Kitty's War

by Barbara Whitaker

  “Let’s get out of here.”

  Before she could respond, he got to his feet and almost pulled her with him down the aisle and through the curtains into the lobby.

  “I’m sorry. I should have known that the newsreel would upset you.”

  “No. It’s all right.” She wiped the tears from her face. “I’m all right.” She looked around. “Why don’t we just wait here until the next picture starts?”

  He admired her guts. She wasn’t going to give in to it. “Okay,” he agreed.

  He led her across the lobby, thinking maybe they’d get a cup of coffee or maybe tea, whatever the English had to offer. Then he spotted it. One of those photo booths.

  “Look.” He pointed to the booth. “Let’s take some pictures.”

  “I…I don’t know.” She hesitated.

  “Aw, come on,” he taunted. “It’ll be fun.”

  She smiled at his attempt to cheer her up. “Okay.”

  He dug in his pocket for some change and slipped the coins into the slot.

  He held back the curtain and pushed her into the booth. “Oh, no. It’s both of us or nothing,” she informed him.

  “Okay.” He squeezed in beside her and winked which made her laugh. He liked the sound. “You should laugh more.”

  “Maybe if I was around you more, I would.”

  His heart swelled, and he could feel himself grinning at her. “I knew you could flirt, if you just let yourself go.”

  She reached over and pushed the button. The camera flashed. He turned to look at her. It flashed again.

  “Look at the camera,” she told him.

  “I’d rather look at you.” It flashed again.

  She reached up and took his chin and turned his face to the camera just as it flashed one last time.

  “That wasn’t fair.”

  She giggled and shook her head. “I don’t care.”

  He knew he was lost as he bent down and captured her lips. This time he didn’t just brush them lightly. This time he kissed her for real. Tasting her, devouring her mouth with his. His pulse pounded in his head. All he knew was her. All he wanted was here in his arms. There was only now…and Kitty.

  ****

  His lips pressed hers, and hunger roared inside her like nothing she’d ever experienced. The kiss deepened, and she could taste his aching need matching hers.

  When their lips finally parted, and they looked into each other’s eyes in sheer amazement, she tried to sound light and cheerful. “We ought to get out of here, don’t you think?”

  He nodded. His eyes crinkled into a smile while his lips remained parted, as if debating whether to return to hers.

  He glanced around as if he needed to get his bearings, then he pulled her from the booth. With his arm firmly around her shoulders, he herded her toward the exit.

  “Wait! The pictures.”

  He nodded and turned around. He reached into the slot where the photos had landed and pulled them out.

  Looking down, he commented “Not bad.”

  “Let me see.” She snatched them from his hand. They were silly, but good, especially the last one where she had turned his face to the camera. That little boy grin that stole her heart on that first day gazed at her from the tiny photo, sending a thrill through her body.

  “Come on.” He nudged her.

  In no time they stood inside the hotel lobby. Neither spoke. He stuck the dripping umbrella into the elephant-shaped umbrella stand near the door, placed his hand at the small of her back, and urged her toward the stairway.

  She avoided looking around the lobby. Instead she focused on his presence, on the stairway, and on what lay ahead.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  He closed the door, leaned back against it, and pulled her close. His mouth devoured hers as if he could not get enough.

  She wanted his kisses, his arms around her, holding her against his strong body.

  His kisses trailed across her cheek, down her jaw line to her sensitive neck. Chills ran through her.

  “I promised myself I wouldn’t do this,” he whispered.

  “What?” She didn’t want him to stop.

  “Take advantage of you.”

  “You aren’t,” she insisted. “I know what I’m doing.”

  He stopped and looked into her eyes. There was a question, something he was trying to decide.

  He swept her across the room, sat her on the bed, and sank down beside her. His arms engulfed her.

  “I’m not the prize your mother wanted for you.”

  “I never did anything to please her, anyway.”

  His hand caressed her chin, pulling it up so their eyes met. “If it weren’t for the war, this uniform, you wouldn’t give me a second glance.”

  “That’s not true.”

  “Yes, it is.” His smile was dead serious.

  “I saw you before. I wanted you then.” She hoped she didn’t sound desperate.

  He smiled as he kissed her, pushing her down without leaving her mouth. Her hand ran through his hair as she held him close. The weight of his body pressed her into the mattress, his hand exploring.

  “There’s no future, you know,” he whispered.

  Was he trying to discourage her? “Don’t say that.”

  He stopped. His gaze pinned her in place as surely as his arms held her. “I might not come back. Or I might be maimed, like your brother, or worse.”

  “More reason to live now.” She didn’t want to think of anything but now.

  “Don’t treat it lightly. You’re not that kind of girl.”

  She tried to pull him closer, but he was too strong.

  Tears welled in her eyes, and she fought desperately to stop them. She didn’t want to be protected, like some kind of untouchable doll sitting on a shelf. She wanted someone to love her, to want her.

  He watched her intently. His thumb brushed away a traitorous tear.

  She drew a ragged breath. “I’m not a child. I’m a grown woman. And I’ve been in love with you since the first time I saw you.”

  “You didn’t know me.”

  She shook her head. “But I did. I knew everything I needed to know.”

  “Milt told me you were prone to fantasies.” His expression changed into something almost sinister. “I’m no fantasy. I’m actually a pretty sorry character. I like women, lots of women. But I’ve never been serious about any of them. And I don’t want to get serious now.” He pulled away and sat up. “I lured you here because I knew you were upset. That made you vulnerable to someone like me.”

  “Maybe I wanted to be lured. Maybe I wanted to be comforted.” She was pleading but didn’t care. “Don’t pull away. Don’t leave me.”

  He turned his back to her. “Don’t. You don’t know me.” She could hear bitterness, and regret.

  “Then let me get to know you.”

  He sighed, turned back to her, and a hint of a smile crept onto his handsome face. “All right.” He faced her but pushed further away. He scooted to the edge of the bed as if ready to run. “I’m the son of a bum and a floozy. My father got himself killed stealing and my mother…she went from one man to another, drinking, partying…” He looked away.

  “You are not your parents.”

  “No? Then why do I drift from place to place, try anything, dangerous, crazy. You name it.” He paused. “Why didn’t I do like my grandparents wanted? Go to school. Make something of myself.”

  “You still can.”

  His laugh was sarcastic and bitter. “Sure. Sure.” He got up and walked across the room running his hand through his hair. Then he turned to face her. “Don’t you get it? I’m a dead man. There’s no way I’m going to make six more missions. Nobody’s done it.” He jerked away to face the tiny window. “I’ve watched them go down, waiting for my turn. Waiting for the flack or the fighter or the midair collision. The ball of fire. Or falling through the air, helplessly waiting to crash into the ground.” His voice died down, from the weight of the pain,
the anguish.

  She went to him, wrapped her arms around him, praying he wouldn’t push her away.

  He didn’t. Instead he held her, gently stroking her back.

  “You’re not alone anymore,” she whispered. “I’m with you. I’ll always be with you.”

  ****

  For the first time in his life, he belonged. She gave him that. Gave him a sense of connection to another human being, like he mattered, like someone cared, really cared.

  “Let me stay with you…for a while.”

  She pulled back, just enough so she could look up at him, smiled and nodded.

  Her soft warmth, her sweet, comforting soul melted his heart, dispelled his fear, gave him hope. Hope that maybe there could be a tomorrow. Or at least for today, hope that this beautiful woman could love him, really love him. Not like his mother, not like the others, so caught up in themselves they could care less what he needed.

  Kitty was different. And she wanted to love him.

  He thought of his grandmother, the strange woman he’d never understood, yet he’d always known she loved him, no matter what he did. Until now, he’d always thought that kind of love came only from old women, women who’d lived a long time and lost so much. He realized Kitty was that kind of woman. Strong, steady, unyielding. Yet she was also young and passionate.

  She’d saved him once. Perhaps, now, they could save each other.

  He leaned down and kissed her, gently at first, then deeper, more passionately. Her lips parted at his coaxing. He tentatively explored with his tongue until she opened to him, and he plundered her mouth with his.

  The power of his desire for her shocked him. He wanted her, all of her. He wanted to show her, teach her, give her something she’d never forget. Something he’d never forget.

  Her arms pulled him closer. He lifted her up and carried her back to the bed.

  Neither wanted more talk. Instead they followed their instincts. Each explored the other, intoxicated by the physical presence of someone who cared.

  He stopped thinking and just experienced this beautiful woman who wanted him, who loved him.

  ****

  She awoke in a dream-like state, gradually realizing the warmth curled around her was Ted’s strong, masculine body. She lay still soaking up the sensations, imprinting them on her memory. The feel of his skin. The scent of his body. The quiet sound of his breathing. All too soon he stirred and started awake as if surprised to find her there.

  “Good morning,” she whispered.

  He rolled over and pawed at the nearby table for his wrist watch.

  “What time is it?” he asked.

  “Early. There’s barely any light in the sky.”

  He settled back beside her. “Good. We don’t have to hurry.”

  “I don’t want to leave.” The ache in her chest increased.

  He slipped his arm around her and pulled her naked body against his. “I don’t either, but we have to.” His long fingers caressed her cheek, gently sliding down to lightly grasp her chin. He drew her face to his and placed a gentle kiss on her lips. “We have to go back to the real world.” His eyes reflected her own sadness as his fingers continued to caress her face.

  She wrapped her arms around him. “We’ll see each other again…soon. Won’t we?”

  “Sure. In a couple of weeks. Whenever we can both get away. We can meet here, in Norwich. It’s not far for you or for me.”

  She nodded against his bare chest. “And we’ll write.”

  “Yes. I’ll write you. I promise.” He pulled back, so he could look at her face. “But don’t expect too much. I’m not very good at writing letters.”

  She rolled her eyes.

  “Just warning you.” Laughter emerged from him so easily she found herself chuckling in response.

  She poked his chest with her finger. “You’d better write me, mister. I don’t care if they are short little notes.”

  “And you’d better write me long, long letters that I can read myself to sleep with.” He tweaked her nose.

  She responded by tickling the spot on his ribs she’d found the night before. He grabbed her hands to stop her assault, then found her mouth with his. He pressed her against the bed and rolled on top of her. Their teasing quickly progressed to more sensual activities. Activities she’d learned to enjoy, to let herself go and experience this man…this man she trusted completely…this man she loved.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  July 6, 1944

  Dear Father and Mother,

  You may have gotten a telegram about Milton. I want you to know that I have seen him in the hospital. He is alive and recovering from his wounds. They brought him to a hospital in England after he was wounded in Normandy. A medic found a letter he had written to me and sent it on with a note about Milton. That is how I knew what happened to him. His wounds are serious, but he is alive and he will recover.

  I don’t know how long it will be before they can put him on a ship to the states. Depends on when a hospital ship is available, but he will be shipped to a hospital back home. I am sure he will write you when he is settled. Then maybe you can visit him.

  You can still write to him at his overseas address, and he will get your letters eventually. I don’t know if I will be able to visit him again. We have been extremely busy as you can guess from the news. As I’ve told you before, I cannot say anything about my work.

  I want you to know that Milton will be okay. It will just take time.

  Your loving daughter,

  Katherine

  ****

  Kitty mailed her letter, then went in search of a new pair of stockings. She’d pulled a run in her last good pair on the train from Norwich.

  Her thoughts roamed back to the platform when he’d kissed her good-bye. He’d looked so handsome in his uniform, his billed cap cocked to one side like Clark Gable. She’d wished for a camera to snap a picture. And she’d made him promise to have one made, a nice one, she could have framed. She wanted to be able to look at him every day.

  Lost in her dreams, she wasn’t watching where she was going. She crashed into another shopper. The other WAC grabbed the counter to keep from falling.

  “Excuse me.” Kitty reached for the other girl to steady her and found herself facing Madge.

  Her old friend glared and said nothing.

  Kitty’s stomach clinched. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t watching where I was going.”

  “I know. You practically knocked me down.”

  Kitty fought the urge to look away, to avoid facing Madge. Guilt drenched her in a cold sweat. She knew, to her old friend, her face was as transparent as glass.

  “I’m sorry,” Kitty repeated.

  Madge stared at her for a moment. “Sally told me your brother was wounded.”

  Kitty nodded.

  “I hope it wasn’t too bad.” Madge was truly sympathetic.

  “Bad enough.” Kitty could feel this enormous, unspoken thing between them. It had to be brought out into the open if she ever hoped to resurrect their friendship.

  “Well, I hope he’s okay.”

  “I’ve seen Ted,” Kitty blurted out.

  “What?”

  “Ted. I saw him in Norwich.”

  Madge’s face bloomed red with anger. “Are you trying to rub it in?”

  Kitty shook her head, but Madge ignored her.

  “It’s bad enough you sneaked around and broke us up. To steal him for yourself. Now you’re trying to gloat in triumph by telling me you’ve seen him. Next you’ll be claiming he loves you.”

  “He does. And I love him.”

  Madge turned even redder, her eyes bulged and Kitty thought she would explode.

  “You rat. You little conniving rat. You knew how I felt about him, but you went after him anyway. You meant to hurt me all along, didn’t you? Show me you could steal him? After all I did for you?”

  “No, no. It wasn’t like that. I didn’t mean for it to happen. Let me explain.”

&
nbsp; “Right! Still playing the innocent. Well, I know better.”

  “I knew you liked him. It’s true. I tried to stop it, really I did. But…” How could she make Madge understand? “Do you remember me telling you about the man on the beach?”

  “What’s that got to do with anything?”

  “It was him. It was Ted.”

  Madge inhaled sharply, then she became eerily silent. Her eyes narrowed as she absorbed the information.

  “I know I should have told you. But I couldn’t. You were so crazy about him. And he didn’t remember me. At least not at first.”

  “Are you trying to tell me that Ted, my Ted, was the man you dreamed about?” Madge’s voice pierced like cold steel. “Is that why you had to have him, even though you knew I was in love with him?”

  “I didn’t mean to hurt you. I tried to stay away from him.” She desperately wanted Madge to understand. And she desperately wanted to shed the pall of guilt hanging over her. “He pursued me. Don’t you see? I tried to keep it from happening.”

  “I don’t believe a word of it. You wanted him, and you got him.” She drew a ragged breath and looked away for a few seconds. When she looked back, fury burned in her eyes. “Stay away from me. I never want to see you again.” Her words ground out, full of pain and bitter anger.

  Tears slid down Kitty’s cheeks. She watched Madge stomp off, her fury evident in her every step.

  The friend she’d counted on, clung to even, now hated her. And most of the other girls would take Madge’s side, like they always did. Everybody loved Madge. And that left Kitty alone. The WACs at the castle were already cool and distant, even when they asked about her brother. When Madge got through, Kitty wouldn’t have a friend left.

  Madge had not only taught her about men. She had been her door to the world of girlfriends, sharing confidences, helping each other get through the tough times, celebrating the small things that made life here tolerable. When the general chose Kitty to work for him, the wedge between her and her friends had started. Several had pulled back, kept their distance. Now her love for Ted and Madge’s anger would finish the job.

  Could she go on like this? She’d survived as a kid with no one to talk to, no one who understood her—except Milton. Now she had Ted. She could survive. After all, he loved her. That was all she needed.