Page 84 of We'll Meet Again

She raised an eyebrow. “Is that because I’m so hot?”

“No,” he chuckled and shook his head. “No, I think it’s because you’re starting to feel kinda like home.”

That honesty he always led with came through in his gaze, and she opened her mouth to respond, but closed it again. What could she say? It was one of the most romantic things anyone had ever said to her. So why did it scare her so much?

Interlude

October1,1944

Aldbourne, England

My darling Henry,

First of all, I already miss you terribly. It’s barely been two weeks since you were shipped out again, but it might as well be two years. That “Berlin by Christmas” rumor had better be true or I’ll go mad missing you.

Second, I’ve just come back from seeing the doctor, and I’m sad to say it isn’t the news we hoped for. Apparently, we aren’t the only ones struggling right now. Rationing has affected people’s health in every aspect, it seems, and it certainly doesn’t help that I exert myself so much in my work on the farm. I am sorry, darling. I so badly wanted to give you something extra to fight for. To tell you it would not only be me waiting for you, but the family you always dreamed of. Can you imagine what a precious little thing we could create together? I’m certain there would be no child with two parents more devoted to each other and to him.

It probably is better this way, seeing as I don’t particularly fancy the idea of our child being conceived in a barn. When the war is over, we can try again in a house of our own. In London, perhaps. Or, if your family is open to it, we could go to live near them. I love England, but I love you far more, so where you go, I’ll follow.

The hope and the dream will have to serve as your motivation for now. I keep you all in my prayers and I hope to see you soon.

All my love,

Your Maggie

Chapter 23

Anunseasonablywarmspringsun beat down on the practice pitch at the Hive, making the grass appear lush and green and getting the Wasps themselves much sweatier than they were accustomed to. Though they were so busy, none of them seemed to notice.

Ethan made firm contact with the ball through his forehead, launching it back the way it came and toward Israel, but before he could see what Israel would do, Ethan had to run to the other side of the net and prepare for his next strike. The drill was not one he’d ever done before - something Coach Warren called “football tennis” - where the players could use any skill they pleased to pass the ball (except for their hands, of course), but it had to sail over the net placed in the middle, and could only bounce once on the other side. The difficult part was that after striking the ball, they had to immediately run to the opposite side of the net in a continuing loop of their teammates, so they never knew who exactly was passing, when they might receive it, or what kind of pass it would be. The idea was to keep everyone on their toes and develop quick reactions to the unexpected. If you missed the ball, you were out, so the thinning line made it that much harder. Barbs and trash talk were exchanged faster than the ball itself, but it didn’t take away from the laughter. Ethan couldn’t recall the last time he had laughed so much at training.

Finally, it was down to just Ethan and Hector, putting Ethan on edge. Hector’s passing accuracy was higher than anyone else’s on the team, and he had the speed of a hare during hunting season. It helped that he was barely twenty years old, but Ethan was no chump. He pushed his tired legs around the net as quick as he could and stuck out his foot, just managing to catch the ball on his laces and send it Hector’s way. But it didn’t have enough power on it to take the young midfielder by surprise, so Hector - just to show off - dove into a bicycle kick. Ethan went for it, but it struck the ground, missing his boots by just inches.

Hector leapt into the air and cheered. “Ayyyy, suck it, gringito!”

The team burst into laughter. Ethan rolled his eyes as he collapsed onto the pitch to catch his breath.

“Ugh, I’m old,” he groaned.

“Fuck off,” Jordan said, standing over him and clapping him on the shoulder. “Rizo’s just a walking shot of espresso. Up you get.”

Ethan’s muscles resisted the idea of moving, but Jordan’s proved to be stronger willed. With a reluctant grunt, he was pulled to his feet. Hector jogged back over. How he had the energy after all that was beyond Ethan.

“You gonna be alright, bro?” Hector asked, a cheeky grin on his face. “Or should I say… abuelo?”

“Te odio,” Ethan grumbled back.

Hector chuckled as they clapped hands and bumped shoulders affectionately. The little bit of Spanish Ethan had picked up from playing with so many teammates from Latin and South America had quickly endeared him to Hector.

“Alright, well done, lads!” Coach Warren called, and they all formed a school circle around him. “I hope you enjoyed that little exercise.” He paused for a beat. “We’ve got some big matches coming up, so I really wanted to remind you all that this is supposed to be fun. No matter what the outcomes are, we should all count ourselves quite lucky that we get to play our favorite game for a living.” He looked around, meeting their gazes. “That being said, we’re gonna kick the shit outta Chelsea this Saturday, right?!”

“We’re gonna fuck ‘em up!” Jordan cried back, and each person bellowed their agreement with phrases like “That fourth place spot is ours!” and “We’ll turn those Blues black and blue!”

“Alright, let’s run some set pieces,” Coach Warren said with a smile. “Football tennis was a warm up.”

Ethan tried to push down his nerves as the match against Chelsea grew closer. It was the regular season game, since Liverpool won that semi-final, but even without the pressure of the FA Cup - it was his dream club. They were tied to a core memory and part of the reason he pursued football as hard as he had. If he played well enough, he hoped to catch their interest before the summer transfer window opened up. Not that he was unhappy at Stanmore, but he was thinking about other options. As it was, Ethan locked in his focus as they lined up for a short free kick Coach Warren wanted to try.

Two minutes to half time, Ethan reminded himself.Two minutes to show up.

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