Page 1 of We'll Meet Again

Prologue

June4,1944

Upottery Airfield, England

Dear Maggie,

I can’t say much, but we’re stuck for a while due to the weather. Can’t jump in rain and fog, can we? Anyway, I’m glad for it. I’d have hated to set off without getting word to you. And telling you just once more that I love you. Those months in Aldbourne have been the greatest joy of my life. I’m now armed not only with my rifle, but with the memories of you and our time together. The way your eyes squint when you laugh, your hair flying loose when we danced, and all those sweet, sweet kisses. I declare, you could bring a man to his knees with your kisses. I’m sure you felt mine buckle more than once. But if I keep writing about that, I’ll never stop.

They’re showing us a film to keep us busy. Mr. Lucky, it’s called. The picture’s got Cary Grant in it. You told me once how you like him, but we never did see a picture together, did we? That’s a shame. As swell of a dancer as I am, I’m an even better movie date. I hope I can show that to you one day.

Another thing I’ve been thinking about as far as our future. When I make it back, I want to marry you. I know it’s not proper for me to propose with a letter, but as we get ready to face the enemy, my only regret is not making you my wife. So when I get back (I won’t say “if”) tell me you’ll marry me.

I promise I’ll take care of you all my life. How could I not? I love you so much, it’s almost hard to believe there was ever a time we were strangers.

With love,

Your Henry

Chapter 1

“Youready?”

Ethan turned his head at his grandmother’s voice to see her primping herself in the mirror. She adjusted her once-naturally blonde curls into just the right position behind her ears before she pulled out a lipstick from her purse and swiped it on. Then she closed the visor and met his eyes. Eyes he had inherited from her - deep green and round. Her expectant expression made his nerves jump about ten levels higher than they were before.

“I think so,” he told her, and cut his truck’s rumbling engine.

He looked back out the windshield at the dark parking garage that was a perfect reflection of his mood. A family of four made their way slowly across the traffic lane. The father had one daughter seated on top of the rolling suitcase, with the other daughter strapped to his chest via a baby bjorn. The mother was struggling to carry the remaining bags while balancing an iced coffee and stuffing her cell phone into her coat pocket. He might have laughed if his stomach wasn’t all in knots.

“You remember your mama’s funeral?” his grandmother asked, returning his attention to her. Leave it to Betty to speak about her own daughter’s death with the nonchalance most people used to discuss the weather.

“Yes, ma’am,” he said.

“Do you remember what I told you?” she pressed, but didn’t give him time to answer before she continued. “I told you I’d hold your hand the whole time. And I’ll do that now if it’ll make you feel better.”

True to her word, she offered her hand to him - cocktail rings, red nail polish, and all. He hesitated to take it.

“It was a little more acceptable to hold your hand when I was ten,” he reminded her. “I don’t reckon it’ll do now I’m a grown man.”

She wiggled her fingers and smirked. “I won’t ask again, Ethan.”

Smiling, he surrendered and placed his palm atop hers. She wrapped her fingers around it, put her free hand on top, and gave it a maternal pat. Suddenly, the walk through Charlotte-Douglas didn’t seem so daunting.

“How’d you know I’m scared?”

“Well, you were so quiet the whole way here,” she said. “When you’re excited about something, it’s getting you to hush that’s the trouble.”

A fresh smile threatened the corners of his lips. “This’ll be the farthest from…home I’ve ever been.”

He wanted to say the farthest fromyou, but held his tongue. To admit he was nervous about leaving her behind would earn him a sharp reprimand and a lecture about the state of her health. He knew Betty was strong - she’d raised a daughter on her own, and then a grandson. And at the age of sixty-four, she was still teaching aerobics classes three days a week. Heck, the woman still went on dates more weekends than not, which was more than Ethan could say for himself.

“It’s only a six hour time difference,” she said.

“It’s still a whole other country,” he countered.

“Where they speak the same language!” she insisted. “Well, for the most part. I have got to have subtitles on to watchLove Actually, but maybe in person it’s easier to understand.”

He chuckled. “I don’t think it’s gonna be likeLove Actually.”

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