would never have asked anywhere else, and to reach out in ways that otherwise one wouldn't have dared.
She answered him thoughtfully. “Pennsylvania.”
“Did you like it?”
“Not much. We were dirt poor. All I wanted was to get the hell out, which I did, the minute I graduated from high school.”
He smiled. It was difficult to imagine her dirt poor anywhere, and least of all in some hick town.
“What about you? Where are you from, Lieutenant?”
“Ward. Or did you forget my name again?” She blushed as he teased. “I grew up in L.A.” He seemed loathe to add more, and she wasn't quite sure why.
“You going back there after … afterwards?” She hated the word “war,” and by now so did he. It had already cost him a lot, too much, there were wounds now that would never heal, even if they weren't the kind she could see. But instinctively she knew that they were there.
“Yeah. I guess so.”
“Are your folks there?” She was curious about him, this sad, cynical, handsome young man, with the secrets he didn't want to reveal, as they ate their stew in the ugly, brightly lit mess hall on Guadalcanal. There were stiff blackout covers on all the windows, so the impression was that there were no windows at all. They were both used to that.
“My folks are both dead.” He looked evenly at her, something dead in his own eyes. He had said the word too often by now.
“I'm sorry.”
“We weren't close anyway.” But still … her eyes searched his again as he stood up. “More stew, or something more exotic for dessert? They tell me there's an apple pie hidden somewhere.” His eyes smiled and she laughed.
“No thanks. There's no room in costumes like this for apple pie.” She glanced down at the silver lame dress, and for the first time in several hours, so did he. He was getting used to her looking like that. It was different from Kathy of course … so different in her starched white … and eventually, the fatigues she wore….
He disappeared for a moment and then returned with a small plate of fruit and a tall glass of iced tea. It was more precious than wine here, ice being almost impossible to make. But he had filled the glass with the precious ice cubes, and she had been on tour often enough to know what a rare gift this was. She seemed to savour each mouthful of the chill drink as a few men came and went, staring openly at her. But she seemed not to mind. She was used to it. She smiled casually at them, always turning her eyes back to Ward, and now she had to stifle a small yawn, as he pretended to look crushed and shook his head, mocking her. He teased a lot, and there was something funny about him. And at the same time something sad.
“Funny, they always do that after talking to me. I put them to sleep every time.” She laughed and took another sip of the iced tea.
“If you'd been up since four o'clock this morning, you'd be yawning too. I suppose you officers hang around in bed until noon around here.” She knew it wasn't true, but she liked teasing him, it quenched some of the sadness in his eyes and she sensed that he needed that. And he looked at her oddly then.
“What makes you do this, Faye?” He suddenly dared to use her first name and he wasn't sure why, but it felt good on his lips, and she didn't seem to mind. She said nothing about it anyway.
“Some kind of a need I guess … to repay all the good things that have happened to me. I never really feel I deserve it all. And you have to pay your dues in life.” It was the kind of thing Kathy would have said and tears almost filled his eyes. He had never felt that kind of a need, to pay “dues,” to repay anyone for how fortunate he had been. And now he didn't feel fortunate anymore anyway. Not since …
“Why do women always feel a need to pay dues?”
“That has nothing to do with it. Some men do too. Don't you, in a way? Don't you want to do something nice for the next guy, if something good happens to you?”
His eyes grew rock hard as he looked at her. “Nothing good has happened to me in a hell of a long time