Montclair
December 7, 1941
CARA HAD SPENT THE DAY ALONE. Kip was at the airfield, and the house seemed so empty without the old sounds of voices echoing, feet running upon the stairs, dogs barking. She even missed the pile of muddy boots in the front hall, the dogs romping in when they were allowed. She missed Niki more than she told anyone, more than she had imagined possible. And Luc was in flight training in Texas.
Reports from England of the night air raids by the Nazi Luftwaffe, which was kept at bay only by the small, brave British air force, were frightening. How long could they hold out? Cara was afraid of what Luc might do once he got his wings. Might he follow his father’s example? In the last war against Germany Kip had joined the Lafayette Esquadrille, the group of American flyers who had volunteered to fight for France. Ever since Luc had returned from France after the summer of 1939, he had talked of joining the Canadian Royal Air Force in order to help the Allies. He had had a renewed sense of his own link to France. Luc’s French mother, Etienette, had been an ambulance driver in the last war, as had Cara herself.
Cara shuddered, pushing away some of her horrible memories of that time. Do something, she ordered herself firmly. Keeping busy was the best way to fight the loneliness that threatened to overcome her. She decided to start a job she had put off for months—years, even. That was getting the family’s photograph album in order.
At one time Niki had become an avid “shutterbug,” after being given a small camera for Christmas. Soon, as happened with many of Niki’s enthusiasms, the novelty had worn off, and she had gone on to some other hobby. Cara was then designated to become the chronicler of the events of their lives. Now she got out the large leather album choked with dozens of assorted photos. She sat down at the table in what had formerly been called the library at Montclair but through the chaotic years of their haphazard life had been humorously dubbed the “multipurpose room.”
As Cara sorted through the pictures—some still in their original envelope from the developers, others thrust in a hodgepodge of bunches between the covers—she discovered that it was not the chore she had anticipated. Rather, she was enjoying it. Looking at the snapshots of Niki and Luc as little children brought back so many happy memories of the years they were becoming a real family. Luc in the cowboy outfit he’d asked for and received for Christmas. Niki, looking adorable at six, dressed for Easter Sunday in a smocked dress and flowered hat. Luc in his VMI uniform, and another of him at the Mayfield horse show, standing beside his horse and proudly holding his trophy. Niki with her beloved Shetland pony, Sugar, then later with her horse, Maggie. Still another of her, in sharp contrast, looking demure in her white graduation dress, carrying a bouquet of roses tied with a satin ribbon on which was written “Class of 1939.” That was in June, right before she left for what was to be a summer in France.
There were many of Kip. Cara noticed this with some amusement, because they had usually been taken by her when she was trying to finish a roll of film. Kip with both children at various ages, on horseback or behind the wheel of the vintage roadster that he refused to sell or trade in for a more modern car. He periodically polished it, even though he no longer drove it. Cara studied her husband’s face, thinking how little he had actually changed. Of course, there was some gray at his temples, but that only made him look distinguished. He was still as handsome as he’d been in his twenties. She came across one she had not taken. Somehow this had got slipped in among the more recent ones. It was of Kip in front of his plane, looking confident and with that slightly amused expression, as if he found the world continually surprising. Where had this been snapped? Cara squinted, looking closer. At an airfield in France? And by whom? Kitty? Her twin had once been engaged to Kip. Or was it the French girl he had fallen in love with who became Luc’s mother?
Cara was totally absorbed in what she was doing, and the afternoon passed almost unnoticed. When she heard the sound of tires on the gravel driveway, she looked up at the mantel clock and was astonished to see it was nearly five o’clock. Kip was home! Outside, the winter day was darkening. She heard his footsteps on the porch, the front door opening and slamming shut behind him. Then he was standing in the arched entrance to the library.
One look at his face and immediately Cara knew that something was dreadfully wrong. She felt a cold fist of dread in the pit of her stomach. Had something happened to one of the children? To Luc? Or Niki? She started to get up, and all the loose snapshots spilled from the album she had on her lap.
“Haven’t you had the radio on?” Kip demanded.
“No, I’ve been—” She stopped abruptly. “Why?”
“The Japanese have bombed Pearl Harbor. It means war.”