.

She was twenty-one years old, and soon to become a graduate of Radcliffe. She was intelligent, beautiful, interesting, fun to be with, and well-informed. By all rights, her mother insisted, if there hadn't been a war on, she would have been married and had kids by then, if not with Joe, then with someone else. But she hadn't even been on a date since he died. Several of the boys from Harvard had asked her out, a couple of the excessively brainy ones from MIT, and even a nice boy from Boston College, but she turned all of them down. She had no interest in anyone, and she still expected to get a call from Washington, telling her that Joe was still alive, or even from the visiting room downstairs that there was someone waiting for her. She expected to see him as she got on buses, walked around corners and crossed streets. It was impossible to adjust to the idea that he had vanished into thin air, that he no longer existed anywhere on the planet, and no matter how much she loved him, would never come back to her. The whole concept of death was incomprehensible to her.

The holidays meant very little to her that year, although they were less painful than they had been the year before. She had calmed down a lot, and was warm and kind to her parents, but when her mother urged her to go out, Kate would either change the subject or leave the room. Her parents were beginning to give up hope, and her mother had confided to Kate's father that she was afraid Kate would be an old maid.

"I hardly think so," he laughed at Elizabeth. "She's twenty-one years old and there's a war on, for G.o.d's sake. Wait till the boys come home."

"And when will that be?" Elizabeth asked with a mournful look.

"Soon, I hope." But there was no sign of it yet.

Paris had been liberated finally in August. Russia had prevailed against the Germans, and Russian troops had moved into Poland. But the Germans had increased their bombing raids over England since September. And their offensive in the Ardennes Forest was going badly for the Allies. And the Battle of the Bulge over Christmas had cost a vast number of lives and disheartened everyone on the home front.

It was the last day of the Christmas vacation when Andy Scott dropped by the house with a group of friends, and convinced Kate to go skating with them. They were driving to a nearby lake, and her mother was relieved when she saw her leave with them. She was still hoping that Kate would pay more attention to Andy one day, but Kate always insisted that she had no romantic interest in him, he was just a friend. But they had gotten noticeably closer year by year, and Elizabeth hadn't entirely given up hope. She thought he would have been the perfect husband for Kate, and Kate's father didn't disagree, but he thought that was best left up to Kate.

They spent a wonderful afternoon skating on the lake, falling down, skating backward, pushing each other over. The boys organized a mock hockey game, and Kate skated in graceful circles in the middle of the lake. She had loved figure skating as a child, and was fairly good. And afterward, they all went out for hot toddies, and then went for a long walk in the crisp night air. Kate fell back from the group after a while, and Andy joined her. He was happy to see her looking better and finally having some fun. She said Christmas vacation had been okay, although she admitted that she hadn't done much, and he noticed that for once, she hadn't mentioned Joe. He hoped it was a turning point for her.

"What are you doing next summer?" he asked her calmly, as he tucked her mittened hand into the crook of his arm. He had shining dark hair, and deep brown eyes, and he was wearing earm.u.f.fs and a warm scarf from their outing to the lake.

"I don't know, I haven't thought about it," she said vaguely, as the vapor from their breath swirled ahead of them in the cold night air. "What about you?"

"I had kind of a fun idea," he said as they followed the others, "we're both going to graduate in June," she from Radcliffe and he from law school. "My father says I don't have to start work till September at the law firm. I was thinking it might be fun to go on a honeymoon." She was nodding as she listened, and then frowned as she looked at him.

"With who?" Her breath caught for a minute. There was a funny look in his eyes as they stopped walking, and he looked down at her.

"I was thinking maybe you," he said softly, as Kate let out a long sigh. She had thought they had put all that behind them. She had treated him like a brother for years. But Andy had always had a crush on her. And like her parents, and his own, he thought it would be a good match for both of them.

"Are you kidding?" she asked hopefully, but he shook his head, and she leaned her own against him.

"I can't do that, Andy, you know that. I love you like a brother." And then she smiled up at him sadly. "It would be incest to marry you."

"I know you've been in love with Joe," he said honestly, "but he's gone now. And I've always loved you. I think I could make you happy, Kate." But not the way Joe had. Joe had been pa.s.sion and excitement and danger. Andy was hot chocolate and ice skates. They were both important to her, but in different ways, and she felt certain that she would never feel for him what she had for Joe. They had stopped walking by then, and the others were far ahead, with no idea of what was happening behind them.

"I don't think it would be fair to you," she said honestly, snuggling close to him as they started to walk again. He had been wanting to ask her all day, and hadn't had the opportunity he wanted at the lake. He'd gotten too busy playing hockey with their friends. And she had gone off to skate by herself. She was very solitary these days. "I still can't believe that he's gone and never coming back," although she had begun to try the idea on for size recently, and it didn't feel good, and probably never would.

"You weren't even engaged to him, Kate. Lots of people have romances with other people before they get married. Some people even break engagements when they meet someone else," he grew more serious then, as he looked at her. "There are going to be a lot of women in your position after the war. There are widows even younger than you, and some of them have kids. They can't just lock themselves away for the rest of their lives. They're going to have to live again, and so are you. You can't hide forever, Kate."

"Yes, I can." She was beginning to think that what she'd had with Joe had been so unusual and so special that it would sustain her for the rest of her life, and there would be no one else.

"It's not good for you. You need a husband and kids and a good life, and someone who loves you to take care of you." What he was saying would have been music to her mother's ears, but not to Kate's. She wasn't ready to think about anyone else. She was still in love with Joe.

"You deserve better than someone who's in love with a ghost." It was the first time she had admitted to anyone that Joe might be dead, and Andy thought it was a first step.

"Maybe there's room in our life for a ghost." Andy felt certain that Kate would eventually let go of Joe one day.

"I don't know," she answered, sounding vague. But so far, she hadn't actually said no.

"We don't have to get married next summer, Kate. I just said that to see what you'd say. We can take as long as you want. Maybe we could just date for a while."

"Like real people?" she asked, as she looked at him, but she couldn't imagine being in love with him. To her, even at twenty-three, he still seemed like a kid. Joe was exactly ten years older than he. And they were very different men. Kate had been drawn to Joe from the moment she met him, he was like an explosion of light in her heart. Andy had always seemed like a cuddly person and a good friend. It was what her mother said husbands were supposed to be.

"So what do you think?" he asked hopefully, and she laughed. It was like having a boy ask you if you wanted to see his tree house, or go on a first date. She couldn't take him seriously.

"I think you're crazy to even want me," she said honestly.

"And?" he asked expectantly, "what about you?"

"I don't know. I can't imagine what it would be like going out with you. Let me think about it." She had been trying to fix him up with her housemates for the past three and a half years, but Andy had always been more interested in her. "It sounds like a crazy idea to me," she said most unromantically, but he wasn't discouraged. Things had gone better than he expected, and he looked pleased. He had been trying to get up the courage to ask her for months, but he'd been afraid it was too soon. But now it had been over a year since Joe had disappeared.

"Maybe not as crazy as you think," Andy said softly. "Why don't we just see how things go for the next few months?" he suggested, and she nodded. She had always liked him, and maybe her mother was right.

But that night, after he took her back to her parents' house, it depressed her thinking about it. Even letting Andy talk to her about it seemed like a betrayal of Joe, and thinking of Andy only made her miss Joe more. They were not only different, they existed in different worlds. Everything about Joe was exciting, fascinating, mesmerizing. She had always been enthralled by his flying tales, and flying with Joe had been one of the high points of her life. But beyond what Joe said to her, and what they did together, there had always been a powerful, almost irresistible unspoken attraction between them. It was a kind of chemistry that neither of them could have explained. And she had none of that with Andy Scott. Instead of a bright light burning somewhere deep within her, all Andy represented in her mind was a comfortable warm place. It would have been a huge adjustment to make. And when she saw him at school again a few days later, she started to say as much to him.

"Sshhhh!" he said firmly, putting a finger to her lips. "I know what you're going to say. Forget it. I don't want to hear it. You're just scared." But the trouble was she wasn't in love with him. She had said nothing to her parents about what Andy had said to her. She didn't want to raise her mother's hopes, or have her go crazy about it. Kate wasn't sold on the idea yet herself. Far from it, she was having cold feet about even dating him. She felt silly going out with him. "Just give it a chance," he continued. "How about dinner on Friday night? And we could go to a movie on Sat.u.r.day." Suddenly, she felt as though she were being asked to go steady by a high school kid. He was bright and kind, and friendly and solid, but having stayed home while everyone else went to war, he also seemed less mature in Kate's opinion, certainly than Joe.

In spite of herself, she got dressed for dinner on Friday evening. She wore a black dress her mother had given her for Christmas, high heels, a little fur jacket, and a string of pearls. And she looked very pretty with her shining auburn hair when he came to pick her up, wearing a dark suit. He looked like every senior's dream. But not Kate's.

They had a lovely time at an Italian restaurant in the North End, and he took her dancing afterward, but somehow, no matter how hard she tried, she just felt like it was a joke. She would much rather have been eating at the cafeteria with him, as they always did. But she didn't say it to him.

Andy was very circ.u.mspect when he took her home at the end of the evening, and he didn't kiss her. He didn't want to scare her off, and he was very sensible about the fact that it was too soon. And the following night, he took her to see Casablanca Casablanca again, which was more relaxed, and they went out for hamburgers afterward. Kate was surprised at how much fun she had. It was actually enjoyable going out on a date, and it was easy being with him. But for her at least, it wasn't exciting or romantic being with him. He was just a friend, and she couldn't imagine, or not yet at least, feeling more than that for him. But at least she was making the effort to give it a chance. again, which was more relaxed, and they went out for hamburgers afterward. Kate was surprised at how much fun she had. It was actually enjoyable going out on a date, and it was easy being with him. But for her at least, it wasn't exciting or romantic being with him. He was just a friend, and she couldn't imagine, or not yet at least, feeling more than that for him. But at least she was making the effort to give it a chance.

It was Valentine's Day before he finally tried to kiss her. Joe had been gone for fifteen months, but Joe was all she could think of when she felt Andy's lips on hers. He was handsome and s.e.xy and young, and he was an attractive young man in many ways. But she felt as though there were something terribly wrong with her. It was as if everything inside her, in her heart, in her head, in her soul, were numb. When Joe's light went out in her, everything in her had gone dark. Her heart had left with him.

Andy appeared not to notice, and for the next few months, they went on a date once a week, and he kissed her when he brought her home. He never tried to go further than that, which was a relief to her. She knew that Andy would never expect her to risk her reputation, and she suspected that he had no idea that she had ever made love to Joe. He told her he loved her constantly, and she loved him too, in her own way. Her parents were ecstatic that she was going out with him, but she kept insisting that it wasn't serious yet. And when her father looked into her eyes, it almost broke his heart. He could read all too easily what was and wasn't there. All he saw was immeasurable pain. It was like looking into a bottomless pool of grief. The fact that she chatted and smiled and had begun to laugh again didn't fool him.

And when her mother was rhapsodizing about Andy one day, when she and Clarke were alone having dinner at the house, he tried to discourage her. He thought that what she was doing was dangerous for Kate.

"Don't push them, Liz. Let them find their own way."

"They seem to be doing fine. I'm sure they're going to get engaged." But what did that mean? he wondered to himself. That she had been profoundly in love with one man, and had to be married to someone, anyone, to replace him, whether she loved him or not? To him, it seemed an abysmal fate. He and Liz had been married for thirteen years, and he was still in love with her every day. He didn't want anything less for Kate.

"I don't think she should marry him," Clarke said sensibly.

"Why not?" Elizabeth looked incensed. She didn't want him to spoil anything.

"She's not in love with him, Liz," he said quietly. "Look at her. She's still in love with Joe."

"He was never right for her, and he's gone, for Heaven's sake."

"That doesn't change how she felt about him. She may not get over it for years." What he was beginning to fear most was that she never would. And marrying Andy might only make things worse, particularly if she did it to please them. It might break her spirit entirely, or fill her with despair. In that case, she was better off alone, no matter how nice a boy Andy was. "Just leave them alone, and let them figure it out," he urged, and Liz shook her head as she looked at him.

"She needs to get married and have kids, Clarke. What do you expect her to do when she graduates in June?" She made marriage and children sound like occupational therapy, which was upsetting to him.

"I'd rather she get a job than marry the wrong man." He was very firm.

"There is nothing 'wrong' with Andy Scott." She was beginning to wonder where her husband got his crazy ideas. Maybe he had been a little dazzled by Joe Allbright too. But however dazzling he had been, Joe Allbright was gone. And Kate had to go on with her life.

In spite of her parents' arguments and concern over her, Kate continued to go out with Andy every weekend, and do her best to feel more than just friendship for him, but it was an uphill fight. And by spring, everyone's attention was riveted on England and France and Germany. The tides were beginning to turn.

U.S. troops were winning the Battle of the Ruhr in March, and had taken Iwo Jima in the Pacific. Nuremberg had fallen to the Allies in April, just as the Russians reached the suburbs of Berlin. Mussolini and his cabinet members were executed at the end of April, and the German armies in Italy surrendered the following day, just two weeks after President Roosevelt's death. Harry Truman had been made President by then. Germany surrendered on May 7, and President Truman declared May 8 V-E Day.

Kate and Andy followed the news avidly, and argued about what they read. The war meant more to her than it did to a lot of girls her age, because it had cost her so much. And others were constantly holding their breath, praying that their men would come home. By then, nearly two years after he'd been shot down, even Kate had lost hope that Joe would turn up at the end of the war. He had been gone for seventeen months, and everyone had come to a.s.sume he was dead, even Kate. His files were closed, although his flying records still stood, and would for a long time.

Kate was in cla.s.s on V-E Day when she heard the news. The door was open, and a teacher came in with tears streaming down her face. She had lost her husband in France three years before. All the girls stood up and cheered and embraced each other. It was over... finished ... done... the boys could come home at last. All they needed now was victory in j.a.pan, but everyone was sure it would come soon.

Kate went to see her parents that afternoon, and her father was jubilant. She and her father talked about it for a while, and then he noticed the profoundly sad look in her eyes. It was easy to see what had crossed her mind, and there were tears in her eyes when she looked up at him. He instantly understood, and touched her hand.

"I'm sorry he didn't make it, Kate."

She nodded at him. "So am I," she said, with tears rolling down her cheeks as she wiped them away. She went back to the house where she lived a little while after that, and lay on her bed, thinking about Joe again. He was always there, somewhere, close to her. He was never far. And when one of the girls came to tell her Andy was on the phone, she told her to tell him she was out. She just couldn't talk to him. Her mind and heart were too full of Joe.

9.

GRADUATION WAS ANTICLIMACTIC after the victory in Europe, and Kate looked wonderful in her cap and gown. Her parents were proud of her, and Andy was there. He had talked to her about getting engaged that week, and she had asked him to wait awhile. He was going to travel around the Northwest that summer, and go to work for his father in New York in the fall. after the victory in Europe, and Kate looked wonderful in her cap and gown. Her parents were proud of her, and Andy was there. He had talked to her about getting engaged that week, and she had asked him to wait awhile. He was going to travel around the Northwest that summer, and go to work for his father in New York in the fall.