Hold My Heart (24 page)

chapter 25

“You need any help with the USO dance, Carol?” I’ve already cleared it with Will. Hopefully he mentioned it to his mother.

“If you’re up to it, Lily,” she responds cheerfully.

After figuring out early this morning my suspect must be local, I decided the dance is the perfect venue to spot him. If I’m right, he will probably be at the USO dance this afternoon. All the young men in town will be attending. Those soldiers home from war and those heading to war.

“Absolutely, it’s the least I can do.” I grin and she smiles back. “How can I help?”

“Well, you can accompany me to the town hall to decorate.” She’s busy gathering supplies.

“Great.”

I’ve kept a very low profile since my arrival as Will requested and I agreed. As far as the town knows, I’m a distant relative of Carol’s visiting for a few weeks. The encounters with Robert were bad enough. So, I’ve stayed away from town as much as possible.

The morning has brought some overcast clouds, moving rapidly through the area, giving the day small glimpses of sunshine here and there. I help her carry the signs and decorations she’s been working on all week from the living room to her honey-mustard colored vehicle, and we head to the town hall.

After a slow ride to town, I learn Carol’s vehicle is a 1935 Chevrolet Standard 4-door. Bill bought it for her as an anniversary present and taught her to drive it as well. She also tells me Bill was the one that taught Will and Mary how to drive, and they both were driving the tractor by the age of twelve. He never did get the chance to teach MJ.

The rest of the ride is silent as Carol’s demeanor changes after talking about her late husband. Her grief is palpable, and I can’t help but grieve right along with her as memories of Tommy flood me. Pain ceases my chest at the thought that I’ll never see him again, but I quickly shake it off. I redirect my thoughts to my mission: catching this guy.

We finally pull into the town hall, and I help Carol unload the decorations and carry them into the main ballroom. The town hall is next to the school. It’s a brick building, with large doors opening to a massive empty space that looks like a ballroom. As we walk in, all the women inside stop and stare. Carol acts casual as she greets the women. That must be a signal since they go back to whatever they were doing before we arrived.

“Well hello, Carol, is this the mystery girl you’ve been hiding?” A woman about Carol’s age, maybe older and much heavier, approaches us. Her hair is up in a bun, her makeup impeccable, her bright red lipstick painted on a smile that doesn’t reach her eyes.

“Hello, Miriam,” Carol greets in a chilled tone, the air dropping a few degrees. She doesn’t introduce me. Carol is the kindest person I’ve met here in the past. If she’s not introducing me, it means I don’t want to know this woman.

The woman is unfazed, and then turns to me. “I’m Miriam, Carol’s sister-in-law.” As she addresses me, her vulture gaze sizes me up and down.

Carol chimes in, “She’s the widow of Bill’s brother.”

I detect some bad blood going on, but I remain silent, nodding to the woman.

“So, what’s your relation to Carol exactly? Will didn’t say.” This woman’s demeanor is like nails on a chalkboard.

“By marriage,” I answer, not knowing what to say.

“You look a little long in the tooth, is your husband off fighting?”

Wow. Before I can even open my mouth and tell her to go fuck herself, Carol intercedes.

“Miriam, nice to see you, but we have so much work to do.” Without missing a beat, she turns to me. “Lily, could you take these down to Mary at the other end of the hall?”

“Of course.” I smile, taking the decorations from her.

Bless her. I glance to where she’s pointing and see Mary talking to other women at the far end. The room is huge, and the women have set up chairs and small round tables around the perimeter, leaving a huge empty space in the middle for dancing. Streamers, flags, and signs wishing the boys luck, and “Welcome Home” are already adorning the walls.

“Goodbye, Miriam,” I say, looking straight at Miriam while she eyes me suspiciously, one eyebrow arched.

I walk across the vast dance floor and take in the atmosphere. Women are diligently working to make this room a refuge for their sons, husbands, and brothers from the horror of what is taking place halfway around the world. Their dedication and work as one unit is impressive. All conversation is about the war effort. Businesses, families, even dinnertime conversations at the Shaw farm, sometimes center on the ‘boys’ away at war.

The band is setting up. There must be at least ten musicians tuning their instruments, getting ready to play for the crowd. I near Mary and she spots me, eagerly waving me over and introducing me to the young women with her. Most of these women have a loved one away in the war: brothers, husbands, sweethearts. A few others are here to volunteer their time, and give the boys a dance partner. Even MJ is helping with some younger kids as they make homemade decorations. Women are bringing in tablecloths while a few men are carrying in the last of the tables. One of them is Will.

“Lily?” Mary brings me back to the now. “Could you hand me those streamers?”

“Sure.”
Stay on task, Harper.
“So, how many locals are you expecting?”

“I don’t know, at least a hundred people, including us ladies,” Mary answers, looking around at the other young women for confirmation.

“All right, so there will be lots of dancing, huh?” God, I suck at small talk.

“Yes, of course! We’ll be heading back home to get ready for the dance when we finish here. I even picked out a dress for you already,” Mary says, shooting a conspiring look at her friends. They all smile.

Mary must have told them about my little diner meeting with Robert. Apparently, I’ve become somewhat of a folk hero among these young women; they’re all fawning over me. I’m glad I was able to help them, even if I ended up screwing up my own life.

“What are you up to?” I ask, skeptically.

“You’ll see, when I get done with you, Lily, you’re going to be the cat’s meow!” Mary says with a big smile. “Let’s get to it, ladies!” she orders, and they all cheerfully comply.

قلب

Once the decorating is done, we return to the house to prepare for the dance. The dress Mary picked for me is a red floral swing dress. White stemmed flowers that remind me of Hawaii give the dress an airy, fun look right down to the skirt. It has shoulder pads and short sleeves with a collar that ties into a bow, the vertical pleats accentuate my waist, and the A-line skirt flows freely. The beautiful dress molds to my curves, creating the perfect hourglass shape. She completes the look with makeup, giving me perfect red lips that match my dress. My outfit is complete with white ‘jitterbug’ shoes.

“The red tips are a nice touch,” Mary says about the shoes in a satisfied tone. “Now let’s work on your hair.”

Mary is wearing a green dress similar to mine with a white flower pattern, except her collar is a V-shape that comes down to a banded waist just below her bust, circling her torso. The skirt is flowing like mine, perfect for swing dancing, Mary informs me. She lets her light brown hair down and pins one side with a matching white flower accessory. The green makes her hazel eyes sparkle.

We walk to her small dressing station and she instructs me to sit in front of her mirror.

As she brushes my hair, she casually asks, “So are you driving with Mom, MJ and me, or is Will driving you?” She smiles playfully, hoping it is the latter.

Mary, Carol, and MJ have grown fond of me, to the point that they have stopped wondering where I came from or who I am. Like Carol said, all they care about is that Will has come back to life since meeting me. It is heartbreaking to keep my secret from these dear women. I hate not being able to tell them who I really am. How will I ever be able to say goodbye? Because like it or not, I will have to leave them, whether I’m stuck here in 1944 or I go home.

“I’m driving with you, if that’s okay,” I answer nonchalantly.

“Oh.” Mary sounds disappointed. I look down at my dress, avoiding eye contact. I don’t want to explain how complicated my predicament is to her.

She remains silent as she does my hair. We’ve reached an unspoken understanding about the subject of her brother and it is not something I want to address at the moment. Taking advantage of my natural curls, Mary divided it into sections and pinned them in calculated clumps around my head. The process took a while. Letting my curls loose, she carefully brushes my hair out.

“There, all done, just like Rita Hayworth,” Mary announces. I look at my reflection in the mirror. Mary fixed my hair by shaping my curls, then pulling them away from my face, and pinning my hair on the side.

I can’t believe that’s me. I look...striking. My chestnut brown hair, my light complexion, and my amber eyes, framed by my dark, manicured eyebrows, make a perfect picture complemented by the makeup Mary added. The contrast of my red lips against my white teeth and my red and white dress has turned me into another woman. I can’t believe I’m that beautiful stranger staring back at me. I gape at my reflection, speechless. Now
this
is more my style. Classic, yet chic.

“Wow,” is all I can manage.

Mary beams at me, her small dimples showing, like her big brother. “Told you, the cat’s meow. Now, we best get going or they might start without us.”

قلب

We arrive at the USO dance and the place is already packed. I think the whole town is here. The band is so loud the music filters outside to the parking area. A large number of young women and a few uniformed men are outside smoking and talking, drinking, and laughing. Smoking is something I won’t miss. The cigarette smoke cloud is so thick, it is visible. No wonder the average life span is like fifty-five.

Ignoring clothing, I focus on faces. My interaction with the suspect was brief, but I got a good look at him. I am convinced that burnt silhouette near mine in the Shaw field is none other than the man responsible for killing those women in my time. I couldn’t hide my gear under these clothes. I hope to spot him, find out where he lives, and then go after him. It’s the best I can do.

“Let’s go inside, Lily,” Mary calls after me and I follow.

We enter the large hall, and Mary starts moving to the music, informing me they’re playing the “Boogie Woogie Bugle Boy.” Once the song is over, the band announces Glen Miller’s “In the Mood.” I recognize the song. I’ve heard it in movies and on the radio at the Shaw farm. The dance floor swells up with dancers, spilling over the ends, everyone swing dancing, and whooping it up. The soldiers waiting for their turn tap their feet to the music.

Meanwhile, I walk alongside Mary, scanning the crowd. I can’t help thinking of Tommy and that night at the club. I was in the same position, trying to locate the same suspect. The difference is, I am almost seventy years in the past. The place is packed with a sea of young men, the scent of cigarette smoke and Old Spice cologne permeating the air. Not long after we enter, my eyes lock on a familiar face: Will. He’s looking straight at me as if we are the only two people in the room. I can’t look away.

Will’s brilliant blue eyes take me in, reminding me of the way he looked at me that night out in the field. He’s wearing pleated khaki trousers, a smooth brown shirt, and brown saddle shoes with black accents. His hair is neatly brushed, parted to the side, and he’s clean-shaven. It’s strange to see him looking so formal, without his beard stubble, work clothes, and overgrown hair. I must have stopped walking because Mary calls for me.

“Come on, Lily, let me introduce you to some of the boys.” I break eye contact with Will and follow Mary.

It doesn’t take long before I agree to dance with some of the men. Despite MJ’s nightly lessons in the living room, I try to follow their lead, and do horribly at it. I’m more of a freestyle type of dancer and couple’s dancing is not my forte. Luckily, they’re playing “Moonlight Serenade” which is slow enough that I don’t have to move much, like when I danced with Tommy.

I miss him. Being here reminds me of that last night together at the club and the feelings that his touch stirred, having his hands, his breath, and his lips on my skin. Truth is I resented Tommy for what his touch did that night—bring back those feelings of rejection from years ago.

I checked out of the TLQ the day after he rejected me. Next morning I ran into him. I’ll never forget the expression on his face. He looked like he was going to tell me he ran over my dog. Regret. Pity. I knew he was going to apologize and say it was all a mistake. I couldn't stand it.

So, I did what I had to do. I lied to him. Saved face for both of us. Before he got a word in, I apologized for inconveniencing him and not remembering anything about that night. I thanked him for seeing me safely back to the TLQ, and told him I was spending the rest of my leave with a girlfriend, leaving the post that day.

But the truth was there was no girlfriend. Instead, I checked into a hotel off-post for the rest of my stay in the states. I kept to myself, holed up in my hotel room, living off room service and wallowing in embarrassment and self-loathing. The one time in my entire life that I took a leap and acted on my feelings, I ended up falling flat on my face.

I must hold the record for the longest walk of shame, having to fly all the way around the world when we returned to Afghanistan to finish our tour. I avoided him as much as I could, but once we returned to duty, we had to deal with each other on a daily basis. We kept our relationship strictly professional and eventually he became more of a big brother figure and a best friend than anything else.