Page 3 of Shifting Years (Whispering Hills #5)

I stood at attention, my hand slipping from Donna's as the live band's melody faded into the gymnasium's background. My girl's petite, with blonde hair that stops at her shoulders, and folks say she's pretty. My parents, when they're together, said she'd make a fine wife for me.

Soft lights shimmered over her blue formal dress as she nudged me, gesturing towards the brass band. I clapped politely, as did other young men and women dressed in tuxedos and shiny dresses.

Donna ran her hand through my short hair and narrowed her light-blue eyes. "I'm not sure about this haircut. It's still cute—like you, but the longer hair was more flattering. Made you rugged."

"It's a soldier's haircut," I said flatly. Soldiers cut it close, but she was too delicate to hear about our enemy grabbing long hair, pulling my head back, and then running a knife over my throat. As if they would get a chance.

Her lips curled into a smile. "I still like this new you, even with the cut, and muscles are just dreamy on tall men. My word, you're practically bursting out of your tux!"

I nodded out of politeness, but this dance and going through the motions wasn't important. Did nobody else get it? Inside the gymnasium, people danced as if they were unaware of, well, everything . Not a single person spoke about going overseas to fight the Communists who wanted to destroy America.

Donna's voice stayed soft and sweet. "Kiss?"

My cheeks burned. "It would be inappropriate in public. My father and his friends are here, as is your father."

"I see." Her tone lowered. "So if we were somewhere else?"

My heart raced, and privacy would lead to more than kissing. "Not until we're married," I said with a smile, trying to keep her happy. Images came of me slipping a diamond ring on her thin finger, with me at the altar.

That's exactly what will happen.

"And when is that?" she asked while swirling blonde hair around her pinkie.

I should have a date in mind, but it didn't come. "When I come back from overseas," I said. "The war won't take long."

She stared, but why? I answered her.

"Thirsty?" I asked, pointing towards bright red liquid in a crystal bowl and the Black servers in crisp dinner jackets. After drinking a cupful and feeling the sugar burn my throat, she whispered, "I am your girl, right?"

"Of course. Why wouldn't you be?"

She rocked back and forth on her heels. "Well, sometimes a girl needs a sign. It would be nice if you stayed."

"I'm going overseas to do my duty. I'll come back, and we'll do what we're supposed to do."

She repeated my words softly, " Supposed to do, how romantic."

I sighed, "I'm a man, and we don't see weddings the same way."

"So you're going?"

"I have to. My father and uncles served. I couldn't stay here. You want me to be like those, those… hippies?"

"Well, they seem happy," she said with a soft grin. "Yoko Ono and John Lennon got married. I heard about it on the radio, you know?" She clasped her hands as her shoulders rose. "Have you seen how they touch each other in public?"

"Who hasn't?"

She took a deep breath and smiled. "It's like they're on a constant honeymoon."

"Probably wasn't even a real marriage. They live together like uneducated, filthy…"

"Vermin?" she said mockingly.

"Well, I wouldn't say that."

"What about us educated couples in Vermont?" She twirled a strand of her blonde hair again. "You could marry and get a deferment if they start drafting."

I kept my voice civil, but it rose. "I'm not marrying to dodge the war. Besides, the military has married men."

Donna must have sensed my hesitation. "Okay. I'll wait for you, no matter what."

There was no lie in her soft eyes. She'd wait for me because it's expected. I'd offer and she'd accept.

Sometimes I wish she'd forget I existed. That would make it easier for us both.

We would have said more if an all-too-familiar tall man with dark combed-back hair and thick glasses hadn't approached us.

My father carried himself with the seriousness that had served him well as sheriff.

His ice-blue stare made you feel guilty even when innocent.

He engaged in small talk with Donna, complimenting her dress and hairstyle, while keeping his eyes stuck on me.

His voice softened. "Little lady, I'd hate to split up a lovely couple, but would you mind terribly if I discuss a private matter with my son?" He extended his palm. "Oh, nothing's wrong, I can assure you."

Donna nodded and held my gaze before glancing at the gym's double doors, hinting that she wanted to go somewhere secluded later. With a soft smile, she joined a group of women in formal wear.

"I have a favor," my father said once we were alone.

So, a command.

"A friend and a well-connected sheriff from another state needs help. We scratch his back now, and down the line, he'll talk to his wealthy friends about my campaign."

He whispered the details. "You want me to go into what kind of bar?" I half-shouted.

His jaw tightened. "Keep your voice down, boy."

"I can't go to those places. Besides, I'm not an officer," I whispered.

"You can when your father's the top lawman and if my buddy says you are. Besides, it'll be experience for when you come back as a war hero."

I wondered about my future, but he didn't. I'd go, serve in the military police, come back, and take over as sheriff under his guidance.

Everyone has a plan for me.

An older bald man in his fifties, dressed conservatively like my father and nearly every other man in our town, approached us. I had a vague memory of him being one of my father's friends.

"Frank! You remember my son Todd."

Frank smiled and ran his hand over his shiny head. "We got the same haircut, boy." He faked a laugh. "Oh, don't worry about it. It's a good, clean, respectable look, like a soldier."

"In due time," said Dad, and he put his hand around me for the first time in years.

"Todd's going soon. He'll serve his country like the other men in our family, earn his stripes, and then come back to help his daddy in a campaign.

Ain't that right?" He mimed like he were speaking in secret.

"Hell, let's get him hitched early and I'll officially announce my election plans. "

He squeezed me tighter as if we were a loving father and son. "That's right. My boy will go off to war, come back a man, and get married."

***

"Wait!" said Kim. "Like to a girl ?"

"Yeah," I admitted. "And what came after wasn't my proudest moment."

"Why did you let her think you were getting married?" The kid gestured to Mike and me while biting another warm chocolate chip cookie. "It's obvious you didn't marry her, or did you? Wait! Are you divorced or something?"

"It's complicated," I explained. "Back then, people thought marriage would 'fix' us."

"But there was nothing to fix," said Kim.

He wasn't stupid and I'm sure he had problems. Still, I hoped he grew up without thinking he was broken somehow. No kid should have to go through what we did.

A supernatural chill blew over me. Mike's light green eyes stared with concern.

Fine. I'll calm down.

"The thing is, we didn't know," Mike chimed in. "People called us monsters, and they didn't know about our shifter abilities. We were still learning who and what we were."

"In trying to fix myself," I said, "I ended up changing a poor girl forever. But that was after I was ordered to ruin a stranger's life."

"Whose life?" asked Kim.

"Mine," said Mike with a clenched jaw.

***