68
“Should we wake her?” Vivian whispered.
In his brimmed hat and coat, Gene stood beside Vivian in the doorway of Judith’s room. “Let’s let her sleep,” he answered, his reasoning obvious. Their little girl looked too peaceful to disturb at this hour. Outside her window, dusk had barely begun to lift.
“I’ll just kiss her good-bye,” Vivian said, unable to leave without this small token. They had spent not a single night apart since Judith was born.
Silently Vivian padded over to the crib, where the toddler lay on her back, arms spread wide. Her stuffed giraffe was tucked at her side. Its flimsy, spotted body was half covered by the very blanket that had swathed Judith when she had first come home from the hospital. The beginning of their lives together as a family.
Vivian leaned over the rail, hands covering the large buttons of her overcoat to prevent them from knocking against the crib. She touched her lips to the crown of Judith’s head, light as an angel’s kiss. “Sleep well, lovey bug,” she said in a hush, and had to resist the impulse to scoop her up and take her along.
This trip was not appropriate for Judith yet. But if all went well, someday she, too, would make the trek and meet the man who had gifted Vivian with the greatest treasure in the world: the life of her beautiful daughter.
“Vivi,” Gene whispered.
It was time to leave.
She exited the room in the same fashion she had entered, continuing into the hallway. Gene paused to send Judith a final loving look before closing the door without noise.
“I’ll get our suitcases,” he said, and headed to their bedroom. In the kitchen, Luanne was brewing a pot of coffee, filling the air with its rich aroma. She had arrived already dressed, but a scarf still covered her curlers.
“Sorry to make you come over so early,” Vivian said to her. “I would have preferred a later train, but you know your brother. He insisted we take the first one out.”
“It’s no trouble. Fred was up most of the night studying for his exams. I couldn’t sleep well anyway.”
In this moment, face-to-face with Luanne, an urge to tell the truth scaled the walls of Vivian’s conscience. Gene had insisted the arrangements he made were on the stipulation of keeping them confidential. He had assured his contact that even their families believed they were escaping to Cape Cod, to a secluded inn on the coast with no phones, no radio.
But what if Judith were to have an emergency?
Gene reappeared with two suitcases. “I’ll go flag us a cab.”
Vivian nodded.
“Thanks again for watching her, Lu,” he said.
“The pleasure’s all mine.”
He smiled at his sister before turning away and maneuvering the luggage out the door.
As Vivian snapped her handbag shut, she imagined her confession stored inside between her handkerchief and powder compact. The trip was too important to risk a cancellation of plans by saying too much. What’s more, to name the destination would require an explanation about Isaak. This would come in time, but not yet.
She pulled on her gloves and travel hat, and Luanne trailed her to the door. The departure now imminent, Vivian’s thoughts sprinted with any instructions she might have forgotten. “Now, did I tell you where to find the extra crib sheets?”
“You did. In the top of Judith’s closet.”
“Precisely. Oh, and for bath time, be sure to pull her out when the water’s cool. She’d let herself freeze to the bone if you let her.”
“I promise not to let her freeze to the bone.”
Vivian caught the teasing but was too focused to be playful. “Also, if she happens to run a temperature, you can use the thermometer in my bathroom drawer. But if the number doesn’t seem right, you can usually tell by putting your lips on her forehead. Either that, or-”
“My dearest sister, you will never make it to the shore at this rate.”
Vivian scrunched her nose. “Good grief, I’m being dreadful, aren’t I?”
“No. You’re being a mother. But don’t worry, I’ve read all eight pages of the notes you wrote down for me. And I promise you, for the next week Fred and I will take care of Judith as if she were our own.”
Vivian smiled and grasped Luanne’s arm. “I know you will.”
“Now, then. With that settled, you’d better get out there. My brother must be chomping at the bit. You two enjoy your belated honeymoon.”
“Thank you,” Vivian said, and embraced Luanne tightly. “Thank you for everything.”
On the tarmac, the propellers whirred into a thunderous spin. The Air Corps captain greeted Vivian and Gene at the door of the transport aircraft. Nervousness belied his firm tone. “We’re square after this, Sully,” he said to Gene, to which Gene agreed.
Vivian was curious about the favor being repaid, but those details were currently unimportant.
The airman relieved them of their suitcases. After storing the luggage for transit, he went up to the cockpit. Vivian followed Gene in taking a seat on the canvas bench that ran along the wall.
“Put this on,” Gene told her over the engines. “It’ll get cold.” She wrapped herself with the Army blanket he provided. He helped her cover the gap between her shoes and the hem of her trousers before donning his own blanket.
Behind them a row of oval windows were dotted by Thursday-morning rain.
The captain reappeared after presumably speaking to the small crew, perhaps delivering an enticement for their discreet cooperation. His rank was not high enough for him to have finagled the situation without being resourceful.
“Anybody asks,” he said loudly, “you two were never on this plane.”
Gene gave a thumbs-up that all was understood.
When the officer shot a glance at Vivian, she made a show of nodding in concurrence. A so-called pleasure trip to Frankfurt would never be permitted by usual Army protocol. Although it was a harmless cargo transfer, the only civilians likely allowed on such a flight were USO performers and members of the Red Cross. Her status as neither would incur even heftier consequences if anyone was caught.
The airman gave a final reminder. “My buddy, Wes, will meet you on the other side. He’ll get you back as scheduled. You miss that flight, you’re outta luck.”
“We’ll be there,” Gene told him.
The man shook his head, as though questioning his own sanity, and disembarked without another word.
Minutes later, with all the doors clamped shut, the plane started to move. Vivian shuddered and her body stiffened. Having never flown before, she hadn’t expected so much rumbling and creaking as their speed increased.
Gene slipped his hand around hers. “Don’t worry,” he said close to her ear. “I’ve got you.”
The assertion brought back a memory: It was their first official date. He had spoken those exact words as they hung on the Parachute Jump, side by side on a canvas seat like now, dangling over Steeplechase Park.
The revelation of just how far they had come made her smile despite her fears. “I love you,” she said, too quiet for him to hear, but clearly he read her lips, and he reciprocated with a kiss. Her heart brimmed with indescribable adoration for him, for their daughter, and for the blessing of every second they had been given together.
This was the feeling Vivian took with her, long after the plane soared for hours over the Atlantic, long after the burst from engine fires had woken them both from sleep, a malfunction that sent the transport sharply down, into the waves, deep into the ocean, too far for recovery.
In that slice of an instant, before panic faded to calm and resistance gave way to surrender, she gave no thought to how their disappearance would be explained; she had no knowledge that a storm off Cape Cod would help fabricate a tragedy, a convenient covering of military tracks. Her sole concern lay with Judith. The girl would grow up without parents, and yet she would still be nurtured and cared for by family, genuine people with good hearts. Yes, she would be fine, Vivian realized–just as she herself would be, so long as Gene was there.
I’ve got you, she heard in her mind, her hand still in his, and felt sheer peace from the love that would bind them till the end of time.