OCTOBER 10th 1941
U.S. NAVY INTELLIGENCE
WASHINGTON D.C.
Eponine Combeferre was forty-seven now. Her Irish accent had faded into history as she adapted into the American ways. The same went for her forty-nine-year-old husband, Col. Franklin Combeferre of US Navy Intelligence. Next year would be their 30th wedding anniversary. And they had five grown children and felt life couldn't be more bliss.
Every morning that Eponine would drive her husband and their eldest daughter, 27-year old Veronica Combeferre to work, she felt as if she were on cloud nine.
Veronica was a very attractive young woman. She inherited her mother's dark wavy hair but sadly, Frank's poor eyesight. But her taste in glasses compensated her vision. Her clothing style was a white buttoned blouse underneath a sweater, and black skirts.
She worked as Personal Assistant to her Father, who was working on something that wasn't meant to be discussed lightly for security purposes.
Frank worked with Navy Lt. Com. Alvin D. Kramer, and Army Col. Rufus G. Bratton, on a secret project called "Operation Magic."
Because of the rise in diplomatic tensions, America had suspected that Japan would deliver coded messages from Tokyo to their own embassy right here in Washington. The task of Operation Magic was to intercept any messages delivered between the two, and decode their messages.
Frank couldn't tell his wife what the messages were in detail, just enough so that she understood what it is that he does to earn his government wage.
"It just doesn't seem right…" Eponine said as she was driving their 1941 Cadillac Sixty Special. "Doesn't it come close to spying on other countries' affairs?" she asked.
Franklin sighed. "Well, I personally am not a fan of it myself, but we must remember: Any information that could lead to war is vital to us. We have to be prepared, and to do that, we need to know what the enemy knows."
Eponine shifted uncomfortably in her seat. "But they're not the enemy. We're not at war."
"My dear…I do not wish to argue. But we must put this in perspective. Think about what happened to Poland. If they had any suspicions that the Nazis would invade, wouldn't you want them to have a project such as this?"
Eponine sighed. "I guess you're right."
Veronica smiled to herself. This is why she's never seen her parents argue or have any fights that last for more than five minutes. Her mother would voice whatever concern was in her mind, and her father would reassure her and instill logic in her mind. And he'd always find a way to let logic seep into her mind, thus eradicating her worries.
In her opinion, her parents had the perfect marriage and she sometimes grew envious of it.
"I just…I don't want us to go into war…Not again." Eponine said. "Our sons are in the military. Doesn't that phase you?"
"Of course it does, darling. But you and I both know that they needed to spread their wings eventually. Alan loves the sea and Patrick and James love to fly."
"Well…at least they're all together in the same area. That makes it less of a worry for me." Eponine conceded.
Frank laughed. "I'd imagine they'd be having the time of their lives down there. Not including all of the pretty hula girls." He joked.
Eponine responded by playfully smacking Franklin on the arm.
"I've seen the postcards, Mom." Veronica added. "I have to say, you couldn't ask for a more perfect place to be stationed in. The scenery is just…breathtaking!"
Frank nodded. "Pearl Harbor is certainly a paradise."
!
Eponine pulled to the curb at the entrance of Frank's building, and bid him and their daughter goodbye as they walked into work.
Their last daughter, Azelma, was attending college in New York. So that was one less of a Combeferre that Eponine had to worry about, with everyone else somehow being involved in the war.
Gavroche Thenardier became quite a fighter. He left Ireland and joined the British in defense against the German Luftwaffe raids and played a major role in the Battle of Britain. He returned back to the United States after his commission was up, and had promised Eponine to never go out to sea again, no matter what circumstances. Now he resides with Azelma for company, and works as a shopkeeper.
Frank and Veronica entered their office amidst the loud commotion of the banging of typewriters and papers being passed around. Veronica walked over to her desk and went straight to work, while Frank opened the door that said "NO ADMITTANCE WITHOUT OFFICIAL AUTHORIZATION."
He set down his briefcase with its own little lock, and was greeted by Kramer and Bratton. "Morning Gentlemen. Has anything new happened?"
Kramer shook his head. "No. Tokyo hasn't sent anything to their Embassy in three days now."
Combeferre nodded in acknowledgement. "And how are the peace talks going?"
Bratton sighed. "Well according to Secretary Hull, Ambassador Normura is talking in circles…on Tokyo's orders."
"How so?" Combeferre asked.
"Normura brings in these 'propositions' from Tokyo. Hull provides compromises for Normura to send back to Tokyo for approval. And what response does Tokyo give Normura?" Bratton asks Combeferre.
When Combeferre shakes his head indicating he doesn't know the answer, Kramer chimes in. "Tokyo sends propositions to counter the compromises."
Combeferre adjusted his glasses as he took a look at the decoded intercept documents. "You don't suppose they would be stalling for something, do you?"
"What could they be stalling for?" Bratton asked.
Combeferre pondered on that question, then shrugged his shoulders. "Never mind. It's impossible."
!
Veronica had just pulled out her tenth document from the typewriter in a record breaking speed of seven minutes.
It was then that she looked up and saw someone walking towards her.
Of course. It was her work-crush, Cpt. Kyle Beauregard, Military Intelligence. He certainly put the 'Beau' in Beauregard, that's for sure.
"Hello, Miss Combeferre!" He said in a chipper crisp voice.
"Good morning, Captain."
The handsome Kyle Beauregard, at least thirty-years old, had a strong cleft, piercing hazel eyes, and brown sleek hair. Plenty of girls Veronica's age have swooned over him. Veronica felt like she could never stand a chance with him.
Kyle walked up to Veronica's desk and handed her two documents.
"The top one goes to the three main guys in there." Kyle motioned towards her father's office behind her. "And this one…I thought perhaps you'd be interested in solving."
"Solving?" Veronica asked.
"It's my understanding that you like to solve puzzles yourself?" Kyle asked.
Veronica adjusted her glasses. "How did you know?"
Kyle put a finger to his lips. "Careful, Miss Combeferre. Anything said in here is kept confidential!" He winked as he walked away, leaving Veronica's breath hitched.
Without wasting a minute, she stood up and walked over to the door behind her, and knocked on it before entering.
"This just came in from Cpt. Beauregard, sir." She handed the document to Col. Bratton.
"Thank you, Miss Combeferre. Let us know when you have the…" Bratton was about to say before Veronica came back with the ten papers she had just typed up. "…documents I asked for…"
Veronica smiled as she exited the office.
"Remarkable daughter, Combeferre. How do you do it?"
Combeferre smiled as he shrugged his shoulders. "Every time I come home to my wife, I ask myself the same question."
!
Meanwhile, Veronica looked closely at the note Kyle gave to her personally.
CTVNTLAOECTVRHLHWEEAUAE?
She wasn't sure what to make of it. She's studied different code-breaking methods since college so this should be a cinch to her.
About a minute later, she realized it was a Caesar's Box code. So she counted the characters including the "?". There were 24 characters, so she drew a little 6x4 box, wrote the letters from left to right starting at the top, and then looked at the letters again but this time, going vertically from top to bottom starting on the left. Writing the letters as she went along, this is what she came up with.
CARETOHAVELUNCHATTWELVE?
Veronica looked up at a smiling Kyle from across the room. She silently kicked herself. Why did she have to fall for his killer smile?
Then she remembered; like mother like daughter…
!
Eponine sat at her kitchen table playing Bridge with three of her close-knit friends: Mrs. Clara Lesgles, Mrs. Deena Lancefield, and Mrs. Mary Prouvaire.
"How is your husband doing, Mary?" Eponine asked about Jehan.
Mary sighed. "He spends most of his days either painting or writing."
Clara looked confused. "I thought he wanted to take up writing. You sounded sad just now."
"It's just…he prefers to isolate himself when he does so. He himself seems sad. He's improved over the past few years, but ever since war broke out in Europe…it's like he's gotten worse."
Eponine nodded. She knew exactly what Jean was going through: traumatic neurosis. She and Deena had first-hand experience of what it can do to someone, having awoken Combeferre from his night terrors in the months after the Titanic sinking.
"Does it give him pain to think about…well…your children…?" Deena struggled to find the right words.
Mary shrugged her shoulders. "Douglas and Thomas have both been very careful with what they send to my husband. They only send postcards of Waikiki Beach, Diamond Head, some of the more scenic spots of Hawaii, but never anything about their military posts."
Clara picked up her set of cards as she chipped in. "I wonder if they've stumbled across my daughter yet."
"Marilyn?" Eponine asked, referring to Clara's daughter. "Given that she's Head Nurse at the Navy Hospital, I certainly hope it would take a long time before they're acquainted!" she chuckled.
Mary couldn't help her smile. "Well she's got my darling little Judy to keep her company."
Deena smiled too, thinking about her own son. "Harry's been meaning to invite them all up to his estate up in the hills. He's very well established down there!"
Eponine held Deena's arm in comfort. "After writing that radio play which raised millions of dollars in war bonds, I would be shocked if he wasn't! I'm pretty sure he'd do well with a special citation from the Navy Department."
"Speaking of Navy…" Deena responded. "I have a sneaking suspicion that my neighbor's son may have taken a liking to your daughter, dear Eponine."
Eponine looked at Deena while she was shuffling the cards. "The Beauregard kid? Isn't he known throughout Washington as a playboy of sorts?"
Clara chimed in. "A common misconception. He never sleeps around with girls his age. Just because he's never been in a serious relationship doesn't mean that he's necessarily loose. He just…hasn't found the right one yet."
"And you believe my Veronica is the one for him?" Eponine asked Clara.
Clara rolled her eyes.
"But this kid is actually quite genuine. Sure, all of the girls around town practically swoon over him, but he doesn't really notice. I've actually seen the way he gets all shy like around your daughter. And let's face it, 'Ponine. She has your looks, so you've no argument there!" Deena commented.
"But I am her mother and she's very precious to me. Argument revived!" Eponine responded.
Deena shrugged her shoulders. "Just seems like a good match that's all. Wouldn't have brought it up if he wasn't right for her."
Eponine spent the rest of the Bridge game pondering that last sentence.
After all, Veronica is 27. She's old and smart enough to make her own choices…it's no different than when Alan, Patrick and James enlisted. Plus…maybe it's not so hard to believe that someone genuine and kind could take a liking to her daughter. It's already happened to her.
She decided she would ask her husband about it, and see what he thinks. Half of the time she still refers to Frank as her husband because she just loves to hear the words come out of her own mouth.
!
By the end of the day, Bratton, Kramer and Combeferre had left their office to let their aides close up.
Combeferre caught a glimpse of his daughter and Kyle silently waving each other goodnight.
When the two of them were waiting at the curb for Eponine to pick them up, Combeferre decided now was a good time as any to ask her.
"I noticed that you went to lunch with that Beauregard kid?" He approached.
"Oh…yeah. It was kind of silly. He had a subtle way of asking. Dad, did you tell him I like to solve puzzles?" she asked him.
Combeferre shrugged his shoulders. "What can I say? He asked me what your hobbies were, and I mentioned that you like to solve puzzles."
"You two were talking about me?" She asked, concerned.
"Oh nothing but good things, sweetie. Not to worry."
"Well, I would've preferred if you asked me first if it was okay to talk about my personal life with him."
"Oh…I'm sorry dear. I didn't think you wouldn't be alright with that. I just believed it was just a good conversation with the young man."
"I understand…I mean, he meant well. Dad? Do you…think…he's taken a liking to me?" Veronica asked.
Frank's heart dropped. This was a moment he was fearing since the day his wife (he loved saying that word just as much.) gave birth to the twins.
Granted, she was very well behaved in her teenage years. She was nothing like her parents when they were her age thank you very much (That's how she was brought onto this Earth in the first place!)!
But now at long last, his first daughter was asking her questions about a boy. Was he the right person to ask though? He wasn't sure.
"Veronica, pumpkin…I think this may be something you would need to ask your Mother. She can sense these things better than I can. The only way I could be of help to you is if I have a simple conversation with the boy again, and try in a subtle way to get from him his feelings towards you."
Veronica looked at her father. "You know what? I'll ask Mom."
Combeferre chuckled as he put his arm around her shoulder, just in time for Eponine's car to pull up to the curb.
!
After having dinner (Eponine makes the best Chicken with Mashed Potatoes by the way!), Eponine found Combeferre sitting on the edge of the bed, lost in thought.
"Haven't seen you with this look in years. It doesn't suit you, you know."
Combeferre shrugged his shoulders. "Has Veronica talked to you while you two were setting the table?"
"She did mention something about this Beauregard boy. I think she likes him."
"Oh…that's good I suppose. I think he likes her too."
"That's what Deena suspected." Eponine said, as she was walking into her closet to change into her nightgown.
Combeferre got up to his dresser and mirror, and began loosening his tie. "Dear?" He called out to her.
"Mhmm?" he heard from behind the door.
"Are we good parents?" He asked.
Eponine stopped what she was doing and peeked around her door. "You can't be serious!"
"I mean…our eldest daughter is 27 now. And we're both very protective of her. Shouldn't we be letting her make her own choices, instead of debating on whether or not to play matchmaker?"
Eponine emerged in her nightgown and crossed her arms as she stared at Franklin. "You're right on one count: She is our eldest daughter. And also the most forethought one. She knows what she is doing. I think it's time for us to just retire our bodyguard outfits on her. She's a grown woman. If she wants to find out if this man really likes her, it's time for us to just let her find out for herself."
Combeferre sighed as he plopped back down on the bed.
"I only held her in my arms for the first time yesterday…" He muttered.
Eponine gave a sympathetic laugh as she laid down on the bed next to him. "I know. These past 29 years went by so fast. But you know what? I wouldn't trade them for the world."
He looked at her and smiled. "Neither would I." And then the two of them kissed.