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“They’re asking for a three-month commitment. That’s all.”
That’s all? How could he say that? Boston was only a halfday’s drive, but with gas rations and her work at the library, it might as well be over in Bataan or Burma for all she’d see him.
She kept her mouth in a tight line, and Russell reached for her face in the near darkness, pulling her close.
Oh no, he wasn’t going to kiss away her answer. She pushed against his neatly ironed dress shirt. “Well, now I know why you were so eager to bring me here tonight and got all kitted out without complaining. You don’t even like dancing.”
“Avis, don’t be that way. I only wanted to break it to you gently.” It was hard not to believe him, the way he stroked her arm soothingly. “And you’ve been so busy at the library and then with chores in the evenings, I feel like we haven’t seen each other.”
So that was it. Hadn’t she told Anthony any reasonable man would resent his wife working? Maybe Russell’s desire for adventure and escape was really her fault.
“Will we see each other more if you disappear for three months?” she asked pointedly.
“No,” he admitted after a pause. “But the world is at war, Avis. We all have to sacrifice something. This could be my chance....”
“There it is again.” She bit off the words crisply, crossing her arms so he’d know she wouldn’t be cowed. “Your chance. For what? You want excitement and glory anddistance, far away from me, just like my father did in the last war? And who knows what kind of women you’d find in Boston to take my place.”
She froze. Had she really said that? Out loud?
From the hurt and anger on Russell’s face, she had. “Now, that’s just—”
She wasn’t going to listen to excuses. Not anymore. The words, now started, came out quickly, past the lump in her throat that threatened tears. “Don’t try to tell me it doesn’t happen, Russell, because it does. To soldiers and sailors andbachelors off for some coastal patrol lark. Even to good men like you, like my father, and their women stand by and pretend they don’t know. Well, I can’t bear that.”
For a moment, no one spoke, the grassy knoll quiet as a funeral parlor.
“It’s not going to be that way.” Russell’s voice had softened, begging her to believe him.
But she remembered, with perfect clarity, the day shortly after her engagement when her mother had taken her to a restaurant for tea. She’d perched on the plush chair, still unused to the feeling of a ring on her finger, and listened as Mother warned her to expect wandering eyes and even unfaithfulness in her husband. “It’s just how men are,” she’d said, stirring cream into her cup, lipstick pressed together in a hard line.
So Avis had bought books, subscribed to magazines, memorized instructions. She’d tailored her clothes to the latest fashion and determined not to hire anyone to clean or cook. She hadn’t pushed Russell when he said he wasn’t ready for children, even though she ached to cradle a baby in her arms.
And still, after all that, here they were, snapping at each other just like Avis’s parents.
“I’m sorry,” Avis said, hating the betrayed look Russell was giving her, hating that she couldn’t take her words back and mean it. “It’s just ... I don’t like being alone.” The words sounded so small and frail, and this time, she didn’t pull away when Russell wrapped his arms around her.
“I know. But you’ve got your parents not far away, and the church, and the book club. And it’s only for three months. I promise.”
Three months. That was something. Concrete. Measurable.
What if this is the only thing that will fix him?Nothing she’d tried so far had been able to get that old sparkle back in his eyes, the one she was seeing now while he talked about this yachting patrol.
Taking in a shuddering breath, Avis forced herself to ask, “When do you need to decide?”
“Training starts in one week.”
So soon.
“I can’t just—” She drew in the night air, trying and failing to find the right words. “I need time to think.”
He pressed a kiss to the top of her carefully brushed out pin curls. “Of course. Of course, sweetheart. I know it’s a long time to say good-bye.”
And what if you don’t come back?
But it was safer than the military, she reasoned when he led her back inside and held her for a slow dance. More than likely, it was the government’s way to keep some wealthy idlers pacified, thinking they were contributing in some way.
As the strains of a ballad drew them closer to midnight, Avis breathed in her husband’s scent, clung to his arm, fixed this moment in her memory.
She would think about the picket patrol, eventually. But not tonight. Tonight, she would pretend Russell had simply brought her here because he liked the feeling of holding her in his arms, even if the lie only lasted for a few more dances.
