Nora dropped the spoon into her bowl with a clang. “What are you saying, Mary? That you think I don’t mean it? I do. You think I don’t love you? I do. You think I don’t care as much about us as you do? You’re wrong. Dead wrong. I don’t know what else I can say to convince you, but I do know that I don’t have time right now to debate it with you. I’ve got to go.” She shoved her chair back and rose. “You can leave the dishes. I’ll do them when I get home.”

When she’d gone, Mary threw herself on the bed and sobbed. What had become of them? Where was the passion? What happened to the days when they couldn’t get enough of each other, when it was all they could do to get through the day until the next time they could be together?

She stared at her ring. Had that been an empty gesture? It hadn’t felt like that at the time, but now… You’re being overly dramatic. She said she loved you. She said you’d stay together after the war. Why isn’t that enough for you? She blew her nose and sat up. As long as she was being miserable, maybe she should call home and see how her father was doing.

“Mother?”

“Mary, is that you?”

“Is there anyone else that calls you Mother?”

“Don’t be smart.”

“I’m sorry.” Her mother was right—that was uncalled for. “Can I talk to Daddy?”

She could hear her mother put down the phone. “Henry? Your daughter would like to talk to you.”

A minute later, he picked up the line. “Hello?”

“Hi, Daddy. I miss you.”

“I miss you too, Pumpkin.”

She gasped. It was the first time he’d used that term of endearment since he’d returned from the war. “Daddy? How are you feeling? How is work going?”

“I’m doing okay. Doc says I was really lucky that the bullets and the shrapnel missed everything major. Except for my leg, I’m good as new. The railroad is still treating me like I’m some kind of hero, and they even upped my pay.”

“That’s great. You sound good, Daddy.”

“And you sound like you’re down in the dumps; I know my little girl. What’s wrong, Pumpkin?”

Mary closed her eyes tightly as a tear leaked out. “Nothing. I’m just tired, I guess. I’m working a lot of hours.”

“My hero-daughter is winning the war for us.”

“Oh, Daddy. Don’t exaggerate.”

“I know that what you’re doing must be important, or you would’ve stayed here with us. I want you to know, Pumpkin, you can always come home. We love you and miss you.”