Semper Fi (38 page)

“All this time we’ve been fighting the Japs, but it was so far away from Japan. Now that we’re getting close it just…it changes things.” Jim shook his head as if casting off the thought. “I guess they’re used to it over in Europe. Civilians everywhere there.”

Cal followed Jim’s gaze to a giggling little girl. “The kids must make you think of Sophie.”

Jim gulped from his canteen before wiping his mouth with his sleeve. “Yeah.” He seemed to want to say more, and after a few moments, he did. “Guadalcanal and Peleliu—they were like something out of a horror story. The heat and the bugs and the death. But this place…it’s a home.”

They stood in silence, watching the children until they moved out.

A day later, they were back in the thick of it. Eyes wide, the replacements panted, cringing as rifles popped and the whine of incoming artillery reached their ears. Cal thought grimly to himself that at least the new boys finally knew what real battle was like. He scooted next to Gambler, who struggled with his mortar base. “You’re pushing too hard. Ease up.”

Shaking, Gambler nodded. “Yes, Sarge.” He ducked as another shell exploded nearby. “How long?”

Cal helped the ammo carrier, a trembling boy they called Winnie, with his load. “How long until what?”

Gambler swallowed hard. “Until it stops?”

“When we’re off the line, and not even then. Stay sharp. All of you. Just remember your training. Do your jobs and we’ll get out of here.” They all knew it was a lie, but he had to say it. He forced a smile. “Think of the stories you’ll have to tell your girls back home.”

Crouching, he rejoined Jim and Sully. The shellacking from the Japanese continued, shells and artillery beating back the rifle squads that tried to push forward. With bullets tearing up the ground at his feet, a Marine carrying an injured man on his back came into sight on the field.

“Can we send up a smokescreen?” Sully asked.

Jim shook his head. “We’re too close to our troops.”

“Come on, come on,” Cal muttered, eyes glued to the staggering man.

One of the replacements cried out, “Jesus, can’t they let the injured go through? Ain’t there rules about that?”

“The Japs don’t follow any rules except their own, and their number one rule is to kill us at all costs,” Cal answered.

Struggling with the weight of his injured comrade, the Marine pushed on. A burst of machine gun fire peppered the air, and he toppled to the ground. Cal’s breath lodged in his throat as he willed the fallen man back to his feet. Then in a blur, Jim was gone, racing out from behind the relative safety of their foxhole before Cal could even blink.

Swearing, Cal grabbed his rifle and went up on his knees, targeting the Jap machine gunners. There was a flicker of movement, and he fired, taking the gunner down. Another appeared, and Cal got him in his sights.

Dragging the two fallen men across the field, Jim struggled back.

The Japs’ attention was now on Cal, and he flattened as they returned fire. But he refused to retreat into his foxhole, and shot repeatedly as Jim and now Sully and a few others rescued the downed men, finally able to haul them to safety.

A cheer rose up from the other Marines, and Cal shimmied back, pushing with his elbows. Saliva filled his mouth as nausea reared up, thinking of how easy it would have been for Jim to be cut down. Cal squeezed his eyes shut and fought to breathe. When Jim slid into the foxhole beside him, Cal raised his head.

Some men would be proud as peacocks after such heroics. But Jim’s gaze was on the enemy’s position, and he acted as if he’d only left to relieve himself, and that nothing unusual whatsoever had happened.

Cal’s voice was hoarse. “Are they going to make it?”

“Don’t know. Pray to God they will.”

Cal gripped the front of Jim’s jacket. “You ever pull a stunt like that again, and I’ll kill you myself.”

Blinking, Jim stared. “If it was me out there injured, I’d want the help. Wouldn’t you?”

“Christ, of course. That doesn’t mean you go barreling into enemy fire. You can’t risk yourself like that!” He leaned close to Jim, tightening his fingers in the neck of Jim’s jacket. “Not you.”

Jim frowned. “I’m no better than anyone else out here. Besides, it was your sharpshooting that saved the day. You were just as much at risk.”

“That’s not the point!” He gave Jim a shake. “Just be careful.”

Jim’s expression softened. “Is that an order?”

Cal huffed out a laugh as he let go. “Yes, it’s a goddamned order.”

Another round of shells screamed toward them as Sully dove back into the hole, and they ducked their heads, helmets clanging together as another wave began.

“For goodness sake, Cal. It’s one evening. Surely you can carve some time in your busy schedule to celebrate your parents’ anniversary. Your father and I want you to be there.”

Cal wedged the phone between his ear and shoulder and lit a cigarette as he sat back on the couch. The late-afternoon sunlight dappled the walls of his apartment. “Did Dad say that?”

His mother huffed. “Of course he wants you there. You’re his only son, and this is an important event. Thirty-five years together is nothing to sneeze at. Everyone will be there. I’m sure you’ll have a lovely time.”

“I’m sure.”

“Darling, would you please cease with the cynicism? I realize you and your father are not on the best terms at the moment.”

“What did the old man have to say about that?”

“He told me you quit.” She sighed. “With no notice, I might add.”

He blew out a stream of smoke. “I had another commitment.”

“Your friend with the little…what is it? A farm?” She pronounced the last word as if it had stuck to the bottom of her suede, peep-toe pumps.

Cal wondered whether Victoria Cunningham,
née
Withrow, had ever stepped foot on a farm.

“Apple orchard.”

“Yes, well. It sounds charming. But really, you can postpone whatever it is you’re doing by a few days and come to the party this weekend. You cannot expect your sister and Charles to do all the work representing the next generation of the Cunninghams. Besides, I haven’t seen you since my charity ball in the summer, when you graced us with your presence for barely more than half an hour. Your sister has taken on the planning of this party, and your support would mean the world to her.”

“I’m sure Laura will survive just fine without me. As will you.”

There was a long pause, and then his mother’s voice softened. “I do miss you, Cal. I hope you know that.”

Resignation washed over him. “All right. I’ll be there.”

“Excellent. Kiss, kiss.”

He listened to the dial tone until it began beeping, and returned the phone to its cradle. After stubbing out his cigarette and pouring himself a finger of whiskey, he picked up the phone again. On the fourth ring, a breathless voice answered.

“Hello, this is Clover Grove. Sophie speaking.”

Cal smiled, and the burn of the whiskey disappeared into gentle warmth. “Hi, Sophie.” It had only been five days since he’d seen her on his weekly visit to the orchard, but he missed her so damn much.

“Uncle Cal?” She squealed. “I missed you!”

“Me too, kiddo. How’s your shoulder?”

“Lots better. Dr. O’Brien says I can take the sling off soon.”

“That’s great. How’s everything else going?”

“Good. The harvest is starting, so there are lots of people around to help pick. Daddy’s really busy. He’s tired. I wish you were here every day.”

“I wish I was too.” Worry mingled with the residual guilt from his conversation with his mother. “Your daddy’s okay, isn’t he? He’s not sick or anything?”

There was a pause. “Not sick. Just sad the way he always is when you’re not here. And…”

After a few moments of silence, Cal asked, “And what? What is it, hon?”

Her voice was hushed. “I don’t know if I’m supposed to say anything. It might be a secret.”

“You can tell me. Your daddy and I don’t have any secrets.” His pulse galloped. “Did something happen?”

“Last night he was yelling.”

“That doesn’t sound like your dad. Did he yell at you? Were you naughty?”

“No! Besides, it wasn’t at me. It wasn’t at anyone—it was in the middle of the night. I heard him yelling, and I went to his room. He was asleep. I had to shout for him to wake up. He said it was just a bad dream.”

Cal closed his eyes, steeling himself against the urge to get in the car and drive to the orchard right away. “I’m sure that’s what it was. We all have bad dreams sometimes.”

“I know, but Daddy’s are worse. I heard Mommy talking about it once with Aunt Rebecca.”

“It’s true, your dad has some bad nightmares sometimes.”

“Because of the war.”

“Yes. Because of the war.”

“Do you have nightmares, too, Uncle Cal?”

He sighed, rubbing his face. “Sometimes.”

“Is it because of Okinawa? I don’t understand what it means. Is that a bad place?”

Cal wanted to say yes—that it was a terrible place. Yet there had once been beauty there, and good people. But the war had turned it all impossibly ugly. He kept his tone light. “Don’t worry about any of that. We’re both fine, and I’ll be there to see you soon.”

“Tomorrow, right? Daddy said you’re coming tomorrow.”

“Actually it’s going to have to be Monday. There’s something I need to do this weekend that’s really important.”

“More important than
us
?”

He could practically see Sophie’s pout through the phone. “Never. But I have to go see my mom and dad. Can you tell your daddy to call me when he gets back from work?”

“Okay.” There was a muffled noise, and then, “Adam, don’t! Uncle Cal, I have to go. Bye!”

Cal smiled to himself as he hung up. He couldn’t wait to get back to see the kids—and Jim. Even if Jim hadn’t changed his mind and it was only a visit. Now Cal just had to get through the weekend. He poured himself another drink.

“Cal, you remember the Thorngoods?”

He pivoted on the smooth marble of the great hall, his best dress shoes not even making a squeak. Hundreds of guests crowded under vaulted ceilings and Impressionist frescoes. His mother placed a diamond-encrusted hand on his tuxedo sleeve. Her anniversary bracelet was a perfect complement to her engagement ring.

A smile in place, Cal nodded. “Of course. Eva, Michael. It’s been too long.” He kissed Eva’s cheek and shook Michael’s hand.

Aging gracefully, Eva was as coiffed and perfectly presented as ever, the emeralds sparkling in her ears accenting the green shimmer in her black gown. “Cal. How lovely to see you again.”

“What are you up to these days?” Michael asked. “I hear you’ve quit the family business like any good prodigal son should. I thought when you joined the
Marines
it was the height of your youthful rebellion.” He was grayer on top and bigger around the middle, but he was still a handsome man. “You know you can always come work under me. I’m sure I could find a place for you.”

Cal returned the smile genuinely. “I’m sure you could. You always were a mentor, Michael. But I’m a business owner now.” From the corner of his eye he saw his mother jolt ever so slightly.

She laughed softly, pressing one hand to the scalloped neckline of her satin blue gown. “No tall tales tonight, Cal.”

“Didn’t Father tell you? I was sure he would. We share an accountant, after all.”

His mother’s smile tightened. “Eva, Michael, would you excuse us? I see the Edwardses have arrived and we must greet them.” She threaded her hand through Cal’s arm and tugged gracefully.

As they wove past Cal’s sister speaking in hushed tones with the butler, Cal wheeled, giving his mother no choice but to follow. Laura beamed and planted a kiss on his cheek.

“Don’t you look handsome, big brother?”

Cal grinned. “Always.” He nodded to her upswept hair and gown of deep purple. “And don’t you look ravishing?”

“Always.” She winked.

Cal felt like a heel for how long it had been since he’d seen his sister. She was eight years younger, and they’d never known each other particularly well what with boarding schools. Perhaps it was something he could change. He glanced toward the disappearing butler and snagged a glass of champagne from a passing tray. “Everything all right?”