William and Tom were safe. Weeks of worry could rest at last and nothing could dampen the feeling of tremendous relief that came over her.

She pulled out a fresh piece of stationery. Heavier than air mail, but she was earning enough to afford the extra stamps and even the paper itself. It was lavender, embossed with silver flowers.

Dearest William,

I am delighted that our correspondence seems to mean as much to you as it does to me. I never suspected when I knit that first sock and wrote that first note that a friendship would bloom from it. But it has become the very best of surprises.

If it seems indulgent that I am writing to you on such lovely paper, I’m going to defend myself straight off by telling you that I have gotten another promotion and it was my little treat for myself to celebrate. Plus, it’s something I get to share with you. You’re worth the extra postage.

(Which in other times, might seem like such a trivial thing to say, but I think in these sparse days, even so much as a second cherry tomato on a salad seems like an extravagance!)

Anyway—on to the good news. The sewing job was child’s play for me, only because of my many years working in the cobbler’s shop. And the engraving work—well, it never really excited me.

But now! I am a welder. A woman welder. Can you believe that? We’ve had to take on so many jobs that the men left behind, but I’m not ashamed to say that it has been pure delight. Holding the torch in my hands is holding power itself. (A rare thing in the life of a woman, I must say. I see why it is an alluring concept.) Wearing the visor reminds me that it’s dangerous. I never would have pegged myself for finding that exciting—I was such a ninny when I thought that engraving ordnance was akin to handling munitions! But my favorite thing by far is watching the sparks fly. It’s like twinkling Christmas lights and the 4th of July all at once.

And by the end, I have made something that I can really be proud of. Why, just yesterday, I welded a significant part of the hull of our newest ship. Marvelously named the “Coral Sea.”

I earn an extra dollar a week. Which months ago, I would have spent on department store cosmetics. (Rather than drugstore ones, not that I expect you to know the difference. But there is one.) Now I feel that each week, each month brings me exponentially closer to adulthood and away from girlish giggles and such. I am setting aside half to give to my parents and putting away fifty cents a week in an old Mason jar for no other reason than it seems like the wise thing to do.