“I'll try to see you over Christmas. But Charles and I are going to be pretty busy,” Joe said as she thought that she would have liked to offer to come to see him, but she didn't dare. She knew her parents would have been deeply upset by it. Her mother was already concerned that she had spent so much time with him over Thanksgiving, and even Joe sensed that. He didn't want to push it, and offend them.
“Just take care of yourself, Joe. Fly safely.” She said it with a tone of obvious concern, which touched him. She looked so sweet as she said the words.
“You do the same, and don't flunk out of school,” he teased, and she laughed. And then, with a funny little pat on her shoulder, he opened the front door for her with her key, and then ran quickly down the stairs and waved to her from the sidewalk. It was as though he had to get away from her before he did something he knew he shouldn't. She smiled as she walked through the front door, and closed it quietly behind her.
It had been an odd three days with him, they had been times of warmth and ease and friendship. And the wonder of flying with him. She told herself, as she walked slowly up the stairs, that she was glad she had met him. One day she would tell her children about him. And there was no doubt in her mind that when she did, they would not be his children. His life was already full, with airplanes and flying and test flights and engines. There was no room for a woman in it, not much anyway, and surely not for a wife and children. He had said as much to her on Cape Cod at the end of the summer, and again over the weekend. People were a sacrifice he was willing to make, for the sake of his passion for flying and planes. He had too little time to give anyone, he had said repeatedly, and she could see that. But at the same time, some deep primal part of her didn't accept that, or believe it. How could he be willing to give up the possibility of a family for his airplanes? But it wasn't for her to argue with him about it, and she knew that. She had to accept what he was saying. And she told herself that whatever she felt for him, or imagined that he felt for her, was only an illusion. It was nothing more than a dream.
On Sunday, before Kate left to go back to school, her mother said nothing about him. She had decided to take her husband's advice and wait to see what happened. Maybe he was right, and Joe would never pursue her any further. Maybe it was just a very unusual friendship between a grown man and a young girl. She hoped so. But no matter how hard she tried to believe what Clarke had said, she was not convinced.
And once back in the house at school, Kate didn't know why, but she was restless. The girls trickled back one by one, and reported on what they had done over the Thanksgiving weekend. Some had gone home with friends, others to their families. She chatted with her friends, but told no one about the visit from Joe. It was too hard to explain, and no one would have believed that she wasn't infatuated with him. She knew she could no longer say it with conviction herself. Sally Tuttle was the one who finally asked her about the man who had called her from California.
“Is he in school out there? Is he an old boyfriend?” She was curious about him, but Kate was noncommittal and avoided her eyes.
“No, he's just a friend. He's working out there.”
“He sounded nice on the phone.” It was the understatement of a lifetime, and all Kate could do was nod.
“I'll introduce you to him if he comes to Boston,” Kate teased her, and then they all went to get ready for classes the next day. One of the girls came back from the weekend with her family in Connecticut, and announced that she had gotten engaged over Thanksgiving. It made everything that Kate felt, and insisted she didn't feel, seem even more awkward. She had a crush on a man who was twelve years older than she, and insisted he never wanted to get married. And he didn't even know she had a crush on him. It was ridiculous really. By the time she went to bed that night she had convinced herself that she was being incredibly stupid, and if she wasn't careful, she'd annoy him and lose his friendship entirely, and he'd never take her up in a plane again. And she didn't want that to happen. She was still hoping that one day he would teach her to fly.
Much to her amazement, Joe called her the next day.
He said he had just landed at the airport. He'd had a tough flight, had to refuel three times, and had flown through two snowstorms. He had even been grounded for a while, due to hail over Waynoka, Oklahoma. Kate thought he sounded exhausted, and the trip had taken him twenty-two hours.
“It was so nice of you to call me,” she said, looking surprised and pleased. She hadn't expected to hear from him, and it confused her a little, but she suspected he was just being kind. What he said next confirmed it. He sounded nonchalant and a little cool.
“I didn't want you to worry. How's school?”
“It's okay.” She had actually been feeling sad since he left, and she was annoyed at herself for it. There was no reason for her to get attached to him. He had offered no encouragement, and had done nothing to mislead her. But she missed him anyway, even if she knew she shouldn't. In her eyes, it was like having a crush on the governor, or the president, or some lofty person who would forever be just out of reach for her. The only difference was that she and Joe were friends, and she enjoyed his company so much, it was hard not to get too caught up in the pleasure of being with him. And she had seen a side of him few people did, high up in the sky. She had no idea how much it had moved him too.
“I can't wait till Christmas vacation.” She made it sound as though her excitement was caused by the holidays and not the fact that he was moving back east again, to work with Charles Lindbergh. But she liked knowing that he would be closer. And she wondered if her parents would let her travel to New York to see him, maybe if one of her friends came with her. But she didn't mention that to Joe. She instinctively knew that if she had, it would have frightened him.
“I'll call you in a few days,” he said, sounding drained. He was dying to get some sleep after the arduous twenty-two-hour flight across the country.
“Isn't that terribly expensive? Maybe we should just stick to letters.”
“I can call you once in a while,” he said cautiously, “unless you'd rather I didn't.” He sounded poised for flight, and not nearly as relaxed as he had been with her over the weekend. His awkwardness seemed more pronounced when he called. Calling her was a big step for him.
“No, I'd like it,” Kate said quickly. “I just don't want to cost you a lot of money.”
“Don't worry about it.” It was, after all, cheaper than dinner. He had taken her to some very nice places, which was rare for him. So rare as to be nonexistent. He put every penny he earned into developing new engines and new planes. But he had wanted to do something special for her. She deserved it. And then, his voice sounded husky at the other end. “Kate?” She waited but he didn't say more until she answered. It was as though he wanted to be sure she was there, before he stuck his neck out.
“Yes?” She felt suddenly breathless, not sure what was coming, but sensing something fragile in him.
“Will you still write to me? I love your letters.” She smiled then, not sure if she was disappointed or relieved. He had sounded so serious when he said her name that for a moment she'd been worried. He had sounded as though he were about to say something important. It was to him, but not what Kate had hoped for or expected.
“Of course I will,” she reassured him. “I have exams next week though.”
“So do I,” he laughed. He had test flights scheduled all week. Some of them were going to be pretty dangerous, but he wanted to do them himself before he left California, although he didn't say that to her. “I'll be pretty tied up for the next few weeks, but I'll call you when I can.” A moment later, he hung up, and Kate went back to her room to study, trying not to think too much about him.
She had been wondering about something all weekend. She hadn't said anything to Joe but her parents were giving her a big party at the Copley Plaza for her coming out just before Christmas. She was going to be presented at the debutante cotillion, and her own party was going to be lovely, but not nearly as lavish as the one where she had met Joe. She hadn't dared broach the subject yet, but she was planning to ask her parents if she could invite him. She wasn't sure if he could come, but she at least wanted to ask him and hoped he would. She knew it would be much more fun for her if he were there, but her mother had been so nervous about Joe, that Kate didn't want to push it. There was still time. The party was more than three weeks away, and Joe was still in California. And she was sure that when he did return, his social calendar wouldn't be full yet.
As it turned out, a week later, to the day, she was talking to her mother on the phone on Sunday at lunchtime, about the ball, and some of the questions she still had, when one of the girls from her house came running down the hall crying. Kate was sure that something terrible had happened to her, some awful news from home, maybe one of her parents had died. She was saying something unintelligible as Kate continued to listen to her mother. Liz had a long list of questions about cakes and hors d'oeuvres, and the exact dimensions of the dance floor. Kate's dress had been ready since October. It had a plain white satin bodice and a tulle skirt, and she looked incredible in it. And over her shoulders there was a haze of white tulle, through which one saw the shimmering bodice. She was going to wear her dark auburn hair pulled back in a neat bun, like a Degas ballerina. As the dressmaker had said, as she looked at Kate admiringly, all she needed were toe shoes. Her mind was full of girlish details as she began to hear people shouting to each other. A group of girls had been just leaving the house for lunch, when the inexplicable shouting began.
“What did you say, Mom?” Kate asked her to repeat the question. There was so much noise coming from the house that Kate couldn't hear a thing.
“I said… oh my God… what? … are you serious? Clarke…” She could hear her mother start to cry and didn't know what had happened.
“Did something happen to Dad? Mom, what's wrong?” Her heart began to beat wildly. Then suddenly, as she looked around her, she noticed that a number of girls in the hall were crying too. Then it hit her, this wasn't just about her father, something terrible had happened. “Mom, what's happening? Do you know?”
“Your father was just listening to the radio.” He was standing in the kitchen in disbelief, saying something unbelievable to her. An entire nation was as shocked as they were. “Pearl Harbor was bombed by the Japanese half an hour ago. A number of ships were sunk, and a lot of men were killed and wounded. My God, this is awful.” As Kate looked down the hall toward the rooms, she could see the entire house was in chaos. Kate heard radios on in every room and she heard the continual sounds of crying. So many girls realized that their fathers and brothers and fiancés and boyfriends were suddenly at risk. There was no way America could stay out of the war any longer. The Japanese had brought it right to their door, and despite all his previous promises, President Roosevelt was going to have to do something radical about it. Kate quickly got off the phone, and hurried back to her room to see what people were saying about the news.
They all sat quietly, tears pouring down their faces as they listened to the news on the radio. One of the girls in her house was from Hawaii, and she knew that there were two Japanese girls in an upstairs room. She couldn't even imagine what they must have been feeling, trapped in a foreign country, so far from home.
It was later that night when she finally called her mother back, and by then, they had all been listening to the radio all day. It was unthinkable, and easy to believe that within a very short time the nation's young men would be sent far, far from home to fight this war. And only God knew how many of them would survive.
All the Jamisons could think of when they heard the news was that they were grateful they didn't have a son. In cities and towns and backwaters everywhere, young men were facing the fact that they had to leave their families to defend their country. It was beyond imagining, and there was considerable concern that the Japanese would attack again. Everyone felt sure that the next attack would be on California, and there was pandemonium spreading there.
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