Sorrento Girl Page 18

  “I’m not sure what to think.” Paul looked down at his coffee and swirled it in the cup. “I’m due back in New York on Wednesday. I have a plane to catch tomorrow. I’d heard the rumors about you and the basketball player before I saw you with him. People said you’d moved on. I didn’t want to believe it. But then again, we’re not even dating, so why should I care?”

  “Would you like to meet him? Would you like to meet Pete? Would that help?”

  “I don’t have time right now. There’s a lot of business I need to attend to before I leave tomorrow,” Paul said. Then his forehead furrowed, as though he were rethinking her invitation. “Thank you. I’m sure he’s a nice guy.”

  Ann sensed that Paul needed some time to think and that now wasn’t the time for him to shake hands with Pete over a cup of coffee. All she could do was wait. Changing the subject, she asked about his job.

  “The bureau brought me back from London two weeks ago because there wasn’t much happening. Some in England are calling it the “phony war.” I’m glad I was back in New York when I got the news about my grandma, though, or I wouldn’t have been able to make it home on time for her service. I’ll find out what my new assignment is when I get back to New York.”

  “Do you enjoy traveling?”

  “I do. It’s certainly more interesting than what I was writing about in Portland.”

  Ann already knew this, as it was something he’d written about in his letters. She was stalling for time and trying to ease the awkwardness of the conversation. “Well, thank you for meeting me here today. It’s good to see you again, and I’m sorry it’s not under different circumstances. I had tea with your grandma a few months ago. Did she tell you that? She was a lovely lady, and it meant a great deal to me that she would be so kind-hearted toward me after what happened.”

  Paul’s face relaxed, and a faint smile appeared. “Yes, she told me. I’ll drive you back to the Sorrento now if you like.”

  When Ann said goodbye, she wondered if she was doing so for the last time.

  ***

  On Valentine’s Day, Ann did her best to pretend that it didn’t bother her at all, seeing many of her friends receive flowers and candy when she didn’t. She checked for new mail every day, but she hadn’t heard anything from Paul since their meeting at the diner. When he dropped her off that day to say goodbye, he was polite but cool.

  Ann was studying in her room when Helen entered, returning from her afternoon classes. “Here, I picked up your mail for you,” she said, placing a postcard on the desk. It was from Paul. On the front was a picture of the Statue of Liberty. On the back was a short note scribbled in his familiar messy style.

  Dear Ann,

  They’re sending me back to London for the next few months. I hope all is well in Seattle.

  -Paul

  That was it. Ann was disappointed. Helen, who was fixing her hair in the mirror, saw in the reflection, the disappointment on Ann’s face as she dropped the postcard. She didn’t ask her to explain. Instead, Helen put down her brush, opened a drawer, and took out a chocolate bar. She handed it to Ann with a gentle smile.

  Thirty-One

  Apple blossoms sweetly scented the warm spring air, and the white flowers drifted about like confetti. Ann was taking Noel for a walk around the irrigation canals on her first morning back in Wenatchee for spring break. It was hard to deny that her dog was slowing down with age. Their pace was slow, but there was no rush. The whole day was free.

  It had been a busy semester, and Ann was tired. She had thrown herself into her classes and her volunteer work at the soup kitchen, welcoming any distraction, which helped her forget the ache she felt whenever she thought of Paul. After receiving his postcard, Ann hadn’t written back. As little as the last note had said, the message had seemed clear enough. Paul had said goodbye. This time, most likely, for good.

  As far as Ann knew, Paul was still in London. The reports from Europe were getting uglier with each passing day. Germany did not stop with the invasion of Poland. Norway and Denmark were now occupied too. But so far, England seemed safe.

  When Ann circled back around toward where her father’s truck was parked, she lifted Noel and put her in the cab. Her father had given her use of the vehicle today, and she had promised to practice her driving on the private country roads around the orchards he managed. She had been ready last summer to take her test, but those plans had been forgotten after she’d called off the wedding. Her driving skills were a little rusty, but it was time. She’d get her license this week while she was home in Wenatchee.

  The engine sputtered a bit, and the gears made an awful sound when Ann had trouble shifting, but it didn’t take long before she got the hang of it. Driving past her neighbor’s house, she spotted Marty outside, sitting in a rocker on his porch. He waved when he saw her and grinned. Marty, who had always seemed old to Ann, was an affable, toothless giant of a man, and a perpetual bachelor. He was also a pilot. When Ann was younger, he took her for thrilling rides in his biplane, a yellow De Havilland Tiger Moth he used for crop dusting.

  Ann had loved the feeling of peering over the valley from high above, and she’d imagined herself as her Amelia Earhart, fearless and brave.

  When she reached the end of the dusty road, she turned around and decided to stop at Marty’s to say hello. It had been a long time. After parking the truck at the end of his long driveway, Ann got out with Noel and greeted Marty’s old basset hound, Hank.

  “Marty! How are you?” Ann asked, walking toward the porch.

  Marty reached into an icebox that was next to him and offered a Coke to Ann. “Isn’t this a nice surprise! I’m hanging in there, dear. Is college in the big city going well? How’s life treating you?”

  Ann gratefully took the Coke and settled into the empty rocking chair next to Marty. For the next hour, they sat together, gazing toward the road, catching up on each other’s news. She told him about Paul, the broken engagement, letters, the misunderstanding, and the silence that had ensued afterward. When it was time to go, Ann hugged Marty and said goodbye. “I’ll see you around,” she said.

  “I’m proud of you, girl. You’re a strong one. You’ve always known what you wanted, and I’ve always thought you’d go far. Maybe you should think about sending that boy another letter. It sounds like bad timing has been part of your problems. Don’t give up.” Marty was never shy about sharing his thoughts. He patted the hood of the truck after he finished giving his advice, like a judge with a gavel.

  ***

  Sophia, the new neighbor, popped over from her house next door and joined Ann and her father for dinner that night. They shared a chicken pot pie that Ann’s father had prepared (he was becoming a much better cook in Ann’s absence) along with some strawberry shortcake that Sophia had brought over.

  Ann liked Sophia. She could tell her father did too. The woman’s friendly chatter was a welcome addition to the dinner table. It soon became apparent that the two neighbors enjoyed Saturday evening meals together regularly. Sophia had been a teacher years ago, and Ann was interested in learning more about her experiences. The group lingered at the table long after dinner was over, enjoying each other’s company. When it started to get dark outside, Sophia offered to take the plates to the kitchen and make some tea.

  Smiling at her father, Ann told him she thought his neighbor was pretty. Embarrassed, he pretended not to hear.

  ***

  Ann returned to Seattle the next week with a feeling of fresh resolve to finish the school year strong. With the extra credits she’d picked up last semester, she was past the halfway point to getting her degree. She was well-rested from her vacation, and she’d also managed to accomplish something she was proud of in her time away. Ann now had in her possession, a new driver’s license. She was too frugal to spend any money from her trust on a car, even though her Aunt Rose had assured her it was fine. But she liked knowing she could if she needed to. The streetcars worked just fine for now.

  The r
omance advice from her neighbor, Marty, had been considered, and Ann decided she’d write one more letter to Paul before giving up on the idea of a reconciliation. She tried not to think about the fact that this advice was coming from an older man who didn’t seem to have a whole lot of experience in the romance area. She was ready to throw caution to the wind.

  The outside terrace on the seventh floor at the Sorrento sounded like an excellent place to sit and write. It was a beautiful, warm, sunny day, so Ann gathered up her books, pens, paper, and sunglasses from her room before going upstairs to find a comfortable lounge chair. The only other person on the terrace that day was Peggy, who seemed to have had the same idea. Peggy was always writing letters to Joe, who was still stationed in Hawaii. They’d gotten engaged on New Year’s Day that year, while Joe was home for a visit.

  “Peggy, hello! Mind if I join you?” Ann asked.

  Peggy looked up and smiled, patting the chair next to her. “Ann! Of course not, sit down!”

  Ann wondered if Peggy and Joe had hit any bumps in the road throughout their long-distance romance, but she didn’t ask. The two women sat next to another in companionable silence, each with their thoughts focused on the men they loved, who were thousands of miles away.

  When Ann was finished writing, she said a prayer and hoped for the best. She wasn’t even sure of where to send the letter. Paul might be in New York by now. She’d send the note there. Hopefully, somehow, it would reach him.

  ***

  In May, Ann received a reply from Paul.

  Dear Ann,

  I’m writing to let you know that I’m still in London, but I received your letter. It was the best thing ever. I love you. My beautiful girl, you fill my thoughts always. Life without you is not a life I want. I’m sorry for not writing sooner. I let common sense get away from me, and I convinced myself after seeing you last time that the hope I had for us, for a future with you, wasn’t real.

  You told me I was wrong, and I believe you. Work has kept me busy. I miss you, and I eagerly anticipate hearing from you again.

  With all my love,

  Paul

  p.s. Please send me a picture of you.

  ***

  “One more week!” Helen plopped onto her bed with a dramatic sigh. The women had been preparing for their class finals, and they were all tired from the extra studying. It was Saturday night, and Peggy, Nora, and Ann were all crammed around the mirror in Ann and Helen’s room, making final touch-ups to their hair and makeup before they all headed out together for the last dance of the school year.

  Ann finished applying her lipstick and moved away from the mirror, making room for Helen. She was ready to go. Picking the newspaper off her desk, Ann scanned the headlines while waiting for her friends to finish up. She had been following the news in Europe more closely since Paul had been assigned to the AP London office. The mail service was excruciatingly slow, so staying current on world events was Ann’s way to reassure herself that Paul was okay. He was embedded with the British Expeditionary Forces, who, until recently, hadn’t seen a lot of action.

  Ann hadn’t heard from him in several weeks. In the last few days, some stories about a large contingent of B.E.F. and the French troops began appearing in the papers. It was less than reassuring. German forces trapped the Allied soldiers on the coast of France near a place called Dunkirk. Today’s headline read, “B.E.F. Evacuation is Proceeding | Withdrawal Battle Raging.” Ann prayed for the safety of those men (she prayed a lot lately), and she did her best to convince herself that Paul was working in London, or even better, on his way back to New York.

  “Don’t worry so much. He’s okay,” Peggy said, observing Ann. “We’re going to have fun tonight!” Peggy’s compassionate tone and smile offered some comfort to Ann. If anyone understood how she felt, it was Peggy.

  “You’re right. I’m sure he is. I need to quit reading the papers so much.”

  ***

  Ann’s father was waiting in the lobby for her. He had driven to Seattle to pick her up from the Sorrento and take her home for the summer. Giving Helen a big hug, she said goodbye and looked around the room one last time. Knowing she was coming back in the fall made this departure a lot easier than the one she’d faced in the previous year. But the trade-off had been painful. She missed Paul. And she was still waiting for news that he was safe.

  Ann stopped by the front desk one last time to turn in her key and check for any mail.

  “This came for you, miss,” the desk clerk said as he handed her a letter.

  Relief poured over her. The bright blue and white border of the envelope told her everything she needed to know before she even saw the return address. It was from London—from Paul.

  Her father helped Ann with her luggage, and he raised a questioning eyebrow when he saw the letter in her hands.

  “I have a lot to tell you!” Ann said as she kissed him on the cheek.

  In the car, Ann told her father everything. He didn’t seem as surprised as she thought he’d be.

  “I’m happy for you,” he said. “I've got some news as well. Sophia and I are getting married before you go back to school.”

  “Oh! That’s great! I knew it!” Ann felt light and happy. It was turning out to be a good day.

  After some time, when the conversation had finally died down, Ann opened the letter from Paul and read it. It was dated May 2, 1940—an entire month ago. As usual, he downplayed the dangers of his location. He loved his job, he missed her, and he expected to come home for a visit sometime in September. Ann would have to try hard not to wish the summer away. She couldn’t wait to see him.

  Thirty-Two

  For the rest of the summer, Ann worked with her father in the orchards. She picked and sorted cherries throughout June. It was tedious and hard work, which only made Ann feel more grateful for the opportunity she’d been given to go to college. She loved the valley she’d grown up in, and Ann enjoyed spending time with her father outside, but she could do without the aching arms and sore back at the end of each day.

  Ann’s father reminded her that she didn’t need to be working so hard and that she could go home and relax, but she persisted. She tried to stay busy because it was the only way she could take her mind off the worry Ann felt when she thought of Paul being in a war zone.

  By July, the peaches were ready to be harvested, and Ann got to work on picking those. The news from Europe was disturbing. Italy had joined the war with Germany. Norway, Belgium, Holland, Denmark, and France had all been occupied and were now under German rule. The Germans were dropping bombs on British ports. The “phony war” as some called it, was very real—and dangerous. Letters from Paul were few and far between. She treasured each one of them, keeping them in a box under her bed, re-reading them often.

  In August, Ann busied herself by helping Sophia with the canning. Together, they pickled cucumbers, made peach jam, and chopped many tomatoes for sauce. Sophia was just as chatty as Ann. The two of them got along swimmingly, and Ann appreciated the distraction Sophia’s conversation provided as the bad news from Europe continued to pour in. Ann also took great comfort in the fact that her father had found such a perfect companion to spend time with the rest of his days.

  On a hot Saturday in late August, Ann accompanied her father and Sophia to the courthouse, where she served as a witness to their small wedding ceremony in front of the judge. It was simple but beautiful. Sophia wore a pale blue suit with a matching pillbox hat, and she carried a bouquet of pink roses that Ann had put together for her. Ann’s father wore his only suit and a huge smile. Afterward, they all went to the Windmill Restaurant to celebrate.

  The next morning, Ann returned to Seattle on the train. Classes were starting next week, and she was excited to move back into the Sorrento. King Street Station was a welcome sight. Ann stepped down onto the platform and observed the crowds of people with a sigh of contentment. She loved the city.

  When Ann arrived at the Sorrento, there were already a couple
of messages waiting for her. One was from Mrs. Delzer, asking her to come by for a visit once she was settled in, and one from Nora, letting her know what room to find her in. There were no letters from Paul. Was he already on his way home?

  Quickly putting her things away in her room on the fourth floor, Ann surveyed the new space with delight. The setup seemed similar to the ones she’d had in the years prior, but being on a higher level meant an even better view of the city and Puget Sound. She felt lucky to be sharing a room with Helen once more. Helen’s suitcase sat in front of the closet, waiting to be unpacked. Where could she be? Ann decided to walk over to the Delzer’s house and see if they were home.

  Barbara Delzer was in the front garden cutting flowers when Ann walked up and greeted her. “Ann! You’re back! How nice to see you. Did you have a good summer?”

  Just then, David and Sally spotted Ann too. Their hugs and excitement over seeing her made Ann feel good.

  “My father married his neighbor a couple of days ago, so yes, I’d say that made for a good summer,” Ann said.

  “Oh? How romantic! She’s someone you like?”

  “Oh, yes. She’s wonderful. They’re both very happy. Other than that, I picked a lot of cherries and peaches.”

  “Here, let me pick some flowers for you to take back to your room,” Barbara offered. When she finished, Ann followed her into the house and greeted the other children. Billy and Margaret were in the kitchen, washing and drying the dishes together. Barbara smiled with pride. “I’ve put them to work. They’re a great help around the house, but the work never ends. If you want to take up your old job again, it’s all yours. We’d love to have you back!”