K.T. had convinced himself to not have second thoughts. He and Wendy were friends. After everything that she’d done for him, she deserved his friendship. Furthermore, he’d finally finished a letter to Betty. He’d told her about Wendy. Nurse Smith, who had worked diligently to see he was healed and back on duty, and had contacted a lawyer to help his parents with the oil company wanting to survey their land.
He’d skimmed over his burns and treatment, and the attack, in the letter saying as little as possible, because he didn’t want her to worry. Nor did he mention the necklace he’d mailed her a couple of months ago, because he didn’t want her to feel bad about not writing to let him know that she’d received it. Or maybe she hadn’t received it. Maybe he should have put it in a box, instead of just an envelope.
Betty hadn’t written him after the letter that Wendy had penned for him, and he wondered if their time apart had finally gotten to her. His father had said that could happen. To both or either one of them, and that no one would be to blame. If they loved each other, that love would last four years, and many more after that.
K.T. looked at the letter. He’d planned on dropping it in the outgoing mail this morning, on his way to the hospital for his bandage change. Wendy had changed it for him the past two days and had offered to meet him there at eight this morning, but he’d declined. It was her day off and he wasn’t going to make her go into work just for him.
He opened his desk drawer and dropped the letter inside, deciding to mail it later, then left for the hospital.
The nurse who put on the dressing was one he’d had while in the hospital, and he thanked her for doing a fine job before leaving the hospital. Although he’d be glad when he no longer needed any bandages, he would never forget the pain of those first days. He’d never forget the care he’d received, either.
A few moments later, the hitch inside his chest was caused by two things. Knowing who had provided that care, and seeing her standing outside of her barracks as he turned the corner around the back side of the hospital. She was wearing the same red polka dot dress as the night of the dance, and looked just as pretty as she had that night.
Prettier, because he now knew more about her. So much more. She was far more than a pretty face.
She walked to the edge of the sidewalk and waited for him to stop the jeep.
“Good morning,” he greeted while turning off the engine.
“Good morning.”
There was no door for him to open or close, but he still got out and walked her to the passenger side of the jeep. He waited for her to climb inside, before he walked around and climbed in the driver’s side. “Ready?”
“I am.”
He started the engine and shifted into Reverse. Turned out, he had the day off, too. There were others working today, but because of his limited capacity duty, there was nothing he could participate in. Unaccustomed to ever having idle time on his hands, he would have been as utterly restless today as he had been in the hospital. He also had a surprise for her, but would wait until later to mention that. She’d said that she had the entire day free, and he’d decided to make the most of it.
“I haven’t seen much of the island since the attack,” he said. “Would you mind if we took a drive around?”
“Not at all,” she said. “I haven’t seen much, either, and have wanted to.” She grimaced slightly. “I don’t need reminders of the damage, but I do want to know what we survived, because that will make us stronger.”
He nodded, fully understanding. It was natural curiosity to want to see how things had changed, and he, too, felt that it was necessary. “I agree. You surprise me sometimes with the things you say.”
“I do? Why?”
“Because you seem to be so wise for someone so young.”
She sighed. “Wisdom doesn’t only come from years.”
“You are right about that, too.” He followed the road around the hospital, and inland, toward the road that went to Honolulu. Sandbags and boxes surrounded every building, and manned machine gun nests were stationed at all corners atop the buildings, but as they drove off the base, it was evident that was the case everywhere, as were antiaircraft stations. The long guns with their big heavy metal stands and wheels were visible in all directions. There were also numerous signs indicating the way to first aid stations and reminding travelers of the martial laws in effect.
Although the two of them discussed what they saw now and again, for most of the time, they were silent, merely taking in the sights. Hickman Airfield had practically been destroyed. Complete hangers had been bombed, destroyed, along with the planes that had been inside them.
K.T. knew the army was just as set on repair and rebuild as the navy, and silently wished them well. Every military man knew no one fought for only one unit or branch, they all fought together, for the men at their sides and the people back home.
“Look at the beaches,” she said, as the road curved and then followed along the coastline. “What is that?”
“Rolls of barbed wire,” he replied. “And trenches.” The deepest ones he’d seen yet. The entire jeep could drive down into them and not be seen.
“How did those people get on the other side of it?” she asked.
There were people on the other side of the wire, some fishing, some swimming, and some simply playing in the sand. “Where there is a will, there is a way,” he replied.
“Will they be arrested?” she asked.
Considering the armed guards stationed along the trenches, he said, “If they are still there at curfew, yes, but during the day, people are allowed to go about their business.”
“That’s good, don’t you think?” she replied. “Everyone is on high alert, but they still need to live.”
“I agree.” Following the road to Downtown Honolulu, he asked, “Is there anything you want to see?”
She looked his way, but didn’t say anything.
“What is it?” he asked, reading her thoughtful expression. “What do you want to see?”
“Well, we don’t have to, but the day of the attack, I had planned on taking a jitney into town to see the palace.”
“The palace?”
“Yes, the Iolani Palace, it’s being used as the capitol building for the territory.”
He was aware of that, but hadn’t given it a lot of thought. His duty came first.
“When King Kalākaua died,” she continued, “his sister succeeded him. Queen Lili’uokalani. That was in 1889. She was vastly opposed, and eventually the monarchy was overthrown, but before then the royal family hosted lavish balls and parties for people from around the world. The palace had amenities that were practically unheard of at the time, including indoor plumbing, electricity, and a telephone.”
“I didn’t know any of that,” he said.
“I like learning about new things.”
He glanced her way quickly. “And seeing things.” There was little that he’d ever forget about her or the things she’d told him. “Seeing the world.”
“Yes, seeing the world.”
“Well, then, it’s a palace you shall see today.”
It was easy to find, and an impressive structure of stone masonry. Two stories aboveground, with a row of windows indicating it had a full basement, the building was sandstone in color, and had square turrets on each corner of the roof, and a larger turret in the center. It was surrounded by rows of palm trees, and guards, including atop the building and blocking the entranceway.
He brought the jeep to a stop, so she could look at it from the distance of the long driveway. “Sorry, looks like this is as close as we can get.”
“That’s fine, I just wanted to be able to say that I’ve seen a palace.” She let out a long, soft sigh. “And now I have.”
He looked at the palace again, wondering what she saw, because there was a certain glow on her face and in her eyes, which to him, was more enticing than the building. He’d never been enticed by someone before, and wasn’t comfortable thinking about why he was this time.
She sighed and started talking about Queen Lili’uokalani being arrested and confined to a bedroom on the second story of the palace, and though he heard every word, his mind was still on her, and the situation he found himself in, and what he should do about it.
“I think we should leave now,” she said. “Before a guard comes and questions us.”
Noticing the guard looking at them, he shifted the jeep into first gear. “Where to now?”
“Wherever you want,” she said, opening the purse sitting on her lap.
K.T. had to force himself to pull his eyes off her and onto the road as she pulled a pair of sunglasses out of her purse and slid them on her face. Although he’d been issued sunglasses back in California, and wore them regularly when on the water, up until this moment, the only women he’d seen wear a pair of sunglasses were movie stars in magazines. Round, with thick wire frames, they looked adorable on her. “Where did you get those?” he asked.
“Uncle Sy. He saw them in a catalog and gave them to me before I left. He said, ‘Now, Wendy—’ That’s what he always said, ‘Now, Wendy,’ like now was my first name and Wendy my last. ‘Now, Wendy, all the women in California are wearing them, so you best have a pair, too. The sun must be brighter out there.’”
K.T. figured her uncle Sy must have been looking at the same movie star magazines as he had.
“I would have brought along a hat, had I known the sun would be this bright.” Then, with a laugh, she added, “No, I wouldn’t have. The only hat I have is tan colored and wouldn’t go with this dress.”
Her honesty made him laugh. He hadn’t expected her to not be honest, because she never had been; it was just the way she said things that tickled him. That, too, was unusual. “Well, the glasses look very nice.”
“Thank you. I like them, too. I would have brought along the camera he gave me, but I thought were we just going to the base, and I know that no one is supposed to take pictures of anything that the enemy could use to gather intelligence.”
That was the standing order, and he wasn’t surprised that she’d follow all orders to a T. “We can come to the palace another day for you to take a picture.”
“That’s okay, I already bought a postcard with a picture of the palace. It’s much nicer than one I would have taken.”
They ended up driving around Honolulu, seeing some interesting sights, including Diamond Head, the Aloha Tower, and the Royal Hawaiian Hotel, and many not so pleasant things. Buildings that had been damaged, windows that had been painted black, parks and school yards that now hosted long trenches and gun stations.
Their conversations were just as varied. She was full of information about the island, things he would never have known.
As they drove past an area where several children were playing, she asked, “Do you think everyone on the mainland has been issued a gas mask?”
He’d seen the pile of them near the children, and his, as well as her box, were on the seat between them. “I’m not sure.”
“That would be a lot of masks.”
“Yes, it would,” he agreed.
Still watching the children, she giggled and shook her head.
Curious, he asked, “What are you giggling about?”
“A memory,” she said, and twisted slightly to look at him as she spoke. “There was this little boy, Todd, who lived about three blocks from the store, and a few years ago, he came in one morning with what I thought was a list of things that his mother needed. He asked if we had any eggs, and I said yes, then he asked if we had any yield.”
“Yield?” he asked, questioning if he’d heard her.
“Yes.” She laughed. “I questioned him, and he showed me the list. It was actually a recipe. He wanted his mother to make him some cookies, and she said she couldn’t because they didn’t have all the ingredients. He said he’d checked and the only things they didn’t have were the eggs and the yield.” Fully animated with laughter, she added, “The bottom of the recipe said yield two dozen.”
He laughed, too. It felt good, and reminded him again of how right she was that even amidst a war, people needed to live. To laugh. Have fun. He was going to do just that today. There would be time for him to contemplate everything else later. “What did you do?”
“I gave him two eggs and explained that yield meant how many cookies his mother could then bake.” With a smile still filling her face, she sighed. “Later that day, he brought me a cookie.”
“That was nice of him, and nice of you to give him the eggs.”
“It was nice of him, but a week later, when his mother came in, I discovered that she’d sent a plate of cookies to us, not just one.” Laughing again, she said, “Todd had hidden the rest of the ones he was supposed to deliver, for himself.”
“He sounds like he was quite a kid.”
She nodded. “Did you ever hide something from your mother?”
“Yes. All kids do.”
“Tell me one.”
“There was the time I got bucked off a horse and knocked my shoulder blade out of place. I was eight. As luck would have it, I had to use both hands to climb back in the saddle, and doing that popped it back in place. Which hurt worse than falling off had, but by supper time, it was feeling good enough that I never told anyone.”
“You didn’t? Why not?”
“Because I wasn’t supposed to be riding that horse.” He didn’t explain that the stallion had belonged to neighbors and had made its way to their house looking for a mare. Another memory formed. “There was also the time I tore my shirt on purpose, but claimed it was an accident.”
“Why would you do that?”
“Because it had flowers on it. Tiny blue ones. My mother had said no one would notice the flowers. She had sewn it for me out of one of her old dresses, claiming I’d been growing so fast she couldn’t keep me in clothes. I’d rather have gone shirtless. I knew the exact nail to let it catch on in the barn and ripped it from the collar to the hem, then ran to the house, convinced it wouldn’t be repairable. It was. She stitched it up and I had to wear that flowered shirt for dang near a year.”
Wendy was laughing so hard, she’d pulled a handkerchief out of her purse and wiped her eyes. “I’m sorry, but that’s too funny.”
“It wasn’t to a ten-year-old boy.”
They continued sharing stories, and he took the longer inland route back to the base. Along the way, he pulled over once in a while to get a better look at the mountain range, some umbrella-shaped Hitachi trees, and the bark of the colorful eucalyptus trees. He could have wondered why he took the longer route, but already knew. These were all things she would like to see, and he wanted to be the one to show them to her.
Once they arrived back at the base, he took her inside one of the buildings, where his unit’s supplies and equipment were stored. Half his unit was working today, under Scott’s command, and the other half had the day off.
She was full of questions about the rubberized coveralls, complete with gloves, and the heavy, lead-weighted belts and shoes, and the big copper helmet and breastplate they wore while diving. He didn’t mind answering all of her questions. For years, he’d explained in letters and during his two trips home, what he did and about his equipment, but this was the first time he’d shown it to anyone.
“Good heavens,” she said, attempting to pick up the eighty-five-pound belt. “How can you move with this on?”
“It’s hard on land, but under the water, the weight counterbalances the buoyancy of the suit and we can move easily. Without the belt and the weighted shoes, we’d be constantly floating upward and never get any work done.”
“I see it all, but I still can’t imagine wearing any of this.” She touched the air hose that connected to the helmet. “I can’t imagine depending on someone else to make sure I have the air I need to breathe, either.”
“The men on the surface provide us with everything we need, air, sight, direction. We couldn’t do any of it without them.”
Wendy’s heart was thudding in her throat at the idea of him wearing all this heavy equipment and counting on someone else to make sure he could breathe. To her, it was as frightening as it was unbelievable, yet, she could hear the pride in his voice, and the passion. He enjoyed being a diver. Immensely. From her conversations with the members in his unit who had come to see him at the hospital, she knew he was one of the best, too.
“Thank you for showing me all of this,” she said. “It’s so very interesting, and I’m totally in disbelief at what you do. At how you do it.”
“I’m just one of many.”
She shook her head at how he was normalizing how specific and specialized his job was, and him. A swell of emotion filled her from head to toe as she looked up at him. He was such a remarkable man. Truly remarkable. “I am honored to know you, Oklahoma.” Then, she might never know what prompted her to do it, but she stretched up on her toes and kissed his cheek. “Very honored.”
He went as stiff as a board, and for the next second or more, she questioned her own sanity.
Until he laughed and gave her a quick, but solid hug. “I’m honored to know you, too, Nebraska,” he said as his arms slipped away.
She used the time to get her breathing and nerves back under control while he made sure the equipment that he’d shown her was all back in its proper place. It wasn’t easy, and she hadn’t quite accomplished gaining control, when he turned about, with a full-blown smile on his face.
“It’s time for your surprise,” he said.
She blinked, now working on understanding his comment. “Surprise? What surprise?”
He clasped her hand and started walking toward the door of the building. “Didn’t I tell you that I have a surprise for you?”
“No, you did not, and you know you didn’t,” she said, heart pounding hard enough that it could easily explode at any given moment. His hand holding hers was the culprit, yet she didn’t want him to release it, either.
“I guess I forgot.”
“Forgot?” She shook her head, because she didn’t believe that. “What is it?”
“A surprise.”
He was enjoying this way too much. So was she, and just like holding his hand, didn’t want it to end. She should, and she should be thinking about the consequences, but not today. He deserved a day of fun after all he’d been through, and that’s all this was. A day of friends having fun together. “I demand you tell me this instant.”
His laughter echoed inside the building. “Demand all you want. This is a wait and see kind of deal.”
They arrived at the door to the building, and as he opened it and gestured for her to walk outside, she said, “I don’t want to wait and see.”
“You don’t have a choice.” He stepped outside beside her and after he’d shut the door, continued to hold her hand all the way to the jeep.
She climbed in and once again took her glasses out of her purse, merely for something to do because her hand was still tingling and sending little shoots of happiness right to her heart.
He climbed in the driver’s side and winked at her before he started the engine.
Good heavens, but her insides were leaping for joy, and she once again told herself that it was only because they were friends, having fun. Just like the night of the dance. “What are you going to do after the war?” she asked, practically out of the blue because she hadn’t planned on asking that. “Will you keep diving and welding?”
He shifted the jeep into Reverse and backed up. “I don’t think there will be a lot of need for that in Oklahoma.”
“No, I suppose not.” She wasn’t sure what she’d expected as an answer, nor what she’d wanted to hear.
“What will you do? Keep nursing?”
That was easy to answer. “Keep seeing the world. I’ll find another way once my time with the Red Cross is over.”
He looked at her with a slight shake of his head. “I believe you will.”
She contemplated telling him about Betty’s letter, but quickly decided that would ruin the day, and she didn’t want to do that. She did need to do it soon. He needed to know, and not just because someone else might tell him in a letter, even Betty herself if he was to write to her. All of that was on her mind continuously, but even more concerning was why she hadn’t told him yet. She’d never done anything so deceiving, and was beginning to understand why she was doing it. She didn’t want their friendship to end.
Turning her head so he wouldn’t hear her release a heavy sigh, she decided that she’d tell him about the letter tomorrow.
He drove past all the buildings and then along a short road that led to several blocks of military housing. Some were single homes, but more were duplexes, two houses built in one, and the road he turned on hosted at least a half a dozen identical dual homes side by side, separated by small yards.
“Where are we going?” she asked.
“It’s a surprise,” he replied, while turning into a driveway of one of the duplex homes. It was white stucco, as they all were, and one story tall with dual front porches opposite each other.
She removed her sunglasses and glanced from the house to him. “Who lives here?”
“Let’s go see.” He climbed out and met her at her side of the vehicle.
Clasping her purse, after having dropped her glasses inside, she climbed out and walked beside him to the door. The one on the left. The other half of the house’s front door was on the right.
Her joy of the day and the surprise had waned due to her own thoughts, until the door opened. Completely surprised and thrilled, she gasped. “Anda!”
Anda stepped onto the porch and they hugged. Tightly. As the hug ended, Anda said, “When Will said that K.T. was showing you the base today, I told him to tell K.T. if he didn’t bring you around to see me that I’d never forgive him.”
Wendy looked at K.T.
He grinned. “Surprise!”
She gave him a soft slap on the chest and told Anda, “He didn’t tell me a word about it. I had no idea. How are you? How is Pearl?”
“We are both wonderful,” Anda said. “Come in. Come in. Lunch is ready and staying warm in the oven. You can see her before we eat.”
Wendy shot a look over her shoulder while following Anda inside the house, and shook her head at K.T.
He merely grinned.
“She’s sleeping,” Anda said. “But no one knows for how long. Could be an hour, could be three.” She waved an arm toward the living room. “Will’s in the kitchen, K.T., setting the table. That’s what I was doing when he said you’d pulled in the driveway.”
“I’ll go see if I can help him,” K.T. said.
“Oh, I’m so happy to see you,” Anda said, hooking an arm with Wendy’s. “I’ve thought of you so many times since leaving the hospital.”
“As I have you,” Wendy said. “Every time I walk past your room, I think of you and Pearl. Especially after K.T. was discharged, before that, he’d give me updates from when Will or Scott stopped in to see him.”
“So many families have evacuated back to the States,” Anda said as they walked down a short hallway and stopped near a door. “There are only three wives left in the entire neighborhood, and it’s been so lonely.”
So many things had changed. Wendy laid a hand on Anda’s arm. “Now that I know where you live, I can come visit on my days off.”
“That would be so wonderful.” Anda opened the door and they walked into the room to gaze at the baby sleeping in the wooden cradle.
“She’s grown,” Wendy whispered, gently touching Pearl’s downy soft dark hair. “And even more beautiful than the last time I saw her.”
After a few moments of whispering and adoring the baby, they left the room and met the men in the kitchen, where the table was set. A delicious aroma filled the room, reminding Wendy that she hadn’t eaten a home-cooked meal since leaving Nebraska.
“Let’s eat while we can,” Will said. “Pearl has been known to interrupt more than one meal.”
His statement was said jokingly, and the look that he and Anda shared made Wendy wonder what it would feel to have a love like that. For a moment, she questioned why she wondered that now. Her aunt and uncle loved each other, and her cousins loved their spouses, and she’d never given it a second thought.
Perhaps because she’d known that it wasn’t something she’d ever want. She didn’t want that to change. She didn’t want to love someone and didn’t want them to love her. She’d promised herself that she wouldn’t depend on any man. So she refused to let it happen.
The four of them sat at the table, and she joined the conversation, yet couldn’t stop herself from noting the way Will and Anda smiled at each other, laughed at what the other was saying, or how their love for one another was reflected in their eyes.
After the meal, she insisted upon helping Anda wash the dishes, something she hadn’t done in ages. It was a silly thing to miss, and she hadn’t realized that she had until now.
Or maybe it was the companionship she felt with Anda as they worked together that she’d missed. It was different than working at the hospital. There was a normalcy in doing dishes. There was nothing to think about, just wash, dry, and put away, all the while visiting.
That’s what she wanted. Things to just be normal, and to not think about who loved each other and who didn’t.
There was also a normalcy in the events that happened afterward, how she and K.T. spent a large portion of the afternoon with Will and Anda, and Pearl after her feeding and before she fell asleep again. She enjoyed every minute, especially listening to K.T. and Will share comical stories about their work.
When they took their leave, Wendy promised to visit on her next day off. “It’s not that far of a walk,” she told Anda.
Anda laughed. “I thought that once.”
Wendy covered her mouth with her hand. “Oh, I’m sorry! I had forgotten about how you walked to the hospital while in labor.”
“I’d suggest you have K.T. give you a ride instead,” Anda said.
“I’m sure we can work something out,” K.T. said.
For a heart-stopping moment, Wendy imagined spending other days off with him. Then, she told herself to settle down, because that would not happen. After she told him about Betty’s letter, he might not want to be her friend. Not want to give her a ride anywhere. “Thank you again for lunch. It was delicious,” she said as she stepped off the porch. Despite her self-talk, her heart was still thudding, because K.T. was right beside her.
They walked to the jeep, and climbed in. Wendy tried her hardest to not look at him, because there was still enough commotion going on inside her, yet lost her battle when he didn’t start the engine.
He was looking her way and grinning.
Her heart flipped and she shook her head, giving up on herself. “Thank you for the surprise. It was wonderful to see Anda and Pearl.”
“You’re welcome.” He started the engine. “Where to now? We still have a few hours before sunset,” he said. “Unless you have something to do?”
“No,” she replied, “but...do you?”
“No.”
He backed the jeep out of the driveway. “Let’s drive over to Pearl City, see if the Monkey Bar is open.”
Wendy had heard of the Pearl City Tavern, which people called the Monkey Bar, but had not visited it. “We are still under prohibition,” she said. “That’s what the last notice said. Until stores can be replenished from the mainland.”
“I know, we’ll just have a soda pop, or even coffee. Surely, they’ll have that.” His brows creased together as he glanced her way. “Sorry. I can just take you home.”
“No,” she said, too fast and quick, because the idea of disappointing him had made her stomach sink. “I’d like to see the Monkey Bar, and soda or coffee would be fine.”
“We don’t have to. I’ve already taken up enough of your day.”
“No, really. I don’t have anything to do.” She laid a hand on his arm, and the same tingles as when he held her hand shot up her arm. Why was it that she could touch him as a patient day in and day out, yet now, as a friend, as a man, her insides went into chaos at the slightest touch, or look? Maybe it was a warning sign, like the alert sirens, telling her that she cared too much about him and had to stop. She’d already told herself that much, yet, even knowing that, she said, “I’ve wanted to see Pearl City.”
“You’re sure?” he asked.
She swallowed the lump in her throat. It was as if he had some kind of magnetism inside him that her insides were attracted to and it took a defined force to pull them apart. She removed her hand from his forearm and ran it over the skirt of her dress to ease the heat pooled in her palm. “Yes, I’m sure.”
Maybe not falling in love wasn’t as easy as she thought. Not when it came to him.