by Judith Laik
She, Addy, and their parents had all tried to help Carmen deal with her grief over the death of her husband. Carmen and Bill had been so in love. They’d married right out of high school. Then Billy had come along, and little more than a year later, the war. Bill had enlisted early on, out of patriotism and the belief his service would provide for his family. Then last September, Bill had been killed in action during the US invasion of Italy. His death had rocked the whole family. They’d taken Bill to their hearts.
Carmen had been destroyed. Having Billy to care for was all that kept her going. She moved back in with their parents, and a couple of months later took a job at the shipyard in Tacoma, which built and refitted US Navy ships. She’d learned welding, working graveyard shift. She drove herself to keep from thinking about her loss, Norma surmised, but the haunted expression didn’t leave her eyes.
Norma set the book on a side table, taking a moment to honor the photo that always sat there: Mom, Dad, and her as a baby. Dad proudly wore his Army uniform from World War I days. She turned and grabbed one of Carmen’s arms and pushed it into the sleeve of her wool coat.
Addy wrapped the coat around Carmen and wrenched her other arm into it. “You don’t have work tonight, and Billy’s at Bill’s dad and mom’s. You have nothing better to do.”
“What do you think you’re doing?” Carmen half-protested as they dragged her to her feet.
“We’re getting you out of the house. When’s the last time you went anywhere but work?” Norma asked as they propelled Carmen to the front door. They passed their father’s library, where the strains of Samuel Barber’s Violin Concerto came through the door.
“I don’t want to go anywhere!” Carmen cast a pleading look at their mother, who stood in the kitchen doorway. But Mom, who’d been initiated into the plan, just made shooing motions.
“You’ll like this,” Addy promised as they hustled Carmen down the front steps and into Norma’s car sitting at the curb. Addy joined Carmen in the back seat as Norma started the car. She glanced in the rear-view mirror to see Addy murmur sympathetically to Carmen, then waved to Mom, who’d come to the front door to see them off.
Driving, she heard Carmen complain and Addy’s low-voiced reassurances. She smiled, then pursed her lips and breathed a prayer. This had to work.
She pulled into the nearly full parking lot beside the Lakewood Ice Arena’s Swiss-style building, and found a space between cars. Carmen glanced up and gasped. “This is where you’re taking me?”
“Where else? Remember those lessons Mom made us all take?” Norma asked. Their mother had been dedicated to the enrichment of her daughters’ lives with a variety of experiences. They took to each different activity with their own various amounts of enthusiasm, or lack of it. Carmen had been the one who’d loved ice skating.
“I’ve given up skating. There’s no time for that.”
“Maybe you should make time. It always made you happy.” Addy pushed open her car door. “Come on, since we’re here, let’s go in.”
Norma opened the trunk, where they’d hidden Carmen’s ice skates earlier. She and Addy would have to rent, as their child-size skates from their lesson days no longer fit. Over the patter of falling rain, she heard Lake Steilacoom’s waters lapping the shore. They dashed through the rain and into the building. The unique ice rink odor greeted her nose, with its blend of cold air, people, and perhaps refrigerant—whatever it was, no other place smelled like it.
The Saturday evening crowd was sizable, and the rink teemed with skaters of all types and degrees of proficiency. As this was the closest weekend to the holiday, the rink was decorated with a St. Valentine’s Day theme. Several couples skated together, on a Valentine’s date.
Numerous military guys, teenagers, and families with children also populated the ice. Several people sat on bleachers outside the rink, resting or donning or removing skates. Above the bleachers, the Swiss theme continued with large murals of snowy mountain scenes painted on the walls. Recorded organ music played nearly unrecognizable versions of popular songs.
After Norma and Addy rented skates, they returned to where they’d left Carmen to change into her skates. She was already on the ice, warming up with some spins and jumps in the center of the rink.
Carmen’s face glowed and her form looked good. Only someone who had watched her on the ice before, as Norma had many times, would realize she was out of practice. Norma and Addy shared huge grins and hurried to don their skates to join their sister.
They skated together for several laps around the rink, while the organ played Button Up Your Overcoat. The song ended and I’ve Got My Love to Keep Me Warm began. Just then, Norma spotted Frank on the opposite side of the rink.
He skated with a group of people, including an attractive woman who wobbled in her skates. She clung to Frank for support. Their progress was so jerky that Norma couldn’t ascertain Frank’s level of skating skill. The rest of their group, two women and another man, didn’t appear much more adept. They proceeded slowly, and other skaters swept around them.
At Norma and her sisters’ pace, they’d catch up to Frank’s group by the time they completed another circle. The organ music segued into Falling in Love Again just as the sisters drew near. Norma slowed, preparing to greet Frank and make introductions. He noticed her and stumbled, dropping his companion’s arm. The woman, already unsteady on skates, lost her balance entirely, windmilling her arms before she toppled with a screech.
A speeding skater buzzed around Norma and tripped over the fallen woman. He crashed to the ice, his momentum carrying him into Frank and then to the rest of his group. As the pileup grew, skaters around them scrambled to get out of the way. Someone rammed Norma from behind and she landed painfully on her knees and skidded into Frank.
She was immediately squashed flat by another body falling across her back. She twisted around and gazed into the surprised eyes of a teenaged girl—a solid, stocky teenage girl. No wonder she’d bowled Norma over. “I’m sorry,” the girl wheezed. “I couldn’t stop.”
“It’s okay. These things happen.” Norma surveyed the chaos. Carmen and Addy had managed to stay upright, and they skated over to help the teenager back to her feet, freeing Norma from her weight. Frank held out a hand to her and pulled her up. She smiled and reluctantly let go of him. “Hi. I didn’t know you were coming here.”
“I didn’t know I was, either.” With an apologetic shrug, he turned to help the rest of his group. “Let me introduce you to my friends,” he said as he righted the woman whose spectacular fall had precipitated the pileup. The others were slowly unfolding themselves and awkwardly getting to their feet. “Er, these are some of my fellow teachers at Stadium—Mary Myers, Jan Rizzo, and Pete Henderson. Oh, and this is Pete’s wife, Agnes. She isn’t a teacher.”
“And these are my sisters Carmen and Addy—actually Aida.” Since the teenager still was hanging around, she added, “And this is—? “
“Oh, sorry. I’m Becky.” The girl flipped her hair out of her eyes. “Um, Mr. Atwater is one of my teachers. I was going to say hello before all this happened.”
“Hi, Becky. Nice to see you here,” Frank said.
“Yeah, well, guess I’ll be going,” the girl said, peering around the rink. “Um, there’s my friends I came with. Guess I’ll go join them.” Her cheeks bright red, she skated hurriedly away.
Frank continued his introductions. “And this is Norma McIlroy. We volunteer at the USO together.”
Mary, the wobbly skater, eyeballed Norma from her head to skate tips. Norma could see the woman dismiss her as a challenge. Well, that was perfectly all right. She wasn’t in any competition for Frank. They were just friends. Somehow that thought hit her with a sharp jab, like her still-smarting knees.
Carmen said, “I see some of my old skating friends. I’m going over to say hello. Nice to meet you all.” She skated away. Frank’s colleagues set off again also, but they headed toward the exit.
That left Norma, Addy
, and Frank. Norma said, “We need to either skate or get off the ice. We’re blocking others.”
“I’m skating.” Addy followed her words by action.
Norma shrugged and smiled at Frank, and they started skating together.
“No Valentine’s date for you tonight?” Freed of the need to hold up an uncertain partner, Frank skated competently.
“It isn’t Valentine’s Day yet.” She sighed and added, “But, no, there’s nobody in my life right now. But your date is probably waiting for you.”
“She’s not a date. We’re colleagues who just decided to go out together. I’m the most experienced skater among them and she’s never been on skates before, so I ended up helping her.”
“Oh.” Norma didn’t think that was how Mary considered the situation, but it wasn’t her place to bring it up. “And I think your student has a crush on you.”
“Nah, they’re all scared to death of me. My surefire discipline method petrifies them. I stand there wriggling my ears until they all fall silent.”
Norma giggled. “I can just see that.” She paused. “Well, I should get back to my sisters and let you go back to your friends.”
“I suppose. I think they’ll want to leave now. None of them seemed to be having that good a time here.” He shook his head and smiled at her.
“Well, I’ll see you at the USO.” Norma peered around for her sisters and didn’t see them on the ice. She waved good-bye to Frank and headed off to search. Finally she found them in the ladies’ rest room. Carmen sat on a vanity chair by the mirror, face covered by her hands, and sobbing. Addy patted her on the shoulder, her face crumpled in sympathetic pain.
Carmen had been so happy skating. How could things have changed so suddenly? “What happened?” she asked Addy.
“Some soldier flirted with her. I guess it brought everything back.”
“How could he?” Carmen got out between sobs.
Norma wasn’t sure if she was talking about Bill dying or the soldier flirting with her. She ventured on the latter. “He didn’t know, Carmen. I’m sure he didn’t mean to upset you.”
“I could never—I shouldn’t have come here.”
“Of course you should have. You were enjoying it,” Addy reminded her.
“I shouldn’t have been. It’s wrong. Bill’s in his grave and I’m out having fun.” She gave a hiccup. The sobs had nearly stopped, but as she looked up at Norma, her eyes were haunted.
“It isn’t wrong to have a little fun.” Norma ached for her sister, but she was sure that clinging so hard to her pain wasn’t good for her.
“You can’t make my grief go away.”
“We weren’t trying to do that,” Norma said. “We just wanted to give you a brief time away from your sorrow, and to show you how much we care.”
“And to remind you that you still have good things in your life,” Addy said. “Especially sisters who’ll always be there for you.”
Carmen smiled, a weak effort but she was trying at least.
“Let’s go home,” Norma said. “But I warn you, we’ll do this again.”
“Okay, I’ll do my best to put up with it,” Carmen said.
Gosh, an attempt at a joke? Carmen was definitely making progress.
June 2, 1944
“Where have you been?” Norma was setting out doughnuts for the evening when Frank walked into the club. She had already started the coffee brewing. Take the A Train played softly on the radio.
Frank hadn’t shown up at the club for a couple of weeks. The last time they’d been there together, something seemed to be bothering him. So as the days slipped by without seeing him, she had grown more worried.
“I had to go home.” He took off his raincoat.
“Home?”
“To Montana, to my parents’ ranch. My brother was wounded in battle. I had to fill in at the ranch while my dad went to Virginia to be with him.”
“I’m so sorry. Is—”
“Yeah, he’s doing better. They don’t know yet whether he’ll fully recover. Dad came back home, but I’ll be going back after school gets out.”
Norma’s cheeks heated. For all they had worked side by side for over two years, she knew almost nothing about Frank. “I, er, I didn’t know you came from Montana or that your parents owned a ranch. I didn’t even realize you have a brother, let alone that he was in the war.”
“I’m sorry about that. I didn’t take to ranch life when I was a kid. I was so eager to kick the cow manure off my boots when I got to the big city that I didn’t talk about where I came from. It got to be a habit, I’m afraid.” He gave her a sheepish grin, accompanied by an ear wriggle.
It didn’t make her giggle as it usually did. She had a sick feeling that she had let him down somehow. But it also hurt that he hadn’t allowed her into more of his life. “How long will you be gone?”
“I don’t know. It depends on how Jack does and when Dad can leave him. He’s in rehab, learning to walk again.”
“I’ll miss you.”
“You will?” His face brightened, a small smile on his lips.
“Sure. We’re friends, aren’t we? It won’t be the same here without you.”
“Of course.” He studied her, his gaze so serious it made her self-conscious. “Are you seeing anybody?”
“Er, no. Nobody has come along that I’m at all interested in.” Since Bob, in fact. She’d realized that he was domineering, never took her feelings into account, and had ended it over three months ago. Nobody else had entered her life that she could come to care for. Strange, for her.
Silence fell between them, and she shivered a little. Looking up into his eyes, she admitted, “Maybe I’m just a little discouraged by the whole thing. I’ll probably get over it soon.”
“I—” His hand lifted, then dropped by his side again. He glanced at the clock out in the club room. “Almost time to open. I’ll go unlock the door.”
Norma had confided her latest romantic disaster to Frank many times, and he’d always been solicitous and encouraging, usually jollying her out of her low moods. His abruptness now took her aback. Tears filled her eyes. She wiped at them with the back of her wrist, picking up the tray of doughnuts and carrying them out to the table next to the coffee service. He’s worried about his brother. My romantic tangles seem pretty silly next to that.
Late April, 1945
“Lance’s idea was to put together a tour including talent from his home town,” Norma said.
“Why would a big star like him have asked your help with this tour?” Mrs. Gillespie’s brow furrowed as she gave Norma a condescending smile.
“Oh, he didn’t ask me. He went to my father. Lance was a music student of Dad’s at the college, before he went to Hollywood to pursue his acting career. He knew Dad could recommend some talented musicians and singers. It was Dad’s idea to enlist the USO. I mean, he might ask some of his older students also, although most college students aren’t twenty-one yet. But they need organizers and helpers as well as performers.”
Her father had protested against her taking part. “It’s dangerous,” he’d said to her. “Lance is planning to go to the areas that have just been freed, in Germany and Austria, places where fighting might still break out.” He couldn’t order Norma not to go; she was of age. But he’d made it clear he didn’t approve of her plans.
“I still don’t see why he doesn’t include his big-time friends, real stars from Hollywood instead of amateur talent,” Mrs. Gillespie said with a sniff.
“He’s done lots of tours with Hollywood stars. He says the boys are homesick and hungry to see real people just like their families back home.” She exchanged a glance with Frank, not quite rolling her eyes.
“I think it’s brilliant.” Frank smiled at Norma. “Lance Logan has donated a lot of time to the USO. The idea of folks from home going right to the GIs’ locations in Europe is a real morale booster. It’s been a long, tough war, and now it’s almost over. It’s time for the troops to cel
ebrate.”
“The tour won’t actually happen until summer. The war will probably be over by then. And that works better for us, because school will be out. I can go—what about you, Frank? Do you have to go back to Montana?” He’d been away a lot in the past months—the whole of last summer and all the school vacations, as well as taking another week or two during the school term.
“Yes, but I can get away for the tour. I suppose I can be one of those helpers you mentioned.”
“Don’t be so modest. You have a good voice. You’ll be an asset to the show.”
“I can sing a little. But it’s going to be pretty girls they’ll want to see.”
“Lance says that the men appreciate a mix of different acts,” Norma said.
“Really?” His eyes took on a speculative expression.
“What is it?” she asked.
“Nothing. I might have an idea, that’s all. I’ll tell you after I think about it some more.”
“Lance is coming here in a few weeks to talk to people, maybe do auditions. I don’t know exactly what his plans are.” Norma gazed at Mrs. Gillespie. “I’m sure we want to help him.”
“Of course we will offer him every assistance,” said the older woman.
Mid-May, 1945
“What’s the matter, Lise? You look blue.” Norma took in the petite brunette’s reflection in the rest room mirror as she combed her hair.
Lise shrugged. “It’s just the news from Europe.” Her usually faint accent, from some European country Norma could never remember, strengthened with strong emotion. Lise Sepp was a voice student of Norma’s father, and had been volunteering at the USO for a few months. They had become friends over that time.
“What do you mean? The war is over in Europe,” Norma said over the sound of running water as she washed her hands.
“Yes, but I’m worried about my mother. And my brother. I haven’t heard from either one in a long time. My brother stayed behind in Estonia, to resist the Russians. I’ve had no word of him for almost a year. My mother and I both lived in a little village in Austria before I got the opportunity to come to the U.S. I’ve only received one letter from her, and that was weeks ago.
