Waterbound

by JoviRose

With the shadow of the Titanic tragedy hanging over their heads, the survivors strive together to rebuild their lives. This is the sequel to When We Meet on that Distant Shore, covering the following 50 years from 1920 to 1969.

21. 1940

Winter

Tommy sat on his bed, his feet up and a book on his lap. In theory he was reading but in actuality, his thoughts kept drifting from the page to June. He knew that she had come over several times to speak with his mother but he always kept out of sight as much as possible. He knew that if he saw her, he would have to make a decision and that was something he wished to put off for as long as possible.

As though summoning her with his thoughts, there was a soft knock on the door. Tommy looked up to see June in the doorway. Seeing the way her dress hung over her stomach, his last lingering hope that she had been faking the pregnancy died within him.

"Can we talk?" She asked.

He nodded.

June stepped into the room, looking uncertain. First she took a seat on Henry's bed before moving over to sit beside Tommy.

He ran his finger over the pages of his book as he tried to think of something to say. "You look nice," he managed at last.

She smiled. "I'm not sure how, as I've been sick all morning. And I couldn't sleep last night or the night before. I don't believe I've ever been so uncomfortable in all my life. Honestly, it makes you wonder how anyone would willingly choose to have a baby."

"June. What do you want?"

She reached over and lightly touched his hand with her fingertips before thinking better of it and pulling her hand back. "I don't want to marry either," she said. "I don't feel ready to be a wife and a mother and, goodness, it's all so much." She touched her stomach. "But this happened and the only way I'm allowed to keep him is if I'm married. Otherwise, my parents have been very clear that it's the Florence Crittenton House and they'll take my baby away."

"Is that so bad?"

"I have thought about it, you know. And sometimes I think it'd be the easiest way. Just a few more months and then this is all over." She shook her head. "But then I think about it some more and I don't know if I could live the rest of my life knowing I had a child out there somewhere, possibly unloved and unhappy."

"It might be very happy."

"Maybe." June hastily wiped away a few unshed tears and smiled. "I know it's unfair to force you into anything. I can't do that."

"June, you're not—"

"I do like you, Tommy, and most of the time I think you're very sweet. And…and I think we can be friends at the very least. We should be friends."

He looked at the book in his hands and he tried to imagine the unseen baby who was still more abstract than real to him. He tried to picture it as a toddler, a child…his child. He thought of Hugh and that man's insistence that he wasn't his son, wasn't worth loving. June was right. There was no way of knowing the sort of life it might live, potentially raised by another Hugh.

"Alright," he said quietly.

"Alright?"

He took a deep breath. "I think we should…marry." Even as the words left his mouth, he couldn't believe he was hearing them.

"Tommy."

He shrugged. "I mean, we did this…I did this and the…the consequences like you said. You're right. I think we can be friends so maybe it won't be so bad."

"Are you sure?"

"No, not at all." It still seemed so unreal that he could hardly believe it. Married? The very idea had never crossed his mind before he met June. "My mother's going to be happy…well, less unhappy, I mean."

"Mine won't," June replied. "I think she was hoping you'd refuse to marry me so I wouldn't keep it. She really doesn't like you, you know."

"Hearing that just makes me want to marry you even more."

She laughed and then her expression grew serious. "Could you…" She hesitated.

"Could I what?"

"Could you ask me? The right way, I mean. I had always dreamt about being asked one day and now it's not…" Her voice faltered and she fell silent.

Tommy took her hand in his own. He tried to imagine what it might have been like if the circumstances had been different, if he had been in love. "June, will you marry me?"

June smiled softly. "I will."

Silence fell over the room once more. Prior to the 'incident,' he had never felt uncomfortable around women. He had never been at a loss for words. But now, it was as though June was an entirely different species. And he wondered if that was how Arthur felt all the time.

"Oh." June placed a hand on her stomach, her face lit up with a smile. "Here, feel."

Tommy hesitated.

"You can touch me," she assured him. "It's not like you'll get me pregnant a second time."

He tentatively placed his hand on her stomach. For a moment, he only felt foolish then beneath his palm came a flutter. "Shit." He yanked his hand back and looked at her. "Does it do that all the time?"

June laughed. "Not all the time but he does like to move around quite a bit."

"Does it hurt?"

"Not usually, but it is the strangest feeling."

Tommy returned his hand to her stomach. "So you're really pregnant then?"

"I really am."

---

Kate had taken Cal's advice, stepping back to let Tommy make the decision himself. For months he had been adamantly against the very idea of marrying. But then June paid him a visit and he changed his mind. Kate couldn't help but wonder how the young woman had managed to convince him. It seemed nothing short of witchcraft.

Tommy and June were married on the front porch by a justice of the peace with everyone gathered around. The only people in attendance were their own family and a few of June's friends. Despite agreeing to the wedding, her parents refused to attend. If it bothered her, she didn't let it show on her face as she stood proudly in a blue dress, a small bouquet of black hellebore clutched in her hands.

"Why'd ye have to get black flowers?" Kate whispered to Cal while the ceremony was underway.

"They're purple."

"They look black to me."

"A very dark purple then," he replied. "You sent me to find flowers in February. There weren't a lot of options."

"I suppose it's better than nothin','' Kate said. She genuinely liked June and, despite their current circumstances, thought she was a good match for her son. There was a calming presence to the young woman that she hoped might rub off on Tommy. But she also wished that their relationship had developed differently. How much better would it have been if they had seen each other over a few years, gradually falling in love? How much better would it have been if Daniel had been there, watching his only son marry? She felt a sudden brush of cold against her neck and turned her head around but there was nothing there.

"You alright?" Cal asked.

"I'm fine," Kate replied. "I was just thinkin' of Daniel. How much he would've loved to be here. Are we doin' right?"

He was silent for a moment before replying. "In the end, it was their choice."

"It was hardly a fair choice."

"I think we both know how unfair life can be."

After the short ceremony, she made an immediate beeline for Tommy. She wanted to hug him but, knowing how much he disliked her hugs—particularly the ones that came out of nowhere—she held back. "Ye'll be happy to know that Henry's willin' to move in with Arthur if June wants to move in with us," she said.

"Poor Henry," Tommy replied with a laugh. "That kid's always getting moved from one place to another."

"He'll stop bein' moved about the moment ye have yer own place. I expect June livin' with us will only be for a short time."

"We've actually talked about it already," he said. "She's going to keep staying with her parents for now. Just until I save up a bit for a house."

"Ye want to live apart?" Kate couldn't even begin to imagine wanting to live apart from her spouse. She looked around for June and found her surrounded by her friends.

"It's probably temporary."

"Does this mean ye'll be getting' yerself a job then?"

"I'm going to start looking."

"I thought ye've been lookin'?"

"I'm going to start looking harder," Tommy clarified.

"Tommy, ye have responsibilities now," Kate said.

"I know," he replied, his voice filled with sincere conviction. "I'm going to figure it all out. I promise."

"He'll figure it out," Cal agreed, coming up beside them. He clapped Tommy on the back. "I have complete faith and trust. Here." He held out an envelope.

Tommy took it and looked inside. "What's this for?"

"It's a wedding present from your mother and I. There's enough in there for a night at a nice hotel."

"Do I have to?"

"Yes, ye have to," Kate said. "Yer not spendin' yer weddin' night apart. It'd be bad luck." As much as she didn't want to think of her son as having any sort of wedding night ever, she knew the couple needed as good of a start to their married life as possible.

"Alright, fine," Tommy replied. "Thank you. I'm going to go tell her."

After he had gone, Kate looked at Cal.

"They're fine," he said before she had a chance to speak. "Everything's fine. It'll be alright." He pulled her into a hug.

She hoped he was right.

---

After the ceremony, Kate pulled out a platter of roast beef sandwiches and a cake that she had made the night before. Everyone gathered into groups as they ate, all behaving as though it was a typical wedding and not one hurriedly put together at the last possible moment.

Arthur sat to the side, his sketchbook on his lap. He was attempting to draw June as she sat on the other side of the room ensconced on a sofa and sandwiched between Tommy and one of her friends. He usually didn't draw people and, as he struggled to capture her likeness, he suddenly remembered why. He could manage a shape that looked vaguely human and possibly feminine but he couldn't quite figure out how to capture the perfect way she lifted her chin when she spoke or how every emotion to cross her face was first written in her blue eyes. A horse was never as expressive.

"What're you drawing?" Evy threw herself onto the seat beside him.

Arthur immediately slammed the sketchbook shut. "It's nothing."

"It's not nothing." She tried to tug it from his hands.

He quickly pulled it out of her reach. "Stop that."

"I want to see."

"You can see later."

"I don't want to see later. I want to see now."

"How about you go get us some cake?"

Evy paused as she considered it. "Fine. But then I get to see."

"Fine." He watched her leave, wondering if he had been too harsh.

"Arthur!" Tommy called to him from across the room. "Come here."

Arthur approached them slowly.

"I want you to meet someone." Tommy gestured to the woman sitting on June's opposite side. "This is…uh…"

"Doris," June supplied. "She's one of my oldest friends." She smiled. "We thought the two of you might hit it off."

Arthur looked at the young woman. "Hi, I guess. This is…" He was suddenly too aware of everyone watching him. "It's nice out. Today, I mean."

Doris looked at June and clearly mouthed: 'Him?'

June shrugged.

"He has a lot of money, you know," Tommy blurted out.

"I don't have money," Arthur replied. "My father has money."

"Same thing. Alright." Tommy stood and pulled June to her feet. "I suppose you should meet my cousins. Let's leave these two alone."

"Your name's Walter?" Doris asked the moment they were alone. She gently patted the newly vacant seat.

"Arthur," he corrected as he sat beside her.

"I haven't seen you around much. You're not from here, are you?"

"I'm from Philadelphia," he replied. "That's where my mother and brother live."

"But your father lives here?"

"They're divorced." He couldn't help but notice that she suddenly seemed much more interested and wondered how much it had to do with Tommy's comment.

"Oh, that's unfortunate."

"I think they're both happier for it."

Doris suddenly snatched the sketchbook from his arms. "What's this?"

"It's…it's nothing." Arthur could feel his face grow warm. "Just some…I like to sketch a bit."

She opened it. "This is incredible," she said as she flipped through the pages.

"They're really not." He said a silent prayer of thanks that the attempted sketch of June looked nothing like her.

"No, they're amazing. You have so much talent."

Arthur stared at her, trying to discern whether she was being sincere.

"Could you do a sketch for me sometime?

"I don't sketch people."

"It doesn't need to be of me," Doris replied. "I would just like to have a hand-drawn drawing." She lightly touched his arm, sending a flutter through his stomach. "In case you become famous someday."

"I…um…sure, I can…I can do that," he stammered a response. "I can draw something."

"And maybe you could take me to the movies sometime?"

Unable to find his voice, Arthur could only nod.

She squeezed his arm . "Wonderful."

---

"Mr. and Mrs. Edward Harris request the honor of your presence at the marriage ceremony of their daughter Dorothy Anne to Mr. James Barrett on Sunday afternoon, March twenty-third, the year nineteen hundred forty-one at three o'clock."

John stared at the invitation in his hands, unable to believe what he was seeing. As the words sank in, there was a sudden rushing in his ears; he could hardly breathe. She hadn't even bothered to tell him that she had made her choice.

Finding Dottie sitting outside her home, he thrust the invitation in her face.

"What is…" Her brows furrowed as she read it. "Is this a joke?"

"I hope so. You sent it to me."

"I did not." She read it again and sighed. "My mother must've sent them out."

"So I guess your choice is made then," John said, wincing slightly at the bitterness in his own voice.

"No, it's—I'll talk to her and tell her that I don't want to marry Jimmy. And I'll tell Jimmy and I'll send out un-invitations and…" Her voice faltered.

"What's so wrong with me?"

"Nothing." Dottie took his hands. "There's nothing wrong with you."

"There must be because if you loved me, none of this would matter. You wouldn't be choosing your family over—"

"John," she gently cut him off. "You want to talk to me about choosing family? Don't take any of this the wrong way but you're nearly thirty and you still live at home. I know that most of what you earn goes to your family. If you were given a choice between me and them, you'd choose them every single time and I don't fault you for it."

"That's different."

"How?"

"They need me." He thought of the years when Pat had been gone, when his income was the only thing keeping food on their table. He had had no choice.

Dottie sighed. "You know how much I care about you, but I'm having a very difficult time trying to convince my parents that you'd be able to support a wife while you're so busy supporting your family."

"I can do both." John thought he sounded more certain than he felt. He knew his position with the WPA was going to end soon and he didn't know what he would do when that happened. He didn't know how his family would get by if both he and his father were out of work.

"You know what I think?"

"What?"

"I think you're afraid to be on your own."

"I've been on my own before," he replied. "When I was in Idaho."

"Your father was there and when he left, you made it less than a year before you came home too…with Helen following you, if I remember correctly."

"That's not—"

"John, I'm not going to marry Jimmy because you're right. I do love you. I love you even though you do really dumb things and I swear sometimes you can be more oblivious than a rock. I love you so much that it's often all I can think about. But you need to get it together because I'm not going to give up my family. Not even for you. Now, you better leave before my mother sees you here."

"She's never minded me being here."

"No, but that was before. Now, she doesn't want you anywhere near me because she's afraid we're going to run off together."

"Maybe we should."

"Don't be ridiculous. Now go on."

"I'm going." John looked around for her mother and, seeing no one, stole a quick kiss. He still didn't understand how Dottie could be so reluctant but the feeling of relief that she wasn't going to marry Jimmy after all, overwhelmed all other concerns. She loved him and that meant hope.

Spring

Tommy was surprised at how easy it was to find a job once he made a genuine effort. It seemed as though every place was hiring. Unfortunately, he quickly learned that the only job he was qualified for was at a factory. He hated every moment of it: the tedious work, the noisy and dark building. But the absolute worst part was that it didn't pay nearly as much as he knew he was worth.

"Welcome to the working world," Cal said, the first time he complained about it.

"How would you know what the working world is like?" Tommy asked. "You don't work."

"Well, work your way up to proprietorship and then you won't have to work either."

"Didn't your father give you those factories?"

"I inherited them," Cal replied. "My father never gave anyone anything in his life."

After a few paychecks, Tommy thought he had enough to rent a small house. He did his research and managed to find one that seemed fine. It only had four rooms and there wasn't much yard but it was close to home and within his budget. But when he brought June (and her mother) to take a look, she thought it looked sad and dark. After a cockroach scuttled across her foot, her reluctance turned into an adamant and loud no.

"No, no. This is terrible," her mother had said. "I think it'd be better if you save up for a house, ideally one with a large yard so there's plenty of room for flowers. And a spare bedroom for guests. That's very important."

Tommy was fairly certain that the only 'guest' they would be hosting would be her. "Fine, we'll just keep things how they are." He wasn't in a particular hurry to start their 'married life' together. The very thought of being responsible for a house and a family, entirely on his own, was terrifying.

In the meantime, he paid June a visit a couple of times a week but, aside from their wedding night, anything romantic between them had ceased entirely. After what had happened, he felt uncomfortable about the idea of romance and she—experiencing her own discomfort from the pregnancy—didn't seem much interested. To make things worse, her mother made it abundantly clear that he was unwelcome, hardly leaving them alone for more than a few minutes at a time. It was slightly better when June came to his place even if she did spend the majority of her time discussing childbirth with his mother who had went into far too much (graphic) detail describing exactly what to expect.

June had the baby at Sacred Heart. Until that moment, Tommy hadn't even realized that people could have babies at the hospital as his siblings had all been born at home. He was more surprised to learn that she wasn't allowed to leave for at least a week. He tried to stop by every day after his shift if only for a few minutes—the visiting hours were usually nearly up by the time he was free from work. Her mother was always there, fussing over the baby, refusing to let him near.

Finally, he managed to leave work a few hours early and caught June alone.

"Don't get too excited," she said at once. "Mama's in the cafeteria getting coffee."

"Of course she is." Tommy looked at the tiny baby in her arms. "Am I allowed to hold my own daughter?" He took a seat beside her on the bed.

"I don't see why not." June set the baby in his arms.

He had held Bridget and Evy when they were babies but knowing that the child in his arms was his own, made it an entirely different experience. It felt unreal, absurd. How could he have a child?

"Mama wants to name her Delores, after her great-aunt."

"I'm not naming my daughter Delores," Tommy replied. "And your mother shouldn't get a say in it."

"She also likes Pauline."

"Again, I'm not naming my daughter anything your mother likes." He gently touched the baby's miniscule fingers. "Loretta?"

June made a face. "She doesn't look like a Loretta."

"She doesn't look like a Delores either. What about Alice?"

"Alice," June repeated the name. "I could do Alice."

Alice let out a sudden cry, startling herself in the process.

"How in the world am I supposed to keep her alive?" June asked. "She seems so fragile."

"It's actually not that difficult," Tommy replied. "Babies are tougher than they look."

She looked at him in surprise.

"I have a lot of siblings. I've helped out quite a bit," he explained. "It'll be alright. If Henry and Bridget could survive Hugh, Alice can survive us." For once he felt sure.

"Hugh?"

"My stepfather," he said. The realization of just how little they knew about each other suddenly struck him. "My mother married him before Cal. He…wasn't great."

"I see. Was he—"

"I don't want to talk about him, if you don't mind."

"Okay." June lightly touched Alice's cheek. "When do they start talking?"

"Not for a while. They have to crawl first."

"Oh."

Her mother chose that moment to return. The woman stood in the doorway, a cup of coffee in her hands, and glared at him. "That's not the correct way to hold an infant," she said at once. "You're going to hurt her."

"I know how to hold a baby."

"Here." June took the child from his arms. "We named her Alice."

"Alice? That's a God-awful name," her mother said. "I thought we decided on Delores."

"My daughter's name is Alice," Tommy said firmly. "I think I should go." He leaned over and kissed June on the cheek. "I'll stop by tomorrow."

"Stop by at home," she replied. "I get to leave in the morning."

"It'd be best if you don't," her mother said. "June will likely be too tired and—"

Tommy walked out before she could finish speaking. He didn't think that being married to June would be such a bad thing if it wasn't for her mother.

---

Cal was concerned that Arthur had started seeing the young woman he met at Tommy's wedding, not only because he believed his son would happily take out a mop if the mop had been kind to him. But also because Arthur had started coming to him several times a week, asking for money. Cal didn't mind giving his son what he asked—Tommy had 'borrowed' money more than a handful of times—but the amount he was spending on Doris was alarming.

Cal was reading a book when they both came barging into the house. It seemed a waiter had spilled a drink on Arthur and he wished to change his shirt before their movie, leaving a slightly tipsy Doris to wait for him in the living room.

She hummed to herself as she took a seat in the armchair. She traced a finger along the silver bracelet adorning her wrist.

Cal watched her for a moment before speaking up. "Did Arthur buy you that?"

Doris smiled. "He did. Isn't it beautiful?" She held her arm out toward him.

"It is," he replied. "And very expensive, I imagine."

She shrugged. "Arthur said the price didn't matter as much as making me smile."

"I see." A feeling of misgiving settled in the pit of his stomach. "Where did he take you for dinner?"

"The Apple Bower."

"At the Davenport? That's a fine restaurant."

"I've always loved the food there."

"You've been there before?"

Doris' smile grew wider. "It's my favorite. Arthur takes me at least once a week."

"It's incredibly expensive."

"I wouldn't know anything about that."

"Wouldn't you?"

"No, why would I?" Her smile had vanished and she folded her arms across her chest. "Why are you asking me so many questions?"

"I'm just trying to get to know the woman pursuing my son," Cal replied. "And make certain that she's pursuing my son and not my money."

"Are you insinuating I'm some sort of gold digger? How dare you?"

"I am only calling it as I see it."

Doris huffed. "Well, it doesn't matter what you think anyway. Arthur loves me."

"I'm sure he thinks he does." He moved closer to her. "But if you think for one moment that I wouldn't be willing to cut my son off, you're sorely mistaken."

"You're bluffing."

"Try me."

Arthur came back into the room, a smile on his face. "That's better. I'm glad we decided on the later showing, otherwise we—what?

"I'm sorry but I don't think I'm feeling much like a movie anymore," Doris said. She rose from her seat and brushed the wrinkles from her dress.

"But we already have the tickets."

"I don't know what to tell you. I don't want to go anymore."

"But we were—"

"For God's sake, if you want to go so badly, take your father?" She snapped.

"Doris—" Arthur reached for her hand but she yanked it free from his grasp and stormed out, leaving him standing there looking confused. He immediately turned on Cal. "What did you do?"

Whatever Cal had been expecting, it wasn't that. "I only asked her a few questions."

"What questions? You shouldn't be asking any questions."

"Arthur, you've been spending a great deal of time and money on her and I wished to know her a tiny bit better."

"I haven't been spending that much money."

"No? You haven't been taking her to the Apple Bower several times a week? You haven't bought her a bracelet that's easily several hundred dollars?"

"That's not…that's different."

"Is it? Why don't you take her to the park for a change or to a diner. Wilson's is nice."

"Doris doesn't like diners," Arthur replied. "She only likes nice places and nice things."

"You would think she likes you more than either of those." Cal immediately regretted the words at the look on Arthur's face.

"Well, if she did like me, she doesn't anymore, thanks to you," he snapped.

"Arthur. Watch your tone."

"Why did you have to interrogate her anyway?"

"I just wanted to be sure she's right for you."

"Right for me? That's not for you to decide."

"I'm your father. That makes it my—" Cal stopped abruptly. All his life he had sworn he would never turn into his own father, that he would never try to control his sons the way his father had tried to control him.

"I might as well have stayed in Philadelphia because you're no different than mom," Arthur said. "I know you like to pretend as though you're better than her, but you're not. Not really." He stormed out of the house.

Cal stared at the door, guilt and anger fighting for control over him. He knew he was right about Doris. He could recognize a gold digger from miles away. He married one, after all. But, more than that, he knew he had gone about it the wrong way entirely. That sort of directness might've worked for someone like Victor but it could only hurt Arthur. It had hurt Arthur. In a sudden fit of frustration, he threw his book across the room. It hit the opposite wall with a loud THWACK, landing on the floor with its pages crumpled beneath its cover.

It was only afterward that he noticed Henry watching him, a look of terror on his face. The child immediately turned and bolted inside a closet, slamming the door shut behind him.

"Shit," he muttered. He knew what Kate would've said if she had seen him lose his temper in such a way and in front of one of their children. Cal gently knocked on the closet door. "Henry? Why don't you come on out so we can talk?"

"No." Henry's response was muffled.

Cal reached for the doorknob but stopped himself. He didn't want to frighten him any further. He lowered his hand. "Henry," he began again, doing his best to keep his voice level, calm. "I'm sorry I lost my temper. I shouldn't have done that. It was wrong of me. You know that I would never do anything to hurt you. Or your siblings or your mother. I promise that will never happen again." It felt like such a feeble apology and he wondered how often Hugh had made the same one. "I'm going to open the door now." He slowly turned the knob and stepped back.

Henry huddled in the corner of the closet, his knees drawn up and looking much younger than his fifteen years. "Are you angry now?" He asked.

"I'm not angry. Come on out."

Slowly and cautiously, Henry exited the closet, still looking uncertain.

"There you go. How about I teach you how to drive the car this weekend?"

"Really?"

"Really. We will have to ask your mother first but you're nearly old enough so I think it's time." Cal picked the book up and smoothed down the crumpled pages.

"Were you angry at Arthur?" Henry asked quietly.

"No, I was angry at myself."

---

Sarah sat on the porch swing, gently moving back and forth, her eyes closed against the breeze, as she listened to birds flitting through the trees.

"Wake up and look what I have."

She opened her eyes to see Kate approaching, a tiny baby in her arms. "Does her parents know you kidnapped her?"

Kate laughed as she sat beside her. "June knows. She brought her over and now she's enjoyin' a well-earned break. Isn't she just the most perfect baby ye've ever laid yer eyes on?"

"No, that was Eileen but I'll admit she comes close." Sarah made a face, causing the baby to smile.

"I was goin' to bring her over the last time June visited but her mother came along. That woman wouldn't even let me hold her. Can ye believe it?" Kate shook her head. "She said that after Tommy, I clearly knew nothin' about raisin' a child."

The very idea of Kate, of all people, not knowing how to raise a child was so preposterous that Sarah almost laughed. "What an awful woman. It sort of makes you wonder how June ended up so sweet."

"I wanted to toss her out of me house but I couldn't have done it with her daughter standin' right there."

"Sure, you could have. It's your house."

"And then I never see me grandchild again." Kate sighed. "I'm fairly certain that their livin' apart is entirely that woman's idea. I think she's hopin' June will meet someone better and then they'll annul the marriage or something else to get her out of it."

"I thought she gave permission for the marriage?"

"June insisted on keepin' the baby and that was the only way to keep her from bringin' shame on the family. Here." She carefully passed the baby over to Sarah. "Now, this is all me own speculation, mind ye. I truly have no idea what's goin' on in that woman's head. All I really know is that I don't care for her and I wish I could keep me grandchild away from her."

Sarah looked down at the baby in her arms. It seemed like only yesterday she was holding Eileen. Time had gone by so quickly. "What did they name her? You haven't told me yet."

"Alice."

"That's a beautiful name," Sarah said. "How are they doing?"

"They're all still alive so I call that a success. I just…" Kate hesitated. "There's no love between them."

"That's hardly surprising considering how quickly they married."

"True, but I was still hopin' it'd grow." She sighed. "I suppose that's difficult to do when they only see each other a few times a week. When does Pat get home? I wanted to show him me granddaughter. Can ye believe it? I have a granddaughter. I hardly feel old enough for one." Kate lightly tapped the baby's nose.

"He won't be home for another two hours at least."

"Oh. I suppose I shouldn't keep her out that long."

Sarah smiled. "If you can keep June there for a few more hours, I'll send Pat over the moment he gets home."

Kate laughed. "That shouldn't be a problem. June already asked if she could stay until her mother comes lookin' for her."

---

Pat's position with the Works Progress Administration ended and he found himself unemployed once again. His first thought was to try the sawmill—he remembered liking the work well enough—but when he brought up the idea to Sarah, she was adamant in her refusal to let him work there, reminding him how every terrible moment in their lives began at the mill and who was to say that terrible things wouldn't happen once again.

"Hugh's dead and Harris doesn't manage it anymore," Pat said. "It's all new people working there."

"Patrick Murphy," Sarah spoke firmly. "I don't care where you work but you are never setting foot in that place again. Or the mine," she added after a moment. "You're not leaving Spokane again. You're not leaving me."

In the end, he managed to find work at a place called Brown Metal Works, a manufacturing plant that made cars—he assumed they made cars as he only ever saw the individual pieces. Whatever it was that they did, the work was repetitive and the building made him feel claustrophobic, despite its large windows. But the pay was better than the sawmill and the hours were more consistent than the mine. Most important of all, the work was easier. In his youth, he had enjoyed physically demanding work like at the sawmill, the mine, even building roads for the WPA but now that he was nearly fifty, he was grateful to have a job that didn't leave him exhausted and sore at the end of each day.

Pat was washing his hands in the kitchen sink after work one day when John came up to him.

"How's the new job?" John asked.

Pat shrugged. "Work is work."

"But it pays money?"

"That's usually how a job works, unless yer volunterrin'."

"Oh, right."

"Alright, what's goin' on now?"

John ran his hand under the running water. "If I were to leave, would you guys be alright?"

"Yer plannin' on leavin'?"

"No. I don't know…maybe." John shook his head. "I just want to know if you'll be okay without my income."

Pat switched off the water and grabbed a towel. "It'll be tough, I won't lie. But we'll get by," he replied. "It might actually be easier without ye eatin' everything in the pantry. Although it's more the taxes that seem to get us every year. This house isn't cheap. Why are ye askin'?" He had often thought about how much easier everything would be if they moved to a smaller home, but he knew better than to bring the subject up. Sarah would sooner starve than leave her first husband's home.

John hesitated. "Dottie says that I couldn't support a wife so long as I was still supporting everyone here. She says I'm too afraid to be on my own."

"Are ye?"

"I just…I don't…"

"John, sometimes ye need to take the leap," Pat said. "I'm not sayin' ye should move to the other side of the world and don't take off in the middle of the night. Yer mother doesn't care for that happenin'. But we'll be fine without ye livin' here and we'll be fine without yer paycheck. We might have to take fewer terrible campin' trips but that's a blessin' if I'm bein' honest."

"Maybe." John sighed. "It really doesn't matter anyway, I suppose. Her parents don't like me and she won't go against them."

"Well, to hell with her parents. Do ye truly think they're goin' to turn their backs on their only daughter? They might be angry for a bit but they'll come around."

"But she thinks—"

"If someone doesn't help me carry in these groceries, I'm leaving this family." Sarah's voice came from the other room.

"John's on his way," Pat called back.

John shot him a look as he left the room.

Pat tried to remember Dottie's parents but he wasn't sure if he had ever seen them before. He wondered if it would make things better or worse to speak with them. Probably worse, he thought as he returned the towel to its place. He hated feeling so helpless.

Summer

Fabrizio was awoken by a large crash of thunder and one of the children began to cry. Maria, he thought or maybe Beatrice. He felt the mattress move beneath him as Lelia climbed out of bed. He closed his eyes once again in an attempt to return to sleep.

"Fabri, come here," Lelia said softly from across the room.

He didn't move, hoping she would think he was still asleep, but he opened his eyes just enough to see that she was standing at the window, Beatrice in her arms.

"For God's sake, I know you're awake. Come here." Her voice was strangely insistent.

Fabrizio sighed and reluctantly got out of bed. "What?" He asked. "It's only a storm."

"It's not."

He looked out the window. Lightning briefly illuminated the harbor in the distance, followed by another rumble of thunder. Then a second crash, louder and the ground slightly trembled beneath them. Beatrice whimpered in her mother's arms. Fabrizio didn't understand why Lelia hadn't returned her to her bed yet. "It looks like storm to me. We have hundreds of storms every year."

"The harbor's on fire," she replied simply.

"Probably lightning strike." He looked once again and thought he could see a faint glow over the water but it was difficult to see through the rain pelting off the glass. He slid open the window and stuck his head out. There was an unmistakable smell of smoke in the air. Another flash of lightning, another peal of thunder. Was it even thunder?

"Are we safe?" Lelia asked.

"Yes, it's only storm." He didn't think it was only a storm but he didn't know precisely what it was and he didn't know what to do about it.

"Mama?" Caroline asked. Maria and Carlo stood beside her. The storm had woken all of them.

"Put them back to bed," Fabrizio said.

Lelia didn't move. "Fabri."

"Please."

She sighed and turned away.

He watched as she herded the children back to their beds. It had been so long since he had felt any love between the two of them. He knew the deterioration of their relationship was all his own fault. Occasionally, he wondered why she hadn't taken the children and left him yet.

Fabrizio stayed by the window, watching the harbor and feeling the rain hit his face. Now that he was listening carefully he thought he could make out the distant drone of planes overhead but it could've been his imagination. It was difficult to hear anything over the storm. It was difficult to differentiate between the thunder and the bombs—he assumed that was what it was.

"Why would they attack us?" Lelia asked. She had returned to his side.

"I don't know," he replied. "Maybe it just a fire." He tried to put his arm around her but she pulled away.

"I'm going back to bed," she said. "I know you'll tell me if they come closer. Although, I'm sure you'll say there's nothing to worry about as you always do."

"Lelia," Fabrizio looked at her. There was so much he wanted to say to her…so much he needed to say, but he couldn't find the words. "I love you," he managed at last.

She looked at him for a moment before responding. "Goodnight."

After she had gone, he returned his attention to the window. He brought a hand over his face and sighed. He wished he knew what to do.

---

John couldn't stop thinking about what his father had said. Dottie's parents would have to forgive her if they married. She may not want to give up her family but why would her family be so willing to give her up? He was convinced that she was only afraid of an idle threat and nothing more.

"Dottie!" He had waited for her to set foot outside of her house.

She was startled. "John, you can't be doing that," she said. "For one thing you're going to give me a heart attack. For another, if my mother sees you—"

"You need to listen to me," he cut her off. "I know that we both love each other, right?"

"John."

"Why are we letting other people tell us what to do with our lives? We're both adults, for goodness sake."

"What are you saying?" Dottie cast a nervous glance back toward her home.

"I want to marry you."

"John, I can't—"

"Do you love me?"

"John, stop."

"No, you have to answer me," John insisted. "Do you love me?"

She let out a sigh. "Of course, I love you. I've told you that already."

"Do you want to marry me?"

"Of course, I do, but my parents—"

"To hell with your parents." He took her hand. "They're going to come around because I know they won't want to lose you. Dottie, I think they're trying to frighten you into doing what they want."

"What are you saying?"

"I'm saying we should call their bluff," John said. "There's a place in Coeur d'Alene where you can marry immediately for $10 and you don't even need witnesses or anything."

Her mouth fell open. "You want to elope?"

"Is there any other way?"

She looked uncertain.

"We don't have to tell anyone and we certainly don't have to tell your parents until you're ready," John said. "Or until I win them over because I know I can do it. And when I do, think of how much money we'll be saving them by already being married. They'll be thrilled."

Dottie laughed. "You said Coeur d'Alene?"

"It's in Idaho."

"I know where Coeur d'Alene is. It's a long train ride. I'd have to think of a reason to be gone for an entire day."

"Two days. We should stay the night."

She stepped closer to him. "This is the dumbest idea I've ever heard and my parents are going to be furious when they find out."

"Buuut…"

"But...let's do it."

They met at the train station. John's excuse was to visit a few friends he had made when he worked at the mine. His father had looked at him with skepticism but his mother bought the lie in its entirety.

Dottie looked nervous in a pale yellow dress. "Hi," she said the moment she saw him.

"Hi," John replied. "You look nice."

"It's a new dress."

"I like it."

They spent the remainder of the train ride in a nervous silence. John questioned if they were doing the right thing and wondered if Dottie was doing the same.

The place he had discovered was a low wooden building wearing a sign that read 'The Hitching Post.' He was surprised at how easy it was to find and he was even more surprised to see a small line of couples snaking around the building. While they waited, John gathered up a handful of tiny blue forget-me-nots that grew along the wall. She may not have been wearing a wedding dress but she still deserved to hold flowers.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" He asked.

Dottie laughed. "It was your idea and I think it's a little too late to back out now."

Before he knew it, it was their turn. John felt strangely disembodied as they filled out the paperwork. The vows seemed like a make believe game. Exchanging rings—hers contained a tiny green sapphire as he couldn't afford a diamond—was only dressing up. It wasn't until they signed their names on the marriage certificate that he was struck with the seriousness of their decision. They had married and told no one.

They spent that night in a motel. They were both nervous and awkward and there was a great deal of laughter but John thought it all felt right. He couldn't imagine being with anyone other than her.

As they laid together in the morning, his arm tightly around Dottie, John's thoughts suddenly drifted to Jimmy. "Shit."

"What?" She lifted her head to look at him.

"I promised Jimmy that I wouldn't take you from him."

She turned his head toward her and kissed him. "You shouldn't have done that."

"I see that now." John lightly brushed his fingers along her cheek. "When are you going to tell him?"

"Tell him what?"

"About us. You can't exactly marry him now."

Dottie laid her head back down and sighed. "It'll have to be at the same time we tell my parents."

"Well, I hope it'll be before you and Jimmy marry," John said. "I'm not sharing you."

She laughed. "Hopefully, but no promises." She held up her hand to look at the ring on it. "I hate that I won't be able to wear this. At least not until we tell everyone."

John pressed a kiss to her head. "Just don't lose it. I'll never be able to afford a second one."

---

Cal wasn't surprised to see how quickly Doris had 'forgiven' Arthur. After a week of him moping around the house, he was back to borrowing money and taking her to expensive restaurants.

"I don't know what to do," he told Kate as they were in bed together. "My father always used to push me toward certain matches and drove away anyone who wasn't right. I don't want to do that to Arthur but she's not right for him."

"I think all ye can do is let him make his own choices," Kate replied. "Good or bad. I know that's likely not what ye want to hear."

"I learned long ago how to spot someone only searching for money. Dinah married me for my money. Well, it was my father's money at the time of the wedding but then he died and I inherited and she dropped all pretenses. I don't want that for Arthur." He sighed. "I should've just sold those damn factories and given it all away."

"Arthur has to learn on his own."

"I could cut him off." Cal didn't want to do such a thing to his son but he also knew that Doris would be gone in heartbeat if there was no more money.

"That sounds like a good way to drive him away."

"But I'd also drive her away."

"Cal."

"Either she takes every penny he has or she breaks his heart," he said. "I think she'll do both if given the chance."

Kate nestled against him. "I think ye might be overreactin' a wee bit."

"Am I?" He turned to look at her. "If Bridget or Evy started seeing a man who you knew would one day turn into Hugh, wouldn't you do everything possible to keep it from happening?"

She stiffened. "That's not the same. Dinah was never Hugh."

"It's close."

"It's not," she said sharply. "Dinah never struck ye so hard yer ears rang for days. She never threw a glass at yer face because ye didn't laugh at a joke quickly enough. She never put her hands around yer throat and squeezed until ye couldn't see. She never…she never forced herself on ye while ye lay there cryin' and…and…" Her voice broke and she began to cry.

"Kate." Cal wrapped his arms around her, holding her tightly. "I'm so, so sorry. I shouldn't have…of course, it's not the same. I'm so sorry for what he did to you."

Kate suddenly tried to push away from him. "Can ye..I don't want ye to touch me right now," she said. "I love ye so much but right now, I need ye not to touch me."

He quickly let go of her. "Kate, I didn't mean to—"

"It's fine. It's not yer fault. I just don't want to be touched right now. I know it makes no sense but I just…it's makin' me think of Hugh."

"Do you want me to sleep on the sofa?"

"No, ye don't need to do that. I want ye near me. Just not touchin','' Kate said. She took a deep breath. "I'm sorry."

"Here." Cal took an extra pillow and put it between them. "Do you remember the first time he hit you?"

"Yes." Her voice was cold. "It's a hard thing to forget."

"I should've rescued you right then and there," he replied. "Taken you home with me." He had thought of that moment so many times over the years. He saw the bruises, he knew Hugh was mistreating her, and he had still gone home when she told him to. He had left her there in a situation that had only grown worse.

"Ye would've had to kidnap me."

"I wish I had."

Kate smiled softly. "I can speak with Arthur, if ye like," she said. "I don't know if it'll do much good. If he's anything like Tommy, he'll be wantin' to do the opposite of what we say."

---

Kate had thought long and hard about what she was going to say to Arthur. She knew he was sensitive—much like Henry was—and it'd be easy for the conversation to go badly.

She found him in the kitchen. "Arthur." She took a seat beside him. "Ye've been spendin' a great deal of time with Doris lately."

He looked at her warily. "Did my father ask you to speak with me?"

"No, of course not," Kate quickly replied. "I only wished to know more about her. What's her family like?"

"I don't know."

"Ye don't know?"

Arthur shrugged. "We don't really talk about each other. Well, she's asked quite a bit about me and my family but she doesn't like talking about herself."

Kate sighed. It was quickly becoming apparent that Cal may have been right about the young woman. "Arthur…" She hesitated, choosing her next words carefully. "I was thinkin' that maybe it'd be best to slow down a bit."

"If I slow down, I lose her," he said. "I'm lucky enough that she came back after my father interrogated her like some sort of criminal. I don't know why he was speaking to her at all. I mean, if I wanted that sort of meddling, I would've stayed in Philadelphia."

"Yer father was only worried. He doesn't want to see yer heart broken."

"It's my heart to break."

Kate had a sudden flashback to a time she had said something so similar to her brother. He had tried to tell her who she should see and she had angrily fought back. That argument seemed so pointless, in hindsight. "It is your heart," she said kindly. "But ye should still be careful. Don't break it unnecessarily."

Arthur traced his finger along a grain in the wooden table and didn't respond.

"Some people may not have the best of intentions," she continued. "Ye should be cautious about that."

"What if I don't care?" His gaze snapped up. "I don't mind buying her things."

Kate sighed. "Ye settle for that and ye'll miss out on someone who genuinely loves ye. Don't give up on that." She put a hand on his arm. "Yer still very young."

"But Tommy is—"

"Tommy is not in any way a role model. I mean that kindly as I love me son," she said. "Ye shouldn't be listenin' to him and ye certainly shouldn't be behavin' like him."

Arthur ran a hand over his face. His shoulders slumped and he suddenly looked miserable. "How would I even know?"

Kate resisted the urge to hug him. "Ye'll know when it's right. Trust me."

"Did you marry father for his money?"

She blinked in surprise at the question. "I married yer father because he makes me feel safe, he makes me laugh. He treats me as though I matter. It had nothin' to do with money and if he lost everything, I would only love him all the more." As much as she loved her automatic washing machine, she loved Cal more.

Fall

The draft registration for their precinct was held at the high school. It felt strange to be back in the school and he grappled with a feeling of incompleteness knowing he would forever be one year away from graduating. The room was filled with young men, many he recognized from his school days. He spotted Jimmy and immediately turned his back on the young man. Dottie still hadn't told anyone about their elopement.

He picked up his blank card from a man behind a desk and brought it over to where a row of desk chairs had been set out along the wall. Tommy and Arthur were already filling out their own cards.

John slid into the empty seat beside them. He began to fill it out, name at the top, address…it took him a moment to remember his phone number.

"This is all such a waste of time," Tommy said. He had already filled out his card and tapped it anxiously on the desk.

"It's just our names and addresses," John replied. He wrote in his mother's name as the person likely to know his address.

"Cal says it's only a precaution," Tommy tried again. "We won't be going anywhere."

"I don't know." John signed his name at the bottom. "Some guys at work seem pretty certain we'll be at war within the year."

"God, I hope that's not true. I don't want to be in the army." Tommy sighed. "I don't want anyone telling me what to do."

"It's not like you listen to anyone, anyway."

Tommy punched his arm.

John punched him back. "I don't know," he said. "I don't think being in the army would be all that bad. I mean, at least you'd be doing something meaningful. It has to beat digging ditches all day."

"I don't want to go," Arthur spoke up suddenly. "I don't want to have people tell me what to do or shoot things or whatever they do in the army. I don't care if it's meaningful. I'd rather stay home."

John stared at him. Arthur had hardly spoken a word since they arrived and he was surprised to hear the emotion in his voice.

"How's Doris?" Tommy asked, changing the subject.

Arthur shrugged. "She's fine. She's…my father thinks she's only after money."

"Do you think so?"

He shrugged a second time. "I don't know. Maybe. I don't care."

"Well, shit. Drop her and we'll find you someone better," Tommy said. "June knows loads of skirts."

"Would you just shut up about it?"

Sensing that it was his turn to change the subject, John turned to Tommy. "How's married life?"

"There's honestly no difference."

"I imagine not…I mean most couples usually live together." The hypocrisy of his own statement wasn't lost on him. He and Dottie were also living apart. Nothing had changed between them. In fact, so far as anyone knew, she was still engaged to Jimmy. It was absurd in every possible way.

"I'm saving for a house," Tommy insisted.

"Sure."

"I can hardly ask my wife to share a room with my little brother, now can I?"

"Don't forget your child."

"Oh, right. I always forget about her." Tommy grew thoughtful for a moment then shook his head. "Are we all done?"

With their cards filled out, they joined the line to turn them in.

"So what're you going to do if you're selected?" Tommy asked.

"What do you mean?"

"Doesn't your family rely on you?"

John shrugged. "They'll be fine. I mean my dad has a job and my mom works a couple days a week. I'm sure it would be fine."

"Well, if you get chosen, at least you'll be able to finally move out."

"Says the guy who's married but still shares a bedroom with his little brother." John had reached the desk and held out his completed card. "How are people chosen?" He asked.

"It'll be through a random lottery, should it come to it."

"Oh. Is there a way to…I don't know…have better odds?"

"Better odds to be selected or to be overlooked?"

John could feel Tommy watching him. "Better odds to be selected."

The man sighed. "It'd be easier to just voluntarily enlist. Now step aside. You're holding up the line."

"Alright. Thank you."

They left the school, stepping into the sunshine, Tommy nudged him. "Your mom will murder you. You do know that, right?"

John didn't respond. He didn't know why he had asked the man about being chosen. He still didn't know if he wanted to be chosen at all. But the more he thought of it, the more he began to think that, perhaps, it wouldn't be too terrible if such a thing were to happen. It couldn't possibly have been any worse than being nearly thirty while still living at home and apart from a secret wife who was publicly engaged to another man. "It doesn't matter," he said at last. "Cal says it's just a precaution."

"If I get called, you're more than welcome to go in my place," Arthur offered.

"Arthur, you're the last person they'll want to select," Tommy said. "You don't have a job. You've never fired a gun. And, I mean this nicely, but you'd make a terrible soldier."

"The man said it was random," John stated. "I think we all have the same chance. But I think the actual odds are fairly low," he added, seeing the look on Arthur's face. "We're all too unlucky."

"You mean lucky?" Tommy asked. "We'd be lucky to not be selected. Unlucky if we were."

"Right, lucky," John said. "That's what I meant." He hoped he was lucky.

---

It was rare to have everyone over all at the same time. Every chair was full. Eileen, Henry, and Bridget played Sorry in the corner. Evy sat at the coffee table, her feet outstretched beneath it, as she sketched—Arthur had recently bought Evy her own sketchbook. Everyone else seemed to be discussing the draft and the likelihood of the United States joining the war. Everyone except for Kate.

They all seemed so nonchalant as they laughed and joked about being selected. They didn't understand how terrible it all was. But of course, they didn't. None of them were in the first war. None of them had been affected by it. Thoughts of Daniel kept drifting across her mind. She remembered too clearly when his number had been selected. The absolute fear she felt during the time he was gone. The relief when she finally saw him again. The anger that he had been badly hurt. She remembered vividly how he had been changed by what he had gone through. He had still been her Daniel but he had been someone else as well.

Unable to take it a single moment longer, Kate left the room, choosing to sit outside instead. She took several slow breaths of the chill night air and clutched her hands tightly together in a futile attempt to keep them from shaking. It was foolish to be so upset over something that hadn't happened…that may never happen.

A few minutes passed before Sarah slipped out to join her. "You're thinking of Daniel," she said, taking a seat beside her. It wasn't a question.

"How could I not be?" Kate replied. "I don't understand how everyone can be so…so unconcerned." She shook her head. "It's the same thing over again, ye know. The same war."

"I doubt anyone's unconcerned," Sarah said. "I believe they're just hiding it well." She looked at her. "I know for a fact that Pat is worried and so am I. God, I'm terrified of losing John."

"Tommy's all I have left of him," Kate said softly. "And if half of what Daniel told me was true, it would…Arthur's not the right sort for fightin'. He'd lose himself so quickly." Ever since war broke out in Europe, she had debated within herself how well the boys would do if the worst should happen. It was a horrifying pastime but one she couldn't keep from doing. John would take it seriously. Tommy would do something reckless and dangerous. And Arthur…Arthur could only break. She was sure of it.

A burst of laughter came from inside the house.

"Alright," Sarah said with a smile. "So maybe the boys are a bit unconcerned but they weren't here for the last war. They don't know any better."

Henry suddenly popped his head out the door. "Can you two play Sorry?" He asked. "Bridget accused us of cheating and doesn't want to play anymore and we can't play with only two people."

"Where ye cheatin'?" Kate asked.

"Only a little bit."

She looked at Sarah who nodded. "Set up the game and we'll be there in a moment," she said. "But no more cheatin'."

"Deal." He disappeared back inside.

Kate sighed. "I swear to God, if the war lasts long enough for Henry to get caught up in it, I'll be shippin' meself over to Germany and I'll end the damn thing meself."

---

Arthur hadn't stopped thinking about what Kate said. The way she insisted that he would know if the relationship was right. He thought about it every time he was with Doris. He thought about it every time she deflected a question about her own life. He thought about it every time she looked bored whenever he talked about Kate or how Evy had boldly proclaimed that she was going to be an artist one day. He thought even more about it when he suggested they go to Wilson's and, making a face, she declined.

It took everything he had to break it off with her as he expected her to cry or beg or declare her love or any number of things he assumed a heartbroken woman would do. Instead, she had given him a stern look.

"Is this your father's doing?" She asked.

"No, it's mine."

"Oh."

"He…he cut me off," Arthur lied. "I thought you wouldn't be interested if I didn't have money any longer."

"I see." Doris ran a finger along her silver bracelet. "Arthur, I do like you. A great deal, in fact. But…I've been thinking about it and I don't think I should be in a relationship with someone whose father disapproves so much of me. It's not fair to either of us."

"But that's not—"

"I think you're right to end things," she said. "Before anyone gets hurt." And then she had kissed his cheek and was gone.

Arthur walked home slowly, feeling both used and stupid. Everyone had known that she was using him. Everyone had known it was only about money. Everyone except for him. He had stupidly clung to the belief that she had genuinely cared for him. He had insisted so fervently that their relationship was real. He had been so wrong.

When he reached home, he lingered outside. He could only imagine the judgment on everyone's faces. He could hear the countless 'I told you so's' that they were sure to say. How could he face any of them? He had been so wrong. He wished desperately that he could bury himself deep into a hole so that the world could forget he ever existed. But, unable to do that, he sat on the front steps and rested his head against the porch post.

He heard the door open behind him and the soft footsteps approaching. He glanced back to see June looking at him, baby Alice on her hip. He hadn't known she had come over.

"What are you doing out here?" She asked.

"Nothing."

She carefully spread out her skirt and took a seat beside him, moving the baby onto her lap. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," he said again. He was acutely aware that he had never been so close to her before. He hadn't expected her to smell of flowers.

"It doesn't look like nothing."

Arthur shook his head. "I was seeing someone and—"

"Doris, you mean."

"Oh, I forgot that she was your friend."

June shrugged. "We're not that close." She smoothed down Alice's hair and pressed a gentle kiss to the back of her head. "Did she break your heart?"

"No." He knew he had replied a little too quickly. "I ended things with her." June's mascara was slightly smudged over her left eye and he couldn't stop looking at it. "Doris just…didn't care."

She smiled softly. "I'd have to say it was for the best, then," she said. "You want someone who would be simply devastated if you broke it off."

"Is that how you feel about Tommy?"

She hesitated. "It's complicated between us. I think I might be devastated if he were to die."

"But not if he left you?"

The smile faded from her face. "You know, I came out here to cheer you up and now here you are trying to make me sad."

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to. It's just…" Arthur looked at the baby on her lap who immediately smiled at him. "Tommy has no problem with any of this. Women just like him. But, they look at me and all they care about is money that I don't even have. It's not my money. And even if my father was to die tomorrow, it'll still likely not be my money. I mean with my mother and brother and step brothers and half sisters and stepmothers, I'll probably end up with twenty bucks and the washing machine."

June smiled. "You're mad if you think Kate's going to part with that washing machine. I think she's hoping to be buried with it."

"Twenty bucks then."

"Arthur." She placed a gentle hand on his arm, causing his heart to flutter strangely in his chest. "I think you're very sweet and I know someone is going to see that. And as for Tommy, women like him because he's charming and funny and knows how to flirt. He goes in and talks and talks and talks until the woman is all mixed up and doesn't know which way's up."

"Is that what he did to you?"

She ignored his question. "But it's all on the surface. With Tommy, you need a jackhammer to reach even the tiniest bit of who he really is." She lightly nudged him. "You're not like that and I think that's nice. Oh, speaking of which…"

A car had just pulled into the drive. It parked and a moment later, Tommy stepped out of it. "Were you waiting for me?" He asked June.

She jumped up from the step. "You won't believe it but Alice clapped," she said. "She actually clapped."

"Did she really?" Tommy grabbed Alice and mimicked throwing her into the air. The baby fell into giggles. "We'll just have to see if we can get her to do it again."

They went inside together, leaving Arthur sitting there alone. He wasn't sure if Tommy had even noticed him sitting there. He sighed and rested his head, once more, against the post.

---

The first men were selected on Halloween. Half of page nine in the newspaper was filled with their names. John and Arthur weren't listed but Tommy found his name at once. He wasn't surprised as he never thought his luck had been great. Still, he scanned the list twice to be sure he read it correctly. It was definitely his name.

"Damn it," he muttered. He didn't want to serve. He didn't care one bit what was going on halfway around the world. It wasn't fair.

He heard nothing else for a time—perhaps it had been a mistake, after all—until a letter arrived in the middle of November. Cal, who had gotten the mail, looked at the envelope with a strange expression on his face before handing it to Tommy.

Tommy opened it and read:

"Having submitted yourself to a Local Board composed of your neighbors for the purpose of determining your availability and service in the Army. You will, therefore, report to the Local Board named above at 7:15 am on the 25thday of November, 1940. This Local Board will furnish transportation to an induction station of the service for which you have been selected. You will there be examined and if accepted for training and service, you will then be inducted into the stated branch of service."

He read it multiple times, searching for a mistake: an incorrect name, a wrong address, it must've been meant for someone else. But there were no mistakes. The letter was meant for him. He handed it to Cal to read. "I don't actually have to go, do I?"

Cal sighed. "I believe you do."

"What if I pretend I never saw it?"

"I don't think that'll work."

"This doesn't mean I'm actually in the army, does it?"

"No, not yet," Cal replied. "It sounds like they'll examine you, maybe give you some tests."

"I'm terrible at exams so maybe they won't like me," Tommy said. "The University of Washington sure didn't."

"I suppose we'll see who has higher standards, the University of Washington or the United States Army."

"Mom won't be happy." She had been in deep denial from the moment his name appeared in the newspaper. He thought she might've even convinced herself that it was someone else who shared his name.

"What won't I be happy about?" Kate chose that moment to enter the room. "What is it?" She let out a deep sigh. "For the love of all that's holy, if ye got another woman pregnant, I'm goin' to have ye castrated."

"No! I didn't get anyone pregnant." Tommy looked to Cal for help.

"Kate." Cal handed her the letter.

She read it then shook her head. "No, yer not goin'."

"I don't have a choice."

"Of course, ye do. This is a free country and yer me son and they can't make ye go anywhere and I won't allow it."

"Kate," Cal said softly. "It's the law."

"That doesn't matter. They won't miss him if he's not there."

Tommy took the letter from her. "It says right here: 'Willful failure to report promptly to this Local Board at the hour and on the day named in this notice is a violation of the Selective Service Act of 1940 and subjects the violator to fine and imprisonment."

"Fine," Kate said. "I'd rather ye go to prison."

"Mom!"

"Ye won't die in prison." Her voice broke and she quickly pressed a palm over her mouth.

"Kate." Cal gently pulled her hand away. "It's only the induction center. It doesn't mean he's in the army and we're not even at war. There's nothing to worry about."

"No," she replied. "But we will be at war soon enough. I can feel it."

"He still needs to pass some tests and then they may not even want him."

"Of course, they'll want him. Who wouldn't want him? He should be their first choice."

Tommy watched them argue. As unhappy as he was about the situation, hearing his mother insist that they would want him—that everyone would want him—made it seem slightly less terrible. It wasn't something he had heard very often. Hugh would always tell him the opposite. He looked at the letter once again. "Bring with you sufficient clothing for three days," he read. "I have to stay for three days?"

"If you're fortunate, it will only be three days," Cal said.

Winter

After using Kate's washing machine a few times, Sarah made the resolution to save up to buy her own. It was so much better than the old way that she firmly believed if men had regularly done laundry, its invention would have occurred a century sooner.

Lost in this thought, she carried a stack of John's freshly laundered clothes to his room and placed them neatly in his dresser. As she shut the drawer, a letter caught her eye, tucked discreetly beneath a book. Curious, she pulled it out. Sarah felt the air go out of her lungs at the words 'Order To Report for Induction' written across the top. It had to have been a mistake. She had studied the list of names in the newspaper carefully. He hadn't been selected.

"John!" She called out as she raced from his room, finding him in the living room. "What's this?" She held the letter out.

John shifted uncomfortably. "I was selected."

"No, you were not selected. Your name wasn't on the list."

"It...it was. You probably overlooked it. I know I overlooked it at first." He refused to meet her gaze.

"John, I went through that list line-by-line three times. Your name is not on it. So, you answer me right now. Why did they send you this?"

"I was...I mean, it was…" John sighed. "Fine. I volunteered."

"Why would you do something so stupid?"

"It's not stupid."

Sarah looked at the letter in her hands again. She could hardly believe what she was hearing. Why would anyone volunteer for such a thing? "No, it is stupid," she insisted. "We are going to go to war and you're going to get yourself killed. Or maimed. You want to come back home with no arms or legs?"

"That won't happen."

"How do you know it won't?"

"I just know it."

Feeling the weight of a losing battle, Sarah changed her tactic. "What about Dottie?" She asked. "I thought you wanted to marry her. How in the world are you going to convince her parents to like you if you're not even here?"

"I already married her." John immediately clapped a hand over his mouth.

Sarah felt her legs give out and she collapsed onto a seat. "You what?"

He sighed. "We were tired of waiting for her parents to come around so we went ahead and married."

"You eloped?" There was a deep ache in her heart that seemed to grow with the words.

"I suppose you can call it that."

"When did you…just when?"

"Last July."

"July?" Sarah repeated. "Am I a terrible mother? Do you hate me? Is that what this is?"

"I don't hate you," John replied. "And I don't understand why you're so angry. I'm not a child anymore and I haven't been for a long time."

"My only son went and married without telling me and now he's enlisted in the army, again without telling me. How am I supposed to feel?"

"I'm trying to do the right thing."

"Maybe you should've tried harder." Sarah walked away, shutting herself in her room and began to cry.

After a time, Pat came in, looking concerned.

"Did he tell you?" Sarah asked. She could feel the beginnings of a headache start to pound behind her eyes.

"He did. Just now, mind ye." He sat beside her on the bed. "Ye weren't the only one he kept in the dark."

"Where did I go wrong? Why does my son hate me so much?"

Pat put his arm around him. "No, no. He doesn't hate ye. How could he?" He reassured her. "He just wasn't thinkin'. And this isn't even the first time he's done something like this. He quit school without a word and he did the same when he left to work in the mine, if ye recall."

"I suppose."

"Now, we both like Dottie so him marryin' her is good news."

"They don't even live together."

"They haven't told her parents yet."

"Hm." Sarah rested her head on his shoulder. "Is him joining the army also good news. He should've just waited until it was his turn."

Pat sighed. "John has a great deal of dumb luck. He's always had it otherwise he would've broken his neck fallin' out of one of those trees out back long ago. No matter what happens, I know he'll be fine."

"You sound so sure."

"I am sure," he replied. "Besides, I think Tommy's the one who deserves the worry. He's just as dumb as John but much less lucky."

Sarah sighed. "Poor Kate. I can't imagine how she's feeling."

---

John knew the letter said to bring three days worth of clothes, but he still hadn't expected to be whisked away to a reception center at once. He hated that he hadn't left on good terms with his mother and he made a mental note to write to her the first chance he had, apologizing for not telling her sooner, attempting to explain his reasons once more.

So far, his experience had been nothing but tests and paperwork and constant, probing interviews. He had never felt so judged in his entire life. With everything, he was grateful to be there with someone he knew, even if that someone made it clear at every possible moment that they didn't want to be there.

"You would think they'd have a better army if they only filled it with men who actually want to be there," Tommy said over their dinner at the end of the second day.

"Makes sense to me." John's plate was piled high with fried chicken, mashed potatoes, green beans, coleslaw with a giant slice of apple pie on the side, all of it much better than his mother's cooking. If that was the sort of food they served every day in the army, he should've joined years ago.

"I mean people who want to be there will try harder. It's just basic facts."

"I'm not disagreeing with you."

"Why do they even want me? I'm not that special," Tommy insisted. "I just don't understand."

"I don't understand either," John said. "I thought they weren't accepting men with dependents and you have a dependent."

"I have a what?"

"A child."

Tommy stared at the chicken on his plate. "Oh...well, shit."

"Did you forget that you're married with a child."

"No."

"Tommy?"

"Fine. I might've forgotten. But I remember now," Tommy replied. "Should I tell someone?"

John shrugged. "I think it's too late for that. You've already been sworn in. Besides, who forgets they're married? They'd probably think you were making it up just to go home. Especially after all of your complaining."

Tommy sighed. "Just my luck."

John's thoughts drifted to Dottie. He had nearly been late to the induction center because he had stopped to see her first.

He had knocked on her door and her mother answered. "Dottie's not home."

"I am so," Dottie said, pushing past her mother. She grabbed John's arm and led him away from the house and out of earshot. "What are you doing here?"

"I love you too," John said. She was always so pretty.

She looked at the bag on his shoulder and frowned. "Are you going somewhere?"

He hesitated, afraid that her reaction would be the same as his mother's. "I sort of enlisted."

"By choice?" Dottie looked skeptical. "Why would you do that?"

John was relieved that she didn't look angry. "I volunteered because you're right. I don't have my own life and I want to do this. I can't support my family anymore."

She crossed her arms. "I tell you that I'm not sure you could support a wife because you're too busy supporting your family so your answer is to stop supporting your family and, instead, try to support the entire country?"

"Yes."

She smiled suddenly. "You're so dumb sometimes. When do you leave?"

"I have to report for induction in…" He checked his watch. "Twenty minutes."

"You're cutting it a bit close."

"I had to see you first," John replied. "They might turn me down but if I pass everything then...well, I'll only be gone a year."

"That's not so bad," Dottie said. "Maybe you'll see Jimmy. His number was called."

"So was my cousin." As he looked at her, he imagined not seeing her for an entire year and a feeling of doubt started to grow in the pit of his stomach. "Can I kiss you?"

She looked around. "My mother's watching but to hell with it." She kissed him. "Now, you better go. You need to make a good impression, after all." She lightly touched his cheek. "And don't do anything stupid like re-enlist when the year's up and you better write to me. Every week. And I want long letters."

"I will to all of that...or most of that. I can't guarantee I won't do anything stupid the entire year."

"Alright." She stepped in closer. "If you find a moment, do you think you could break off my engagement with Jimmy?"

"You want me to do that for you?"

"If you have a moment."

"Will you tell your parents about us?"

"If I have a moment."

John smiled at her.

"Now you better go," Dottie said. "My husband is not going to be late on his very first day."

"Alright." It felt so strange to hear someone refer to him as a husband. "Oh, right. My parents sort of know about us."

"You told them?"

"It just slipped out, I swear. But they like you so it's not a big deal."

"That's good."

"Mom will probably have you over for dinner soon."

"John, I swear, if you don't go now…"

"I'm going." John had kissed her cheek and she had pushed him away.

Thinking about that last time he had seen Dottie took away the remainder of his appetite and he sighed.

"Do you think they'll let us go home on the weekends?" Tommy asked. "Or for holidays?"

"Probably not." They were going to find out their camp assignments the following day and, as unrealistic as he knew it was, a part of John hoped they might somehow end up close to home.

---

Cal knew that Sarah didn't like it when he bought her family expensive items. Kate hardly tolerated him buying them for his own family. But with most of the world at war and them on the brink of war, with Tommy and John both in the army, he was prepared to break her rules.

While Pat was at work and the kids at school, he brought over a radio. It was nothing too fancy or expensive but it served its purpose.

"No Kate?" Sarah asked.

"June is at a shorthand class and Kate has the baby. She wanted to come but she thought it was too cold to take Alice out."

"I see." Sarah eyed the radio suspiciously. "Why did you bring this? The victrola still works fine."

"For God's sake, Sarah, it's 1940. No one uses victrolas anymore," he said as he plugged it in.

"In case you've forgotten, you bought me this victrola. It was the second best part of that birthday."

Cal remembered that day too well. He assumed the first best part had to have been Pat's surprise arrival. "Then keep using it. But with everything happening in the world right now, a radio might be more useful. And I know what you're going to say but you do need it. It'll be a good way to keep up with the news."

"We have newspapers for that."

He switched it on and twisted the middle knob to the left. "You'll learn things faster with the radio." He slowly turned the station selector, moving through static, a man's voice, a blast of music, then back to static.

"Wait, go back."

Cal turned the knob the other way until Bing Crosby's warm voice filled the room.

Sarah smiled. "I rather listen to him than the news."

"Me too." Cal thought of Fabrizio and sighed. He had sent three letters since Italy had joined the war but hadn't received a single reply. He tried to keep from worrying as he wasn't sure if they had even received any of his letters. War had to have slowed down general mail service. And surely they had moved someplace safer than Genoa or even left the country. As stubborn as Fabrizio could be, Cal knew that he cared about his family and would do anything to keep them safe.

"How does it feel to have a grandchild?" Sarah asked.

"Unreal," he replied. "In total honesty, babies are much more enjoyable when they return to their own homes at the end of the night." As Arthur and Victor had both been raised by nannies, Evy proved to be a bit of a shock. He hadn't realized how often they woke up in the middle of the night, screaming their little heads off. He had half a mind to track down his sons' nanny and buy the woman an over-the-top, expensive gift for her many years of service.

"I'm sure," Sarah said. She stared at the radio, her brow furrowed, and he wasn't sure if she had heard his response at all.

"It'll be fine, you know," Cal said.

She looked at him and managed a weak smile. "I hope so."

"I know so."

---

Pat sat on the roof beside Kate, bundled up against the cold. The sky overhead was thick with clouds, obscuring every star and turning the moon into a hazy glow. He knew there was nothing unusual in the weather but the lack of stars still felt ominous.

"Ye remember the last time we did this?" Kate took a drink from the bottle of wine they had brought with them and passed it to him.

"Aye, ye were still married to Hugh."

She hesitated. "And ye were worried ye were losin' yer mind."

He lifted the bottle to his lips. "I remember."

"Do ye still think that?"

It was something he had always tried his hardest not to think about as he had learned long ago that once he let such a worry take hold, it would never let go. "Every so often, I suppose," he admitted. "I try not to think about it." He shrugged. "I haven't had a nightmare in awhile now so that's something."

"I wish I could say the same." Kate reached for the bottle. "Last night I dreamt me son came home in pieces except each piece was in a different box. I tried to put him back together but I couldn't make the pieces fit."

"Jaysus, that's horrifyin'. I'm sorry."

She ran a hand over her face. "It just seems so unlikely they'll both come back unharmed, ye know?"

"Ye can't be thinkin' that," Pat said. "First, we're not at war."

Kate scoffed. "How long do ye think that'll last?"

He took the bottle from her. "I hope for as long as possible."

"Come on, Pat. Why they be draftin' men left and right if there's no intention of goin' to war? They're buildin' an army. It's clear as day."

He thought she was likely right but didn't want to say it aloud. He took a long drink. "I'm sure it'll be fine."

Kate let out a sigh. "Maybe it'll be good for Tommy. He could use a bit of structure."

"How's June handlin' it?"

"She's alright," she said. "A bit upset that Tommy left without a word to her."

"Are they not gettin' along?"

"They get along well enough, but they need to be livin' together. Ye can't build a relationship with someone ye rarely see." She shook her head. "I swear Tommy forgets he's married half the time. Just the week before he left, I had to stop him from takin' another lady out to the movies. June hadn't visited for a week and he had genuinely forgotten about her. Give me that bottle." She paused as she drank. "When this is all over, I'm goin' to speak with Cal. Maybe we can put the money down on a house for them...assumin' Tommy comes back at all."

Pat put an arm around her. "I want ye to repeat after me. We are not."

"We are not."

"At war."

"At war," Kate repeated. "For now."

"Worry when there's a reason to worry," Pat said. "There's no use in doin' it any sooner.

"That's much easier said than done." She held up the bottle of wine and shook it. "Yer goin' to have to take what's left with ye when ye go."

"Is he still drinkin'?"

"No," she replied. "At least I don't believe so. But I don't want to make it any more difficult for him by havin' it in the house."

"Is he still treatin' ye well?" Pat knew the answer to the question before he had even asked it as his sister was happier than she had ever been with Hugh.

Kate smiled. "He treats me like a queen...well, no he doesn't. He treats me like an equal."

"And that's better than a queen?"

"He makes me feel human and useful," she said. "Like I matter."

Pat recalled the way Hugh had treated her. He remembered the number of times that man had called her useless among worse things, all within his own hearing. He couldn't even begin to imagine what he might've called her when they were alone. Then he thought of how resilient she was, how much she had survived, how much she had overcome. His sister was the strongest person he had ever known. "I know it doesn't mean much," he said softly. "But I'm so proud of ye."

Kate looked at him and smiled. "It means a great deal."