The Girls from the Beach

by Andie Newton

  “She said my brothers took bets on when I’d call it quits and come back home. The whole neighborhood has taken up a collection, and the purse is up twelve dollars.” She pushed her tray away and folded her arms. “Chumps!”

  Gail sighed. “Sorry, Roxy. That’s a mean thing.”

  “What about you, Red?” I said, and that’s when I noticed her eyes had welled with tears.

  “News from my mama,” Red said, and she wiped her tears away in such a hurry most people wouldn’t have noticed. “She misses me. That’s all. And the landlord raised her rent, she says she’d be on the street without my nursing money.” Red stuffed the letter away, muttering her last words to herself. “But I already know that…”

  “Aw,” Gail said.

  Roxy looked up at me, and I shook my head—not now. We’d have to explain Red’s situation to Gail later.

  “What’s that?” Roxy said, startling Gail with a sudden reach across the table, grabbing her wedding finger and examining an enameled gold ring. “You got a fella?” Roxy said, swallowing a mouthful of stew.

  Gail snatched her hand back, rubbing and twisting her ring. “No,” she said. “It’s a class ring. Mount Holyoke.”

  Roxy whistled, fanning herself as if she was warm. “Fancy girl college. So, you’re beautiful and smart! And you sing like a songbird, better than Dinah Shore, let me tell ya. I bet you modeled for one of those women’s magazines too.” Gail didn’t answer, and after a few moments of silence, Roxy’s eyes grew wide with her unrequited admission. “You did, didn’t you? A model! Fancy college, fancy dresses, and that hair and those perfect lips…”

  “Stop it right now.” Gail didn’t like it when Roxy called her beautiful, and she let her know it by giving her a pointed glare. “I mean it!” she snapped, and Roxy nodded. After a pause, Gail’s eyes skirted over the other nurses to see if anyone overheard, but there were a hundred nurses scraping their trays and many conversations going on at once. “I only modeled to pay for school.” Gail lowered her head, hiding her face with her brassy locks. “I’m more than a pretty face.”

  “Don’t, Gail,” I said, and she looked up. “You’re beautiful and smart. It’s all right to be both.”

  “Kit’s right,” Red said. “You can be both. I’m sure Roxy here would be a model too, if she could.”

  Roxy squinted at Red before going back to her stew.

  Benny wandered into the mess tent with his camera, snapping photos of the nurses still standing in the food line. “Oh no,” I said, and the girls looked up. He didn’t seem to mind that the nurses were posing this time, even if they were smiling because they were being served real food. “Hurry,” I said, “before he sees us.” And we shoveled our last heaping spoonfuls of stew into our mouths, except Gail, who didn’t understand why we were inhaling our food at an alarming rate. “Gail, eat up!” I said, mouth full, and she reluctantly slipped her spoon into her mouth.

  “Why?” she said over her food, trying to choke it down when Benny slid into the seat across from Roxy.

  We all groaned, except Gail.

  “Hey, ladies.” The sour tang of old grease lifted from his hair. The top button of his shirt had been undone, exposing a carpet of chest hairs. “Real food tonight.” He examined his camera settings, squinting, and adjusting. “You’ve got to be happy.”

  “Benny,” I said, swiping my mouth with a napkin. “Don’t take photos of us, all right? Not now.”

  He watched us as we ate, looking very disgusted. “No, God! I won’t.” He raised his camera and focused on Gail, who’d just swallowed the bite of stew she’d been rolling around in her mouth.

  “Gail Barry,” she said, and they shook hands across the table.

  “Pleasure’s all mine,” he said.

  “I said get lost, Benny. Jeez,” I said.

  “No. Actually, you didn’t, Kit,” he said. “You said not to take any photos while you’re eating.” I glared, and he put his hands up, letting his camera hang loose on his neck. “And I won’t.”

  “What are you doing here, anyway, lurking about at this hour?” I said. “You shoot in the day.” He smiled slyly, and my mouth pinched. “You have something to say?”

  He leaned onto the table using his elbows. “There’s a story circulating. Thought I’d come in here, see if I heard anything.” He nudged Roxy. “Everyone knows how this one likes to talk,” he snickered.

  “You’re always on the prowl for something, Benny. There’s a war going on. Isn’t that story enough?” I said.

  “Yeah, but this is something else.” His voice turned into a whisper. “Did you hear about the SS officer captured not far from here?”

  I gulped, feeling every hot potato swimming in my belly. “What officer?” My fingers curled around my spoon.

  “Word is he was found lying on the side of the road. They thought he was dead, but sure as the sun, he was breathing! But get this…” He paused, leaning over the table a little more. “They think he was tortured.” His eyebrows moved into his forehead. “By one of you nurses.”

  “You’re lying, Benny!” Roxy said. “Get outta here, will ya? What a disgusting thing to say! None of us would do anything like that. Not even Nosy Noreen.”

  “Nah, serious,” he said, “and you know what else?”

  Gail’s eyes grew wide like a doe caught in headlamps. “What?” she breathed.

  “The Hun’s talking,” he said, and my spoon slipped from my hand and fell to the floor. I looked at Red, but she was already looking at me, stone-faced and serious.

  “That’s enough, Benny,” Red said, still looking at me. “Leave us.”

  “Yeah, you little creep,” Roxy said.

  He whistled. “Touchy this evening, aren’t we, ladies? Makes me think you’re hiding something.” He got up, chuckling to himself. “I’m going to sniff this story out like a rabbit from a hole.”

  Red looked like she was about to vomit.

  Benny lifted his camera and focused on Gail. “Boy are you a sight for sore eyes, my dear,” he said, and Gail’s pleasant face flattened.

  “I’m smart,” she said, and he lowered his camera a hair to see her with his naked eye.

  “Yeah, yeah…” A slippery smile spread on his lips, half-hidden behind his camera. “Of course, sweetheart…”

  Flash!

  Gail’s hands flew up to cover her face while Red stood up.

  “Get out of here, Benny!” Red said, and he scrammed. “Damn him.” She sat down with a thump, pushing her empty tray away, spilling what was left of her stew onto the table. “Can’t we eat in peace, just once?”

  “Hope you trip on a tent spike, Benny!” I shouted.

  We sat for a moment too stunned to move and all for different reasons. Roxy got up first to walk out. Gail followed.

  “You ready, Red?” I said, standing up next.

  Her head had been in her hands. “Yeah,” she said, looking up, tired and drained. “Let’s leave.”

  We walked back to our tent, Roxy and Gail a few feet ahead of us. I didn’t want to bring up the German, but the farther we walked not talking about what Benny had said, the tension became too much to bear. I finally reached out for her shoulder, and she shrugged me away.

  “Red,” I whispered. “The German…”

  She shook her head. “Not going to talk about it, Kit.”

  I watched her walk away again. “Is that what you and the doctor were talking about?” I said, and she turned around, finger to her lips for me to be quiet.

  “Shh!” she hissed. “Dammit, you promised not to talk about it. Don’t you understand? If Benny or someone else hears us…” Red burst into a fit of tears and I didn’t know what else to do but to hug her, and tell her nothing was going to happen, nobody would find out it was us, but how could I promise those things when I was as unsure as she was?

  Rain spit from thin clouds into a hard rain, and Nosy Noreen appeared, wearing rain gear and running for her tent, but instead ran into us. “Oops!” she ye
lped. “What are you doing standing in the rain?” She blinked, holding her hood over her head while we shivered in our nurse fatigues. “You two are acting strange.”

  “Listen, Nosy—”

  Red pulled me away from her. “Bye, Noreen,” Red said, and Noreen reluctantly walked off in the dark, her feet slushing through small puddles as she took occasional looks over her shoulder.

  “Great,” Red said. “Nosy Noreen… Last person we need suspecting something.”

  “Come on,” I said, and we walked on to our tent, hands over our heads to protect from the rain, but it did little use.

  “Damn, Kit,” she said, moments before we stepped into our tent. “This was what I was afraid of. If only the Hun hadn’t figured you out.”

  “Yeah,” I said, followed by a pause. “If only.”

  *

  We walked into our tent and found Doctor Burk standing by Red’s bunk, dressed in his civvies, and wearing an old man’s hat. Gail looked frightened to see a man in our sleeping quarters, even if it was the doctor, while Roxy looked more confused.

  “It’s not our shift, Doctor,” Red said.

  “I know.” He squeezed a messenger bag strung over his shoulder, watching us stare at him. “There’s been an accident.” He darted across the tent to stand in front of Red.

  Roxy and Gail immediately sat down. Red remained standing. She didn’t mind working fourteen-hour days or being called out for emergency surgeries, but a man coming into our tent uninvited was like walking into her bedroom while she was changing.

  “Surely there are nurses on duty?” Red said. “Doctor, this is our tent, our space…”

  “I know, Red,” he said. “I wouldn’t have come if it wasn’t important.”

  “What accident?” I said.

  I had a terrible feeling he was going to say something about the German, that he’d died and the army found out what we’d done, and we’d be court-martialed, sent home, and put in jail—all of it flashed through my mind. My throat balled up as if I’d swallowed a rock.

  “Several men are stranded, in need of medical,” he said. “I was specifically asked to gather my nurses for a rescue.”

  “What?” I sat down, feeling very much relieved, but still a little scared. “Us?”

  Red scoffed. “We can’t leave—”

  “You can,” he said. “I’ve been informed the battle is in reprieve. We can slip out and be back before anyone notices.” The doctor rushed to close the open tent flaps so nobody could hear.

  “Slip out where?” I asked.

  He clenched the tent flaps behind his back with his eyes frantic and wide.

  “Behind enemy lines.”

  7

  EVELYN

  Hours went by and Evelyn sat on the couch, clutching her saddlebag purse and staring at the front door, thinking of that reporter and what he wanted with her. She thought that telephoning Roxy was going to help, that she’d know what to do, but instead she went on about a reunion that fall for the nurses, which was too much for Evelyn to think about on top of everything. Her husband came in through the back door, looking surprised to see her still in the house, and watched her for a moment from the doorway.

  “Have you been here all day?” he finally asked.

  She looked up, her last long fingernail in her teeth. “What time is it?”

  “Almost three,” he said. “You know we have that barbecue at Michelle’s house to go to.”

  Evelyn sighed—her daughter’s barbecue. The last thing she wanted to do was go to a barbecue—and in June? The weather was so unpredictable. “I didn’t forget,” she said, but she had forgotten, even though it was on her calendar.

  “Maybe it will be good for you,” her husband said.

  He took his ball cap off to rub his face, and Evelyn realized she still had the reporter’s business card in her hand. Her husband looked up, and she shoved the card deep into the pocket of her polyester pants.

  “Did you hear me, honey?” he said. “Maybe it—”

  “Is someone here?” Evelyn thought she heard a car drive up outside and bolted to her feet to peep over her husband’s shoulder, but it was only her daughter coming to pick them up for the barbecue. She clutched her chest in relief without realizing how that would appear, and her husband gave her a look.

  “Did the doctor call?” he said.

  Evelyn turned away from the window. “You always think that.” She kissed his cheek. “I’m fine.”

  He kept studying her.

  “Honest,” she said, “now go get ready.” Evelyn pushed him toward the stairs, and he went to the bathroom to wash up.

  She watched Michelle get out of her car and walk up to the house. By the time she’d made it to the door, Evelyn thought she’d convinced herself that a barbecue was what she needed—a rest from her thoughts, and a rest from watching the front door.

  *

  Michelle turned the car radio on while they drove, an instrumental thing on the AM channel—a soothing melody that should have relaxed her, but soon enough Evelyn swore she could feel her husband’s eyes on her from the back seat. After forty-four years of marriage, she knew he was on to her. But in the same breath, she knew he had enough sense not to bring it up in the car with their daughter right next to her.

  Evelyn played with the reporter’s card in her pocket, feeling the sharp paper edges, before looking over her shoulder. Sure enough, her husband was staring at her. They both smiled at each other, and she turned back around.

  “Is something going on?” Michelle said.

  “No.” Evelyn pulled her hand from her pocket to fold her arms. “Why?”

  “Because you’re both really quiet,” Michelle said. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard you two so quiet.” She moved her rearview mirror to look at her dad in the back seat.

  “It’s a quiet day.” He smiled at her through the mirror. “Looking forward to the barbecue,” he said.

  “Hey, Mom,” Michelle said. “I invited my neighbor. She’s about your age. She’s nice. I think you’ll like her.”

  “Mmm.” Evelyn put on a smile for her daughter’s sake, but she normally tried to avoid women her own age.

  They pulled up to Michelle’s house and Evelyn walked straight to the backyard through the grass where the barbecue was in full swing. Children splashed in small pools, and dogs raced around fetching toys. Smoke billowed from a barbecue cooking dry-rubbed ribs and seasoned hamburgers.

  She took a seat at the patio set where she could fan herself and have a glass of ice tea. Evelyn held the glass up to the sunlight after swirling the ice around, trying to get the right tilt to see the refracted light, tilting, tilting, the tea moving closer and closer to the lip, almost able to see a rainbow—

  “Mom?”

  Evelyn jolted, spilling a drop of cold tea on her polyester pants and losing her tilt. “Yes?” She’d closed her eyes briefly before looking up at Michelle.

  Her daughter pointed to the woman sitting at the same table wearing powder pink pants and a white knit shirt with little butterflies. “This is my neighbor I was telling you about. Hazel.”

  “Oh?” Evelyn smiled politely at Hazel, saying hello, though she wasn’t in the mood for a conversation, especially after the reporter’s visit that morning. She thought she’d made that clear by crossing her legs and looking away, but Hazel slid her plate and chair closer after Michelle walked away.

  “Great daughter you have there. Michelle and her husband—they’re the best neighbors.” She’d pointed to Michelle with her spoon, who was now opening the barbecue and flipping burgers with her husband. “I moved into the area not that long ago after retiring.” She scooped up some macaroni salad and chewed her food, but her eyes were set on Evelyn as if she expected her to ask where she’d lived before.

  Evelyn decided to indulge Hazel, thinking a little banter might satisfy her enough to leave her alone for the rest of the barbecue. “Where from?” The ice melted in Evelyn’s tea, beads of water sliding down
her glass and over her fingers.

  “San Diego area,” Hazel said. “I was stationed there during the war.”

  “Mmm.” And there it was. Evelyn should have figured as much—all women her age had a story to tell about the war days, and it was her luck she’d have to sit next to one of the talkative ones. This was one of the reasons she liked her church group, where most of the women were a full generation younger than her.

  “Liked the weather so much I stayed!” Hazel looked at Evelyn a little more closely, swallowing the mouthful of macaroni salad in her cheeks, and Evelyn felt the question coming—it was inevitable, and her heart ticked up just thinking about—the question everyone her age asked each other. “Did you serve in the war?”

  Evelyn immediately took a long sip of her watery tea as if she didn’t hear her—chit-chat time was over—but even after she’d set her glass down and patted the tea from her lips, Hazel was still looking at her.

  “Well, did ya?” Hazel said, and Evelyn went on to jiggle her head into something that resembled a shaky nod, something she’d never done before, never admitted. Even her own daughter didn’t know she’d been in the war—they’d only told her about her dad’s service. Evelyn quickly looked around for something else to talk about. The burgers on the grill, the slobbering dogs, the children splashing in pools, when she noticed the sky, and the gray clouds that had rolled in.

  Goose bumps erupted down her arms, causing all the little hairs to stand up. “Does anyone know the weather forecast?” she said, but Hazel shook her head and dug into her plate.

  Everything’s fine. Evelyn took a deep breath through her nose, and tried to focus on the sounds of the barbecue, but instead heard something heavy and clunky being brought outside. She twisted around and was surprised to find her daughter wheeling the television out the slider to the patio. “What are you doing?” Evelyn said.

  Michelle bent down to plug in the extension cord. “There’s a D-Day special on,” she said, and Evelyn’s limbs shuddered. “Hazel asked me to put it on. It’s on all the major channels.”

  “It’s today? The anniversary?” Evelyn closed her eyes tightly. My God, how could she let this happen? The D-Day anniversary. Evelyn always stayed home on that day to protect herself from parades, memorials and the memories that haunted her—and she most certainly didn’t think about Michelle’s TV since the barbecue was supposed to be an outside affair.