Words failed me, and he rushed on.
“I’ve gotten involved in some research here,” he said. “You know, into the cause of infantile paralysis? And the various forms of treatment? It’s so important. You understand, don’t you?”
“You said you’d be home tomorrow.” I heard the slightest break in my voice and hoped he hadn’t noticed. I would not be a baby.
“I know, and I’m sorry, but this isn’t the sort of thing that can be put off,” he said. “The work has to happen while the polio virus is still active in the area. Plus most of the other personnel have had to go back to their jobs, but since I’m not practicing yet, I’m free to stay.”
“What if our wedding were tomorrow?” I tested. “Would you still stay there?”
He hesitated as though he couldn’t believe I’d actually asked that question, and I felt ashamed for doubting him.
“I’m sorry,” I said. “I know you’d come home.”
“Of course I would.”
“Maybe I could come there? I have the weekend off, plus my Monday classes don’t start till afternoon.”
Again that hesitation. I squeezed the phone cord, waiting tensely for his answer.
“Honey,” he said. “Do you know how long that would take you? First, it’s nearly impossible to get a train reservation with the way they’re moving the troops around. Even if you could get a reservation, you’d have to spend twenty hours on the train. And once you got here, I don’t have any place for you to stay. I’m in a boardinghouse, remember? Plus I’ll be working all hours of the day and into the night.”
For the first time in our long relationship, I wondered if he might be seeing someone else. The thought felt like a knife in my chest. He couldn’t be, though. Not Vincent. We’d been apart too long. I was losing my memory of who he truly was. I was letting myself get bitter.
“All right,” I said, then before I could stop myself, I added, “I’d ask when you’ll be coming home, but it doesn’t really matter what you say, does it? You’ll just change the date as it approaches.”
“Tess,” he chided. “That’s not like you.”
“I know.” He was right. It wasn’t like me, but I couldn’t help but feel hurt that I seemed to be last of his priorities.
“Look, I need to get off, darling,” he said. “Someone else wants to use this phone. Give me two more weeks here, all right? I promise, I’ll come home then, no matter what’s going on here. Just remember that you and I have our whole lives together. Ten years from now, you’ll look back on these few weeks and laugh at how insecure you sound. Keep your chin up for me now, all right, sweetheart?”
“All right,” I said after a moment. “I love you.”
“I love you too,” he said, “and don’t you ever forget it.”
3
By the middle of October, Vincent still wasn’t home. I sat with Gina in her bedroom, both of us in our dungarees and cotton shirts as we smoked cigarettes and drank Pepsi Cola on her twin beds. She’d added a shot of whiskey to my Pepsi. “For your nerves,” she’d said.
I usually loved sitting in Gina’s room. It hadn’t changed since she was a little girl and the pink and white striped curtains and ruffled pink bed skirt were a sweet counterpoint to our cigarettes and whiskey. Today, though, even Gina’s room gave me little comfort.
She lit another Chesterfield and turned to face me.
“It’s time you opened your eyes, Tess,” Gina said after I told her that Vincent had postponed coming home yet again. “He’s seeing someone. Even Vincent Russo is a man, not a saint.”
“I don’t believe he’d ever cheat on me,” I said. Most of the time, I didn’t. Only when I was lying in bed after another day of not hearing from him by phone or letter did I give in to any doubt about his fidelity. During daylight hours when I was happily absorbed in my nursing program, I knew it was me and me alone that he loved. Nighttime, though, was a different matter.
“It’s not so terrible, though, honey.” Gina brushed a lock of her dirty-blond hair from her cheek, then took a drag on her cigarette. “He’ll be back,” she said. “He’s probably just nervous about getting married and needs one last fling. Let him get it out of his system and then he’ll be yours for the rest of your life.”
“He’s not having a fling,” I said, though there wasn’t much power behind my words. I hated that I felt any doubt about him at all.
“I think you’re kidding yourself,” she said. “Do you think for one minute Mac hasn’t had some fun while he’s over there?”
I was shocked. “Has he told you that?”
She shrugged. “He doesn’t have to.” She sipped from her glass, then set it back on the night table between the beds. “He’s a man,” she said. “It’s different for them. They can’t go that long without a girl.”
“Doesn’t the thought of him being with someone else bother you?”
“I just don’t think about it,” she said. “He’s fighting for his country. It has to be terrible, what he’s going through. I wouldn’t blame him if he could find a little pleasure.”
I felt a chill run up my spine. “You’re a lot more forgiving than I am,” I said.
“You know what we should do?” Gina stubbed out her cigarette and sat up straight, crossing her legs Indian-style on the bed. I’d known her a long time and recognized the look of mischief in her eyes.
“What?” I asked warily.
“We should get out of here for the weekend,” she said. “Let’s see if we can get on a train to Washington!”
“What if Vincent calls while I’m away?”
She scowled. “What’s the likelihood of that?” she asked. “You said he hardly ever calls. And you can’t live your life waiting for him to get in touch. Come on. Let’s do it.”
Washington, D.C., was only an hour train ride from Baltimore. I’d been to the city several times to tour the museums and once to see a play, but never overnight. “Where would we stay?” I asked. “Washington will be a zoo these days with all the government workers and military and—”
“My aunt has that tourist home near Capitol Hill, remember?” she interrupted me. “Maybe she has a vacancy. Let me call her and see if she can put us up. It wouldn’t even cost us anything.”
“I think I just want to stay home and sulk this weekend,” I said, lighting another cigarette.
“No you don’t!” She leaned forward, riveting me with her blue eyes. “And really, Tess. You’re usually so tough and I love you but now you’re starting to get on my nerves with your whining. Think about it, will you? My boyfriend’s in harm’s way every minute of every day. He can’t even tell me where he is. His letters come through V-mail after the censors have gone over them. His life isn’t his own right now. Do you hear me complaining? No. Your boyfriend is a few hours away doing something he loves. So you have to stop this griping. All right?”
I was taken aback, first by her criticism and second by the fact that she was right. I’d become self-absorbed in the last few weeks. Gina probably needed an escape for the weekend even more than I did.
“You’re right,” I said. “I’m sorry. Let’s go to Washington.”