Twenty-one

How often Jimmy had dreamed of this moment. Tentative, he touched his lips to hers, fearful it was a dream yet. But when Imogene’s arms tightened around his neck, he knew this was no dream.

He held her close, feeling at last her softness in his embrace. He tasted the sweetness of her lips. He stroked the strands of silken hair cascading through his fingers and breathed in the exotic fragrance of her. He loved her with his whole heart. With every fiber of his being he loved her. For the rest of his life he wanted to be with her, protect her, hold her close as he was doing now.

“Oh, Imogene,” he breathed. “Oh, my darling.” Reluctantly he pulled back, overwhelmed by the depth of feelings greater than he’d even imagined.

❧

Unable to sleep, Imogene lay on her cot in the slumbering dorm waiting for dawn when she would give Becky the news. She touched her lips, tender from so many kisses. Should she have allowed them? She hadn’t refused.

Though she still harbored some small concerns about Jimmy, her trust had largely been restored. How could it be otherwise, after what he’d done for her family? And, although the mere thought of his broad shoulders and kind, handsome face brought palpitations to her heart, she hastened to remind herself that there had always been far more to him than that.

As the pale light of dawn filtered through the high dorm window, her roommates began to stir. Cluny yawned and stretched and, as usual, reached for a tissue into which she honked indelicately. At their mother’s urging, the twins stumbled out of bed and down the hall to be first in the bathroom. Miss Goldie threw back her covers; Becky pulled hers up over her head.

Imogene shook her shoulder. “Becky, get up.”

Her sister groaned and rolled over onto her side.

“You’ve got to hurry. You’re getting out of here,” Imogene whispered.

“I’m what?” Becky sat up.

“Shh,” Imogene whispered and motioned for Miss Goldie to join them. The three huddled together as Imogene told them quietly of the plan.

“But I can’t go. What about Daddy?” Becky said.

“What about your baby?” Miss Goldie ran her hand down Becky’s tousled hair. “Your father will survive, but if you were to get sick, your baby might not.”

“What about both of you?”

“We don’t have Greek husbands,” Imogene said.

“But I’ll miss you,” Becky said, her voice uncertain but beginning to relent.

“Not when you get a comfortable bed, clean sheets, and a room of your own,” Imogene said. “Besides, you can see me as often as you want. All you have to do is show up at the gate with goodies. So far the Japanese have been very lenient about that.”

Becky nodded. “But why didn’t you tell me about this before?”

“I didn’t know if it could be pulled off. But, thanks to Jimmy, it’s happening.”

Miss Goldie wagged her head and patted Imogene’s hand. “I hate to say I told you so, but I always saw the goodness in that young man.”

Imogene smiled. “So you did, Miss Goldie.” She turned to her sister. “Jimmy said the fewer folks who know you’re leaving, the better, so whatever you take must fit into a shoe box. The rest you can buy once you’re out. Now hustle. Gloria will be here any minute.”

“Gloria? What does she have to do with this?”

Imogene shrugged. “When I find out, I’ll let you know,” she whispered.

A few minutes later, as everyone hurried past on their way to roll call, Gloria waited impatiently for Imogene, Miss Goldie, and Becky to exchange their tearful good-byes.

Gloria took Becky’s arm. “You two better get a move on,” she said to Imogene and Miss Goldie, “or you’ll be late for roll call, and that won’t do anybody any good.”

A minute later Imogene slipped breathlessly into her place in line, returning a nod to Jimmy’s questioning glance. From down the row she caught Angier Duke’s curious stare. Hastily, he averted his eyes.

Later that morning, as Imogene was on her way to see her father in the camp hospital, Angier intercepted her.

“Ah, the mailman,” Imogene said, not nearly as excited to see him as Daisy’s return address on the package he handed her.

“I try to be of help.” Angier lowered his eyes modestly. “And it gives me a good feel for what’s going on in the camp. I’m thinking of running for the executive committee. I hope I’ll have your support.”

“Hmm,” Imogene murmured, continuing to walk.

As always, Angier fell into step beside her. “I’m hoping you haven’t entirely given up the idea of accompanying our chorus.”

As always, Imogene accelerated her pace. “I’m afraid my decision will have to wait, now that I’m teaching and with my father sick and all.”

Angier hustled along beside her. After a couple of minutes of mutual silence, he said abruptly, “I thought you and that Jap were on the outs.”

Imogene’s stomach muscles wrenched. “Jap? Whom are you referring to, Angier?” she said sweetly.

“You know very well, Imogene.”

They had reached the hospital. “I’m not even going to dignify that with a response,” she said over her shoulder as she ran up the steps. It was hard to have Christian thoughts about such an obsequious little snoop. As she walked down the hall, she couldn’t help wondering how much Angier knew.

She peeked into her father’s room. The light was dim, except for the single beam that shone on an old New Yorker magazine from which Miss Goldie was reading aloud.

Imogene’s heart lurched. Her once-robust father looked so terribly thin and pale against the white sheets. She couldn’t remember ever seeing him sick before, let alone in a hospital bed.

“Hi, Daddy. How are you feeling?”

He shielded his squinting eyes. “Hi, Sweetheart. I’m coming along.” His speech was thick and slow. She had to lean down to hear him. “Goldie told me about Rebecca.”

“Jimmy was the one who arranged it. Without him, it never could have happened.”

Her father managed a small smile. “I hate to say I—”

“I know, ‘I told you so.’ I’ve heard that song before.” She glanced at Miss Goldie and sat down on the edge of the bed. “Look—I got a package from Daisy.” She began to pull off the brown paper wrapping.

“She’s a good friend, too,” her father said.

“The best.” Imogene folded the wrapping for the children’s art teacher and rolled up the twine to give to Betty Norton, the twins’ mother, who used it to knit afghans. Nothing in the camp was wasted.

Opening the package, Imogene pulled out a box of See’s chocolates. “Daisy has her priorities straight—that’s for sure. Let’s see what else is in here. Mixed nuts. That’s good—and some dried fruit.” She rummaged around and pulled out a couple of paperback novels. “There has to be a letter here somewhere.” She rummaged through the packing material and pulled out an envelope. She tore it open and began reading the note silently to herself.

“Oh, no. Her brother Court’s been wounded.” Imogene read aloud then: “ ‘Court was the only member of his platoon to survive, so even though he was wounded, he’s lucky to be alive. It’s terrible. The doctors can’t seem to find what’s wrong with him, but he can’t walk. They haven’t given up hope, nor have I, but sadly Court seems to have. At any rate, the war is over for him.’ ”

Imogene continued. “ ‘It is a sad time, Imo, but we have each other. And I believe with all my heart that God is watching over us.’ ”

Blinking back tears, Imogene folded the letter and stuffed it back in its envelope. Someday this awful war would be over. Where would they all be then? Would she be with Jimmy? Would they go back to America together? She knew she could never recapture the past, even there. Things might look the same, but they would be different. Just as with Court, the scars of war didn’t always show.

For several minutes none of them spoke; then Imogene sighed and began to repack the package to carry back to the dorm.

“Gloria stopped in to see how your father was doing,” Miss Goldie said.

“Really?”

Miss Goldie nodded. “There was a nurse in here at the time who’s a friend of hers.”

It’s nice to know she has a few lady friends, too. A very unchristian thought that Imogene couldn’t suppress.

“Gloria, the poor woman. She lost her fiancé in that first attack of the invasion. It seems they were to be married the following week. Karen—that’s the name of the nurse—said Gloria completely changed after that. It’s as if she doesn’t care whether she lives or dies.”

“How tragic.” No wonder Jimmy said she needed their prayers. Judge not, that ye be not judged. The Bible was filled with lessons she needed to learn, Imogene thought, feeling guilty for her unkind thoughts about Gloria.

Even so, it was no secret Gloria had been more than friendly with some of the officers—even the commandant—and in the back of Imogene’s mind, she still couldn’t help wondering about Jimmy’s relationship with her.