Well, her mother had been right about Byron not being hers, that much was certain. No one had ever told her how dreadfully lonely marriage would be, and, truthfully, until moving to Pine Rapids and leaving her family and friends behind, she really hadn’t noticed. But now, she thought, if she had a baby, at least there would be someone who needed her, who really thought she was important. She could tend to a child night and day, and never think at all about what she really wanted.

Wait, what do you mean? she asked herself, stopping her dusting mid-circle.

And just then, she heard something. It took her a moment to identify the noise. Heavy footsteps, and then: a key jiggling in the back door’s lock.

Part Two - The Bane of Man

Curiosity has long been the prerogative of woman and a woman’s curiosity the bane of man. It seems likely that women have earned this reputation for nosiness not from any genuine bent for being curious but simply because of the kind of questions they will ask. Women ask questions for all sorts of inconsequential reasons—the desire for information is not of prime importance. And the results are none too good. Progeny have left home and husbands run screaming because too many thoughtless interrogations on the part of their womenfolk have knocked the props from under their morale.

—Good Housekeeping, May 1950

Chapter 28

Pine Rapids
Saturday, February 27, 1943

Elissa could hardly believe that Nick Overby was really here, in Pine Rapids, sitting next to her in a booth at Sullivan’s lunchroom in the Pine Rapids depot. She kept stealing little glances over at him to make sure she wasn’t dreaming. Each time, she was so thrilled at the sight of him that she had to look away to keep from grinning.

Her father, Jack, had insisted upon coming with her to meet Nick at the train, and now sat across the pockmarked table from them, a hard-eyed half smile on his face. Elissa had seen that look on her father’s face before; his way of softening someone up before he moved in for the kill.

Jack had been insufferable about the whole idea of Nick visiting, spending the whole week making up a list of special rules for the visit and lecturing Elissa about what unreliable boyfriends soldiers made. At least he let him come, she kept telling herself. Just feeling Nick’s arms around her that moment when he stepped off the train had been worth putting up with her father’s behavior the past week.

“So, tell me about yourself, Nick,” Jack said.

“Well,” Nick said, “I’m from Dover, Tennessee.”

“Yes, I know,” Jack said impatiently, lighting a cigarette. Embarrassingly, he had not removed the battered hat that he’d had practically since before Elissa was born; the brim shadowed his face as he smoked. “Lissa told us. How long have you been in the Army?”

“Thirteen months.”