to get overseas as a correspondent. He had responded as a pal. Without even mentioning what he was doing in the war, he wrote about China and about the problems of navigation where there were no navigation aids and about how difficult it had been to reassemble crated airplanes with a Chinese workforce.
And then the letters had stopped. She had no idea why, but there was a chance that Ed Bitter knew something she didn’t.
“Why do you ask about him?” Ed Bitter replied as the elevator doors closed. And then he remembered that Ann had had a schoolgirl crush on Dick Canidy.
“Yes or no,” she said. “Simple question, simple answer.”
“He’s been home for some time,” he said.
The way he said that alarmed her. It was evident in her voice. “He’s been hurt?”
“No,” he said. “He has not been hurt.”
“Then what?”
“He was sent home months ago,” Ed said.
“Why?”
“Is that important?”
“It wouldn’t be if you weren’t reluctant to tell me.”
“If you have to know,” Ed said, “he was relieved.”
“What does that mean?” Ann asked.
“He was—discharged—from the AVG,” Bitter said. “Under not quite honorable circumstances.”
“What, exactly, were those ‘not quite honorable circumstances’?” Ann demanded.
“It was alleged that he refused to engage the enemy.”
She looked at him intently and saw that he was telling her the truth.
“He must have had his reasons,” she said loyally. “Where is he?”
“I have no idea,” Ed said. “Under the circumstances, I don’t think he wants to see me. Or, for that matter, you.”
“I would like to hear his side,” Ann said.
“I really don’t know where he is, Ann,” Ed Bitter said.
“My advice is to leave it that way.”
The elevator was by then at the eighth floor. The operator opened the door and they stepped into a corridor. He followed Ann down the corridor. She stopped before a door, took a key from her pocket and unlocked it, and stepped inside.
She waved for him to follow her inside. There was a sitting room, with doors opening off either side.
“Sarah!” Ann called.
A door opened. And Sarah stood framed in it—with an infant in her arms. She looked at Ed Bitter and then away. Ann went to her and took the child.
What the hell is all this?
“Don’t tell me that’s yours,” he said to Ann.
“Okay. I won’t tell you it’s mine,” Ann said agreeably. “It’s not mine. It’s yours.”
She walked to him and abruptly handed him the infant.
“He’s mine,” Sarah said. “You’re the father, but you don’t have to think of him as yours unless you want to.”
“I don’t believe this,” Ed Bitter said.
“Scout’s honor, Cousin Edwin,” Ann said. “Cross my heart and hope to die.”
“I’m glad you’re home safe, Ed,” Sarah said.
“Goddamn it, don’t get off the subject!” he said. “Why wasn’t I told?”
“Theoretically,” Ann said, “because you were off saving the world for democracy, and she didn’t want to trouble you. Actually, because she was afraid of what you would do when you found out.”
“Ann!” Sarah said.
“Jesus Christ!” Bitter said.
“So now that you know, Ed,” Ann pursued, “what are you going to do about him?”
“Ann!” Sarah said again.
Ed Bitter looked down at the child in his arms. He felt no emotion whatsoever.
This boy is unquestionably my child, if for no other reason than that a practical joke of this magnitude is beyond even Ann. And if it is my child, I certainly will have to do the decent thing: Recognize it, legitimatize it, marry the mother, give it and her my name.
He looked at Sarah. She was staring out a window.
He looked down at the child again. He had no sense of recognition, he thought, no animal sensing that this was the fruit of his loins. It was simply a baby, indistinguishable from dozens he had held as reluctantly as he held this one.
“If I seem somewhat stunned by all this,” he said, “I am. I came here with the intention of rushing Sarah into becoming engaged before my leave was up.”
“You took your sweet time getting to Memphis, Romeo,” Ann said.
“And now,” he said, ignoring the remark, “it would seem that it is not a question of whether she’ll marry me, but how soon.”
“You don’t have to marry me,” Sarah said, not meaning it.
“I love you, Sarah,” he said, surprised at how easy the words, the lie, came to his lips. “And we owe it to Whatsisname here, don’t you think?”
Ann laughed. “Give me Whatsisname,” she said. “And I’ll take him for a walk.”
“No,” Bitter said. “You take a walk, Ann. But leave him here. I want to