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“No need. I did an inspectional reading of the whole thing,” she felt the need to inform him, proud of her use of the book’s own term for plain old skimming. “Nice of Mortimer to put that little loophole in. Probably the most useful part of the book.”
Freddy held up his copy, a few torn bits of paper poking out to mark pages. “What’d you think of this one?”
She imitated the woman on the foundry’s “Silence Means Security” poster with a finger over her lips. “You won’t get a thing out of me until the meeting starts. Can’t risk you stealing my brilliant thoughts.”
“I suppose that’s fair.” But instead his eyes wandered over her shoulder to her car, parked just past them.
Ginny found heat creeping up her neck like an itch as she noticed the chipped paint and rust spots of the old beater she’d haggled for to get her to Derby. And what if he noticed the mile-wide dent she’d discovered this morning from a flying rock during her sudden turns?
But he wasn’t looking at the damage from last night’s chase, just at her headlights. “You’re out driving after dark, right?”
“Sure. Swing shift lets out at midnight.”
“You really ought to put on some of those dimming blinders. Blackout regulations and all that.”
He didn’t say it like a member of one of the badge-wearing civilian meddlers writing her a citation, but Ginny couldn’t keep from rolling her eyes. “Freddy, if there are any Nazis bobbing around out there, they’ll see a fisherman chomping a cigar before my two tiny specks of light a mile inland. Blackout regulations are for the department stores and movie palaces near Portland and Boston.”
“Everyone thinks the rules apply to someone else. But you’re not the one who’s had to go out in a plane to guard ships crossingthe ocean from U-boats.” He said it kindly but without a trace of his usual joking manner. “The more we help, the safer they’ll be.”
What could she say to that? “Gosh, I didn’t think ... can you really see so much?”
He nodded. “Two weeks after Pearl Harbor, I flew from Virginia to New York. It was lit up like a Christmas tree. Boats in the harbor silhouetted clear as if we’d lit a signal flare to tell the Nazis ‘Aim here.’”
“Well, you’ve got me there.” Made a girl feel like she was signing some GI’s death warrant just by motoring around. “I’ll stop by the hardware store and try to talk like I know what I’m about.”
“Want me to tag along? I put the dimmers on Miss Cavendish’s roadster just yesterday.” He smiled ruefully. “Not that I’m allowed to drive it. Funny, when you think about it. I have nearly a decade’s worth of experience flying planes, and now the fastest I can go by myself is on foot.”
Ginny had never been much for math, but even she could figure something was wrong. “Say, that can’t be right. That would make you nearly thirty.” Not that that was ancient or anything, but still, with that fresh face of his, she’d placed Freddy at least five or six years younger.
But Freddy shook his head. “Guilty as charged, I’m afraid.”
She feigned shock. “All right, mister, I’m going to need to see some ID.” She held out a flat palm, her other hand on her hip.
He shook his head, taking a step back. “Sorry. Don’t carry my driver’s license around anymore. You’ll just have to take my word for it.”
That made sense. Still ... did Freddy’s expression tighten as his hand went to the wallet in his pocket? Just like he’d quickly tucked his dog tags away when she’d mentioned them.
You’re imagining things, Ginny.
He shifted, nodding back at her Ford. “Anyway, about that hardware store...”
“Sure, I could use the help.” Ginny had learned to bring Lew or another brother along for trips like this. Some fellows, if they got a sense a woman didn’t know much, tried to take advantage.
“Excellent.” The smile was back as they took the steps up to the library, and he held the door open for her. “Maybe we could stop by the lunch counter for a milkshake afterward?”
She stopped on the threshold. There it was. A line in the sand that Ginny was sure, even with her limited know-how about the finer points of real-life romance, she couldn’t cross. Too much like a date. Though she and Freddy had joked around after the last book club, she just hadn’t found a way to work Mack into the conversation before this.
“I’d like to, Freddy, but I’ve got a...” How to put it? “Well, there’s a fellow sweet on me over in the Pacific who might not think much of that.”
“Ah. Say no more,” he said, waving her awkward explanation away with a smile. “I completely understand. We’ll stick to the neutral territory of the hardware store. How could your soldier object?”
She allowed that he couldn’t, and they entered the library together.
Freddy was a good sport about it, anyway. Almost too good.
Well, what had she been expecting? That he’d start acting jealous, or at least look disappointed, like he was in one of those novels Avis hid in the storage room? Silly, especially when she had Mack writing “Thinking of you makes the long days better” and “Yours with affection” and all that.
Still, she couldn’t help thinking, watching Freddy stand next to Louise and chat as easily with the stuck-up heiress as he had with Ginny outside, a fellow like that, especially with most young men off to war, was going to make some girl pretty happy.
