A flock of Canadian geese soared in a V formation overhead as the ship blew its horn, its tired wail echoing into the city air. Sailboats and fishing boats cut them a broad swath as they slowed into the dock, and throngs of exuberant people waved American flags at their arrival. Margaret might even be in that crowd—cheering on the soldiers coming home but not knowing that Tom was among them.

He gathered his rucksack, thinking that it would never matter to him how much he might possess because he’d had only this bag for the last two years and had gotten by with no more. He slung it over his shoulders and disappeared into the ocean of those gathered, a brass band marking the occasion.

*  *  *

Tom didn’t need to check the address. He’d written it on so many envelopes in the past few months that he almost knew it better than his own. The black paint on the door was peeling; if he could get ahold of some paint, he’d take care of that for the Becks. He knocked on the door, suddenly feeling every nerve in his body as they rattled his confidence.

The door opened and he thought his stomach might lurch. A beautiful woman answered, one he recognized from the photograph that John had by his bed.

“Dottie?” he asked, surprised to see her.

Her eyes narrowed as she tried to place him, but then they widened.

“Tom! Tom! Oh my goodness, you’re home!”

She pulled him into an embrace that was as tight as anything he would have expected from his mother. Especially considering they had never met. He felt the roundness of her belly against him. Was she pregnant again?

He grinned. “How did you know it was me?” And then he looked at his uniform. “Oh, the name. Powell.”

“No.” She giggled. “It wasn’t that. You’re the handsome one in the picture. Margaret will be so pleased.”

Despite Margaret’s requests, Tom had managed to evade telling her which one he was in the photo, a nod to how William liked to keep her guessing.

“Come in, come in,” she said.

He stepped inside and walked around various toys that were strewn on the floor. A doll and a teddy bear and a jack-in-the-box.

“Does Grandma’s big girl want a cookie before lunch?”

A woman walked in holding the hand of a toddling girl, and he knew that they must be Margaret’s mother and Joanna.

“You’ve caught us unprepared,” Dottie apologized. “I brought Joanna over to visit her grandparents and we were just about to sit down to eat. Would you care to join us?”

“Yes, that would be nice,” he said. “Thank you.”

His stomach growled in agreement.