With Every Letter (42 page)

Termini Airfield

Inside the pyramidal tent he shared with three other officers, Tom stuffed his belongings into his barracks bag. Sesame sat at his feet and whimpered.

He rubbed the top of the little guy’s head. “Get to go home now. No more rats and air raids for you, boy.” He shoved aside the concern that dogs would be banned from the troop transport. Somehow Tom would sneak him on board.

Sesame cocked his head and whimpered again. He could always see behind the smile.

Tom huffed, tired of faking it, even for a dog. “All right. It stinks. It all stinks. No matter what I do, I can’t succeed. I can’t be a normal leader, Annie probably won’t write back, and I don’t know what I’ll do for a job when this war’s over.”

Sesame wagged his tail on the dirt floor as if pleased with Tom’s honesty.

He stared at the stump. When Mellie amputated his tail, Tom had worried about Sesame’s identity, but Mellie had reassured him.
“He’s loved. He has a purpose. He’ll be fine.”
And he was.

Tom was loved too—by the Lord, by his mother, and by Sesame. He had a purpose—to build, whether as an engineer or in construction. And he would be fine.

“I will,” he mumbled. “I’ll be fine.”

He laid the stationery box with Annie’s letters on top of his belongings. He wouldn’t get to meet her. Kay had his APO number so she could mail Annie’s reply if it ever came. If Annie did reveal her identity, their relationship would be limited to letters for the duration of the war.

But her silence screamed.

“I’ll be fine.” He yanked the drawstring shut.

The tent flap opened, and Captain Newman stepped inside. “Gill, I gave you an order.”

Tom’s shoulders sagged, and he folded his bedroll. “Quincy said everything he needed to say. I said everything I needed to say. Why stick around?”

“So you could hear what I had to say.”

Tom shook his head and rolled the bedding. “I’m going home. I know that.”

Newman fiddled with something in his hand. Silent.

Out of the corner of his eye, Tom sneaked a look.

Newman had a carbine slung over his shoulder and he inspected a pistol in his hands. Tom’s pistol. “How often have you fired this?”

“Five times, sir.”

“No more than that?”

“No, sir. I was afraid of what I’d become. Completely unnecessary. I was also afraid of how people would react. That was well grounded.”

The CO polished the barrel of the gun with his thumb. “You’re a good shot.”

“Excellent, sir.”

“Good.” He held out the gun to Tom. “I need fine marksmen with personal control.”

Tom’s mouth drifted open. He closed it. It opened again. “But, sir, I thought—”

“You asked for your platoon back. I’m giving it to you.”

“But, sir—”

“Arguing with me?” One side of his mouth twitched up.

Tom blinked, but the sight remained—his commander returning his pistol, his platoon, and his future. “No, sir. But what about the men?”

“It’ll blow over. The reporters will find new prey. Do your job, make the men work, and they’ll forget all about it. Even if they don’t, they’ll obey.”

Tom nodded, but his mind swarmed with questions. “Why are you doing this?”

“Because of what you said. I waited all year for that. I deliberately remained quiet to see what you’d do. And you did it. You stood up for yourself. You stood up to Quincy. You got angry with him when he deserved it, and no one died.”

A smile tugged at Tom’s lips. “Not even Quincy.”

“I’ve wanted to strangle that man a dozen times myself. Didn’t I tell you he respected vinegar? You dumped a whole vat of vinegar on his head.”

He rubbed his hand over the stubble on his chin and chuckled. “I suppose I did.”

“He had it coming. And watch, he’ll respect you now.” Newman jiggled the pistol in his hand.

Tom took it and slipped it back in its leather holster. “I’ll use it wisely, sir.”

“I know.” He returned the carbine. “Now get out there and yell at those men when they’re lazy, mope over a girl, laugh at the jokes, grumble about the chow, and
lead
.”

“Yes, sir.” Tom stood taller than he’d ever stood in his life, his chest and heart full. “I’ll do that.”

45

Termini Airfield
August 8, 1943

“Hode shti’ or I shtick you,” Georgie mumbled over the sewing pins clamped between her lips.

“Sorry.” Mellie stood still on top of an empty crate in the four-man tent while Georgie pinned up the hem of the turquoise sundress. Georgie was determined to finish before Mellie left.

Kay lounged on her cot. “That turned out cute.”

“I know,” Rose said from her bed. “Wait till Tom sees you in it.”

Mellie groaned. A dress, no matter how cute, would not make a difference.

“There. All done,” Georgie said in her normal voice. “Here’s a mirror. What do you think?”

Mellie tilted the hand mirror up and down to get a complete view. The fitted bodice and slightly gathered knee-length skirt complemented her figure, and the square neckline and wide shoulder straps provided plenty of modesty. “You do excellent work. It’s beautiful.”

“
You’re
beautiful,” Georgie said. “And that color looks great on you.”

Mellie had to admit she looked nice. An image popped in her mind—Tom seeing her in the dress, admiring her with that tremendous grin, holding her, kissing her. Nothing but a fantasy, and she shook it out of her head. She’d made her decision and written her letter the night before. She only had to hand it to Kay.

“All right. Take it off so I can get to work.” Georgie unbuttoned the back of the dress. “Now that we all have sundresses, we need a party to wear them to.”

“What are you up to?” Suspicion lowered Rose’s voice.

“Victory’s coming any day, and we’ll need to celebrate. Wouldn’t a beach party be fun? For all the officers around here?”

“A party?” Kay rolled onto her side and propped her head in one hand. “I like that idea.”

However, Mellie smelled a setup. Tom was an officer around here. She stepped carefully out of the sundress so as not to dislodge the pins.

Georgie took the dress. “We could set up a barbecue pit on the beach, have some fellows play dance music, and I had another idea.”

“Uh-oh.” Rose grinned. “I know that tone of voice.”

“Hush, you.” Georgie flapped a hand at her friend and arranged the fabric on her lap. “Did you meet that pharmacist at the 93rd Evac? Hutch, they call him. Very sweet but quiet and lonely. He misses his fiancée and isn’t happy in his job. But he has a telescope and knows all the constellations and their stories. And I heard the 93rd is at San Stefano now, just up the road, so I’ll finagle him over here to show us the stars during our party.”

Rose rested her chin on her forearms. “Watch out, Mr. Pharmacist. Georgiana Taylor has a new project.”

“A project?” Mellie buttoned her light blue uniform blouse.

“I need one.” She knotted the end of the thread. “I’m done with Rose, done with you.”

“I’m a project?”

“Sure.” Georgie gave her a fond smile. “And now look at you. No matter where you go, I know you’ll make friends. But I hope you’ll stay. You have to come to the party. We’ll get Tom there, and he’ll see you in that dress, and you’ll tell him who you are. Isn’t that romantic?”

Mellie rolled her eyes and zipped up her trousers. That would be a disaster.

Kay flopped onto her back. “Speaking of Tom, you got a letter for him? It’s been days, and he keeps bugging me.”

“I do.” Mellie’s voice came out leaden. She forced herself to walk to her cot and pull out the letter. She stared at it, hating how the words would break Tom’s heart. “This is the last one.”

“The last one?” Rose said. “Y’all have a fight?”

“No.” She fingered the envelope. “He gave me an ultimatum. If I don’t reveal my identity, the relationship is over.”

“Oh my goodness. Are you telling him?” Georgie said.

Mellie shook her head. She hadn’t told the girls because she wanted to make the decision on her own. Now she’d printed the decision in ink. “It wouldn’t be fair to him. He says he’ll love me no matter what I look like, but I know he doesn’t find me attractive. Can you imagine how embarrassed he’d be? He’d feel obligated to put up a pretense, but eventually he’d tell the truth and break it off, and we’d both end up heartbroken.”

Georgie shoved the sundress off her lap. “But you’re so cute. We’ll set up a meeting, and he’ll be pleased as punch.”

“Remember what happened with me?” Rose said. “I thought Clint had to be deranged to like me. Maybe Tom’s deranged too.”

“I wish.” Mellie managed a tiny smile. “No. I know how he feels, and I want to protect him. I don’t want to embarrass him.”

Kay snorted and got to her feet. “Oh brother. You’re not protecting him. You’re protecting yourself.”

“Excuse me?” The letter crinkled in Mellie’s grip.

“Come on, Kay,” Rose said. “Didn’t you hear her?”

“I heard her.” She pulled out her compact and flipped it open. “She said it’s less painful to reject him than to watch him reject her.”

“That’s not what—” Her breath caught. Yes, that was exactly what she said.

Georgie pulled the material back onto her lap. “That wasn’t what she said at all. She said she wants to protect him. She loves him.”

“Love?” Kay dabbed powder on her nose. “If you loved him, you’d want to please him. He wants to meet you. If you loved him, you’d give him that.”

“But I—”

“Yeah. But you.” Kay snapped her compact shut. “It’s about you. About you not getting hurt. You’re being selfish.”

Rose and Georgie gasped.

“I’m not,” Mellie whispered. “I do love him. But he can’t love me.”

“You know what? You’re right.” Kay strode to Mellie and snatched the letter from her hand. “You feel sorry for yourself. Of course he can’t love you. Who would?”

“Kay!” Georgie said. “How could you?”

Kay marched to the tent entrance and flipped a hand over her shoulder. “If you can’t pull yourself together and see yourself as we do—well, I don’t want to hear it. I spent years feeling sorry for myself, but I pulled myself together. I have no patience for it in others.” She flounced out of the tent.

Mellie gaped at the tent opening. Rose and Georgie voiced protests behind her, but Mellie could only hear Kay’s words.

Truth rang in those words.

“Hey, ladies.” A nurse peeked into the tent. “Lambert called an emergency squadron meeting. Let’s go. Where’s Kay off to in such a hurry?”

To deliver the letter to Tom, and Mellie’s heart writhed in agony.

“We’d better get going.” Georgie hooked her arm in Mellie’s and dragged her outside.

Rose took Mellie’s other arm. “Don’t listen to a word she said. With a face like hers, she’s never had a reason to feel sorry for herself.”

As they walked to headquarters, Rose and Georgie comforted her, bolstered her, and supported her decision. But Mellie couldn’t speak. Was her decision kind or selfish? Was she trying not to inflict pain or avoiding it?

Rose and Georgie hauled her into the stuffy headquarters tent, crowded with the nurses and technical sergeants stationed at Termini, all seated on crates.

Lieutenant Lambert stood. “Looks like everyone’s here. I wanted to introduce our new nurses, Lieutenants Mary Gerber and Evelyn Kerr.”

Goosie and Evelyn stood. Evelyn gave a polite nod, but Goosie waved maniacally.

Lambert smiled. “They’ve already made an impression and will be a welcome addition to our squadron.”

Mellie held back a sigh. Yes, they would. Evelyn was sweet, and Goosie was—well, Goosie. Mellie wouldn’t be missed.

“We’re sending Sylvia home to recuperate fully, and another nurse will also leave—for a very happy reason.”

Happy? Mellie frowned. Nothing happy about it.

But Lambert smiled at Wilma Blake Goodman. “We were
honored to attend the wedding of Wilma and Jim back at Maison Blanche, and now that marriage has been blessed. Wilma will return stateside to care for that blessing.”

Wilma blushed and lowered her gaze, and the room erupted in joyful murmurs.

Mellie’s mouth hung open, and her tongue dried out. What did this mean?

The chief nurse held up some papers. “I’m pleased to announce Mellie Blake will stay.”

Georgie and Rose squealed and squeezed Mellie’s arms.

Lambert thumbed through the papers. “I have a petition circulated by Georgie Taylor, and signed by every nurse and tech in the squadron, including those in Mateur and Palermo, asking for Mellie to be retained.”

Mellie swiveled her gaze to Georgie.

Her friend wore an expression filled with warmth and triumph. “Everyone.”

“Most of the signers included comments—that Mellie’s hardworking, kind, knowledgeable, and never complains. Sergeant Early said she’s the only nurse he’ll fly with, and underneath that, a nurse wrote, ‘Please keep Mellie so we don’t have to fly with him.’ Several women seconded that comment.”

Laughter resounded through the tent. Early’s face reddened, and he shot Mellie a grin.

She could only stare. Everywhere women and men smiled at her. They wanted her here?

Georgie put her arm around Mellie’s shoulders. “You said it would be best for the squadron if you left. I proved you wrong.”

“Everyone?” Mellie’s voice hiccupped.

“Even Vera and Alice,” Rose said.

Georgie enveloped her in a hug. “I’m so glad you’re staying. Are you?”

Mellie nodded on Georgie’s shoulder and hugged her back. “I am. I’m so happy.” A year before, if someone had told her an entire squadron would sign a petition for her, she never would have believed it. Even now, she could barely comprehend.

After the meeting was dismissed, Kay walked over. She dangled Mellie’s letter for Tom between her fingers. “Still think he could never like you?”

Mellie’s mind reeled. She pushed herself up on quivering legs and wiggled out of Georgie and Rose’s grasp. “I need to think. I need some time alone.”

“We’ll go with you,” Georgie said.

Mellie patted her friend’s shoulder. “Honey, alone means alone.”