Cherished Wings

by Tracey L. Dragon

  Fran clutched her purse to her chest and dipped down behind him, turning off at the bathroom. She slipped into a stall and pulled her feet up. Just great. She wondered how long she’d be stuck there. She should never have let Jack talk her into having lunch with him. Well, at least they hadn’t been caught at the table together.

  Shit. What about her dishes?

  Oh Crap. Well, there’s nothing she can do about it now. It’s probably for the best. This way Amy will see Jack’s not interested in her before she makes a fool of herself.

  Chapter 7

  Fran slid down in her chair and propped her feet up on the railing of the back porch after hanging up the laundry. Like her mother, she found it restful to sit outside under the shade of the maples and be soothed by the calmness of the canal. A stillness in the water called to a stillness within her. She felt a sense of tranquility there.

  Usually. But not today.

  Today her insides were churning with emotion. Her mind struggled with the things Jack had said. She tried to take a nap, but only tossed and turned. Her mind refused to shut down as their conversations replayed in her head. Images of Jack would not go away. She wanted to yank her hair out and scream with frustration. But mostly, she just wanted to see him again. There was something addicting about him.

  Buried in her thoughts, Fran didn’t hear Amy come around the side of the house until she called out to her.

  “Hey, Fran. Mind if I join you?”

  “Not at all,” she lied, as she slid her feet down from the railing and sat up. Guilt infused her. She couldn’t remember a day when she hadn’t welcomed Amy’s company. Today, however, was such a day. She didn’t want to deceive her friend.

  “Just wait till I tell you about lunch,” Amy said as she plopped down in the chair next to Fran.

  “I really don’t want—”

  “You’ve got to listen to this,” Amy interrupted. “Red and I stopped at Ray’s to get a bite to eat, and you’ll never guess who was there.”

  “Humphrey Bogart.”

  “Fran.” Amy rolled her brown eyes.

  “No? Clark Gable?”

  “You’re being a real pain in the behind.”

  “Oh, I guess you’re right. What would Clark Gable be doing in little old Albion, New York?”

  “Sometimes, Frannie girl, I just want to smack you. You know darn well who I’m talking about.”

  “No, I don’t.” She swallowed that humdinger of a lie with difficulty. “Who did you meet at the diner?”

  “Jack, you silly.”

  “And I should be surprised by this, why? After all the man is staying with you.”

  “Yeah, I know, I know. It’s just that he left early in the morning before Red or I got up. Told my mom he was going to explore the town and would be back later.”

  “So . . . the man wanted to see merry ole Albion. That should have taken him all of, what, thirty minutes?”

  “No, that’s just the thing. My mom said he left at around eight o’clock. He still hadn’t come back to the house by noontime, so Red and I thought we’d head downtown and see if we could find him and maybe have lunch.”

  “And so, you found him at the diner having lunch. Amazing. I’ve been on the edge of my seat wondering what could have happened to him.”

  Then Amy did reach out and smack her. “Sometimes, Fran, you almost make me mad.”

  She decided to cut Amy some slack. “I’m just funning, Ames. Don’t get all riled up. So, you met Jack at Ray’s. Did he regale you with the wonders of the town?”

  “No, he didn’t. He acted kind of strange. He got up to meet us as soon as we walked through the door, then rushed back to his table and started stacking up the dirty dishes.”

  “And you think that’s odd?”

  “Yes, because there were dishes set across from him as if he had lunch with someone. He hurriedly gathered them together then signaled the waitress to pick them up.”

  Fran’s stomach knotted. “Did you ask if he had lunch with anyone?”

  “No. Before I could mention it, Jack said he’d been starved from his wanderings and having skipped breakfast he ordered two of everything.”

  “Well there you go, mystery solved.” Fran’s stomach eased.

  “Except I could swear lipstick smudged the edge of one of the glasses, and there was still food on both plates when the waitress picked them up.”

  Damn, she didn’t even think about her lipstick. She scrambled for a plausible excuse. “Maybe someone joined him for lunch. You know he draws women like Black-eyed Susans attract bees. Probably some woman saw he was unaccompanied and couldn’t resist inviting herself to lunch. Jack’s the friendly type, probably enjoyed having company. He wouldn’t want to hurt anyone’s feelings.”

  Amy studied her for a moment. “I hope that’s all it was. I’d hate to think it anything else.” Then her face brightened and she slapped her hand to her knee. “Hah, so you finally admit he has some redeeming qualities.”

  “A few,” she said grudgingly.

  “That’s progress, anyway.”

  Amy glanced down at the book in Fran’s lap. “I see you have your nose in another book,” she teased.

  “You should try it sometime. You never know, you might learn something.”

  Amy made a face at her. “Why? What good is it going to do me? It’s not like I’m ever going to leave here. I plan to get married and have babies. I’ve no intention of working my fingers to the bone in the Novelty Shoppe or anywhere else. If this darn war would hurry up and end, I might be able to meet such a man, if I haven’t already.”

  “Got someone in mind?”

  Amy grinned at her. “Need you ask? That Jack is something, isn’t he?”

  Fran shrugged.

  “Oh, come on, Fran. You’re neither blind nor deaf. Jack has both looks and charm in spades.”

  “Looks and charm aren’t everything, you know?”

  “I know, intelligence and personality go a long way.” She made a face. “But that’s what’s so great about Jack. He has those too. You must admit, he’s the complete package.”

  “Maybe.”

  “There’s no maybe about it. Don’t know why you’re putting up such a fight. I’ve never known you to be so close-minded about a boy. Heck, you’re usually the one trying to point out a guy’s redeeming qualities to me—especially when there’s only a few to be had. But in this case . . .”

  “I’m not saying Jack doesn’t have redeeming qualities. It’s that he has too many. Can you imagine being his girl?”

  “Oh yeah. Do you really need to ask that?”

  She sighed. “You just don’t get it, Ames.”

  “What?” Amy threw up her hands. “The guy’s great. I don’t understand why you’re determined to find something wrong with him.”

  “That’s the problem. He seems great in every way, but nobody’s perfect. There must be a hidden flaw somewhere,” she snapped. “You don’t think it would bother you when women started falling all over him? What about when he goes back to the city or overseas? Do you honestly think a guy like that would be faithful to the little woman back home?”

  “Aw, Frannie, there you go again getting way ahead of things. You know you always do that—start predicting the future when you can’t honestly fathom what it will bring.”

  “But you know I have a valid point,” she insisted.

  “No, I don’t. Jack seems like a terrific guy. I know you haven’t spent much time around him, but after we got home last night from The White Elephant we sat around and talked for a bit. From the time I’ve spent with Jack and talking with Red, I get the feeling that Jack, despite his good looks, is the one-woman kind of guy. From what Red says, Jack seems to take his appearance in stride. He’s always charming and
polite but does his best not to lead the girls on. He told Red he was waiting for that one special girl. I’m just hoping I can convince him it’s me.”

  “Any success yet?”

  “Unfortunately.” Amy looked grim for a minute. “Not yet.” Then her face brightened. “But there’s always hope. I get the feeling he sees me as Red’s little sister. Someone he shouldn’t become romantically involved with. I hope to change that before he leaves.”

  Listening to Amy go on about Jack made Fran’s guilt quadruple. She was betraying her best friend. She should just tell her the truth. Amy would be disappointed, but she’d get over it, she hoped. Or maybe it would be better to leave it alone. After all, Jack would be gone on tomorrow’s evening train, and she’d probably never see him again.

  “Hey . . .” Amy broke into her thoughts. “What are your plans for tonight?”

  “Not a darn thing. I’m tired. I didn’t sleep last night and I’m planning to go to bed early.”

  “Aw come on, Fran. You can’t do that. Jack and Red are only going to be here tonight. Tomorrow, they leave on the six P.M. train.”

  “And . . .”

  “I thought we could go to the movies.”

  “No,” Fran said firmly.

  “But why not? It’s not like you’ll be on your feet or anything. If you want, you can just lean your head back against the seat and go to sleep. You know Red, he won’t mind. He’ll be caught up in the movie.”

  “Amy, what part of no don’t you understand?”

  “Gee whiz, you’re a grouch. I thought we were best friends. You know how much I want to spend time with Jack before he leaves. If we don’t go to the movies, the boys will go off and do something without me. Then I’ll lose a chance to spend the last evening with Jack. How am I supposed to get him to like me, if we can’t spend time together?”

  She almost told Amy the truth then. That no matter how much time she spent with Jack, he wasn’t going to return her feelings, but she couldn’t bring herself to say it. Maybe it would be best if she agreed to go. The more time Amy spent with Jack, the more likely she’d realize that Jack wasn’t interested.

  “Aw, come on, Frannie. Please.”

  “All right, all right.”

  “You mean it?” Amy jumped up from the seat she’d flopped in. “Ooh. A dark theater and a man like Jack sitting next to me. I can’t wait.” She sat down again but only perched on the edge of her seat.

  “Yeah, I’ll go.” A thrill of excitement and dread filled her at Amy’s words.

  “Great, the movie starts at seven-thirty. We’ll come by at seven, and we can all walk to The Ritz together. Just remember, I want to sit next to Jack.”

  “Sure Amy, no problem.” She wondered how Jack would feel about the seating arrangements. She felt pretty sure he would maneuver them to suit himself.

  “I’m going to head home. I need to figure out what I’m going to wear tonight. I want Jack to think I’m smashing. See you later.” Amy stepped off the porch and struck off across the lawn.

  Fran watched her best friend disappear around the house.

  “This could get a might bit sticky,” she murmured to herself.

  Chapter 8

  With everyone saving energy for the war effort, the only light inside the Ritz came from the large movie screen in the front of the theater. When the scenes changed from day to night, it became difficult to discern the face of the person in the next seat. Young couples hoping for a bit of privacy snuggled in the back rows and corners.

  Thankfully, Fran thought, the boys or at least Red were more interested in the movie and the bag of popcorn in their laps than romance. When they first arrived, Jack maneuvered Amy ahead of him into the row of seats, therefore assuring he sat between the girls. Now Fran found herself fighting him for the armrest.

  “Popcorn?” Jack held the bag out in front of her.

  “No, thanks,” she said, her voice laced with aggravation.

  Jack’s grin lit up the dark. “Suit yourself. It’s good.”

  “I’ll have some more.” Amy drew Jack’s attention away from Fran.

  “Here.” Jack handed the bag to Amy. “I’ve had enough. Just keep it.”

  As the screen darkened with the onset of a night scene, Jack returned his now free hand to the already occupied armrest, nudging Fran in the process.

  When Jack’s arm moved against hers, Fran began to withdraw it from the chair rest only to have his hand slide over hers and hold it in place. Short of starting a tug-of-war in front of everyone, she held still, allowing Jack the one brief victory. But, she certainly planned to win the war.

  When the lights signaled intermission, she jumped to her feet. “Excuse me,” she said to Red. “I need to go to the ladies’ room.”

  “Oh, right.” Red stood, juggling his soda and popcorn to let her pass.

  “I’ll join you, Fran.” Amy squeezed by Jack and Red to follow her.

  Once in the restroom, Amy complained, “I just don’t get it. I can’t begin to tell you how many octopus hands I’ve had to fend off in this place, but Jack doesn’t seem interested at all. What do you think is wrong?” She showed Fran her teeth. “Do I have broccoli stuck somewhere?”

  “Don’t be silly. It’s probably just not meant to be. Besides he’ll be going back to his duty station tomorrow, and I imagine it will be the last we’ll see of him. I don’t think he’s the kind of guy to get serious over a woman.”

  “Oh, pooh, I don’t believe that for a minute. I think if a girl took Jack’s interest, she’d have him heart and soul. I’ve just got to figure out a way to have him all to myself. He’ll never make a move in Red’s presence. Maybe I can get him alone after the movie.”

  Amy was right, something needed to be done. Fran had no plans of sitting through the second half of the movie like she did the first. Jack needed to move. “For now, how about we switch seats? If you tell Jack you want to sit next to me, then he’ll have to take my seat, which will get him further away from Red.”

  “Good idea. That way Jack won’t have anyone to talk to besides me. Maybe I can catch his attention then.”

  By the time they returned to the theater, the lights had already dimmed, and it was difficult to see ahead of them. When they reached their aisle, they discovered the guys were not there. The girls took the two middle seats, leaving a chair on each side of them. The movie started, and yet no boys. At last, Jack slid into the seat beside Fran.

  “Drats,” Amy muttered, before leaning over Fran to whisper to Jack. “Where’s Red?”

  “He met some friends outside who were leaving to go to a bar. They wanted him to join them, said you girls wouldn’t mind.” Jack shrugged as if he didn’t understand Red’s choice. “I told him I’d see you home after the movie.”

  Amy sputtered as if she’d wring her brother’s neck for deserting them then stopped at Jack’s mention of seeing them home.

  It was obvious to Fran the moment her friend realized she’d just gotten her wish answered. Amy relaxed back into her seat happy as a lark and didn’t seem to mind that Jack was now sitting next to Fran.

  And he took full advantage of it.

  She removed her arm from the armrest to avoid touching him.

  He flashed her a knowing grin.

  She ignored him and pretended to concentrate on the screen.

  He yawned, stretched, then draped his arm across the back of her chair as he shifted in his, pretending to get comfortable.

  She glared at him.

  He grinned, then glanced down at the empty armrest between them and arched one eyebrow.

  Okay, he made his point. She could either put her arm back or he’d keep his on the back of her seat, practically around her shoulders. And the longer his arm remained on the top of her seat, the greater the c
hance Amy would realize it was there on purpose, and not just propped temporarily as a way to get comfortable.

  She pursed her lips. Hell. She’d have to concede another defeat. She placed her arm back between them.

  He lowered his to hers.

  No doubt he was gloating at winning another battle.

  She slid her left foot up and over, then brought the pointed heel of her shoe down hard on his toe.

  His knee jerked.

  Okay, maybe it wasn’t a total defeat—just the loss of a minor skirmish. She gave him a rallying smirk.

  The movie ended at ten-thirty, and Fran was home and in bed with a book by eleven. Her mind and stomach churned with unsettling emotions, and the book she’d found emotionally exciting earlier didn’t seem to distract her from them. Thoughts of Jack continued to interrupt her concentration. She had just turned off the light to attempt what she expected to be a restless night’s sleep, when she heard what sounded like a pebble striking glass. She listened, but nothing. She probably only imagined it. The sound came again—a ping like the first one, followed by a hail of dirt or stones against the window pane.

  She slipped on her robe, went to the window, and peeked out behind the drawn-down shade. The full moon washed the side of the house in light, illuminating the man standing below it. Jack.

  She snapped up the shade to see better. As soon as she appeared in the window, he motioned with his arm, pointing toward the backyard.

  She shook her head.

  He nodded his.

  She put her hand on her hip and mouthed, “No.”

  He cupped his hands to his mouth as if to yell.

  She quickly put her palm up in a halting motion.

  He jerked his head several times toward the back of the house.

  She rolled her eyes before nodding back.

  With a triumphant grin, he tucked his hands in the pockets of his pants and strode toward the back porch.

  Fran fumbled in the dark for the clothes she’d taken off earlier, trying to be quiet lest she wake her mom. She crept down the stairs, tiptoed past her mother’s room, and paused at the kitchen door. Damn, she’d removed her makeup.