Page 64 of The Rules of Magic

“I filed his records from personnel. Trust me, there’s no wife.”

Franny called from a pay phone. He was not in, the housekeeper said, but she could take a message.

“Tell him it’s urgent,” Franny pleaded, leaving her phone number and address. “I have to see him. Do you understand what urgent means?”

“I do,” the housekeeper responded. “It means you want what you want.”

Which was true, but for good reason. Franny went home and waited by the phone. When Jet came in with tea, Franny said simply, “We won’t let him go.”

“Of course not,” Jet said.

At dusk there was a knock at the door. The sisters exchanged a look. They knew who it was.

“He’ll help you,” Jet said. “All you have to do is let him.”

An icy drizzle was falling, but Haylin stood there without a hat or an umbrella. Franny threw open the door so swiftly she startled him, even though he was the one who had come to call. Harry had trotted after her and he now guarded the threshold protectively.

“May I come in?”

Hay was formal and he did not move to embrace her. It had been a long time, after all, and their last parting had been awful. When Franny nodded, he entered the vestibule and stomped the rain from his shoes, then took off his wet rain gear. Under his coat he was wearing a navy uniform. Stunned, Franny took a step backward. She knew he had joined up, yet the sheer reality that he was in the armed services threw her. The Hay she’d known would have fled to Canada, chained himself outside the Pentagon, perhaps even gone to jail. But this was a grown man before her, a doctor, and one she barely knew.

“Don’t say how could you,” he said when he saw her expression. “It’s the better option. Better than being drafted at any rate. I go as a doctor, and maybe I get to do some good.”

They went into the kitchen and Franny made her own recipe for Courage Tea, which they both needed.

“You didn’t marry her,” Franny said in as offhand a manner as she could manage. Color was rising in her face, but she forced herself to sound calm. “That Emily.”

Hay shrugged it off. “That Emily didn’t deserve marrying someone who didn’t love her.”

“Oh.”

“Don’t worry about her. She married someone else. Someone better.”

“I doubt that.”

“Do you want to discuss love and marriage? Is that why you phoned after all this time? Your message said it was urgent.”

“I don’t mind if I have to beg for your help if that’s the way things are between us,” she said. Then she added, “Do you want a slice of chocolate cake?” She had made it that very morning and the scent was intoxicating. They both felt mildly drunk just from the smell.

Hay laughed. “So it’s the kind of help that needs a bribe. Just tell me, Franny.”

“It’s Vincent. He was the first number in the lottery.”

“Shit.”

“Of course he can’t go.”

“Thousands of men are doing exactly that, Franny.”

“Not Vincent. It would break him.”

“Is he so different from everyone else?”

“Yes,” Franny said. She thought of the day the nurse had tried to kidnap him. How quiet he had been when he’d been found, how wide his eyes were. That was the first night she sat by his bedside, keeping watch.

“Because he’s a homosexual? Plenty of homosexuals serve this country, they’re braver than most.”

Franny was taken aback.