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  “Breakfast? You expect me to eat breakfast? No thanks….there isn’t time for breakfast. I’ll have to hustle to get out of here pretty soon, or I’ll be late for work. I wouldn’t want to lose my wonderful job.” I pictured Mr. Boyle standing by the office window with his pocket watch in his hand, monitoring my arrival time.

       Rain was coming down in sheets and running a couple of inches deep in the streets. As I walked, the water splashed my stockings and dripped down into my galoshes. The morning had been so very humiliating.  “Things can’t get much worse,” I thought.

       As I approached the drug store, at the corner where the highway crossed the main street, I noticed a coupe pull up to the curb. It looked like Bob’s car. The driver’s door opened and Penny Parker got out, glanced at me briefly, and went into the drug store.

       What was Penny Parker doing with Bob’s car when, only last night, I was out with him in that very car until early this morning? Could he have seen her after he took me home? Did she take him to the bus – or even see him off?

       Today, life felt like a house of cards – everything seemed to be falling apart since the alarm clock went off.

       Just as predicted, Mr. Boyle was standing by the window with his watch in hand. Luckily, I arrived with one minute to spare, according to the big clock on the wall.

       He appeared to be relieved to see me. “If you didn’t have a ride, you should have called. One of the men could have picked you up.”

       I looked up and thanked him. It was at that moment that he noticed the handprint across the left side of my face.

       “What happened to your face….did you fall?”

        I shook my head and replied, “No, I didn’t fall….I’ll be okay.”                                                      He came over to my desk and looked down at me. “There’s a handprint on your face and your eye is bruised. I’ll run downstairs and get some ice to bring down the swelling,” he said over his shoulder as he left the room.

       I didn’t know whether I felt overwhelmed by his kindness or sorry for myself, but I had a good cry before he returned and decided that this day could only get better.

       There was very little activity at the office, probably due to the rain. At lunch time, the plant foreman brought me a ham sandwich and a cup of coffee —- “so I wouldn’t have to go out.” The foreman never looked me in the face — he just put the paper sack down on my desk and started for the door. As he reached for the door knob, he turned in my direction and said, “Be ready at 4:30…I’ll take you home so you don’t get rained on.”

       No doubt, Mr. Boyle told the entire crew that I was beaten and bruised and they were all concerned. Probably, by tomorrow, the whole town would be concerned and my mother would be right there to give them all the details.

Chapter 6 tomorrow…

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  The road wound around the coves. Lights from the little boats twinkled on the water. Bob put his arm around my shoulders and drew me closer. He probably suspected I was doing all I could to hold back the tears.

       “Laurel, I really enjoy being with you and hope you feel the same about me. When this war is over, and if I get back okay, I would like to see you again.”

       “Bob Martin, I would want to see you again even if you don’t come back okay — and don’t talk that way. You will return just the way you are today, but just a shade older. Looking forward to the day you return gives me something to keep my dreams and memories alive…” I choked up and thought it a good time to stop talking.

       Bob parked the car by a marina, which was closed for the night. The boats were all tied up at their docks and bobbed up and down with the waves from the inlet.

       He shut off the engine and we looked out over the water. A lighthouse was blinking on the horizon, on the other side of the bay. The American Revolution was fought right here on this very ground — British warships still remained at the bottom of the bay. Wars never seemed to settle anything; they’ve been going on since the beginning of time.…

       “What are you thinking about?” Bob asked softly.

       “You,” I lied. I didn’t want to bring up the subject of war.

       We exchanged glances and, as if he asked me with his eyes, I laid my head on his shoulder and pretended to write messages on the palm of his hand — like “I’ll miss you” — as he tried to guess what I had written. I prayed the stupid little pastime would distract him from noticing the tears in my eyes.

       Bob reached over to the glove compartment and took out a square white box. “It’s for you. I know for sure you don’t have one just like it.”

       I lifted the lid and could see, by the lights from the marina, a gold heart locket on a chain. I opened it and inside the locket was his picture — with -one of those “all over his face” smiles.

       “It’s so beautiful. I love it!  Help me put it on.…”

       As he fastened the clasp, I put my arms around his neck and kissed him. It was a long kiss and we kissed again. I put my head on his chest and wished the evening would never end — and I told him so — and he kissed me so passionately, my toes tingled.

starting chapter 5 tomorrow

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