Love Finds You in Victory Heights, Washington (33 page)

Rosalie had placed her hand in his but paused before rising. “I will, but you have to promise to explain the third charm to me—tonight.” She touched the cool silver heart.

Kenny gazed into her eyes. “I promise,” he had spoken solemnly. “Tonight.”

But that had never happened. And even in the week of time together, she somehow never remembered to ask about it. After only a few minutes of dancing, everything changed.

Rosalie closed her eyes and was back there again. She’d been in Kenny’s arms in a slow dance, when out of the corner of her eye she’d seen Nick collapse, landing on top of his bass with a reverberating clang. The wound on his thigh had become infected, causing a fever.

They’d only learned later—after the doctor’s report—that it had been throbbing, incredibly painful, for the past week. Since the VA wouldn’t cover it, Nick had put on a brave face and had kept going.

Her stomach turned as she pushed the muffin away, remembering the sight of Nick’s wound as Kenny lifted his pant leg. Rosalie acted as Kenny’s nurse as he struggled to bring Nick back to consciousness and clean the oozing wound. Lanie had slouched on the other side, holding Nick’s hand, whispering encouraging words to him. Maybe Lanie was sincere in her feelings toward her fiancé Nick after all. With Lanie’s help, Kenny finally managed to get Nick to the car. Then Kenny left to drive him to the hospital.

Rosalie had leaned next to the open window of the Model A before he left.

“I’ll tell you all about that heart—my heart—soon.” Kenny’s hand gently traced the shape of her face.

Rosalie closed her eyes, relishing one last touch. “Take care of your friend,” she said, blanketing his hand. “The girls will give me a ride home, and I’m sure I’ll be seeing you soon enough. Will you call?”

“I promise. I’ll call you soon.”

After he left, Rosalie had fun with just the girls, but her thoughts always veered back to Kenny—and when she’d see him again.

Well, I did see him a lot that week, but now it’s been two weeks, and I’ve seen him how many times?
Twice. Once for a rushed Saturday morning breakfast at The Golden Nugget. And then for a backyard afternoon baseball game with every stray kid in the neighborhood. Rosalie smiled to herself recalling the littlest VanderLey boy scampering around the field—mostly in the wrong direction. Kenny had delighted in the little Dutch boy, grasping his towhead with his large hand and pointing him in the correct direction. Kenny also encouraged the older kids to help the young ones.
He’s like a coach to them
, Rosalie thought.
A father
.

On both occasions, with the Rosie the Riveter stories all researched and coming out weekly, Kenny had to leave early to chase after a story. Rosalie understood his work drove him. He’d craved opportunities to army-crawl his way to the top his whole life. He seemed even more driven now that his dad was around, taking it all in with pride. Plus, his visits to his father included touching base with Nick, who was also at the Naval Hospital. Kenny’s dad had reined in a favor to get him there, but Kenny didn’t know how Nick would be able to pay for the hospital bills.

Rosalie got up to start another pot boiling. Standing at the stove, the warmth of the gas flame radiated to her.

I’m grateful for the time I spent with him, Lord
. The kettle whistled, and she replenished her tea.
But I long for more.
She blew on her tea and snickered at herself.
I’m seeing him today.
She smiled as the anticipation of time with him percolated. Later after the film crew left, he’d promised to help her write her speech for the awards ceremony.

“Well, hey.” Lanie meandered into the kitchen, jarring Rosalie from her ponderings, and sat down at the chair next to her. Scraping the chair against the hardwood floor, Lanie fingered one of the photographs. “Landsakes, you’re gettin’ a bushel of attention these days, aren’t you?”

“Good morning,” Rosalie said with a welcoming grin. Over the last couple weeks, her opinion of Lanie had shifted from suspicion to appreciation. While the other girls slept, she and Lanie passed the midnight hours laughing, talking, and sharing heartfelt feelings—mostly about their men, Kenny and Nick. Rosalie unloaded her heart about feeling neglected by Kenny, and Lanie shared her concern over Nick’s health and need for medical care.

Rosalie and Birdie still prayed together before the others woke up, sometimes taking walks around Victory Heights and ending up sitting on the cedar-lined edge of the ravine. She confided in her best friend during these brief morning wanderings, but with Rosalie’s new schedule, the rest of their days were spent apart. At the plant, Birdie was partnered with Lanie now.

“Lots of attention I never asked for.” Rosalie circled back to the topic. “I suppose I don’t mind, though. It’s for a good cause, right?”

The sun angling in through the paned windows of the old house gleamed against the glossies on the table.

“Yeah, for your man.” Lanie grasped a strand of her shiny hair and twirled it between her fingers.

Rosalie shared her teabag with Lanie, then padded to the stove, returning with the kettle. “For my man?” She filled Lanie’s cup. “I like Kenny a lot, but I’m not doing it for him. I’m enduring all this humiliation to help recruit more lady workers to the plant. Get them involved.” She sighed as she sank back into her chair. “I hope it’s working.”

The richness in the colors of the brown wood, Lanie’s blue blouse, even the red in her bandanna in the photographs darkened as a cloud swept in front of the sun. Rosalie shivered.

“Well, it’s sure helping him.” Lanie flared a smile, then scooted her chair back, moseyed to the icebox, and lifted out a bottle of milk, fresh from the Smith Brothers Dairy. “You must be so happy for him. My uncle says since the Rosie the Riveter articles came out, the paper’s sales have doubled. Doubled! And Kenny’s getting all the big scoops now.”

Rosalie rubbed her arms. She wanted to be happy for Kenny, and she really was, but these “big scoops” made up part of the reason he hadn’t explained the heart on her bracelet—or shared any more intimate moments with her. She closed her eyes as the memory of his kiss wrapped around her.

Lanie plunked milk into her tea, then poured some into Rosalie’s without asking.

“I’m very proud of him.” Rosalie took a sip, despite her concern that the milk should be saved for the children. “He’s a good writer.”

Lanie sipped the daintiest taste, then sat back and twirled her hair again. “Do you think he’ll hang around after your articles are done?” She lifted an emery board from her pocket and filed her nails. “I mean, with all these great assignments, once you’re no longer the talk of the town,” she chuckled dismissively, “he won’t have an excuse to talk to you anymore. I know my uncle doesn’t want his reporters fraternizing—franchising as he says—with his sources.” She puffed dust from her nails and glanced up. “It’ll probably put an end to your little fling. Oh, well, right? It’s basically over anyway. I mean, when’s the last time you saw him?”

Rosalie placed the mug on the table and swallowed. She looked to Lanie’s sweet face and suddenly understood. Her father’s face filled her mind, but she quickly pushed it away.

Rosalie’s stomach sank. The platinum blond’s words caused her father’s broken promises and abandonment to scratch through her mind, leaving aching wounds along the way.

Would Kenny break her heart like her father had? She picked at a thumbnail.
No,
she told herself.
He’s nothing like Pops.
But then, Kenny had broken promises—more than one.

“I promise,” he’d said. “I’ll tell you about the heart soon.” When he backed out, he cited valid excuses—power outage, a factory fire, even a Jap sub spotted in the Columbia River down by the Oregon border.

Pops also had weaved the most convincing excuses. He was good at inventing stories. After all, he was a reporter.
Maybe I shouldn’t have trusted Kenny. Oh, Lord, why’d I let myself trust
…

Rosalie strained to push away the doubts, but they still roiled, causing her stomach to ache. Kenny had the best intentions to keep that promise.
He still will. I know he will.

Lanie must’ve read Rosalie’s struggle because she returned the emery board to her pocket, then reached her arm across Rosalie’s photos and lightly gripped her hand.

“Oh dear.” Her eyes dripped sympathy. “What was I thinkin’? I shouldn’t have said those things. My brain’s not kickin’ on all cylinders, like my daddy used to say.” She made a quirky face. “Of course Kenny will hang around after the stories are done, no matter what my uncle says. Kenny wouldn’t leave you high and dry. I can be so insensitive sometimes. I’ve been prayin’ about that.”

Rosalie patted Lanie’s hand, which was covering hers. “It’s okay, Lanie. I know you didn’t mean to hurt me, but you should know Kenny’s not like that. He wouldn’t hurt me for all the salmon in Puget Sound.” Rosalie forced her voice to portray strength, confidence, hoping not only to dispel Lanie’s doubts, but also her father’s voice gnawing at the borders of her mind.
Not all reporters are like my father.
And, no matter what, Rosalie needed to cling to that truth.

Lanie finished the last swallow of her tea, then ambled to the sink. “I know you’re right, Rosalie. I’ve never seen Kenny behave in any less than an honorable way. He wouldn’t hurt you. I’m sure you’ll be together again soon.” She moved back to Rosalie and rubbed her tense shoulders. Rosalie tried to believe Lanie’s words. Tried to relax and let the knots be rubbed away.

After a few minutes, Lanie returned to the chair next to Rosalie. “Will you forgive your thoughtless friend?” Her pink lips curved in a sweet smile.

Returning the smile, Rosalie touched her friend’s arm. “Of course.”

As if signaling the end of their conversation, the front door groaned open, and footfalls approached the kitchen.

“Thank you, Rosalie. I really am sorry.” Perking to an upright posture, Lanie moved to the pegged rack where the housemates hung their bandannas. Removing her pink one, Lanie flipped her head upside down to get her hands on her hair. “I’ve got to take off. Don’t want to be late for work, you know.” Winding her hair into a ball, she then secured the bandanna.

Rosalie cocked her head. “All the other girls already left. You probably missed the bus.” She grimaced empathetically.

Then her eyes fell on the source of the sounds from the other room. A splash of giddiness slapped Rosalie. “Good morning, Miss Tilly.” She rose and gave her favorite mentor a big hug. “How wonderful to see you.”

“I’m off!” Lanie patted Rosalie’s back. “My uncle let me borrow his car indefinitely.” She tilted her head and grinned like a spoiled schoolgirl. “That ol’ bus takes so much longer. I’ll still make it on time.”

Miss Tilly peered around the room. “Well, who’s gonna be ridin’ with you?”

“Oh, I’m just headin’ out for a solo flight today.”

Miss Tilly’s lips turned downward. “Young lady, you don’t mean to say you’re drivin’ from here all the way to the plant all by yourself in that car, do you?”

Lanie shook her head innocently and shrugged. “Why not?”

Rosalie’s heartbeat pulsed. She knew what Miss Tilly was thinking. The same thoughts had darted through her mind as well.

Brandishing a finger like a sword, Miss Tilly began the onslaught. “Haven’t you seen those posters of a young man ridin’ alone in a car—but really Adolf Hitler himself is sittin’ next to him? If you ride alone, missy, you’re stealin’ gasoline right out of one of our boys’ airplanes.”

Lanie’s already fair cheeks grew even more pallid. “Why I never,” she muttered before being rescued by Kenny, who was entering the room.

“What’s going on with you chickens?” he asked, a chipper grin filling his face. “You birds engaged in a good bout of chitter-chatter?”

Without a word, Lanie slipped her keys from a nail near the doorway and slunk out of the kitchen, hustling to the front door.

Kenny wagged his head after her, then looked back at Rosalie and Miss Tilly. “What’s wrong with her?”

Miss Tilly tsked her tongue. “Irresponsible girl. Young people these days.” She exhaled as if expelling any trace of Lanie from the room, then sandwiched Rosalie’s hand between hers. “I know you’d never think of doing that, darlin’. Such a waste.” Her wrinkled hand tapped against Rosalie’s. “Now, how’s my girl?”

“I’m well, Miss Tilly. Busy, but it’s for a good cause.”

A cloud like the one that had draped the sun dampened Miss Tilly’s twinkling eyes. “I hope you’re not
too
busy, darlin’. It’s not healthy for you—or your new relationship.” Her gaze flicked to Kenny. “You’re takin’ good care of my girl, aren’t you, Kenneth? Don’t let her wear herself out, ya hear.”

Kenny patted Miss Tilly’s back. “Yes, Aunt Tilly.” His gaze landed on Rosalie. “I’ll cherish her with all my heart.”

Warmth seeped up her arms, and she hugged them to her. Rosalie wondered if his loving words and infiltrating gazes would ever cease to make her swoon.

“Okay, I’m countin’ on you.” Miss Tilly spoke over her shoulder, then shifted back to Rosalie. “Let’s talk later. I’ve been prayin’ for your new position. Some people crave that kind of attention, but I have a feelin’ it’s not your thing.” Her eyes squinted, defining her crow’s feet. “We can talk about that”—she flitted a glance toward Kenny—“and a few other things later.”