Page 119 of The Book of Summer

Seventy-five minutes. A full hour-plus of niceties and how-do-you-dos, not to mention a wretched meal of what they called steak but was canned meat. They couldn’t even have coffee at the end. When Ruby asked for a cup, the waitress glared at her like she’d requested a sack of nylons. Had Ruby anticipated this outcome, she would’ve skipped Washington altogether and rode straight on through to Portsmouth, directly to Sam’s bedside.

“I can’t put myself in that situation,” Mary said as she handed some bills to the waiter. “It just cannot be done.”

“A nurse can’t attend to a war-injured man? A naval lieutenant who’s battled it out in the South Pacific for nearly a year? I don’t know how they’re training you in Washington, but it sounds like you might need a repeat course.”

“I refuse to take offense,” Mary said, “as your emotions are running high.”

“You don’t know the half of it.”

“But as far as ‘war-injured,’ that is a matter of interpretation.”

“You think so, do you? Well, all I know is that my Sam was sent off one way, and is currently in another state altogether. He had a physical and was deemed fit to serve. So if his health is compromised it can only be due to this war.”

Mary gave a partial shrug and crammed the change into her coin purse.

“I despise that you’re in this predicament,” she said. “But I have no choice. Shall we go?”

“Fine,” Ruby said, and stood. “I suppose good manners dictate that I thank you for my meal but I’m quite lacking in gratitude.”

“I understand and was pleased to share a meal with you nonetheless.”

Ruby was agog. The nerve! Mary snubbing her and acting gracious at the same time. Pick a doggone personality and get on with it already.

“Good night, Mary,” Ruby said, trying to sound secure, assured, outright unbreakable despite all the cracks.

No, Ruby would not collapse. She would get through this.Theywould get through this. Her love for Sam would bolster her, toughen her once more.

The U.S. Needs Us Strong.

“I’ll see you again one day,” Ruby said, flip as a coin. “Presumably.”

She turned to leave.

“Are you sure you really want to go?” Mary called out when Ruby was halfway across the room.

Ruby spun back around, even as her good sense told her to forge ahead.

“Beg pardon?” she said.

“What you might see and hear…” Mary shook her head as Ruby stepped closer. “I’ve visited that hospital. That ward. The very floor Sam is on.”

“Well, bully for you.”

Of course, Ruby already knew this. It was the first thing Mary said when Ruby called with the news, when she described Sam’s condition, hoping for a sympathetic ear and some explanation as to his prognosis. Mary provided neither the ear nor the would-be nurse’s impression of Sam.

“I’m only trying to tell you,” Mary said, “that seeing him could change the way you view things.”

“How I view things?” Ruby said with a snort. “My dear, how I ‘view things’ changes by the week. One year ago I had a mom, and a little brother, and a baby on the way. Nothing could change the way I view the world more than losing all of that.”

Mary frowned.

“I know,” she said in a whisper. “It’s just…” Mary exhaled. “Sam is ill. Remember that, even if he looks the same to you.”

May 10, 1943

Dear Hattie,

I saw your article in the Herald Tribune. It was fab! A real gumshoe piece. I didn’t know the black market for food in New York City had grown so large. You must’ve spent scads of time chasing down the details. I suppose it’s good the Yanks don’t play baseball year-round!

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