Author's Note: What I meant by dry run was a test for them. They were being tested on what they've learned. They...okay, well, you'll see in this chapter. The story began in August 1944. It is now early 1945.

Vathei: The names go along with the time. I would hate being called sweetheart, but it's the forties. They were crazy back then ;)

Aphi: Don't worry, lots more to read. And the real drama starts just about this chapter....

I went to report for my morning duties in the control room. Another man, Johnny, looked nervous. "What's wrong?" I asked, biting my lip and trying to catch a peek at the messages that had come through overnight.

"It's just…I wrote my girl, Sandy…I broke up with her."

I looked at him strangely. Just the day before he was talking about how he wanted to marry this girl…wait, her name wasn't Sandy yesterday. "I thought your girl was named Jenny?"

"She is. Sandy never knew about Jenny. That's why I broke it off with her. I had to decide which girl I wanted," he started as we took our seats at the control. "I'm thinking I should have picked Sandy."

"Why?" I asked.

"Because she…she just is better for me. Jenny is wild and fun and crazy. Sandy is more reliable and loyal. She doesn't go out dancing and never wears too much lip stick."

I smiled, thinking of my Mia. She only made herself up on special occasions. Her grandmother used to make her dress for everything. I could imagine her sitting in her pajamas on my bed reading one of her novels. Maybe she'll have curlers in her hair.

"Are you okay?" Johnny asked with a slight laugh.

"Tired," I replied. That wasn't a lie. They'd been pushing us hard. They needed the new recruits out as soon as possible. I was doing way more work than I would have ever imagined back in school.

"You got a girl back home too, right?" he asked, picking up a message.

"Yeah. Mia. We got married back in December. On Christmas."

"Congratulations-"

Sirens went off. We stared at each other. "Oh shit…" I said jumping up.

We ran into the engine room to help prep the engine's for battle. I knew this wasn't a real battle, but Johnny didn't. He looked terrified. "Why the hell are you so damn calm?" he screamed.

I saw Kevin running toward me. He was waving his arms around. "What?" I asked. He needed to relax. This was just a test for us. Like a final exam.

I looked at the machine in front of me, which was making a weird noise. I saw a bolt loose so I reached for it. That was the last thing I remember from that day, March 21, 1945.

MIA

"I'm sending some chocolates to him," I said tying the ribbon on the package. I was so happy I was finally able to write to him.

"You know that is his weakness," Lilly replied, reading her latest YM. "Well, that and you of course. I can hardly believe it's only been a month and a half. It seems like forever, doesn't it?"

I looked at the picture that had been sent the week before. He was as handsome as ever. And his smirk was priceless. It made me miss him even more. I held his picture to my belly, "This is your daddy," I said softly to my stomach.

"You are nuts," Lilly said with a laugh.

I smiled, "He will be so surprised, won't he?"

She nodded, "He'll be happy. A bit mad that you haven't told him. But mostly happy."

I bit my lip, "You think it's smart that I'm not telling him while he's over there, right?"

"Yes. I know my brother. He'll totally freak out and be all distracted. He needs to focus."

I nodded in agreement. "It's just too bad we did not get to celebrate Valentine's Day together."

She snorted, "You Genovians have really weird traditions."

I gave her a confused look. "Huh?"

"I mean, you have some of our traditions-"

"Celebrating with the one you love is not an American tradition," I cut in, "Genovians are known world wide for their amorous interactions."

She laughed, "You are such a weirdo, Mia. Want some juice?" she asked, getting off the bed and walking into the hall.

"Yes, thank you," I replied, staring at my hands.

I looked at my wedding band and thought about Michael wearing his God knows where. I wondered if he'd told anyone there about me. He did like to keep things private…he probably never told anyone about me. Keeping me a secret.

I looked at the mailbox every afternoon. Nothing from Michael. The mail man almost looked like he pitied me. "I'm sure he'll write soon, Mia," he promised late in February. We'd gotten to talking one day and he knew my story fairly well now.

"I know…"

"My own son is over there. Hardly has a moment to himself. They are very busy young men these days."

I nodded, trying to hold a brave face. "Right. I better go back inside before I catch a cold. Have a nice afternoon, Mr. Robitussin."

"You too Miss Mia."

That night I was looking over my geometry homework. I was going to stop going to the school soon because I was going to start showing any day now. But this was my last week. Mrs. Moscovitz thought it would be best for us to bite the bullet (or something like that). Everything was quiet in the apartment. Lilly was studying her geography on my floor (I was now sleeping in Michael's bedroom. I have made it more feminine though by adding some photos of film stars that Lilly has taught me about).

Dr. and Mrs. Moscovitz were in the den listening to the news. He was reading the paper and she was knitting a scarf or something for me to wear. A knock came to the front door. Lilly looked at me. "Are you expecting Randa?"

I shook my head. "No. She was going to see her grandmother tonight. Was Tina coming over? Or Laura?"

She shook her head. "They'd ring before."

We jumped up and poked our heads out the door to see Dr. Moscovitz closing the front door and looking upset. I slowly left my room with a foreboding feeling in my belly. "Dr-"

"Girls, go sit in the kitchen," he said sternly to Lilly and I.

We hustled into the kitchen. "He has to be okay. They haven't even seen combat yet, right? You haven't heard about his ship have you?" I asked her. Then I remembered that neither of us had listened to the radio since he'd left. We were both too nervous.

She shook her head. "No, they were just leaving port. I was talking to someone in the offices the other day." Lilly worked as a page in the mayor's office in City Hall. She sometimes checked Michael's status by visiting with some people in the war office.

Dr. Moscovitz sat down with us. Mrs. Moscovitz was standing behind him, trying to stay calm. "Michael's ship was attacked about a week ago. Survivors of the attack are spread throughout the European-"

"He was supposed to be going to the Pacific," I said. "It's the wrong ship," I said laughing hysterically. "They messed-"

"But the ship that came to help was going to Europe," Dr. Moscovitz replied calmly. I hated psychoanalysts. They were too calm. "They do believe he was saved, but are awaiting confirmation."

Lilly took my hand. "Were there many….many survivors?" she asked with a quivering lower lip.

Dr. Moscovitz slammed the telegram down on the table and stormed out of the room. Mrs. Moscovitz took over, "I'm sure he's fine," she said hopefully.

"He will write to us, right?" I asked, biting my nails.

She nodded, "Of course he will. Why wouldn't he? He will write to let us know he is fine. We'll just wait and see."