With Every Letter (38 page)

“He said that, did he?”

“Sure did.” She gave a serious nod. “I’m multilingual.”

Tom laughed. “Well, tell him bark, bark, woof.”

“I don’t speak that dialect.”

“Nothing to it. It’s all in the
r
’s. You’ve got to roll them around in your throat like you’re gargling.” He demonstrated.

Mellie laughed, a lilting soprano that made him want to pull her close and kiss that fascinating mouth. “I think you need medication for that throat condition,” she said.

Tom sat back. No, what he needed was restraint.

She looked around, a few chuckles still escaping. “How do they treat you here?”

“They treat me well.”

“I’m glad,” she said.

“How are things in your squadron?”

The playfulness drained from her face. She pulled her clasped hands closer to her stomach. “Overall, they’re going well. We’ve had lots of flights. The commanders have finally seen the value of air evacuation.”

“But . . .”

She sighed and looked up to the canvas ceiling. “But it looks like I’m going home.”

“Home? Why?”

Mellie shook her head. “To explain would require revealing secrets, and I refuse to do that.”

Tom leaned forward on his knees. “You don’t want to go.”

“No.” She blinked several times. “It’s not my choice. But I think it’s for the best.”

Tom’s breath grew choppy. How could it be for the best? Mellie was an outstanding nurse, and she always managed to be there when he needed her. And if she left . . .

If she left, he’d lose any chance he had with her. The thought made him squeamish, but he couldn’t deny the hope that if things didn’t work out with Annie, he could pursue Mellie. Annie resisted him. What if he was wasting time in his imagination when he could hold reality? A spark of anger parched his lips.

He swabbed his mouth with his tongue. “What do you mean ‘best’?”

Her liquid gaze melted into his. “It just is.”

“That doesn’t—”

“That reminds me. I have letters for you. Kay asked if I could deliver them.” She opened her purse and pulled out four envelopes. “You’re quite the letter writer, aren’t you?”

Mellie’s hands—hands he’d held, hands that had touched him—wrapped around Annie’s letters. Guilt contorted his insides.

“Thanks.” He took the letters. “Sorry to inconvenience you.”

“It’s no inconvenience.” Mellie glanced toward the tent opening. “I should go.”

Tom shuffled in his stationery box and pulled out three envelopes. “If it isn’t an inconvenience, I have a few letters myself. Would you mind giving them to Kay?”

“Not at all.” Her eyelashes fluttered on her cheeks.

“Thanks. I appreciate it.”

“Bye, now.” Mellie got up and headed to the tent entrance.

What if she left the theater? What if he never saw her again? He didn’t even have her address, her hometown. “Mellie!”

“Yes?” She turned, one hand holding back the tent flap, the other grasping his letters for Annie.

His heart went down, but his smile went up. “Thanks again. Bye.”

She smiled, waved, and left.

He groaned and leaned back. The metal head rail jabbed his spine. All these years he’d mentally beaten up his father for his failings, when Tom had plenty of failings of his own.

Annie. Annie. He loved Annie.

To remind himself, he spread her new letters before him. One a day. In her concern and her love, she took time from her busy life to write him every day. Beautiful letters that built him up as much as she claimed he’d built her up.

Had he really loved her before he was injured? He thought he had, but new passion pulsed in his heart. She knew him and loved him and encouraged him. If anything, she was far more real than Mellie, whom he knew only superficially.

He wanted Annie in his life always. To have and to hold. No matter what she looked like.

It was time to act, to force things to a head.

He closed his eyes, shutting out the crowded, noisy, muggy hospital tent.
Lord, let her see how much I love her. Convince her to trust me
.

40

Agrigento Airfield
Sicily
July 30, 1943

Mellie paused outside the tent that served as squadron headquarters, drew a shaky breath, and gazed up to the brilliant morning sky. Lambert had summoned her.

She didn’t want to leave. Sicily enchanted her with sparkling beaches, olive groves, winding roads lined with stone walls, and homes with trays of tomato paste drying on the roofs. A few days before, she and Georgie and Rose had visited the Valle dei Templi south of Agrigento and its ruins of seven Greek temples. She wanted to see more and to build these sweet friendships into something deep and lasting.

Three nurses from another flight passed and shot Mellie a dirty look. Since Mellie couldn’t defend herself without exposing herself to charges of slander, Vera and Alice’s story held.

She sighed, opened her purse, and pulled out Tom’s most recent letter, written after her visit to the hospital.

She skipped to the last page.

When we started this correspondence, you and I stood at opposite ends of a bridge. I was everyone’s friend. You kept to yourself. Over the past nine months, we’ve both found balance in the center.

I’ve learned the only person I need to please is the Lord. I’m determined to be genuine and strong and stand up for what’s right, and I’ll smile only when I feel like it. In the process, I will not please everyone. That is as it should be.

You’ve learned you can only please the Lord when you step out of yourself and offer friendship to others. You’ve had to learn to please people. But some people can’t be pleased, nor should they be.

My love, be friendly and open, but stay true to how God made you. He created us all unique. Delight in your differences while reaching out to others.

We both stand in the middle of the bridge, where we must meet. I hold my hand out to you and long to draw you close. It’s time, darling.

Mellie slammed her mind shut against the final, inviting, heart-melting paragraph, and focused on the fortifying words before it.

“Good. We get to watch her comeuppance.” Vera brushed past Mellie into the tent. Alice bumped Mellie’s shoulder as she passed.

Mellie lifted her head.
Lord, help me be merciful and kind, truthful and strong.

Inside the tent, Lieutenant Lambert sat at a folding desk and motioned to three camp stools. “Have a seat, ladies.”

Mellie saluted then sat, glad her hammering heart couldn’t be seen. Why wasn’t Captain Maxwell present? He’d enjoy this too.

The chief nurse’s gaze settled on Vera, then Alice, then Mellie. A dark and inscrutable gaze. “You know why you’re here. Or you think you do. Mellie, you’ve been strangely quiet about this incident. Do you have anything to say?”

Mellie wrapped her hands around the black shoulder bag containing Tom’s words of encouragement. “No, ma’am. I told the truth. I didn’t do it. What else is there to say?”

“For heaven’s sake.” Alice’s chest heaved. “Everyone knows you did it.”

“Popular opinion.” Lambert’s mouth disappeared into a thin line. “Popular opinion is only proof of gossip’s power.”

Mellie blinked to clear her vision. Had Lambert taken her side?

Vera brushed her hair off her shoulder. “Maybe, but popular opinion usually reflects the truth. And the truth is, Mellie pulled a childish trick on us. She doesn’t belong here.”

Lieutenant Lambert smoothed out papers on her desk. “Immediately after the incident, I sent for her replacement, as well as one for Sylvia, since she still suffers from malaria.”

The confirmation should have sent Mellie reeling, but somehow it straightened her spine. “I think that’s best, ma’am.”

The chief’s head jerked up. “Pardon?”

“Vera’s right. I don’t belong. I’ve tried to fit in. I cut my hair and made friends and I’m overcoming my shyness. But I’ll never be able to change enough to please these two. I was raised primarily in the jungle among men and didn’t have
friends until I joined this squadron. I can’t cover differences like that with lipstick.”

“I’ll say,” Vera mumbled.

Lieutenant Lambert stared at the desktop, and her mouth shifted from side to side. “From the start, I placed the responsibility for the squadron’s harmony on Mellie, but I should have looked to others as well.” Her gaze locked on Vera and Alice.

A quick thrill of vindication rushed through Mellie’s lungs, but confusion shoved it aside.

Alice sat back. “Excuse me?”

The chief picked up a piece of paper. “Does the name Private Judson mean anything to you, Alice?”

“I should say not. We aren’t allowed to fraternize with enlisted men.”

“I had an interesting conversation with him yesterday.” The paper crinkled in Lambert’s hands. “He asked if the nurses had more odd jobs for him. ‘More?’ I asked, and he said you paid him five dollars to collect bugs. You wanted them in a little box with holes so they’d stay alive.”

Mellie’s lips parted. That’s how they did it. She couldn’t imagine either of them touching insects.

“Nonsense,” Alice said. “Mellie must have put him up—”

Lambert raised one hand to silence her. “Everyone saw Mellie at breakfast that morning, but not you two. Kay said you skipped breakfast.”

“We weren’t hungry,” Alice cried. “Mellie had plenty of time. She was alone in the tent when we came back for our gear.”

“Stop it.” Lambert’s face reddened. “I ran into Georgie and Rose not ten yards from your tent. She wasn’t alone long.”

“She could have—”

Vera huffed. “It’s over, Alice. Stop it.”

Alice glared at her. “Don’t you dare pin this on me. This was your idea.”

Mellie’s thoughts tumbled into dizziness. Although she couldn’t speak the truth, the Lord brought it into the light. She might—she might be able to stay.

Vera raised a slight shrug and smile. “We didn’t mean anything. It was just a little prank.”

“A little prank?” Lieutenant Lambert thumped her hand on the desk and made it rattle. “You connived, you framed her, you lied, you gossiped, and you almost got her sent home. That is not a little prank.”

Mellie’s breath came faster, in joyful little hops. She could remain a flight nurse and travel and support herself no matter what the future held. She could nurture friendships with Georgie and Rose and Kay. And she might occasionally savor Tom’s company.

Alice pressed her fist over her mouth and whimpered. Vera stared at the ground in front of her, eyes round and eyebrows drawn together. They would be reprimanded. They would be replaced.

A wave of compassion swelled in Mellie’s heart, but she wouldn’t let the wave break. Didn’t Micah 6:8 say, “What doth the Lord require of thee, but to do justly, and to love mercy, and to walk humbly with thy God”? They had failed in all three.

But Mellie’s mind snagged on the word
mercy
.

Lieutenant Lambert stood, crossed her arms, and turned to the back of the tent. “I can’t begin to tell you how angry and disappointed I am. And humiliated. You used me like a pawn on your little chessboard, and I don’t appreciate it.”

Tears flowed down Alice’s blotchy, twitching cheeks.

“I had high hopes for the two of you.” Lambert tilted up her head and sighed. “Your experience and poise made you
naturals. But you treated your fellow nurse worse than you’d treat the enemy.”

Vera leaned over her knees, her back rising and falling quickly. Her black hair hung like curtains beside her head and swung in rhythm with her hyperventilation.

Another wave of compassion threatened Mellie, and she shifted her gaze to the chief nurse.

Lieutenant Lambert’s eyes glistened. “I’ve discussed the situation with Major Guilford. Sylvia should improve soon. I’ll keep her here and Mellie too. Vera and Alice will return stateside.”

Vera expelled a long, soft moan. “My dad. My dad will kill me.”

Something twisted inside Mellie. She knew nothing about them beyond the superficialities. Had she ever reached out to them? Deep inside, they had dreams and fears.

“For if ye love them which love you, what reward have ye? do not even the publicans the same?”
She hugged her pocketbook to her stomach. Mercy meant more than compassion for the sick or forgiving friends who hurt you. Mercy meant loving your enemies.

A strange stirring wound through Mellie’s soul. Mercy meant sacrificing your dreams for the sake of others. For the sake of flight nursing. For the sake of Georgie and Rose and Kay.

For the sake of Vera and Alice.

“Lord, help me,” she whispered. The stirring worked through her legs and propelled her to her feet. “Ma’am, please give them a second chance. Let them stay. Send me home instead.”

“Excuse me?” the chief said.

Alice gaped at her. Vera raised her head and peered around the wall of dark hair.

Mellie’s eyes moistened, but she held her chin high. “Give them a second chance, ma’am. You’ve given me second, third, fourth chances. They deserve the same. They’re excellent flight nurses, competent and caring and professional.”

Lambert cocked her head to the side, and furrows raced up her forehead. “That doesn’t change the fact—”

“The fact? The fact is, I don’t belong in this squadron. You gave me so many chances, but I still don’t belong. Vera and Alice get along with everyone but me. If I leave this squadron, your problems will be solved. No more squabbling and gossip and nastiness.”

“It’s not that simple. I can’t trust them.”

Mellie gazed down at the two stunned nurses through watery vision. “You won’t have problems with them anymore. They’re smart enough to learn their lessons. Give them another chance.”

Vera shoved back her hair. “Why . . . why would you . . . ?”

“Because I’m odd.” Mellie raised one eyebrow, but that loosened a teardrop to slither down her cheek.

“This isn’t your decision to make.” Lambert sat at her desk.