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From Anthony to Avis
August 9, 1942
Dear Sis,
I just got your letter from a few weeks ago today—guess we shouldn’t expect a country that took two full years to join the war to prioritize speed. I wish you’d have told me earlier, sis, about the library closing down. That’s a hard thing.
Listen, it might seem bad, but don’t give up. I know you—you’re that beautiful mix of practical, clever, hard-working, and stubborn, to boot. That’s what caught ol’ Russ’s eye, all those years ago. I’ve never told you this, but as all big brothers should, I had a good talking with him after he took you to the movies for the first time. He said the usual sappy things about your pretty eyes and the way you smile, then, “I’ve never known another girl like her.” It’s the only reason I didn’t grumble during the “speak now or forever hold your peace” bit of your wedding.
All I’m saying is the two of us know a quality woman with a good head on her shoulders. What you need is a little more grit. So that’s what I’m here for, to remind you not to let something you love slip away without a fight.
But if you try your best, and it all falls apart anyway, it’s okay. Really. People will find the stories they need right when they need them. They always do—you included.
The point is, I’m proud of you, sis. And I always will be.
Cheering you on from this side of the Atlantic,
Anthony
Notice on the door of the Cavendish Association
Library, September 1, 1942
The library is closed until further notice, due to a family emergency. We apologize for the inconvenience.
thirty-two
AVIS
SEPTEMBER 1
Avis was only halfway done with her frantic vacuuming of the hallway when she heard the front door slam shut.
Russell was home.
She caught her breath and rubbed the Old Orchard Beach lapel pin at her shoulder. “Hello, darling,” she called, setting down the vacuum. “Be there in a moment.” She threw on her floral-print housecoat, belting it at the waist, before hurrying out to the sitting room.
There he was, his skin several shades darker than she remembered, wearing a brown mackinaw coat dirty around the cuffs, a small suitcase at his feet. Worn down by a long trip and time at sea, but just as handsome as ever.
She smiled tentatively. “Well, you certainly didn’t pack much.”
“After two months away, I’m used to traveling light.”
A beat of awkwardness followed, and Avis blushed as Russell seemed to study her, glad she’d thought to put on lipstick before vacuuming. “How was the train?”
“Crowded with troops, as usual.” This time, though, there wasn’t the slightest hint of bitterness in his voice when he mentioned his drafted brethren. “I hoped you might be there to pick me up, though.”
“I haven’t driven the car in months, dear. Saving gas rations and all.” Besides, there was dinner to fix, the house to clean, and on such short notice, she hadn’t finished half of her to-do list....
But despite the undusted surfaces and the streaks on the windows she hadn’t had time to wipe with a rag, Russell was looking around appreciatively. “Good to be back here again. The quarters they have us staying in when we’re on land are a bachelor’s slum.”
They stood there for a moment, staring at each other, and Avis thought she knew what Russell must be thinking. So much they hadn’t said. So many hard questions they would have to face now. No running this time.
“Welcome home, dear,” she said, stepping into his arms for a brief embrace. “It’s so good to see you . . . even if it’s not for long.”
That made him shift uncomfortably, rocking back on his heels. “You got my letter, then? About the extension.”
“I did.”
